Kael turned in surprise, but the only presence behind him was the cathedral's great silver halo, floating weightless in the rafters. He scratched the side of his helm. Did I imagine a voice?A personal word from the Goddess of Light seemed unlikely; every fiber of his armor reeked of the Boon of Dusk.
Footsteps broke the doubt. Lira hurried back, ushering a tense-faced priest.
"Just as you asked—I brought Father Pale…"
"Maria!"The cleric rushed forward, cradling the lifeless woman. Kael and Lira withdrew to a respectful distance.
When Pale's sobs faded, he approached the Dread Sentinel and offered a hand."Pale, servant‐priest of the Light."
A priest ranked third-circle or higher, Kael guessed; the man's eyes held deeper power than Maria's ever had. He accepted the shake.
"Kael."
"You are, to my knowledge, the first Dread Sentinel to enter this church since the treaty," Pale said with a crooked smile. "The stir outside will be monumental."
"Likely," Kael answered. Politics bored him.
"I came to relay Maria's last words."
Lira opened her mouth, but Kael waved her off. "Not for your ears."
She retreated, pouting.
Kael lowered his voice. "She said she was grateful—especially to you—and begged that message remain private."
"That is exactly Maria," Pale murmured, grief and peace mingling. "Her smile told me she passed without regret, thanks to you. I am indebted."
"I already received her payment." Kael produced the faintly glowing ring. "Know what this is?"
Recognition flashed in Pale's eyes. "Ring of Faith. A relic that awakens a hidden gift once, if the wearer's soul is pure and the desire sincere."
"Pure soul," Kael echoed, amused. "Not much use to someone like me. Any idea what it fetches on the market?"
The priest gaped. Lira, eavesdropping, glared as though Kael were garbage.
"Please don't sell it," Pale pleaded. "If Maria entrusted it to you, there is a purpose."
"I only wondered at the price," Kael replied. "I hadn't planned to—"
"We'll discuss value another time," Lira cut in. "Your companion's waiting with the cart."
Kael inclined his head and strode out beside her. The faithful murmured as he passed; rumor of a black knight within the sunlit halls would race across Iron before nightfall.
Leon paced anxiously near the wagon. "I feared they'd drag you off, sir!"
"Nothing of the sort. Drive."
The gnome snapped the reins toward the Mercenary Guild. There, Kael piled the fallen warriors' gear on the cobbles. Garland emerged, puzzled.
"That's—"
"Their equipment. See if it reaches their families."
The guild master nodded and led Kael upstairs. In a private office, the Sentinel recounted every detail of the ambush, the poison, and the truth about Miles.
When Kael finished, Garland rubbed his beard. "So the Mawbear story was a ruse. He planned a final haul before fleeing. I suspected… but had no proof. Your report spares us a long pursuit."
"You placed me there to end him."
"A hunch, yes. Sometimes hunches pay off." Garland slid a thin iron plate across the desk. "Consider the entrance exam passed."
"Straight to Iron rank?" Kael raised a brow.
"I'm permitted to skip copper for exceptional talent—and the world's burning, friend. We need steel like yours. Few clients trust a Dread Sentinel so that the work will be filthy and lethal."
"That suits me."
Garland chuckled. "Refreshing honesty."
Kael pocketed the plate, then handed over Miles's badge and those of the traitorous crew. "Evidence," he said. "And I'd like the reward sent to Maria's orphanage, under Pale's name."
Garland's eyes softened. "It will be done."
Business concluded, Kael left the guild. Leon had already coaxed the wagon toward the southern slums to meet his black-market contacts. Kael adjusted the newly claimed warhammer on his back, feeling its weight settle with purpose.
Behind him, cathedral bells tolled for a departed sister.Somewhere inside the iron shell, a quiet place remembered what mourning used to feel like—and let the sound linger a moment longer before marching on.