Chapter 31 – The Beginning of the Divine Crusade
In the deepest abyss of Hell, where rivers of molten fire carved paths through jagged black mountains, and the very air simmered with infernal heat, a heavy silence stretched across the land. The sky burned crimson, a ceaseless curtain of flickering flames — like the breath of a slumbering, ancient beast.
Suddenly, that silence shattered.
A throne crafted from bone, scorched obsidian, and writhing shadows stood at the heart of a fortress born of hatred. Upon it sat Satan himself, cloaked in darkness so dense it swallowed all light around him. His blackened claws clenched the armrests tightly as his blood-red eyes flared with sudden awareness.
Something had changed — a tremor in the balance between the divine and the infernal.
He growled, a deep and menacing rumble that echoed through the void like thunder breaking eternal silence.
— That cursed inheritance… has finally found a heir.
The very walls around him trembled in response. Lesser demons cowered in the shadows, unwilling to meet their master's wrath.
Rising, the ground cracked beneath his steps. Approaching a window carved from dark crystal, Satan gazed upon the infernal legions marching endlessly across the scorched plains. Yet their rhythm faltered now, as if Hell itself sensed the awakening.
A cruel smile twisted his lips, revealing sharp fangs.
— It seems I must send my subordinates to deliver a "greeting" on my behalf...
A guttural laugh erupted from him, shaking the infernal landscape like a violent storm. Flames around the fortress roared higher, as if fueled by their king's fury.
— This… will be most entertaining.
**
Far from that burning realm, within the ruins of a once-holy castle concealed deep in the mortal world, a soft light pulsed faintly amid darkness. Crumbled pillars and shattered stained glass whispered tales of ancient divinity, now fading.
Adrian gasped awake, lungs burning as if surfacing from a long abyss. A halo of sacred light shimmered faintly around him, drifting upward like mist kissed by moonlight.
His chest heaved as he tried to grasp the flood of memories, revelations, and divine truths carved into his soul.
— I thought… everything would end once I claimed the inheritance — he whispered hoarsely. — But who would have imagined… this was only the beginning.
Slowly rising, the ruins groaned beneath the weight of time and unleashed power. The once-majestic castle, blessed by divinity, now crumbled inch by inch. The air was thick with the scent of burning incense, old parchment, and ancient stone.
A faint sound broke the silence.
Adrian's eyes snapped open, widening as he saw Cordelia lying nearby — bruised, bleeding, pale, and trembling.
— Cordelia!
His heart thundered as he rushed to her side, dropping to his knees. He pressed a trembling hand over her chest, uncertain if it would work, but driven by desperate hope.
A soft golden light bloomed in his palm — warm, pure, radiant.
— Virtue: Charity… — he murmured, steadying his voice.
Energy flowed from him into her broken body. Wounds sealed as if time itself reversed; her breath steadied. Blood faded, replaced by a serene warmth that softened her expression.
Power Activated: Divine Touch.
Effect: Instantly heals physical and spiritual wounds. Purifies corrupted souls.
Adrian closed his eyes, his body trembling with the sacred effort. When he opened them, he gently cradled Cordelia in his arms.
The castle groaned ominously, warning of its impending collapse. Without hesitation, he carried her through the crumbling halls, dodging falling beams and bursts of wild divine energy crackling like lightning.
He emerged just in time, stepping into the cool night air as the castle let out a final, mournful roar before collapsing into dust and sacred ruin.
Beneath a star-strewn sky wrapped in silence, Adrian set up a small tent, reinforced with protective spiritual sigils. He laid Cordelia inside, ensuring she was warm and safe. Sitting beside her, he finally allowed himself a quiet breath.
But rest would not come.
The knowledge gifted by the inheritance began to unfold within his mind — celestial scripture written in fire.
"Jesus, bearer of divine authority and son of the eternal, was once whole. Seven virtues shone within him, beacons of grace. But when he took upon himself the sins of humanity, seven dark reflections were born — twisted powers forged from sorrow, temptation, and pain. Upon his death, sealing the barrier that split worlds, these powers scattered. Only two remained — one virtue, one sin — bound within the divine inheritance, waiting for a true heir."
Adrian placed a hand over his chest. Inside, two forces pulsed in stark contrast: warmth and hunger. Mercy and power.
Virtue: Charity
Deed: Jesus healed the sick, fed the hungry, loved even the rejected.
Power: Divine Touch — heals physical and spiritual wounds, purifies corrupted souls.
Sin: Gluttony
Connection: Jesus was accused of being a glutton and drunkard for walking among sinners.
Power: Devourer of Faith — absorbs spiritual energy and blessings from the world and those around him, growing ever stronger.
Adrian exhaled slowly, eyes drifting into the dark woods beyond.
— If I want to grow stronger… — he whispered into the night — I must find the other twelve fragments. The rest of the virtues and sins.
He focused inward, reaching deeper into the divine awareness now part of him. He could feel them — distant, like stars flickering in a faraway sky — calling to him.
— I can feel them… but they're scattered. So far away…
Cordelia stirred, her eyes fluttering open. Confusion clouded her gaze before it settled on Adrian.
— Did we… make it?
Her voice was weak but filled with hope.
Adrian leaned forward, relief washing over him.
— Yes. I claimed the inheritance. And… I found where your parents are. You saved them, Cordelia. You really did.
Tears welled in her eyes, disbelief melting into joy.
— I… really did it?
A fragile, bright smile bloomed.
— Thank you, Adrian…
He extended a fist toward her, a small, warm smile lighting his face.
— I promised, didn't I?
Cordelia, tears now freely falling, raised her trembling fist to meet his.
— Even so… thank you.
Their fists met softly, but in that simple touch lay a vow — a promise to carry them through the trials ahead.
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