Chapter 43 – The Forest Where He Was Forgotten
Part 2: A Name for Every Flame
The chief's throat cracked under Ariz's grip.
His feet kicked against nothing, arms flailing weakly, like an old dog finally cornered by the thing it had barked at in the dark.
Ariz didn't blink.
Didn't breathe.
Didn't speak again until the man's skin began to pale.
Then, with quiet clarity:
"Names."
The old man coughed.
Ariz loosened his hand—but only slightly.
"Please... I didn't... I never—"
"You watched."
"I—"
"You did nothing."
The chief wheezed, face reddening. "The priest—Kallis! It was Priest Kallis who came. From the east town—Velis Cross! He brought knights with him. One was called Remal. The other… I don't remember. The bishop's name was Denan. I swear, that's all. That's all."
Ariz stared.
"Kallis. Remal. Denan."
He let go.
The chief dropped to the floor, coughing.
Ariz turned his back and walked toward the door.
"But I didn't burn it," the chief rasped, still gasping. "I didn't light the fire."
Ariz stopped in the doorway, silhouetted by the moonlight.
"You didn't need to," he said without looking back."You just let them bring the matches."
The first house fell silently.
He didn't shout.
Didn't warn.
Just stepped from one shadow to another, and ended lives.
The old guard who once blocked the door.The woman who stood silent in the square that night.The merchant who pointed the priests toward his grandfather's land.One by one.
Quick. Clean. Just.
Their screams were brief.
Their sins had aged.
Now they were dust.
The last house stood at the far edge of the village.
Inside: a man with a long beard and trembling hands. He was the one who had first said the word "ghost." The one who told the others a child had no shadow.
Ariz didn't knock.
The man tried to run.
The shadow reached him first.
[System Notice: Blood Oath Fulfilled – Witnesses Removed]
🔓 Class Unsealed: Warlock – Umbrakin Path➤ Rank: Adept➤ Magic Reservoir Activated➤ Pact Alignment: Voidborn
"Your magic was never gone. It was waiting for silence."
Ariz stepped out into the quiet night.
All that remained was firelight—and a house at the far end of the path, still untouched.
Torran's home.
He didn't go near it.
Didn't speak.
Only left a shadow-mark carved into the earth near the door. A sign only Torran would understand.
I remember who you were.
Then he turned.
Toward the east.
Three names.
Three deaths.
One more church.