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The Crime Lord Bard - Chapter 146: Remains
🕑 Added 2025-07-25 00:00:06 +0000 UTC“Tòisichidh sinn!”
As soon as the words left Theren’s lips, the world lurched as if the flow of time had been ripped apart. Everything slowed to a crawl. Andrik’s wounded body hung in mid-air, blood drops catching torchlight as they expelled from the exit wound. Each soldier, each flicker of flame, seemed trapped in a dreamlike stasis.
Still, they were able to think, to see, to agonize in that state. Jamie wanted to move, but his entire body felt as if it weighed tons.
Yet something still moved just as it was before.
The oily black mass on the ground began to writhe, then pulse, gathering itself in a surge of energy. Before Jamie’s eyes, the dark substance warped and twisted upward, coalescing into the shape of an enormous gate. It stretched so high that it scraped the very ceiling of the cavern.
Jamie felt his pulse thunder in his ears. A towering wave of mana and divine essence radiated from the portal. One by one, soldiers collapsed to their knees, some going limp entirely, their minds and bodies unable to bear the suffocating pressure. Even Jamie’s vision blurred as vertigo slithered through his senses, threatening to drag him into darkness. He bit down on his tongue until the iron taste of blood flooded his mouth.
With a hideous groan, the gate swung open. It revealed a churning void beyond. Jamie strained to see what lurked there, but the mere attempt sent a piercing pain through his skull. Hot blood trickled from his eyes like crimson tears, and he fought the urge to scream.
Jamie couldn’t comprehend or even see what lay beyond the gate. Pain was the only signal that reached his body, aside from the color yellow. He wasn’t sure, but it seemed as if the gate and the glyphs were emitting a yellow color.
"Tha do sheirbhiseach an seo." Theren spoke towards the gate.
“Finally! My lord!” Theren cried, dropping to his knees in reverence as though addressing a god made manifest. “You shall step forth into the land of the living as the greatest weapon of war this realm has ever seen!”
“He… he corrupted it,” Jessica spat, voice raw from exhaustion. She glared at Theren. “A twisted abomination.”
“Silence!” Theren snarled, lunging toward her. “You think I don’t know what you hear? You think I don’t hear your pathetic goddess, begging me to stop?” He jabbed a finger against Jessica’s forehead, driving her head back.
“She can meddle all she wants,” he snarled, his voice woven with a manic triumph. “But the moment I removed her paladin from the field, her power became useless.” A loud crack rang out as he struck Jessica’s cheek with the back of his hand. The strike sent her sprawling to the floor with a fresh bruise marking her skin.
Instead of trembling with fear, Jessica merely chuckled under her breath, a hollow laugh. Theren knelt beside her, gaze torn between curiosity and contempt. “What are you laughing at?” he hissed, his voice sharp. “Have you lost your mind, girl?”
“No,” she answered, calm yet defiant. “I’m far from being like you.”
“Me?” Theren tilted his head, an eerie smile curling his lips. “I’m not mad. I only listened to the voice of truth. The voice of Zarn.”
“You let yourself be corrupted,” Jessica shot back.
“Not corrupted,” Theren insisted. “My eyes were opened. He showed me the future, the glory we could achieve. We only need to be willing. Willing to make a few… small sacrifices.” His fervent tone resonated through the chamber.
From where he crouched, Jamie heard every word. He managed to lift his head, though every time he glanced at the portal, his strength drained out of him.
“He’s coming,” Theren announced, rising to his feet and moving to stand before the colossal gate.
Jamie’s heart hammered as he saw something hovering within the swirling darkness. A mask, carved from what appeared to be ivory. Its surface was smooth and featureless, with no opening for nose or mouth. Theren reached out with trembling hands and gently lifted the artifact free from the void.
Slowly, he raised the relic to his face. In the heartbeat before it met his skin, the marble appeared to shift. From it sprouted a mouth rimmed with ivory teeth that clamped down, biting into Theren’s flesh. He let out a pained, exultant shriek, half agony and half delirious laughter. Horns, shaped like those of a stag, burst forth from his head, curving and elongating in grotesque splendor.
Through it all, Jessica mustered the last of her will, her voice ragged and weak. “Someone,” she gasped, turning her gaze to Jamie and anyone else still conscious. “Stop him. As long as… that gate remains open… he’s still mortal.”
Slowly, an earth-toned cloak began to stretch across Theren’s back. It grew and pulsed in tandem with the energies emitted by the gate. Each new inch of fabric slithered across his shoulders with an unnatural life of its own, a sign of the ritual’s progress.
Yet despite the terror staging itself in front of him, only one image cycled relentlessly through Jamie’s mind. He could see Theren’s hand, swinging in slow motion, striking Jessica’s face. With every blink, the memory rewound and replayed, each loop more vivid than the last. It was as if cracks were forming beneath his skin, a splintering force threatening to split him open from the inside out.
'I worked so hard,' he thought, his inner voice faltering with the enormity of his rage. 'To keep it under control… to keep it locked away.'
But now, his body shook with a will of its own. His eyes fluttering, fingers twitching. 'All of that,' he told himself, 'for nothing.'
He could sense he was losing the battle for his mind. A single, maddening melody churned over and over in his thoughts, climbing toward an unbearable crescendo. And then he heard it. An inner snap, like a plate shattering on stone. The final barrier of his restraint buckled with an almost audible crack.
“It’s been so long,” Jamie muttered, rising to his feet. He ran a hand through his hair before allowing a slow, hungry grin to stretch across his face. “So long since he last let go of the reins.”
Theren’s stare flicked toward Jamie, surprise plain in the slim slits of his ivory mask. Even with most of his face hidden, his eyes betrayed every emotion. Jamie could see confusion, apprehension, and a newfound wariness.
“Hold on a moment, cousin,” Jamie said, his voice disconcertingly calm as he moved to retrieve his daggers. Each blade stood rigid, embedded in the bodies of fallen cultists.
He crouched to yank one from a cultist’s rib cage, then rose and strode to another corpse, dislodging the second dagger with a wet crack. On his path back, he passed near Andrik, who lay in a pool of his own blood. The blade had run him through; crimson seeped between the plates of his armor, pooling across the cavern floor.
'If we had a cleric,' Jamie thought, a flicker of regret passing through him, 'maybe we could save him. But we don’t.'
Andrik’s eyes locked with Jamie’s, the fear and anguish in them impossible to ignore. Jamie offered a small shrug. “I’m sorry, cousin. There’s nothing I can do.”
At that, Andrik gave a weak nod, his eyelids fluttering as if ready to surrender to the darkness. Yet Jamie only offered a cold, measured grin. “But I can at least steal this kill.”
Before Andrik could register the meaning, Jamie swept his dagger across Andrik’s throat in a swift, precise arc. A final tremor coursed through the warrior, and his gaze dimmed, sealing his life in an instant.
At that moment, a series of messages flared into Jamie’s mind.
[Murderer]
[You have killed five humans within twenty-four hours.]
[The gods are … concerned.]
[A new Dagger Dancer is born.]
