Godless Blood: Last Apostle

Cheonho jogged toward the main gate, his footsteps quick and heavy, Silver at his heels, his pace erratic as he cast quick, uneasy glances back at Mira's hut. The door remained firmly shut. Silver's mind raced, and his thoughts were clouded with the doubts he'd been struggling to ignore.

As they reached the Main Entrance Walls, the ground beneath their feet seemed to tremble. A low rumble echoed in the distance, growing steadily louder.

Guards scrambled along the barricades atop the stone walls, shouting orders. The air was filled with urgency and panic as villagers ran to and fro. Some grabbed weapons, others ushered their families toward the safety of their homes. The sky above them darkened unnaturally, a swirling mass of ominous clouds hanging overhead like a bad omen.

Cheonho called up to the soldiers stationed on the wall, his voice firm despite the unease creeping over him.

"What's happening? Who's coming?" he called out, his brow furrowing in confusion.

Before anyone could answer, a bone-chilling roar echoed from the distance. The villagers froze, their gazes shifting to the horizon. It was a cry they recognized too well.

Then, they saw it.

The Stormbringer.

A massive, hulking beast, its enormous form breaking through the desert's edge. Its claws tore up the earth as it barreled toward the village, frenzied and uncontrollable.

Jagged arcs of violet lightning crackled across its body, and its wolf-like head was crowned with twisted, jagged horns. Its wild eyes, glowing with unnatural intensity, betrayed not aggression, but something worse—fear, or maybe desperation.

"Loose!" a guard shouted.

A volley of arrows rained down from the walls, but they were useless. The steel shafts clattered harmlessly against the Stormbringer's crackling hide. The creature barely seemed to notice, its focus fixed ahead, its body charging forward like a tidal wave.

Cheonho's eyes narrowed, and he muttered under his breath, his tone sharp with realization.

"It's not attacking us... it's running from something," he said, his voice steady but laced with a deep concern.

But panic spread quickly. The village head barked orders, and archers readied their bows. Infantry struggled to maneuver a large cannon toward the gates. Just as the chaos reached its peak, the sky suddenly split with a brilliant flash of light.

Everyone froze.

A ray of light, radiant and blinding, shot down from the heavens. For a moment, it felt as though time itself had stopped.

The light flickered and shifted, bending down toward the earth with divine swiftness, cutting through the beast in one swift motion. Purple blood gushed from its neck, and it collapsed with an earth-shattering crash.

The Stormbringer's massive body hit the ground with a heavy thud, and its menacing head rolled into the sand, the lightning coursing through its form dissipating into nothingness.

Silence settled over the village.

Then, from the dust and debris, they appeared.

Clad in immaculate white armor, shining even in the storm's gloom, a battalion of warriors emerged with quiet precision. Their horses were noble and graceful, their movements calculated. The insignia of the Seraphic Order of Justice gleamed on their pauldrons—the holy enforcers of the Seraphic Theocracy.

The villagers, overwhelmed with awe and relief, began murmuring among themselves. "The Order..." someone whispered. "We're saved."

Silver stood there, staring at the gate, his mouth dry. His mind raced with confusion. He felt a sharp pain at his temple. Why did his body want to run? The Stormbringer was dead… so why this sense of dread?

The villagers were cheering now, lifting their weapons and helmets into the air, celebrating the arrival of their saviors. But the knights—those cold, implacable figures—did not smile. They stood in perfect formation, silent and impassive.

And then Silver noticed something. A lone rider, cloaked in a brown hood, was among them. The same knight he'd bumped into during yesterday's inspection. The same one he had thought was an insignificant figure. But now, Silver's heart skipped a beat.

The rider carried a child.

The child's face was tanned and dirty, but there was no mistaking it—it was Shu.

Silver's stomach turned. How had he missed it? Shu had gone missing after the meeting with Mira… How could he have blocked that out?

His fist clenched, but before he could move, Elder Cheonho grabbed his arm, his grip firm and unyielding. His expression told Silver all he needed to know: the Elder saw it too.

Shu's eyes were vacant, distant, as if he were staring at nothing at all. He was not the boy Silver remembered.

The knights approached the gates.

Their leader—a towering figure clad in gold-trimmed armor, the symbol of the Seraphic Order stamped proudly on his chest—surveyed the village with a look of detached superiority, his horse moving with practiced grace. When he spoke, his voice was cold and commanding, carrying a sharpness that cut through the still air.

"Godless. We are not here for you," he said, his eyes scanning the villagers with disdain.

The cheering stopped immediately. The villagers grew uneasy, the weight of his words settling over them like a stormcloud.

The village head stepped forward, bowing deeply. Silver followed suit, his mind reeling. "All shall kneel to the Seraphs. My light shall rule the world. What brings the Seraphic Order to our humble home?"

The knight didn't respond at first, his gaze cold, like he was considering the village head as one might inspect a piece of discarded debris.

Finally, he spoke, his voice laced with contempt. "Dokkaebi. I assume you are the head of this godless outpost?"

Cheonho flinched, his body stiffening. He bowed even lower, his face unreadable. "Indeed. I am the leader of this humble outpost. How may I be of service, honorable knight?"

"We have come to investigate an Apostolistic ruin," the knight replied, his tone clipped and businesslike. "One that lies near this village."

Silver's heart skipped. Apostolistic ruin? His stomach twisted. Could it be the same ruin…? But how would they know about it? No one else knew he'd been there.

The village head's face remained calm, but his eyes flickered with something Silver couldn't quite place. "Of course, honored ones. If you require guidance—"

The knight raised a hand to silence him, his head snapping to one side, as though sensing something. His gaze fixed on the village heart.

And there, emerging from her hut, was Mira.

Her hair flowed gently in the wind as she stepped forward, her face unreadable, but her eyes wide as she took in the scene. The knight's entire demeanor shifted. His body went stiff, his hand instinctively reaching for his sword.

"You…" he whispered, his voice barely audible, but heavy with recognition.

Mira froze. In her hands, she gripped the Black Steel Blade—Silver's gift—like it was the only thing anchoring her to the moment.

The knight's gaze darkened as he locked eyes with her. For a long moment, neither moved.

Then, with a flick of his hand, the knight drew his blade with a sharp, metallic sound that rang through the air.

"Burn the village."

The words struck like a death knell.

Gasps erupted from the villagers. Some turned to flee, while others reached for their weapons—only to falter under the overwhelming presence of the Seraphic Order.

Silver's breath caught in his throat. He took a step forward, his voice strained, desperate. "Wait—!!"

But before he could act, a powerful force swept through the air, oppressive and suffocating. It was as if the very fabric of the world was pressing down on him. Silver froze, his heart racing.

And then, Elder Cheonho exhaled, a deep, controlled breath.

He opened his eyes for the first time in years.

A wave of raw, ancient power erupted from him, shaking the earth beneath their feet. The air thickened, charged with an overwhelming energy. The elder's eyes glowed golden as he unleashed his power, the very essence of the earth itself trembling in response.

But the Order did not flinch.

The knight at the front tightened his grip on his sword, unbothered by the sheer force that rippled through the air. His eyes never left Mira, who stood her ground, despite the terror threatening to overwhelm her.

And just like that, the village stood on the precipice of war.