Constantine (Daughter of War #1)

Chapter 50: Wervas, Fortimus (Part 1)

Music is Claim Your Weapons by Christian Reindl ft. Atrel. Play it!

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Wervas, fortimus.

Despite the soldiers' efforts, plenty of ghosts come pouring into the cathedral grounds, blocking our way to escape. I grit my teeth, determination lending me strength I never knew I had. If Miraterciel was dangerous before, it is now deadly, a mere medium for my contained rage. A mere tool for me to unleash true Death.

The wraiths fall before me. Yet there can never be enough for me to cut down. I want more—need more, to satisfying my growing bloodlust. I don't know how I manage to keep my hold on the State. Perhaps it's because my feelings are a blizzard—cold, methodical, indifferent, wrapped beneath a flurry of pure rage.

Wervas, fortimus.

More, more, more. More mortal soldiers fall, fighting with useless effort. Heads roll, blood pools, bodies drop. My stomach hardly turns at the sight anymore, as though this isn't the first time I've truly fought in a battle, only one of the lesser sights I've seen throughout eternity. I should turn back to fight, to help Captain Eldric and Sir Kendrick. To die like a true warrior would.

No. make sure that their sacrifices would be worth it, a small voice in my head keeps me in check.

Wervas, fortimus.

Fortunately, although King Terrell can't kill the ghosts, he's skilled enough in combat that he can dodge their attacks. So my burden of keeping both Gilbert and him alive is lessened.

So close! I smash through the cathedral gates, only to be greeted by more spectres. And to think, the last time I was here, it was a day of celebration. A day when the people of Perinus had their hopes planted in me, their Champion.

I will not vanquish that hope.

Wervas, fortimus.

With wicked speed, I cut through their lines. Even with Gilbert on my back, hindering my agility, they are no match for Miraterciel. We slowly approach the altar, to where Captain Eldric claimed that the entrance into the secret passageway would lay.

In one last burst of adrenaline, I pummel through the ghosts. We finally stumble onto the elevated dais. "Your Majesty," I cry out to the king, who is desperately catching his breath, "can you help me to push the altar aside?"

I sense the king heaving against the structure without hesitation. He must have known about all of this beforehand. He must have known that Diomedes' army would have a good chance of overwhelming us.

Yet he'd forced us into this war.

Creak.

I hear the altar moving. King Terrell hears it too; he emits a sigh of relief. I sense him pressing harder against it, shoving with all his might. His breaths are quick puffs and pants of desperation. Meanwhile, the first ghost has already approached the dais; I cut it down with my athame.

It creaks some more. Then, I feel it sliding—heavy, solid, as if it hasn't been moved in centuries. But sliding, no less. I continue to fight the ghosts, not daring to avert my attention to take a look at the altar. "Come!" King Terrell cries.

"Get Gilbert in there first," I say. Gilbert's mail scratches against the floor as the king obeys me. I hear a sickening thump, followed by a more controlled slap of boots against the floor. Pietists Above, what is King Terrell doing?

"He could get injured!" I hiss.

"It's the only way we can get into the passageway." The king's voice sounds odd. It comes from below and is accompanied by echoes.