Paragon of Destruction - Chapter 412 The Citadel

Chapter 412 The Citadel

Arran’s injury healed slower than he had expected, with the Desolation’s suppression affecting his blood just as strongly as it did his strength and magic.

Where he would normally recover from even the gravest wounds in a matter of hours — less, if he had enemies whose strength he could rob — it now took him two full days to recover. And even then, the wound had yet to heal completely.

Kaleesh had little sympathy for his condition, however.

“A wound like that would have killed a commoner,” he said with an indifferent shrug. “And even I would’ve taken weeks to recover. For you, it might serve as a lesson — that you’re not invincible.”

There was some truth to the captain’s words. Arran had long grown accustomed to shrugging off even the most grievous wounds, and if he didn’t believe he’d grown careless, exactly, perhaps he hadn’t been quite as careful as he should, either.

Because strong as he might be, Kaleesh was right about one thing — he was not invincible.

But if the time he spent recovering provided a valuable lesson, it was ill-spent otherwise. Two days of discussing the attack brought them no insights about who was responsible, and finally, they were forced to conclude that it could be almost anyone.

Even if they hadn’t been involved in Lord Kadun’s death and Arran hadn’t slain a Knight — two of them, by now — just being outsiders who dared command an army in the Desolation was enough to earn them numerous enemies. That the army was composed of prisoners only added to the scandal.

There could be little doubt that more attacks would follow, and while the Knight who’d attacked them in Sacrifice had been dangerous, those enemies who were waiting for the perfect moment to strike would be a far bigger threat.

That knowledge did little to soothe their frustration at not knowing who’d attacked them, and as they sat eating the unpleasant grub the innkeeper passed off as breakfast on their third day at the inn, Kaleesh let out a discontented sigh.

“I bet Lady Merem could find out,” he said, casting a distrustful look at the bowl of lumpy porridge on the table before him.

“Probably,” Arran agreed. “But if we expose whoever ordered the attack, we’ll involve the Lord backing them, as well.”

The attack had clearly been arranged by someone with a Lord’s backing. No one else could have ordered a Knight to attempt a murder in the heart of Sacrifice.

Which meant they could not expose this hidden enemy. If they exposed a Lord’s son or daughter, then the Lord would certainly not ignore it.

Better to give their enemy a path of retreat — a way to back down without losing face. Hopefully, losing a Knight would be enough of a setback to dissuade them from trying again.

“I suppose,” Kaleesh said, some reluctance remaining in his voice. “But I still dislike the idea of having an enemy lurking in the shadows.”

“As do I.” Arran swallowed down a bite of porridge, cringing at the slimy texture. “But we should visit Lady Merem today. We’ve been away from the army too long already.”

“That we have,” Kaleesh agreed, a trace of worry in his eyes. “Hopefully, we can finish our business in the city today. I trust Sassun with the army, but…”

Of course, Arran knew exactly what caused the captain concern. New as the army was, the troops’ loyalty was still a shaky thing. And the longer he and Kaleesh were gone, the higher the chances that trouble would arise.

He cast a glance at the mostly half-eaten bowl of porridge before him and grimaced. “Let’s go. We’ll eat something along the way.”

Kaleesh did not object to wasting coin for once, and a half-hour later they were moving along the city’s busy streets, eating grilled meat wrapped in flatbread as they walked.

“The city looks a lot more peaceful now,” Arran observed, his eyes on the pleasant bustle that filled the streets. They hadn’t left the inn while he recovered from his wound, and now, he almost found himself shocked by how different the city seemed in the early morning.

There weren’t many soldiers and Rangers on the streets, and among those he did see, none appeared drunk or rowdy — though more than a few bore the pained expressions of men who’d drunk too much the previous night. Other than that, however, there were mostly commoners, wandering about the shops and food stalls that lined the streets.

