The Sovereign Chronicles novel Chapter 14

Kaelen navigated the dim, moisture-choked expanse of the forest with lethal precision, sticking entirely to the densest shadows and overgrown gullies. He knew his geographic knowledge of these woods was vastly inferior to the Veridian Acolyte, Corin. Furthermore, they wouldn't make the same arrogant mistakes as before. They were likely rigging traps or setting up crossfires, waiting for him to step out of line. One careless footfall could end him.

Despite his extreme caution, the forest was unforgiving. He was forced to endure several ambushes from native Spirit Beasts. During one particularly close call, while actively evading the hunting perimeter of a Mist-Stalker Panther, a Shadowhawk plummeted from the canopy, tearing through the branches like a black missile. Its obsidian talons missed decapitating him by mere inches.

He pushed forward relentlessly. After two full days and nights of tracking, he hadn't found a single trace of Moria or Corin. He did, however, spot several other Azure Sky harvesting squads.

To avoid any unnecessary complications, Kaelen gave them a wide berth.

By noon on the third day, Kaelen struck gold. He unearthed a Wild Mandrake as thick as a man's forearm. Held up to the slivers of sunlight piercing the canopy, its intricate internal Aether-veins were clearly visible. This was undoubtedly an Aether-flora. Even if it didn't quite reach the 'Lesser' tier, it was a premium specimen among Minor Aether-flora.

"Skitter... skitter..."

A disturbing, rhythmic clicking echoed from the damp undergrowth ahead. Kaelen instantly stowed the Mandrake. Peering through the foliage, he drew a sharp breath.

A colony of Crimson-Eye Venomspitters.

Each arachnid was the size of a bull calf. Their obsidian exoskeletons gleamed with a sickening, oily sheen in the filtered light. Their twin, blood-red compound eyes glowed like embers in the gloom. Their eight legs were thick, rigid, and barbed—looking less like limbs and more like a bundle of steel javelins.

One or two Venomspitters was a hazard. An entire colony of thirty to fifty roaming the forest floor was a death sentence.

He had wandered right into their hunting grounds.

Suppressing his aura and breathing, Kaelen began a microscopic, agonizingly slow retreat.

By a stroke of pure luck, the Venomspitters remained oblivious, lazily patrolling their territory.

"Where exactly did Moria crawl off to? Did she link up with the other squads?"

Kaelen continued his silent prowl, moving in staggered bursts, constantly flaring his Aether-senses to sweep the environment.

Suddenly, the faint, metallic scent of fresh blood caught his attention. It was drifting from a clearing up ahead.

"What is he doing here?"

Kaelen scaled a nearby oak and crouched in the canopy, his eyes locking onto the scene below.

Slumped against the massive roots of a rotting tree was a man, soaked in his own blood. His head was tilted back, his face frozen in a mask of absolute terror, his dead eyes staring blindly into the canopy.

It was the rugged Initiate from Corin's squad.

"What happened?" Kaelen scanned the perimeter with his Aether-senses to ensure the area was clear before dropping down and approaching the corpse.

It was definitely him. He hadn't been dead long; the blood pooling beneath him was still warm.

The surrounding dirt and brush showed signs of a scuffle, but the area of effect was small. The execution had been rapid and completely overwhelming.

"Who put him down? Was it Corin, or..." Kaelen suddenly noticed a secondary trail of blood droplets leading deeper into the brush. Gripping The Daevan Blade tight, he followed the trail. The crimson spots were erratic, eventually leading toward a babbling brook where the mud was churned up by a dozen heavy boot prints.

Just then, a shrill scream pierced the air, followed by the booming, vulgar laughter of several men.

Kaelen's brow furrowed. He vanished into the brush, tracking the noise.

Up ahead lay a secluded, picturesque valley, choked with blooming wildflowers and framed by elegant saplings. The scenery was breathtaking, but the events transpiring within were utterly vile.

A squad of Mercenaries had captured Moria and Corin.

Corin was face-down in the mud, a massive boot planted firmly on his spine. The boot belonged to a heavily scarred, hulking man who was currently admiring the blade in his hands. "Now this is a blade! Hahaha, look at this edge! Say what you will about the Azure Sky Sanctum, their run-dogs carry premium steel. This piece alone will fetch ten thousand gold pieces!"

"Keep the sword. Just let me go! Let us both go!" Corin writhed in the dirt, coughing up blood.

"Oh? Changed our tune, have we? You were spitting a lot of venom a minute ago. That arrogance broke fast." The towering man kicked Corin in the ribs, sending him sprawling.

