Chapter 8 – The Heir
Cordelia walked alone through the desolate desert, her footsteps light but purposeful against the scorched sand. Wind howled across the wasteland, carrying with it the ghosts of forgotten battles and the scent of dried blood. The sun hung heavy in the sky, casting long shadows across broken stones and bleached bones.
"Today..." she whispered to herself, shielding her eyes from the glare, "...I'll search for my parents near that abandoned city."
Her voice was soft, but her eyes burned with determination. Each day was a struggle, and every lead she followed ended in silence or sorrow—but she refused to give up. Somewhere in this cursed world, her parents were waiting.
Suddenly—clang... clang... clang...—the sharp, rhythmic clash of swords broke the quiet.
Cordelia froze. Her ears perked up.
"What's that noise?" she murmured, her heart skipping a beat. "Sounds like swords... Could it be my parents?!"
Without a second thought, she sprinted toward the sound, sand kicking up behind her as adrenaline surged through her veins. As she neared the crumbling remnants of a long-abandoned settlement, the noise grew louder—more desperate.
Then a voice echoed through the ruins:
"Come on, you bastards! I'll defeat all of you, take the inheritance, and protect everyone at the orphanage!"
Cordelia stopped and pressed her back against a broken wall. Carefully, she peeked around the corner.
There, in the middle of a wide plaza surrounded by toppled statues and broken columns, a teenage boy stood—barely.
He was wounded, one leg soaked in blood, and yet he held his ground. Ten skeletal knights in rusted armor circled him, eyes glowing faintly red, swords raised.
"He doesn't stand a chance..." Cordelia whispered, fists clenched. "He's just a human..."
Her eyes narrowed. She felt a familiar warmth stirring inside her, ancient and powerful.
She placed a hand over her chest and muttered, "Divine Possession."
In an instant, her body was enveloped in radiant light. Her brown hair shimmered and turned golden, her green eyes glowed like emeralds touched by starlight. A pair of delicate white ram horns spiraled from her head, and her clothes shifted into graceful, glowing armor that shimmered with divine energy.
Wasting no time, she ran forward, magic building beneath her feet with each step.
With a single mighty leap, she soared into the air and landed in the midst of the skeletal warriors. The ground cracked beneath her feet, and with one glowing kick infused with pure light magic, she unleashed a powerful shockwave.
BOOM!
Bones shattered. Armor flew in all directions. The explosion lit up the plaza like a miniature sun.
When the dust finally settled, the undead soldiers lay scattered in pieces.
Cordelia turned—and gasped. The boy lay unconscious, blown back by the force of the blast, his sword lying several feet away.
She ran to him and knelt beside his limp form.
"Hey... hey, are you okay?" she asked, gently shaking him.
He groaned faintly, eyelids fluttering, and for a brief moment, his gaze met hers.
Green eyes.
Then he passed out.
"Looks like he passed out..." Cordelia murmured, letting her divine aura fade. The golden glow dimmed, her hair turned back to brown, her horns vanished, and her armor melted into a simple tunic and cloak.
She was just a girl again—but her presence still carried the echo of something celestial.
Cordelia scanned the area. The threat was gone, but her instincts told her to stay alert.
Satisfied they were alone, she looked down at the boy.
"He's still breathing... Good."
She bit her lip, unsure what to do next. Then she looked at the empty ruins, and a sigh escaped her lips.
"I can't leave him here. And it's been so long since I've seen another human..."
She bent down, lifted him carefully onto her back, and carried him through the ruined city to a hidden shelter she had claimed as her own. It was a small, half-buried house, mostly intact, with walls that still held strong against the desert winds.
Inside, she laid him down gently on an old, dusty couch, its fabric faded and torn, but still usable.
Cordelia stood over him for a moment, then whispered, "Cancel."
All traces of divine power faded, leaving her fully mortal again. She knelt beside him and pulled up his pants leg.
Her heart sank. His leg was badly injured—deep gashes, bruising, and a fracture. He was lucky to be alive.
She spotted several small vials strapped to his belt—healing potions.
Cordelia frowned. "Why didn't he use these?"
Then her expression softened.
"He probably panicked. A beginner's mistake—trying to play the hero and forgot what he had..."
She opened one of the vials and gently lifted his head, pouring the potion between his lips. The liquid glowed faintly as it flowed down his throat. Within seconds, the worst of his wounds began to close.
Cordelia sat back with a sigh of relief. She tucked the empty vial away and pulled a blanket over him.
"Now... I just have to wait for you to wake up."
Minutes passed. Then an hour. She busied herself cleaning his wounds further and preparing some water. She studied his face. Young. Maybe her age. Dark hair, messy. Eyes—when they had opened—green, like hers.
Then, all at once—
"Ahhh!"
The boy gasped and sat up in panic, eyes darting around wildly.
"Where am I?!"
Cordelia, calm and composed, sat beside him, a small fire flickering between them.
"You're in my home. I saved you," she said gently. Then she tilted her head, curiosity in her voice.
"Now... can you tell me how you ended up here?"
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