“Most soldiers should still be sleeping off last night’s ale,” Kaleesh said. “But don’t grow too comfortable. To get to the Citadel we’ll have to go through the southwestern quarter of the city, and that’s where most members of the Martial Alliance are.”

A frown crossed Arran’s face. “Think there will be trouble?”

“Probably not,” Kaleesh said, though he sounded far from certain. “But we should keep our eyes open all the same.”

As they moved into the southwestern quarter of the city, it soon became obvious that the captain had been right. While the Rangers on the streets still weren’t many, most of the small groups they saw cast suspicious looks in their direction, whispering amongst themselves as the two walked past.

“It seems word of our arrival has spread already.” Kaleesh looked at the Rangers curiously, unruffled by their hostile stares. “And further than I had expected.”

Arran could only agree. He’d known they would draw attention, but he hadn’t expected that they’d be recognized by almost every Ranger they saw. And while he wasn’t too worried about another assassination attempt — not in broad daylight, at least — even a simple brawl could easily get out of hand.

Yet for all the dark looks the Rangers cast in their direction, none said anything. Instead, they slunk back whenever Arran and Kaleesh passed — not quite so fast that it could be considered fleeing, but fast enough that their intention was clear.

If nothing else, it seemed that Arran’s defeat of the Knight on the road to Sacrifice had served as a warning to any would-be harassers.

And as the Rangers took pains to avoid crossing their path, the soldiers and commoners on the street did the same, quickly moving out of the way wherever Arran and Kaleesh went. While they might not recognize the two, anyone Rangers steered clear of was clearly worth avoiding.

A small smile crossed Kaleesh’s face as he noticed the streets clearing. “I could grow to like this,” he said. “It certainly makes for a peaceful journey.”

“For now,” Arran replied in a flat tone, making no attempt to hide his unease.

Perhaps the Rangers they encountered so far did not dare to make a move, but with the sheer number of hostile stares they received, it was only a matter of time before one gathered the courage to confront them.

When that happened, others might rediscover their bravery, as well.

Arran’s misgivings were confirmed barely five minutes later, when a young Ranger appeared on the street before them. There were two Knights at his side and half a dozen other Rangers following behind him, all of them dressed in immaculate uniforms of blue and black.

And unlike the groups they’d encountered so far, this one showed no sign of stepping aside.

Kaleesh let out a deep sigh, then said wistfully, “I suppose it was too good to last.” He gave Arran a sideways glance. “Best you let me do the talking.”

Arran didn’t get the chance to ask any questions. They reached the group just a few moments later, forced to halt as the Rangers and Knights showed no sign of moving out of the way.

For several moments, neither side spoke. Instead, the Rangers looked at Arran and Kaleesh with wary eyes, their posture tense and their hands hovering near the hilts of their swords. And although the Knights appeared more at ease, even their eyes were tense with anticipation.

Finally, it was Kaleesh who broke the silence. “Matas.” He gave the young Ranger an unenthusiastic smile. “I hadn’t expected to meet you here.”

Arran recognized the name at once. Matas was the Ranger whose army he’d seen in Knight’s Watch, and whose underling he’d taught a small lesson. The son of Lord Ravir, as Arjun had said.

The young Ranger did not reply immediately. Instead, he cast a dark look at the two, a contemptuous sneer on his otherwise handsome face. When he finally spoke, his voice was thick with disdain.

“Kaleesh. You have no business in this part of the city.”

“There’s an Imperial Knight who disagrees,” Kaleesh replied. “I can’t imagine she’d be happy to hear you blocked us from visiting the Citadel.”

Surprise flashed across the Ranger’s face, but he regained his composure almost instantly. “I cannot bar you from the Citadel, but do not believe you can provoke the Martial Alliance without consequence. Not after the part you played in the betrayal of Lord Kadun.”

“Lord Rannoc was the one who killed him,” Kaleesh replied, a hint of weariness in his voice. “Though Kadun’s fate was well-deserved.”

