The kitchen felt colder after Lokey spoke. His voice had been steady, but the weight of his worry hung in the air like iron chains.

  Hela didn’t hesitate. She moved to her brother’s side, placing a hand gently on his arm, her dark eyes soft with understanding. She didn’t need him to say more—she could see the strain in his jaw, the way his hands tightened into fists, the worry and pain in his eyes. She had always known, even before he admitted it to himself, how much Asra had come to mean to him.

  “Lokey…” she whispered, her tone caring. “We’ll bring her back.”

  Artemis, who had been unbuckling the last of his armor, froze where he stood. His head snapped up, sharp blue eyes narrowing as though someone had threatened him. He crossed the room and leaned on the table, gaze locked on his older brother.

  “So, who's going to die?” His voice was low, dangerous. “And what’s the plan?”

  There was no hesitation in him, no doubt. Artemis didn’t care about politics, priests, or barons—only that his brother was hurting, and that someone had dared to threaten someone he cared about.

  Lokey drew in a slow breath, steadying himself. He looked around the table—at Hela’s quiet strength, at Artemis’s fierce loyalty, and at Brother Toby, who sat in silence, hands folded tightly in his lap, his face pale.

  Toby said nothing, but his eyes—wide, searching—never left Lokey. He was listening, hanging on every word, his heart concerned for the friends who had shown him so much.

  Lokey finally spoke. His voice was calm, but every word carried the weight of a hammer blow.

  “It was the head priest. The baron recognized his handwriting on the ransom note. He means to deliver Asra to the Eastern Kingdom like a slave, to force the baron into surrendering his lands. It’s not just about her—it’s about power, about breaking this town’s spine before the armies from the east get here.”

  Artemis slammed his fist into the table, rattling mugs and plates. “That bastard. Just say the word, Lokey—I’ll burn their whole order to ash if I have to.”

  “Not yet,” Lokey said firmly, holding up a hand. “We can’t storm in blind. If we do, she’s as good as lost. We need to know where she is, how many are guarding her, and what the priest’s endgame really is. Charging headfirst is exactly what he’ll expect.”

  Hela nodded, her hand still on his arm. “Then we’ll be smarter than him. We’ll find her, we’ll outthink him… and then we’ll take her back.”

  For a long moment, no one spoke. The fire in the hearth crackled, the weight of their task pressing down on them all. But beneath it was something else—a unity, a shared determination that no priest, no kingdom, no scheme could break.

  Asra was one of theirs now. And nothing in this world would stop them from saving her.

  Brother Toby’s hands trembled in his lap as he looked at the three before him. Hela’s calm resolve, Artemis’s fiery determination, Lokey’s unshakable strength—all of them ready, without hesitation, to lay down their lives for someone they cared about.

  It was such a rare thing in this world.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  Family. Loyalty. Love that was stronger than fear.

  And the bitter truth weighed on him: the man who should have stood for compassion and truth, the high priest himself, was the very one sowing corruption and bloodshed. Cloaking greed in holy robes, twisting the faith for power—an “unholy holy man.”

  Toby swallowed hard. The conflict inside him snapped like a breaking chain. He could not stand idle. Not anymore.

  Slowly, he lifted his head. His voice was quiet at first, but it carried with steady conviction.

  “I’ll help you.”

  Three sets of eyes turned toward him.

  “If she hasn’t been moved or delivered yet,” Toby continued, stronger now, “then she’s still in the church. The dungeons below—most don’t know of them, but I do. They have cells there, old ones, used long ago for heretics and prisoners. If Asra is anywhere, she’ll be there.”

  Lokey studied him for a long moment, weighing the words. Toby didn’t flinch.

  “Are you sure?” Lokey asked. “Helping us means turning your back on the church. On everything you were raised in.”

  Toby’s jaw tightened. “Then it deserves to be turned against. I thought faith was meant to guide people to light. Not… this.” His hand clenched into a fist. “If standing with you means casting down a corrupt man who calls himself holy, then so be it. My place is with you—but you should know that man is a lustful piece of filth. There are rumors of him forcing himself on younger women. I never got proof to bring it to light, but she is in more danger of falling to his lust the longer she is with him.”

  Despite Toby’s revelation, a spark of hope lit in Lokey’s chest. He reached across the table and gripped Toby’s shoulder firmly.

  “Then we’ll save her. Together.”

  “Boy,” the old smith called as he tossed an amulet to him. “You need to put runes on that thing like we talked about. I know it’s rushed teaching, but she can use the protection—especially if you’re going to be fighting soon.”

  Artemis grinned wolfishly, already itching for action. Hela gave a small nod, her hand still steady on her brother’s arm, though her dark eyes shone with the weight of what was to come.

  The choice had been made.

  The path was set.

  And in the shadows beneath the holy halls, a reckoning waited.

  Far below the gilded spires of the church, the air was damp and heavy with mold. A single torch guttered in the wall, casting long shadows across the narrow stone corridor.

  In one of the cells, Asra sat slumped, chained in the middle. Her lip was split, her cheek bruised, but her eyes burned with a fire that even pain could not dim. Chains clinked as she shifted, lifting her head when footsteps echoed.

  The head priest emerged from the darkness, his robes immaculate despite the filth of the dungeon. His smile was the kind that made skin crawl—cold, serpentine.

  “My dear,” he said softly, voice dripping with mockery as he ran a hand along her body. “So much spirit in you still. But don’t worry… I will make sure to break it and to show you what it feels like to be a woman before I hand you over to that sick lizard king to the east.”

  He crouched, leaning close so that she could see the gleam in his eyes.

  “He will use you to break your father, to take his lands—and when he’s finished, he’ll kill you in front of him. Just because he can, there’s no reason I can’t enjoy your beauty until then.”

  Asra’s jaw tightened, her glare cutting sharper than any blade. She spat blood at his feet, but there was fear in her eyes.

  “You’ll regret this,” she hissed.

  The priest only chuckled, turning away. His shadow stretched long as he walked to the side of the cell, removing his robes and hanging them on a hook, then turning back to her.

  Outside the towering walls of the church, night had fallen. The city was hushed, save for the faint toll of a distant bell.

  In the shadows of an alley, Brother Toby handed out plain, hooded priest robes, his face pale but resolute.

  “Keep your heads down,” he instructed in a hushed voice. “Say nothing and just follow me.”

  Lokey pulled the robe over his shoulders, his eyes fixed on the looming cathedral. Hela’s jaw was set, her hand brushing the amulet she carried—a gift from her older brother, his first rune-crafted item. It was a simple shield rune, but when they had tested it, neither brother could break through its spell. The old man had delighted in saying his student was going to be a master among masters.

  Artemis smirked faintly, rolling his shoulders as if eager for the fight to come. His eagerness was more a false cover to hide how concerned he was for Asra and the danger they might face.

  Together, cloaked in false holiness, they prepared to step into the lion’s den.