"That little bastard's over there! Grab him!"
Torches flickered wildly in the night, shouts thundering through the air. Arthur Raine gasped for breath and ducked into a narrow alley. His battered cloak snagged on a rusty nail, tearing a long gash down the side. He yanked it free and kept running without looking back.
The townsfolk and guards pounded after him, sticks slamming against the cobblestones, curses flying like knives. Arthur stumbled, weaving through familiar alleys, crashing past heaps of broken crates, kicking over a bucket of foul water. Seizing the brief confusion, he darted into an even narrower lane.
"Don't bother running, brat! The stake's waiting for you!"
The roar from behind made him grit his teeth. His eyes flicked to a battered fence at the corner of the street—beyond it, a broken section of the eastern wall. Without hesitation, Arthur changed direction and sprinted toward it.
Three days ago, the young heir of the Madd family had dropped dead. One word from the bishop, and Arthur was condemned.Blood of a dark god.Harbinger of disaster.With those brands burned onto him, no one asked questions. No one showed mercy.All of Elftown seemed eager to see him tied to the pyre.
The alley's exit was blocked by guards. Arthur didn't slow down. He sprinted low under a flipped-over table, dodged a sweeping baton, and kicked off a loose post to barely scramble up the fence.
Pain tore through his arm as he pulled himself over, but he gritted his teeth and dropped down, staggering as he landed, forcing his legs to keep moving.
"He's over the fence! After him!"
Lavore, captain of the guard, barked the order as he led the chase out into the open streets. Torches flared, lighting up flying rubble and broken stones.
Arthur tore through the abandoned warehouse district on the east side of town, weaving past half-collapsed huts. Ahead of him loomed a crumbling stretch of the outer wall.
Perfect.
He pushed himself harder, feet finding purchase in the cracks, hands gripping the battered stone as he hauled himself up, teeth gritted against the burning in his muscles.
Shouts and the clatter of sticks against stone echoed behind him—but none dared to climb.
Because beyond the wall... was the Black Forest.
Under the cold moonlight, the trees loomed like a solid wall of shadows. A chill gust rolled out from the woods, thick with the stench of damp earth and rotting leaves.
Arthur didn't hesitate.He dove straight in.
"Let him go! He won't last long in the Black Forest!" someone shouted behind him.The torchlight faded.
Breathing hard, Arthur pushed through the dense underbrush. Branches tore at his clothes, mud sucked at his boots. Every step felt like dragging dead weight.But he clenched his jaw and forced himself forward, even as every muscle screamed in protest.
In the distance, the thunder of hooves.The blast of hunting horns.
Arthur spun around, heart pounding.
Through the shattered town gate, firelight poured—and with it, a squad of Black Knights, mounted on skeletal horses, stormed straight into the forest.
The hunters of the godspawn.
Arthur didn't think.He ran.
Ducking around thorns, leaping a narrow creek, he charged deeper into the woods without once looking back.
The Black Knights weren't like the townsfolk.They weren't here to catch him.They were here to kill him.
The hoofbeats pounded closer and closer.
A spear screamed past his ear.
An arrow ripped a shallow gash along his arm, soaking his already torn sleeve in blood.
Arthur dove into a low thicket, rolling twice before dragging himself upright and staggering onward.Behind him, the chase howled louder, firelight flickering between the trees.
He couldn't stop.Not even for a second.
Ahead, the woods opened into a clearing under the cold silver moon.
And there it was.
Broken stone pillars. Collapsed walls.An ancient, crumbling temple, silent and half-buried in time.
Through its cracked stone doors, a faint golden glow seeped out—like a dying heartbeat, like the thinnest thread of hope.
Arthur bolted for it, ignoring the burning in his lungs.
The Black Knights were right on his heels.Another spear hurtled through the air, this one grazing his side, tearing skin and muscle. Pain blinded him for a heartbeat.
But he gritted his teeth, staggered forward, and crashed through the stone doors.
Inside, it was cold and dark, thick with the stench of dust and forgotten time.
Floating at the center of the temple was a shattered monument, fragments hovering and leaking a faint, pure light.
The burning in Arthur's chest flared hotter.He could feel his blood boiling.
The Black Knights reached the doorway—but they stopped.Behind their masks, their eyes gleamed with hesitation.
"Don't let him touch the fragment," the captain growled, low and urgent.The knights fanned out, surrounding the entrance, ready to strike.
Arthur didn't spare them a glance.
Gasping for breath, every step a battle, he staggered toward the monument.
With each heartbeat, the power roaring in his blood grew stronger, dragging him forward like a tide.