Matas’s expression turned to one of barely suppressed fury. “Lord Kadun was an honorable—”

“He was an idiot,” Kaleesh cut him off. “An idiot who turned a blind eye as his stewards exploited newcomers, treating allies as if they were slaves. Had he acted honorably, he might still be alive.”

Matas struggled for words, his expression a mixture of anger and doubt. “Do not think I will believe such vile allegations,” he finally spat. “I will not allow you to besmirch his name.”

“Besmirch his name?” Kaleesh gave the Ranger an amused look. “Kadun’s treatment of newcomers was hardly a secret. And from what I’ve heard about you, you are far too honorable a man to defend such things.”

The Ranger had no answer to this. For several seconds he stood in silence, appearing at a loss for words. Then, with a sharp movement, he turned to his men. “We’re leaving.”

Arran watched with furrowed brow as the Ranger’s party departed. Once the group was out of earshot, he turned to Kaleesh. “Well done, I think?”

The captain offered a satisfied smirk. “Extremely well, I would say. Matas believes himself a righteous hero — the kind of man who treats even his enemies justly. He might have little love for outsiders, but he has even less respect for rulers who act like Kadun.”

“So he isn’t a threat?”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Kaleesh replied. “Right now, he’s torn between loyalty to his father’s allies and distaste for Kadun’s actions. But if he ever figures out where he stands, he could become a dangerous enemy.” He shrugged, and added, “Fortunately, he’s not exactly known for his quick wit.”

Arran nodded in understanding. “Then let’s hope he doesn’t figure it out. We have enough enemies as it is.”

They set off toward the Citadel once more, finding no further delays along the way. After another half-hour of walking through the city’s busy streets, they finally saw the fortress appear in the distance.

If the Sanctum had been a place of beauty, with even its outer walls carved from white marble, the Citadel was wholly different. Built to be functional rather than inviting, its walls were erected from simple gray stone, rough and undecorated. And the same held true for the buildings that rose above the walls, as well. Simple and practical, they were clearly built for function rather than form.

Still, imposing as the fortress appeared, it was obvious that its walls weren’t built to withstand the Blight. Rather, they were made to keep out simple intruders. Against a serious assault, they would barely be a delay.

But then, there was no need for real defenses. The true fortress was Sacrifice itself, and a force that could breach such a bulwark would have no trouble disposing of any walls men could erect.

When they reached the Citadel’s gate, they found it guarded by two dozen soldiers, headed by a single Knight. As they approached, the Knight stepped forward.

“Your business?”

“We’ve come to see Lady Merem,” Arran said.

The Knight gave a small nod, then motioned to one of the soldiers. “Take these two to Lady Merem.”

For a moment, Arran was surprised at how easily the Knight let them pass. Yet after giving it a moment’s thought, he realized there was no need to verify whether they were speaking the truth.

If they had lied, Lady Merem herself was perfectly capable of handling the situation herself. And from what he knew of her, any unwanted visitors would certainly regret their mistake.

As the soldier led them through the gates, Arran saw that the Citadel was exactly as he’d imagined, filled with austere barracks and well-used training fields upon which hundreds of recruits were practicing, their clothes already drenched with sweat despite the early hour.

Most would hardly consider the sight an inviting one, but Arran felt something close to envy as he looked at it. This was a place for practice, sleep, and little else, and it was obvious that those who resided here were fully dedicated to increasing their strength.

“I wouldn’t envy them too much,” Kaleesh said, sensing what was on Arran’s mind. “I’ll bet you a pure shadowmetal coin that this place has just as much backstabbing and politics as any other.” He grinned as he shot a glance at the soldier escorting them. “Isn’t that right?”

The man gave a non-committal shrug, though his eyes betrayed a hint of weariness. “The road to strength holds many obstacles.” 

“I didn’t take the bet,” Arran grumbled. From the soldier’s reaction, it was obvious that Kaleesh had been right.

