This entry is part 29 of 35 in the series The Rusted Blade

Judgement shifted in his slackening grip, causing Orthael to clench his fist with a hundred battles’ worth of instinct and experience. The point dipped, causing golden droplets of fire to drip down to briefly illuminate the forest floor before disappearing without a worldly trace.

Within his armour of blessed steel and Fire-centred soulfulness, he shivered. The immaterial places where the All-Consumer’s presence did not reach were forbidden with good reason. There was power there, it was clear from many scrolls of wisdom, but it came from other entities with other intentions. Those same scrolls tended to come from civilisations that had been ended by those entities, or by misuse of those powers. It was terrifying to think that the Church had nearly gone the same way.

The forest opened up, drawing his attention back to the woman and the sword and the carnage they had wrought. Judgement and Varenniel remained silent, though they both held an aloof and disapproving air.

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