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The Ashes of Oakhaven: Rise of the Sunbound Heir / Chapter 8 / 10

Chapter 8 - The Fall of the Inquisitor

The rune-etched greatsword whistled through the air, carrying enough dark enchantments to shatter stone and sever a dragon's spine.

Kaelen didn't dodge, nor did he draw a weapon. He raised his bare hands, catching the razor-sharp edge of the greatsword between his palms.

CRACK!

The anti-magic runes flared green, trying to drain Kaelen’s energy, but the sheer volume of the Solari bloodline overwhelmed the dark spellwork. The runes shattered like cheap glass, and the greatsword snapped into three jagged pieces under the pressure of Kaelen’s grip.

Malakor’s eyes widened in sheer, unadulterated horror. "What... what are you?!"

"I am the reckoning," Kaelen answered coldly.

With a swift motion, Kaelen stepped inside the Inquisitor’s guard and struck him squarely in the chest with an open palm coated in brilliant white flame.

There was no explosion, just a soft hum of absolute purification. The dark, corrupted magic that had sustained Malakor’s twisted life force for decades was stripped away in a single second. The Inquisitor staggered backward, his skin turning pale, his armor rusting instantly into orange dust. He collapsed into the dirt, entirely powerless, gasping for breath as the weight of his sins caught up with him.

The remaining templars dropped their weapons, falling to their knees in sheer terror as they realized their weapons and faith were entirely useless against this divine wrath.

Kaelen turned around immediately, kneeling in the dirt before Lyra and Joran. The fierce, terrifying glow in his eyes softened instantly into a warm, gentle amber.

"Are you hurt?" Kaelen asked, his voice trembling slightly as he gently brushed a lock of wet hair from Lyra’s forehead.

Lyra shook her head, tears streaming down her face as she threw her arms around his neck, burying her face in his shoulder. Joran joined the hug a second later, wrapping his small arms tightly around Kaelen’s waist.

"We knew you’d come back," Joran sniffled, looking up at him with unshakeable hero worship. "We knew the bad men couldn't beat you."

Kaelen closed his eyes, holding them close. For the first time in twenty years, the freezing emptiness in his chest was replaced by an overwhelming warmth. He wasn't just a survivor anymore. He was a protector.

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