Chapter 166

Chapter 166

Harris Aeacus did his best to hide his disdain for the lower city. After all, the archbishop had sent him here to carry out his holy mission. He dare not wag his tongue about how the residents of the lower city were so far lost to their corruption that they were better off left to wallow in their filth.

Harris was an archdeacon the church of Olattee in the city of Maltis. Hed been offered a promotion to high priest to run a temple away from the city in a small town or village. Naturally, he had turned them down. Places like that did not deserve the ministries of one so pure as himself. He devoted himself to furthering Olattee and the great city of Maltis, as much as he hated the lower town, and felt it should be purged from the earth, his job was to minister to them.

Bishop Quintus was far too quick to suck up to the archbishop and had dispatched Harris to support Bishop Dolores in the lower city. The incompetent woman had let the lower city go so far that her temple was overrun by filthy people who couldnt even feed themselves properly. Harris knew he was known for being too harsh, so he kept his divinely given insight to himself.

Truly anyone who knew the great god of Olattee would know that these wretched people were a stain on his name. They claim to follow the church, but clearly they did not. It was no wonder that wretched Friar Brown had lifted his hand against the great god of purity when even his own followers no longer walked the divine path.

But the day was finally over, and Harris was going to make the long trek back to his abode in Maltis proper. Crossing over the bridge would take time, but it was better than staying in the wretched cells of the lower temple. Holiness, the guards stationed at the base of the bridge acknowledged him. Have a safe trip home.

Harris did not respond as he walked past, trying to let the holy light of Olattee within shine and purify the lowly guards by his mere presence. He was just about to step onto the bridge when a loud caw drew his attention. He looked over in disgust at a large black raven that landed on the bridge.

Ravens were vile creatures who feasted on the dead and loitered with the unclean. More cawing sounded. Sweeping out of the night into the illumination of the bridge, a flock of ravens landed on the railings and the floor of the bridge.

Harris could hardly move as raven after raven appeared out of the blackness into the illumination of torches on the bridge.

Filthy creatures, Harris muttered, grabbing the scepter hung around his waist. It was made out of the purest silver metal, the perfect instrument of his divine judgment, one hed saved up for years.

Yes, the temple provided their own with equipment, but those were made of poor materials, further proof of how far the church had fallen. Those who serve the pure one should have nothing but the best. The argument that the money was diverted to those in need was complete heresy in Harriss mind. How could the servants of the pure one truly bring his light into the world with impure instruments of their will? How was one to reflect the purity of Olattee with something that was not pure itself.

White light burned in the head of the scepter, illuminating the holy symbol of Olattee. Archdeacon Harris would smite these vile creatures and rid the world of their filth. Just as he was about to unleash his divine fury on the ravens, he heard something.

Harris poured huge amounts of magic into his spell, depleting his reserves, confident that his mighty power would end whatever this was. So much power was pushed in that it once again broke apart the fog. As the lightning ended, hundreds of zombies fell dead once again to the ground. The first zombie hed struck dissipated into ash.

Using that much power exhausted Harris, and he drank a mana potion, trying not to let the weariness show to the guards who were staring at him in awe. As the fog began to roll forward, suppressing light and sound, a new sound reached them. The rhythmic thumping of feet. And then the sound of heavy footfalls.

In the distance, two orbs of bright, purple eldritch light burned through the shroud. A moment later, more of the purple light appeared as ribbons of flames. Distinct shapes took form as more of that unholy light appeared.

The fog seemed to lessen ever so slightly, and a solid row of figures could be seen marching down the road, the eldritch fire in front of them resolving into monsters mounted on horrific steeds. In front road a man with a single large scythe hooked over his head. His eyes burned with power.

The figures charged. The guards screamed and turned to rush toward their shack just in time to see a slender figure slipping inside. The door bolted and screams came from the inside. Buy me time, you fools, Harris snarled as he turned and fled out onto the bridge. I must get word to the archbishop, the Lich is here!

Harris did not look back. The screams were cut off in moments and the sound of thundering hooves could be heard.

You can stop running now, a voice said, and the sound of feet landed on the bridge behind him. He looked to see the dreaded Lich staring back at him with eyes burning with horrific power.

You vile creature, Harris hissed, noticing that the other terrible monsters that had accompanied the Lich remained behind. This was his chance, the enemy that had been causing so many problems was by himself. Harris would smite him, and his army would come unraveled.

I thought about letting you go, the Lich said. But then Raven told me you were the prick shed witnessed cut off a boys hand because it had some kind of disease. You and I both know you could have healed it, yet you told him it was because he was un-pure. I decided Id rather spill your guts personally instead of watching you go.

Harris sneered at the Lich as he built a spell. A vile creature such as you would never understand.

Youre the vile creature. My name is Ezekiel, you are an affront to the good people of this land, and Im going to feed your corpse to those ravens so you can be turned into the bird shit that you are, the Lich named Ezekiel snarled.