Chapter 34 The Saint and the Graves
Seraphine crested the ridge with her templar escort as the sun dipped low on the horizon, bathing the valley in deep crimson light. The sight that awaited them below stole the breath from her lungs.
Hundreds of civilians hung from the trees lining the ruined road like grotesque decorations. Men, women, and even a few children swayed gently in the evening breeze. Their bodies were still fresh, faces frozen in expressions of terror and agony. Crude wooden signs hung around each neck, burned with the same hateful message in bold letters:
\[FEED FOR THE HOLLOW KING.\]
Brother Aldric rode up beside her, his face grim. “This is the monster’s doing. He grows bolder and more depraved by the day.”
Seraphine dismounted without speaking and walked slowly down the blood-soaked road, her white-gold robes dragging through the dirt and gore. The stench of death was thick and overwhelming. She stopped beneath one of the bodies, a young woman no older than twenty, her eyes still open in frozen horror.
A squad of Crown soldiers and an Order captain stood among the corpses, supervising the grim scene. The captain approached her with a respectful bow.
“High Priestess Seraphine. We handled the traitor sympathizers as ordered. They were aiding the Hollow King’s forces. This display should draw the abomination out into the open where we can destroy him.”
Seraphine turned slowly to face him. Her silver eyes burned with barely contained fury. “Sympathizers? These people look like simple farmers and villagers. Where is your proof of treason?”
The captain gestured dismissively toward one of the hanging bodies. “They were found with stolen supplies. Some openly questioned the Crown’s tithes. In times of war, mercy is a luxury we cannot afford, Your Holiness.”
Seraphine stepped closer to a hanged man whose hands still bore the thick calluses of a blacksmith. No weapons. No armor. Just simple, worn clothing stained with blood. She noticed fresh whip marks on many of the bodies, marks that looked several days old, not from any recent confrontation.
“These people were tortured before they were executed,” she said, her voice low but sharp as a blade. “This was not justice. This was a deliberate massacre meant to provoke the Hollow King. You murdered innocent souls to lure him here.”
The captain’s face reddened with anger. “With all due respect, High Priestess, the Order gave clear orders. The frontier must be cleansed of corruption. These villagers were feeding the enemy with their dissent and disloyalty.”
Seraphine’s hands began to glow with unstable holy light. Streaks of silver kept breaking through the usual radiant gold. “I was sent here to destroy an undead threat, not to bless the slaughter of our own people. How many more villages will you burn and call it purification? How many more innocents must die before you admit what this truly is?”
Brother Aldric moved quickly to her side, gripping her arm. “Seraphine, enough. The captain is following protocol. Do not question the will of the Order in front of the men.”
But Seraphine pulled away from him sharply and stepped closer to the captain, her voice ringing with authority. “I dare speak the truth. If this is how we fight the Hollow King, then we have already lost our way. Look at them. Farmers. Mothers. Children. This is not the Radiant Veil’s light. This is darkness wearing our colors.”
The captain’s hand tightened on his sword hilt. Tension crackled through the air. The templars shifted uncomfortably. Some looked away. Others watched her with open shock and unease. For the first time in her life, the Saint of the Radiant Veil had openly challenged one of the Order’s own captains in front of witnesses.
Aldric’s grip on her arm tightened painfully. “High Priestess, you are exhausted from the long march. We will discuss this matter later in private.”
Seraphine yanked her arm free and continued walking further down the road of horrors. Her heart shattered with every swaying body she passed. This was the kingdom she had sworn to protect. This was the Order she had dedicated her entire life to serving.
She stopped beneath a large oak tree where an entire family hung together, a father, mother, and two small children. Tears burned in her eyes as she reached out with a glowing hand, intending to offer a small rite of mercy for their souls.
The moment her fingers brushed the father’s cold leg, something changed.
Every corpse hanging from the trees suddenly opened its eyes at once.
Hundreds of dead eyes snapped open in perfect unison, glowing with faint, sickly green light. Their heads turned slowly, unnaturally, toward Seraphine. Their mouths opened, and a collective whisper rose on the wind, repeating the same word over and over:
\[“Darius…”\]
\[“Darius…”\]
\[“Darius…”\]
Seraphine staggered backward in horror. The golden light around her exploded erratically, shifting violently into silver. The bodies began to twitch and jerk against their ropes, broken fingers reaching desperately toward her as the green glow in their eyes brightened.
Brother Aldric drew his sword. “Purify them! Now!”
But Seraphine could only stare in frozen horror as the massacred villagers, murdered and displayed in Darius’s name, called out to him from beyond death itself.
The Hollow King’s influence had already reached them.
And it was growing stronger with every passing moment.