It made sense that the Citadel would have its share of schemes and intrigue, of course. Lady Merem’s power left Arran in awe, and for a chance at power like that, many would not hesitate to betray even their best friends.

But even so, Arran had hoped the Citadel might be different — an isle of calm amid the storm of intrigue, where strength rather than influence mattered.

He sighed as his eyes wandered across the practicing recruits before turning his attention back to the soldier. “How much farther is it?”

“Not too far,” the man replied. “We should find Lady Merem in her practice yard. It’s where she spends most of her time.”

His words proved true, and a few minutes later they reached a walled garden within the Citadel. Secluded from the rest of the area, it was clearly created for solitude as much as it was for practice, and when they stepped through the wooden gate they were immediately met with the sight of Lady Merem.

She stood on the grass with sword in hand, their arrival seemingly having interrupted her practice. Yet as she turned to face the unexpected visitors, her expression showed no sign of surprise.

“You may leave,” she instructed the soldier. The man bowed and left, after which she turned her attention to Arran and Kaleesh. “I had expected you to visit, but not quite as soon as this. I assume something happened?”

Arran briefly considered his words, then decided there was no point in dancing around the issue. He’d chosen to trust Lady Merem over the church, and now, all that remained was a leap of faith.

He calmed his nerves as best he could. Then, his voice more confident than he felt, he said, “I have the Ruiner’s bloodline. And the church wants it.”

This time, a flash of surprise crossed Lady Merem’s face, though it lasted only a second before she spoke, “Draw your weapons, both of you.”

Arran hesitantly did as she said, wondering whether he’d just made the greatest — and perhaps last — mistake of his life. Yet as both he and Kaleesh drew their swords and faced Lade Merem uncomfortably, she gave a thoughtful nod.

“We will spar while you talk,” she said. “Now tell me what happened.”

Before Arran had a chance to object, she lunged forward in a sudden attack that he only barely parried. He managed a clumsy retreat, yet even as he moved, Lady Merem turned to Kaleesh, striking a single sharp blow that caused the captain to stumble backward as well.

For several moments, it was all they could do to ward off Lady Merem’s attacks. Her skill was masterful, and the effort of defending themselves left not the slightest bit of opportunity for counterattacks — much less the explanation she had demanded.

She appeared to realize this as well, and after the first few moments, her attacks slowed, if only slightly. “Talk,” she said. “And do mind your defense.” She emphasized those last words with a quick flick of her sword that brought the blade’s edge to within a hair’s breadth of Arran’s throat, faster than he could even attempt to block or parry it.

Though Arran was unnerved by her display of skill, he could not help but breathe a silent sigh of relief. If she was correcting his technique, it meant she did not intend to see him dead. At least, not yet.

“I only just learned it’s called the Ruiner’s bloodline,” he began, “but I gained it long ago…”

Lady Merem slowed her attacks enough to allow him to speak, but she did not let up any more than that, and he spent the half-hour that followed simultaneously telling his story and unsuccessfully trying to match her far-superior skill.

The pressure of sparring left little room for careful thought, and had Arran tried to spin an elaborate web of lies, he surely would have failed — which was doubtless Lady Merem’s intention.

Yet he’d known before coming to the Citadel that straying too far from the truth would end badly. And so, instead of inventing an entirely new story, he merely moved the setting several thousands of miles eastwards, beyond the Shadowflame Society’s mountains and to the lands of the Jiang clan in the Empire.

Other than that, he changed little, truthfully explaining that he’d inadvertently gained a flawed version of the Devourer’s bloodline and that he’d only been saved from madness through the blood of a dragon. He left out all parts related to magic, of course, but the result was still a tale that was more true than not.

Lady Merem frowned in wonder several times as he told the story, but she neither objected nor interrupted. Instead, she merely listened, only occasionally using the brief pauses between her attacks to ask additional questions.

Only when Arran’s story reached his visit to the Sanctum did Lady Merem’s attacks come to an end — and none too soon, as both Arran and Kaleesh were already close to collapsing from exhaustion.

