Spiritbound [Spirit Magic, Military, Progression] (Book 1 Complete)

Once Tucker was out of sight, Mary slowly exhaled. Her warm eyes fell on the deceased soldiers with a somber gaze. Was the cost of life so little in the eyes of mortals? How could the Empire cause such bloodshed, and why did the Souldom choose to remain neutral? Was spreading faith far more important than preserving the lives on this plane?

She sat there in prayer, hoping that her God would give her an answer, but no matter how much time passed, only silence followed. A sinking feeling filled her chest, tightening around her heart. Yet Mary couldn't let the sensation cloud her judgment.

Behind her stood a figure wearing the same white robes with golden embroideries along the seams. His long blonde hair was tied neatly back and his green eyes shined brightly beneath the divine light.

"Priest Daryl, has there been any news about the demons in the Empire?" Mary asked, without batting an eye.

The middle-aged man shook his head. "We tracked the traces within Everfall City and couldn't find any leads besides the ancient teleportation device."

"And the dwarves?" Mary asked.

"Stubborn as always. They sealed their holds and refused to elaborate." Daryl shook his head, forcing a worried smile. "It seems we won't get closer to uncovering the truth until far later. Even the other bishops working in secret haven't discovered anything."

"The entire situation is a mess. We have clergy from the Empire vouching for their side, and the same with the Kingdom." Mary tightly clenched onto the fabrics of her robe. "Even those who say they're neutral are slowly aligning themselves with one or the other."

"Can't the same be said about you, Bishop Mary?" Daryl jokingly asked.

"No!" Mary protested. "That was a personal matter, completely different and not of a political stance."

"You know, a personal matter sounds a lot worse than a political one," he pointed out. "Those of the Souldom would be upset if they heard this."

Mary ignored the middle-aged man who continued to spout nonsense. An annoyed look surfaced on her face, but for a moment, she pictured a life with Tucker, shaking her head in embarrassment. It was a bad habit of hers. One, she wished that was gone, but it was normal for everyone to dream such a thing occasionally… right?

.

.

.

"So… that priest—"

"Bishop," Tucker corrected.

Jones narrowed his eyes. "Right… I take it you two are a thing?"

Tucker scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Very funny, Jones, but now isn't the time for jokes. We have work to do."

"What? Am I wrong?" Jones followed Tucker down the stone corridors. "You two look good together."

"We're professionals, Jones, this is just work."

"I don't think most people who are professionals would give someone a ring…" Jones pointed out.

Tucker ignored the piercing gaze coming from his subordinate. "It's just a ring. There's no deep meaning behind it."

"Uh huh…" Jones stared at the ring on Tucker's left hand with a wide smirk. "Well, if you say so. At least you didn't make any promises or something." He left the conversation there and walked with Tucker beneath the stone arches. "What's the plan now, cap?"

"The plan?" Tucker thought about it for a moment. He wanted to beat the shit out of the advisor who sabotaged them, but the odds of him getting such a chance probably weren't likely. Yet as he thought this, two unlikely figures caught his attention.

Down the corridor were Luka and Ray, both leaning on opposite sides of the hall. One to the left and another to the right. His friend grinned before waving at him. He moved closer before jerking his thumb at Ray.

"Guess who decided to stay," said Luka.

"I didn't decide to stay, I just decided to leave later," Ray retorted.

"Right… right…" Luka brushed the flustered Ray aside. "He's a horrible liar."

"You're such an asshole," Ray muttered with a sigh. He stared at Tucker and slowly regretted his decision after seeing his captain smirk. "Don't get the wrong idea. I didn't come back for you. I came back for the militiamen."

"It's practically the same thing." Tucker walked past them as the other two followed behind. Right as Jones passed by Ray, he patted the grumbling watchman's shoulders. Deeply moved by his instructor's actions.

"Alright, that's enough fooling around." Luka cleared his throat before continuing. "It seems like the fate of the advisors has been decided."

Stolen story; please report.

"What did the commander suggest?" Tucker asked.

"They're going to be executed." Ray held out his thumb and slowly dragged it across his throat. "The three that orchestrated that shit show at the fourth bastion will probably be dead by noon."

Tucker stood motionless, his footsteps fading down the stone halls that had yet to settle from the dust-covered sky. A bitter dissatisfaction gnawed at his chest. For the advisors who led the deaths of countless knights and foot soldiers alike, to simply die felt like a wasted justice. They should have rotted in the Kingdom's deepest cells, not escape justice through death's mercy. But such a thing was out of his control.

"You know, the commander gave us—well, the captain's permission to see the prisoners," said Luka.

"He did?" Tucker glanced back at Luka, noting the slight tilt of his head. It didn't make sense for Carl to allow them to talk to the advisors. Not unless he believed they could convince them otherwise to change the sentence. But there was no way in hell Brian would forgive them, and as Tucker thought back to his fallen brothers in the church… he wouldn't either.

"We should pay them a visit," Jones suggested.

A heavy silence followed as the others turned to look at him.

"We have no reason to see them, and honestly, even if we did, I don't want to hear their excuses." Tucker's voice was cold, mixed with a hint of rage.

