The wind was wrong.
Malric felt it in the way the branches leaned, in how frost refused to melt even beneath the sun. Something had shifted—not in the world, but in him.
> [System Status: Mutation Advancing – Phase Two Pending] [Symbiosis Threshold Approaching | Behavioral Influence: Passive]
His fingers twitched.
Not from cold.
From instinct.
He flexed them slowly, watching tendons shift beneath his skin. They felt sharper now. Like weapons waiting to be named. Veilpiercer hung at his hip, but for the first time, it didn't feel like his only blade.
He was the blade.
The system whispered—no longer words, not yet commands, but impressions. Urges. Suggestions. He sensed terrain before he saw it. Smelled movement before it stirred. Heard memory echo in places no voice had touched.
> [Sensory Field Expanded – Range: 12 meters] [Passive Effect Unlocked: "Sanctified Echo" – Reverberation of holy intent may unveil hidden paths or deceive zealots]
The air hummed with unseen threads.
He followed them.
---
Hours passed.
Or maybe not.
Time lost meaning when the system half-steered his feet. The old part of him—the man who once flinched at hunger and fought for scraps of sleep—walked behind his eyes now. Watching. Learning. Losing.
He paused beneath a dead tree split by ancient lightning. Its core was hollow, and within it hung the remains of a noose, frayed and frozen.
From nowhere, a phrase entered his mind:
> "The faithful do not die. They return."
He didn't think it.
He remembered it.
Not his memory.
> [System Memory Sync: 78% | Cognitive Integration: Accelerating] [Warning: Identity Overlap Detected – Phase Two onset may blur internal boundaries]
He pressed two fingers to his temple.
Beneath skin, something moved.
Not parasite. Not pain.
Purpose.
He didn't flinch.
---
The trail ended at an old stone bridge, swallowed in moss and mist. Beyond it, ruins. Fresher than the last. Blackened timbers. Shattered sigils. Burnt corpses still bound in prayer-chains.
The place hadn't just fallen. It had been made to fall.
> [System Prompt: Memory Trace Detected – Initiate Lirael active within vicinity | Estimated encounter window: 2–4 hours] [Threat Level: Severe | Class: Faithbound Executioner | Cognitive Defense: Extreme]
Malric stared at the wreckage.
His lips moved before thought caught up.
"She purged them."
The system pulsed.
> [Corroborated: Internal logs suggest Initiate Lirael executed over forty Faithbound defectors in recent cycle] [Justification: "Purity cannot abide compromise."]
For a moment, the old world tried to crawl back into his mind. The rules. The lines between heresy and survival. He remembered the lash. The chants. The prayers that masked pain.
Then it slipped away.
Burned away by a new truth.
He wasn't here to mourn them.
He was here to consume what remained.
---
He stepped through the ruins like a shadow returned. Charred bones crackled beneath his boots. Eyes closed, he let Sanctified Echo guide him—not as a light, but a resonance. A rhythm of what had been.
A child's scream. A hymn cut short. Chains falling.
> [Passive Effect: Sanctified Echo Activated] [Hidden Vault Unveiled – Burial Cache: Relic Fragment x1, System Nutrient (Moderate), Faithbound Oathscroll (Severed)]
He retrieved the relics in silence. The nutrient hissed as he consumed it—more memory than substance.
> [Hunger reduced to 16% | System reserves replenished] [Minor Insight: Oathscroll contains record of Initiate Lirael's penance rite – Access?]
He nodded.
The scroll unwound, not with ink but with voice.
A woman's voice. Unyielding. Clipped like sharpened glass.
> "They wept. I cut their tongues. They begged. I burned their hands. They prayed—too late."
> "We are not kind. We are not saviors. We are flame, and flame does not forgive."
> "May the false lights die screaming."
Silence.
> [Fragment Catalogued: Lirael – Cognitive Profile 18% Compiled]
Malric breathed slowly.
So this was his next adversary.
Not a monster.
A believer.
The worst kind.
---
Dusk bled across the forest as he climbed the ridge north of the ruins. Fog swirled thicker here, not natural. A veil. A warning.
Then he saw her.
Across a field of broken stone, veiled in red and gold.
Lirael stood still as a statue, arms folded. Her armor bore no mark of rust, no stain of sin. A halo of false fire crowned her head—not flame, but illusion. A symbol. A statement.
She wasn't here to hunt.
She was here to judge.
> [Target Locked: Initiate Lirael – Twinned Flame Executioner] [Engagement Recommended: No] [Suggested Action: Retreat, Observe, Prepare Mental Assault Strategy | Note: Mental Duel Probability < 40% without additional memory cores]
Malric's grip tightened on Veilpiercer.
He didn't charge.
Not yet.
The system did not demand it.
But it wanted.
The hunger coiled quietly inside him, whispering not in speech—but in need.
> "Soon," he whispered.
Lirael turned, as if hearing it across the stillness.
Her eyes met his—miles away.
And smiled.