“An interesting tale,” she said, her expression thoughtful. “And outrageous as it is, I’m inclined to believe it. However…” She paused, fixing her eyes on Arran. “You say you spurned the church’s gift. Why?”

This time, Arran replied without hesitation. “I don’t trust them.”

“But you do trust me?” A smile crossed her face, as if his words greatly amused her.

“More than I trust Roshan,” Arran said truthfully. “And I figured I had to choose between the two of you.”

She inclined her head slightly, the gesture stopping just short of a nod. “As luck would have it, you chose correctly. Had you accepted his gift, you would have died before the year was over.”

Arran narrowed his eyes. “He would have killed me?” Though he understood why Lady Merem might claim such a thing, he silently thought that it made little sense. Roshan wanted his bloodline, after all.

“Not at all,” Lady Merem replied. “He would have given both bloodlines as promised, and more besides — a corrupted bloodline, one that would have bound you to his service as surely as a chain around your neck. Naturally, I would not have allowed that.”

A mirthless smile crossed Arran’s face. As expected, there had been more to the church’s offer than just generosity. “I take it you don’t want the Ruiner’s bloodline in the hands of the church?”

“I do not,” she said. “As you already guessed, we Imperial Knights possess the Ruiner’s bloodline, and the church seeks this power for itself. It’s a foolish endeavor, but we cannot allow it.”

Arran raised an eyebrow. Though he understood why they wanted to keep the bloodline to themselves, the church’s desire for it hardly seemed foolish. Its power was considerable, after all. “Foolish?” he asked. “How so?”

“Bloodlines are not mere treasures to be taken at will. Without truly mastering them, one can only touch on the edges of their power.” She cast a glance at Arran, and continued, “You will learn of that when you truly join our ranks. For now, all you must know is that for all its wealth, the church has yet to learn how to use its treasures.”

Her tone made it clear that she would speak no more of the matter. If Arran wanted to learn about mastering bloodlines, his only path was to join the Imperial Knights.

Still, Arran relaxed at her words. While there was much she hadn’t yet told him, what she said did answer his most urgent question.

“I take it you’re not going to kill me, then?”

“Kill you?” A peal of laughter came forth from the Lady’s lips. “And waste a perfect opportunity to teach the church a costly lesson? I think not. Wait here. I will return shortly.”

She departed promptly, and as she left, Kaleesh gave Arran a contemplative look. “It seems your bet paid off.” He paused, then added in a low voice, “What you said about the dragon…”

“It’s true,” Arran replied in an equally soft voice. “For the most part, anyway.”

Kaleesh muttered a curse. “You really are a lucky bastard.”

When Lady Merem returned some minutes later, her lips were curled in a devious smile. “When you leave here,” she said to Arran, “you will go straight to the Sanctum, where you will accept Roshan’s gracious gift without delay.”

Arran raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t you say he intends to give me a corrupted bloodline?”

“He does,” she confirmed. “A corrupted version of the Hungerer’s bloodline, which will increase your power by consuming your body’s foundation. At first, you will see only benefits — greater strength and speed, stamina beyond your wildest dreams. Yet as your foundation is slowly consumed, you will begin to experience spells of weakness, each more severe than the last. Only with the church’s help will you be able to stave off death.”

Her words were hardly reassuring, and Arran’s frown deepened. “But you still want me to take this bloodline?”

“Indeed I do,” she replied. She tossed him a small black vial, made from pure shadowmetal to obscure the contents. “The liquid within contains the Hungerer’s true bloodline. You are to take it after you receive the church’s gifts. Immediately, mind you — before the corrupted bloodline can take hold.”

Arran cast a doubtful look at the small vial. “What does it do?”

“Its effects are similar to the corrupted bloodline,” Lady Merem replied, “but where the corrupted version feeds upon your own strength, the true bloodline will draw in strength from your surroundings.”