Jones shifted uncomfortably. He couldn't help but feel torn. A part of him needed to see the bastard who caused the death of his friends. To demand answers and give him a piece of his mind. Since that was the only way for him to get closure.

"Let's go visit them," Luka chimed in. "The other captains are heading there as well, so it wouldn't be a bad idea to get their stances as well."

Tucker ran his hand through his hazel hair. He didn't want to go because if he saw them, he wasn't sure what he'd do. But as he glanced at the faces around him, he could see it in their eyes: they needed this.

"Fine," he muttered. "But let me make myself clear. We're just going there to talk, not to kill them."

"Right, talk…" Ray chuckled while raising his fist.

But before anyone could add more, a sudden chill crept down the backs of the watchmen. All their heads turned sharply towards the fourth bastion. A massive sphere of obsidian had formed. One that was darker than the night itself, engulfing a part of the fortress like a living shadow.

"What the hell?" Ray muttered, his voice low with disbelief.

Even Tucker and Luka were caught off guard by it. That kind of presence drew the attention of all the veteran soldiers. Its appearance meant only one thing. A seven-star aura user had stepped onto the battlefield. The air grew thick, almost unbreathable. Even Jones understood the severity of the situation, but what could they do?

The bells frantically tolled in the distance. All across the courtyard, soldiers erupted into motion. Platoons scattered, and officers shouted throughout the compound. The fortress shifted into a crisis mode, but there was nothing they could do. All the soldiers of the Thirty-First platoon had depleted their aura in a battle like this.

They would only get slaughtered.

"Ray, have the men stand by and get their wounds treated," Tucker ordered.

"Leave it to me." Ray immediately nodded and rushed to the barracks where the Thirty-First was resting.

Jones stood there in shock. "Shouldn't we also participate in the battle?"

"No, the Commander told our platoons to rest, so that's what we'll do. The other platoons are already heading to battle. With how weak we are now, we'll only get in the way," Tucker muttered. "Besides, there's something else that's bothering me now."

Tucker glanced at Luka, who wore an uneasy expression. Both of them were on the same page. The timing of this attack, appearing just as the advisors were set to be executed, was far too convenient. It felt unreal, like they were puppets in some sort of sick play.

"We need to head to the prison," said Tucker.

All three of them swiftly moved through the halls of the castle. Past the magic lanterns that lit their path. Jones kept his hand on the hilt of his sword. Throughout their entire path, soldiers were rushing to the fourth bastion. But as they moved deeper into the depths of the castle, an eerie silence filled the corridors. Not a soul was in sight. No guards. No servants.

"What's going on?" Jones quietly asked.

"I don't know, but I don't like it," Luka replied.

They kept their hands on the hilt of their weapons, eyes fixed on the damp staircase leading to the depths of the prison. Tucker focused on his hearing as they descended down. A soft dripping echoed from below, in steady beats that hammered against stone. Then came a sharp, iron-like scent at his nostrils. As they reached the lower floors, three figures emerged from the darkness several meters ahead of them.

Two knights with armor that had lost its luster and a single man in a dirty white cloak with fading azure embroideries. Tucker focused on the individuals, blood that had long dried, coated parts of the knights' armor. Mana-sealing cuffs were clamped around the prisoner's wrists and at a glance, it was clear that he was being escorted.

Yet something didn't seem right.

They had travelled all this way, hardly seeing anyone and now, a prisoner was being escorted out? The timing didn't sit right.

"Where are you taking him?" Tucker asked.

The knights froze. A glance passed between them before one stiffly answered, "We've been ordered to escort this man out of the facilities by the Commander."

Tucker hid his expression. The knights within the Bastion had always been respectful to him and the other watchmen. Addressing them with their titles while following a set of conduct. "And who is this man?"

"Advisor Nox," the knight replied.

Tucker noticed Luka's subtle reaction, one that would have been impossible to notice from afar. A slight widening of the eyes, just enough for him to see. Tucker followed Luka's gaze to the prisoner. Beneath the shadow of his hood, through the strands of brown hair, was a pale face with sharp crimson eyes.

"If it's the Commander's orders, we should let them pass," said Luka calmly.

"What?!" Jones wanted to quickly protest but fell silent when Tucker raised his hand.

"We still have the other Advisors to deal with," Tucker spoke in a firm voice. "Let them go."

Jones clenched his jaw and gave a reluctant nod.

They stepped aside, hands easing off the hilt of their swords. The knights responded with a simple salute and began walking forward. Their metal boots scraping against the cold stone floors. The torches on the wall chaotically flickered in the breeze. But right as they were about to pass them—

A flash of silver rang out.

Tucker and Luka immediately drew their blades. The metal shimmered with a faint trace of aura as they aimed to take the lives of the two knights before them. But before their attacks could connect a burst of sparks flew out. The knights had shielded their bodies with aura as both of them were pushed back to back, snapping into a defensive position with Nox in the center.

The Advisor let out a faint, amused breath, his lips slowly curving into a sinister smile. "How... did you know?"