The Primordial Record

Chapter 1460 The Currency Of The Strong

Firen, the leader of the band of seven, no, now five, Osha, and Purin were lost in mere moments after entering the prison of the Dark One, and he had no time to mourn; with everything that had been happening, he doubted he would ever be able to get that time.

He gripped his blade so tight that he could hear micro popping at the joints of his gauntlet as his armor was the shield that carried his pain and fury, but mostly pain. Their deaths were expected, all of them dying here was expected, and yet it still hurt. He had watched too many people die, and the last bastions of his sanity, his wife Osha and his friend Purin were gone, and the darkness never seemed so close.

The Dark One, Drakul, was once a teacher and a close friend, older than the Empire, true, but he had safeguarded their home for so many millennia, it would have been impossible a year ago to believe that everything could have gone wrong, so quickly, that in a decade, this mad god would tear everything down that he had contributed a great deal to help build for hundreds of thousands of years.

Unlike the others who were here for revenge, Firen also had another purpose, and it was to give his friend and his mentor, peace. It seemed like madness to be contemplating such a thing, but Firen still remembered the good times when they had a guardian and leader, and the many accomplishments that he had made over the millennia, a living legend.

He did not say this out loud; all of them had suffered at the hands of the Dark One, their souls had been inflicted with wounds that would never heal, and any admission of pity on his part would lead to the group fracturing, the fact that they were still holding on was a miracle.