Arran remained silent for several moments. Then, as understanding dawned in his mind, he began, “With the Ruiner’s bloodline…”

Before he could finish the words, Lady Merem flashed him a smile — a warm one, this time. “I do not think I need to explain just how potent the combination is.”

Arran weakly shook his head, barely registering her words as he considered the implications of what he’d just learned.

The Blood Ruin — the fusion of the Ruiner’s and Devourer’s bloodlines — was already frighteningly powerful. It allowed him to absorb Natural Essence without any need for Body Refinement techniques, strengthening his body at a rate others could scarcely imagine.

Yet for all its power, it still had constraints. To gain strength, he needed a source of Natural Essence — the meat of monsters or the lives of enemies. And although his void ring currently held an ample supply of monster meat, there was a limit to how much of it he could consume.

A dragon like Crassus had no such problems. He could devour barn-sized beasts — dragons or otherwise — in a single bite, taking only seconds to seize power that would require Arran years to amass.

However, if the Hungerer’s bloodline drew power from the world around him, he would no longer be limited by how much he could eat or kill.

There were Body Refinement techniques that worked similarly, of course. By focusing one’s efforts, it was possible to gather Natural Essence from the world itself. Such techniques required constant effort, however, and even then they only provided a trickle of power.

But Lady Merem would not speak of the bloodline’s potency if its benefits were so small. Which meant that its power must be considerable.

Still, as Arran thought about this, another question occurred to him. “These bloodlines… Do all Imperial Knights have them?”

“Naturally,” Lady Merem replied. “Though most of us don’t gain them quite as quickly as you, these bloodlines form the core of our foundation.”

Arran pondered her answer for a moment, then asked, “Why are you giving me this?”

“Over the next year,” Lady Merem said, “you will regularly visit Roshan. Each time you do, you will complain that you’ve been experiencing spells of weakness. He will inform you that there’s a problem with the Ruiner’s bloodline, while offering treatment to keep your condition from worsening.”

Arran furrowed his brow, unsure of what she was getting at. “And then?”

Although Lady Merem wore an even expression, a glean of amusement appeared in her eyes. “A corrupted Hungerer’s bloodline can be stabilized, but only at a cost so great that even the church feels it. In fact, the cost of doing so is precisely the cost of raising a Paladin.”

Though Kaleesh looked on with a dumbfounded expression, sudden comprehension dawned in Arran’s eyes.

If a corrupted Hungerer’s bloodline drew strength by consuming one’s foundation, then the only way to stabilize it would naturally be to consume vast amounts of Natural Essence — to strengthen one’s foundation so much it could withstand being plundered by the corrupted bloodline.

Which meant that he would receive benefits even greater than the true Hungerer’s bloodline. The greatest reward for choosing the Imperial Knights and deceiving the church would ultimately be given by the church itself.

But beautiful as the plan was, its success depended on one thing — fooling the church. And that was something he still had doubts about.

“Won’t Roshan realize that I have the true Hungerer’s bloodline?” he asked, forehead creased in a worried frown. He was all but certain that Archons could see bloodlines, and he had little interest in finding out what happened if Roshan discovered the deception.

Lady Merem simply shook her head, her expression showing not even the slightest hint of concern. “The difference between true bloodlines and corrupted ones isn’t easily recognized, even by Archons. Moreover, Roshan has no reason to investigate a bloodline he believes he gave you himself.”

Arran considered her words for some moments, and found that he still wasn’t entirely convinced — not with his own life in the balance. “Won’t he become suspicious once he discovers that I visited you?”

Once again, she shook her head. “He knows that we do not allow those outside our ranks to carry our bloodlines. When you depart the Citadel, he will know that you weren’t so foolish as to tell me about your bloodline.” She narrowed her eyes as she looked at them. “But then, he doesn’t know that I already consider you — both of you — recruits in all but name.”

She spoke in a friendly voice, but the warning in her words was unmistakable.