Corin curled into a pathetic ball. "I am an Upper Initiate of Mount Veridia! I am slated to become a Prime Initiate! If you kill me, the Azure Sky Sanctum will hunt you to the ends of the earth. Walk away now. Take the sword. I will swear on my life that none of this ever happened."

"Release you today, so you can bring a Sanctum death squad to our camp tomorrow? I've gutted a dozen pampered aristocrats just like you. Don't insult my intelligence. The second we drew steel, your fate was sealed." The hulking man—The Reaver Captain—laughed as he casually unbuckled his leather cuirass, revealing a torso mapped with brutal scars. He strode leisurely toward the center of the wildflower patch.

"No... stay back..." Moria lay pinned in the flowers, her Aether reserves completely drained, her body battered.

Seven other Mercenaries formed a ring around her, their eyes raking over her curves like starving wolves, completely unable to hide their vile intent.

"Gods, look at the skin on her. She's practically glowing. I can't take this much longer."

"Those Sanctum aristocrats sure know how to breed them. Look at her. I'm burning up just staring."

"A piece like this? In a high-end brothel, she'd command a hundred gold for a single night. Boys, the gods are smiling on us today. Even if the Sanctum hunts us down tomorrow, dying after a taste of this is a fair trade."

"Captain, get on with it! Once you pop the cherry, the rest of us want our turn."

The Mercenaries were practically frothing at the mouth, barely restraining themselves from tearing her apart. None of them had ever laid eyes on a woman of this caliber. Her features were spellbinding, her legs long and flawless, her waist impossibly slender. She was a living masterpiece.

They stared at her like a pack of rabid dogs cornering prime meat, swallowing hard.

Moria was drowning in absolute despair. For the first time in her life, she cursed her own beauty. She had only joined this miserable expedition to torture and execute Kaelen. She never, in her darkest nightmares, imagined she would end up here. If she had known, she would have never stepped foot outside the Sanctum.

Corin collapsed, exhaling a massive breath of relief, though his heart burned with profound humiliation. An elite Veridian Acolyte, reduced to begging filthy Mercenaries for his life. "What about my squadmate?"

"Her? Hahaha! Even if you handed me Greater Aether-flora right now, I wouldn't trade her." The Reaver Captain flashed a jagged grin.

The other Mercenaries chuckled darkly. An opportunity to defile something this pure came around exactly once in a lifetime.

"Keep an eye on the kid. Don't let him try anything stupid." The Reaver Captain, entirely out of patience, threw his heavy frame over Moria.

Moria squeezed her eyes shut, hot tears streaming down her face. In that exact moment of absolute despair, the image of Kaelen flashed in her mind. Why am I even out here?! It's all because of Kaelen!

Hate. Hate. Pure, unadulterated hate.

She hated Kaelen with every fiber of her being. If it weren't for him, she would never have been subjected to this hell.

Corin turned his head away. There was nothing he could do. His own survival took priority.

Suddenly, the heavy, frantic sound of snapping branches echoed from the tree line just outside the valley.

Corin snapped his head around. Moria forced her tear-streaked eyes open.

A few seconds later, a figure burst from the tree line, chest heaving, sprinting directly toward the valley entrance.

"Kaelen?" Corin whispered, completely incapable of processing the sight.

Kaelen? Moria stared blankly, convinced her mind had finally snapped.

It was Kaelen. His jaw set, his eyes burning with grim resolve, he charged straight into the valley.

"He's one of yours." The Reaver Captain's face twisted into an ugly sneer, furious at the second interruption.

"Just another idiot rushing to his death. Ignore him, Captain. We'll butcher him." Two Mercenaries drew their Warblades and marched forward to intercept.

"Playing the knight in shining armor? Pathetic." The others laughed, entirely unconcerned. One kid? What a joke.

But the smirks froze on their faces a second later. Close behind Kaelen, a horrifying, rhythmic clicking echoed from the tree line. An enormous Crimson-Eye Venomspitter burst through the foliage. Its eight barbed legs propelled it forward with terrifying speed, letting out a screeching hiss as it hunted Kaelen. Then another emerged. And another... Ten... Twenty...

A tidal wave of over forty Crimson-Eye Venomspitters flooded out of the ancient woods. Each one the size of a bull, their armored carapaces glinting like dark steel, their jagged limbs tearing up the earth. Mandibles clicking in a frenzy, they swarmed forward like an apocalyptic plague.

Kaelen sprinted into the valley like a madman, waving a severed, bleeding Venomspitter leg in his hand. He had assassinated one of their scouts, intentionally triggered the entire hive's aggro, and led the swarm straight into the mercenary camp. He refused to stand by and watch Moria be defiled. It wasn't about holding a grudge or seeking vengeance anymore; it was about basic human decency.