He reached out a trembling hand—
And the moment his fingertips brushed the broken stone, a blast of golden light erupted!
The temple shuddered violently.Ancient runes flared across the cracked floor.And the radiant tide swept out, swallowing Arthur whole.
The Black Knights outside the temple snapped into action.One of them kicked his skeletal horse forward, lowering his lance to skewer Arthur's back —but the moment he got close, a golden barrier roared to life.The spear slammed into the shield with a heavy boom and bounced back like a toy.Horse and rider were flung through the air, crashing into the ground with a sickening thud.
The other knights immediately pulled back, putting distance between themselves and the temple entrance.They raised their crossbows, bolts aimed dead at Arthur's heart.
Arthur knelt before the shattered monument, sweat dripping from his chin.It felt like fire was tearing through every vein in his body.But deep inside him, the golden power had started to take root —and something hidden in his blood was waking up.
Outside the gate, the knights exchanged uneasy glances.None of them dared charge in again.One of them unrolled a black magic scroll on the ground, trying to pin Arthur down from afar.
Arthur's arms trembled, but he pushed himself upright.Golden light shimmered around his palm, forming a thin, steady shield that wrapped him in a warm glow.
The Black Knight captain's eyes darkened."Break the barrier," he barked. "Kill him before the miracle fully awakens!"
Three knights lashed out their chain-hooks from different angles, whipping them toward Arthur in a deadly arc.
The hooks hissed through the air like vengeful snakes.
Arthur twisted to dodge.One chain sliced past his ear, shredding his torn cloak.Without missing a beat, he snatched up a chunk of broken stone from the ground and hurled it at the nearest hook.It smashed into the chain's pivot, throwing it off course and crashing into the dirt in a spray of dust.
But another hook snagged his left arm, the barbs biting deep into his skin.Blood trickled down his wrist.
Arthur gritted his teeth and yanked hard.The sudden force made the knight on the other end stumble backward, losing his balance.
And that was all Arthur needed.
He lunged toward the center of the temple and slammed both hands onto the fragments of the monument.
[Radiant Miracle binding complete.][Host: Arthur Raine. Phase One synchronization achieved.]
A mechanical voice echoed in his mind.
A rush of warmth flooded through his veins, pushing out the pain, the burning —leaving behind only strength.Lightness.Power.
Arthur lifted his head, and for the first time, golden light flickered in his eyes.
Outside, one of the knights snarled and raised his crossbow again.
On instinct, Arthur thrust out his hand.A beam of golden light shot from his palm and blasted the knight's wrist.The crossbow bolt flew wide, the knight staggering back with a cry of pain.
It wasn't much.It wasn't perfect.But it was his.
And it changed everything.
The Black Knight captain's face twisted.He stared into the temple at the boy standing there like a spark of defiance — and made a choice.
"Fall back," he growled. "The miracle's already awakened. We can't break in now."
The knights retreated into the darkness without a word, their black cloaks disappearing between the trees.They left behind nothing but torn grass and the trembling air.
Arthur stood alone in the shattered temple.He didn't move until the last flicker of torchlight vanished from sight.
Only then did he let out a long, shaky breath.
His whole body was drenched in sweat, wounds throbbing, but his steps felt lighter than ever.
He looked around.The temple had half-collapsed from the force of the miracle.Chunks of stone littered the floor, and a faint golden shimmer still hung in the dusty air.
Arthur picked up his battered cloak, ripped off a clean strip, and tied it around his bleeding arm.Then he limped to the entrance.
The night wind hit him, sharp and cold, carrying the damp scent of the deep woods.
Moonlight spilled through the gaps in the clouds, washing the ruins in silver.
Arthur leaned against a broken pillar and rested for a moment.Everything that happened tonight...it felt like a nightmare.Or maybe it was fate finally kicking him into gear.
Framed.Hunted.Driven to the edge.Only to cling — by pure stubborn will — to a single thread of miracle.
But he knew it wasn't over.
The rotting gods wouldn't just let him go.The Black Knights would be back.The townsfolk would never forget the "heretic" they'd thrown into the forest to die.
Arthur looked down at his bloodstained hand.Then he clenched it into a fist.
From now on, every step forward —he would carve it out himself.
A faint sound stirred the air.Something moving, somewhere out there in the woods.
Arthur drew a deep breath, tightened his grip on his ruined cloak, and pushed away from the pillar.No more hiding.
He slipped into the shadows of the Black Forest.
The night was cold.The wind howled like beasts in the dark, carrying the stench of rot and danger.But Arthur didn't stop.
Somewhere ahead, through the chaos and the unknown,his path — his only path — was waiting.