The only reason they were still alive was that Lady Merem expected them to eventually join the Imperial Knights. Should that ever change, it wasn’t difficult to imagine what the outcome would be.

“Understood.” Arran gave a nod, then continued with some hesitation, “There’s something else you should know. After we met on the battlefield, I saved Negin’s life by giving her my blood.”

At his words, a loud curse burst forth from Lady Merem’s lips. “You idiot!” she snapped. “If you hadn’t told me—” She caught herself mid-sentence, the fury fleeing her eyes as quickly as it had come. “But I suppose you did tell me, and not too late for the girl to be saved.”

“The bloodline is corrupted?” By now, Arran had an inkling of how bloodlines worked, and he already understood that passing one on wasn’t as easy as he’d once believed.

“Naturally,” she said. “With your lack of strength and control, how could it not be?” She gave a long sigh, then continued, “Leave, and do not be quick in returning. Undoing the damage you’ve caused will not be a simple matter.”

With that, she turned away, speaking no further words as she left the walled garden. Her steps betrayed a hint of urgency, however — that, and frustration.

“I suppose we’ll have to show ourselves out.” Kaleesh cast a sideways glance at Arran. “Unless you plan on antagonizing any more of the Imperium’s rulers? I doubt we’ll find the Imperator himself here, but there should be some Lords around.”

Arran ignored the jibe — especially since it had the ring of truth to it — and they silently made their way out of the Citadel, neither of them willing to speak where others could hear.

When they departed the Citadel some minutes later, Kaleesh’s expression turned serious. “A dangerous woman, that,” he said, a thoughtful look in his eyes.

“Even more so than you think,” Arran replied, casting an uncomfortable glance over his shoulder at the Citadel behind them.

“That hardly seems possible.” Kaleesh raised an eyebrow. “Just from what she showed while we sparred, I have no doubt that she could match a Lord.”

Arran shook his head. “She’s stronger than that. Unless I’m mistaken, she’d have no more trouble defeating a Lord than she’d have defeating us.”

“You really believe she’s that strong?” Kaleesh asked, a hint of incredulity in his eyes.

“That, and then some,” Arran responded. “You heard what she said about the Hungerer’s bloodline, as well as how it combines with the Ruiner’s bloodline. Given enough time, there’s no limit to how much power one could gain with those two things.”

Kaleesh remained silent for some seconds, stroking his chin as his expression turned thoughtful. When he finally spoke there was some doubt in his voice. “But in the end, doesn’t all of that just amount to a more effective method of Body Refinement?”

Arran gave a wry smile. “Remember that dragon I mentioned? He had the strength to flatten mountains, and that strength was built on nothing but a more effective method of Body Refinement and plenty of time.”

“But she’s not a dragon,” the captain pointed out. “That should count for something.”

“She has a Lord’s comprehension and strength that should dwarf my own. Not to mention what she said about mastering bloodlines.” Arran shook his head. “Given the choice, I’d much rather face a dragon.”

Kaleesh remained silent for some moments before giving a pensive nod. “I suppose it’s a good thing she’s on our side, then. Though it seems I underestimated the church.”

This time, it was Arran who frowned in puzzlement. “The church? How so?”

The captain scratched his chin. “It’s no secret that of the Imperium’s major factions, the Imperator’s has always been the weakest. And if his Knights are as strong as you say, then the other factions must be stronger than I realized.”

Arran cast a glance in the direction of the Sanctum, his expression thoughtful. “You might be right,” he finally said, “but they were our enemies to begin with, and not ones we can face by ourselves.”

“True,” Kaleesh replied. “Still, I suggest you guard your secrets well. Once the church discovers our deception, I doubt the pretense of friendliness will last. And when they become our enemies in earnest, we’ll need Lady Merem’s protection.”

“Then we’d best hurry to the Sanctum,” Arran said, his face breaking into a grin as he spoke, “and pluck the church’s fruits while we still can.”