Chapter 82: Cliffside Vigil
The Cohort had marched through a tunnel of flame and wind carved into the Grey Sea’s crushing depths for hours.
It hadn’t been a long journey in distance, but in effort? Grueling, especially for the ones maintaining the corridor. With few beasts attacking, Lucy’s theory about the monsters fearing Eri began to feel less like guesswork and more like fact.
Now, they rested.
A narrow ledge jutted from the jagged cliffside of Caelgorr’s island, barely wide enough to hold all six of them. It was a precarious perch—wind-slick stone clinging to the mountain like a forgotten shelf.
Below stretched the endless expanse of the Grey Sea, rippling with a slow, oily unease.
Above them, fog twisted in slow, deliberate spirals, blanketing the upper half of the island in a roiling shroud of gloom. The clouds didn’t reach down this far, but Lucy could feel their weight pressing down from above, thick with quiet malice.
They hadn’t built a fire—none was needed. After hours of freezing exposure to the Grey Sea’s icy grip, even the cold night air of Seraph’s Hollow felt blissfully warm.
Everyone slept now, curled on patches of stone or against the cliff wall—everyone except Lucy.
He sat near the cliff’s edge, cross-legged, overlooking the abyss. His eyes were closed, but his mind stayed vigilant. Not too far below, a single ripple in the sea might spell doom. Too far above, a shift in the fog could mean the same. So he watched both—monsters below, Caelgorr’s presence above.
It might not have been fair that Lucy stood watch, but it was necessary. Only he, Fenric, and Carlos could patrol without drawing attention. Fenric used his nose, Lucy used an ability, and Carlos used both.
His soul thread ability stretched outward, invisible and silent, weaving through the night like a net cast into the dark. If anything nearby felt hatred, hunger, or bloodlust, it would sing to him like a plucked string.