For three days and three nights, supplies and soldiers came through the one-way portal, a steady stream of men and materials pouring into the makeshift camp, expanding its size and its strength.
Now a grand army of thirty thousand men, a mix of professional soldiers and zealot priests, was assembled, a force to be reckoned with. Their tents stretched for miles, their banners flapping in the wind, their armor gleaming in the sunlight.
The camp was a fortress, with wooden walls, watchtowers, and a deep moat filled with sharpened stakes. The Gray Knights were reduced to mere workers under the command of the Holy Paladin Grandmaster.
The leader of this grand army, the man who held the fate of thousands in his hands, was a figure of both awe and terror.
He sat in his command tent, a grand, spacious tent made of thick, red canvas, with a large, polished oak table in the center. On the table was a detailed map of the region, with small, carved figures representing the various units.
He was an old man with a long, white beard and piercing golden eyes that seemed to look right through you. He wore a set of ornate, golden armor, with a large, white cloak draped over his shoulders. A symbol of Uriel, a stylized sunburst and angelic wings, was emblazoned on his chestplate.
His name was Gideon.
The Holy Paladin Grandmaster.
And he was not happy.
"Tell me again, Leonardo," Gideon said, his voice cold and hard, his golden eyes fixed on the younger paladin. "Explain to me what happened in the swamp. And this time, I want the truth. The whole truth."
Leonardo stood before him, his gray armor still stained with mud and blood. He looked tired, haunted. The last few days had been a blur of activity, of organizing the camp, of tending to the wounded, of trying to make sense of the nightmare he had survived.
But the memory of the prayer, of the 'Tempest Spear', of the voice in his head, was still fresh, a constant, nagging presence in the back of his mind.
"My lord," Leonardo began, his voice steady despite the turmoil in his soul. "We were ambushed. We fought bravely, but we were outnumbered and outmatched. The poison, the monsters... it was a miracle we survived."
"A miracle?" Gideon leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. "Is that what you call it? A prayer I've never heard, a power I've never seen, a display that felt... wrong. That felt tainted. Don't you dare lie to me, boy. I've been serving Uriel since before you were born. I know her grace. And that... that was not it."
Leonardo's blood ran cold. He knew this was coming. He had rehearsed this conversation in his head a hundred times, but now that the moment was here, the words caught in his throat.
Gideon was Leonardo's former mentor. The man who had trained him, who had guided him, who had shaped him into the paladin he was today. He was a legend, a living symbol of the church's power and unwavering faith.
And he was a zealot. A man who saw the world in black and white, with no room for doubt or nuance.
"I... I don't know what happened, my lord," Leonardo said, choosing his words carefully. "We were desperate. We were about to be overrun. I prayed. I prayed with all my heart, with all my soul. And... she answered. Uriel answered."
He was lying. He knew it. And he suspected Gideon knew it too.
But what other choice did he have? Tell the truth? Tell the Grandmaster that he had made a deal with an unknown, mysterious entity? That he had channeled a power that felt both divine and demonic? That he had sold a kiss for the lives of his men?
He would be branded a heretic. A witch. He would be executed on the spot.
The only reason that Leonardo was still standing was that 'Tempest Spear' didn't feel like a corrupt magic but a holy one. Just... a different one.
While it's strange to see this kind of holy magic from the Goddess of Light, it's not impossible. So everyone assumed it was just a new, powerful prayer that the goddess had taught to her most devoted son.
So he decided to stick to that story.
Gideon stared at him for a long, tense moment, his golden eyes searching Leonardo's face for any sign of deception.
"A new prayer, you say?" he said, his voice dripping with skepticism. "A new form of divine power that she decided to share with you, a fallen paladin, in the middle of a forgotten swamp, while her most devout followers have been praying for centuries for a sign, any sign, and received nothing?"
"I... I can't explain it, my lord," Leonardo said, meeting the Grandmaster's gaze, trying to project an aura of unwavering faith, even though his soul was in turmoil. "Perhaps it was a test. A test of my faith. And I passed. Uriel saw my devotion, and she rewarded me."
Gideon leaned back in his chair, a thoughtful, yet dangerous, expression on his face. He was not convinced. But he also couldn't prove otherwise. The power was real. The results were undeniable. The army was saved. And to question a miracle, even a strange one, was to question the goddess herself.
"A test..." Gideon repeated, stroking his long, white beard. "A test for you, perhaps. But what about us? What about the men who died? Were they part of the test too? Were their sacrifices necessary to prove your faith?"
Leonardo's jaw tightened. The Grandmaster's words were like daggers, twisting in his gut. He had asked himself the same question a thousand times.
Why had the Goddess of Light, Uriel, stopped answering prayers for centuries? Why was she so silent? Why didn't she help them when they needed her the most?
It just doesn't make any sense.
But no one dared to ask. No one dared to question. They just... followed. Blindly. Faithfully.
"Anyway," Gideon said, waving a dismissive hand, changing the subject. "The portal is ready. The main army has arrived. The crusade can finally begin."
He rose from his chair and walked over to the map, his golden armor gleaming in the candlelight.
"Our target is the Lost Lands of the Gods," he said, his finger tapping on a location on the map. "According to our intelligence, that's where the new goddess has established her domain."
Leonardo's heart skipped a beat. He knew who he was talking about. The mysterious entity that had helped him in the swamp. The one who had demanded a kiss.
He had a feeling that this crusade would not end well.
"The Lost Lands are a dangerous place, my lord," Leonardo said, his voice cautious.
"The army will march south," Gideon continued, his voice filled with a cold, hard certainty. "We will establish a base here."
He pointed to a location on the map, a location that would take a week-long march from their current position.
"And from there, we will launch our assault on the goddess's domain. We will cleanse this land of her unholy influence, and we will bring the light of Uriel back to this world."
The Holy Paladin Grandmaster Gideon was a cautious man, a military genius, and a devout follower of Uriel. He would never blindly march his army into the unknown without proper preparation.
His plan was to establish two or three bases along the way, each one fortified and supplied through the portal. This would allow him to advance his army slowly but surely, ensuring that his supply lines were secure and that his army was always ready for a fight.
"Leonardo," Gideon said, turning to face him. "Your Gray Knights will be responsible for these bases. You will be the one to build them, to defend them, and to ensure that our supply lines are not disrupted. This is a crucial task, and I am entrusting it to you. Do not fail me."
"I understand, my lord," Leonardo said, bowing his head.
He was being sidelined. Pushed aside. The Grandmaster had to do it or risk his holy paladins being seen as less faithful than the heretics he was supposed to be fighting.
In their eyes, the Gray Knights were the sinners and the holy paladins were the faithful, the chosen ones. They would never tolerate seeing the Gray Knights leading the charge or being in the spotlight of the battle.
Even Gideon would never give Leonardo a rank in his army as long as he wore the gray armor.
"I will not fail you," Leonardo said, his voice firm.
"See that you don't," Gideon said, a cold glint in his golden eyes. "Because if you do... You will regret it. The goddess does not tolerate failure. And neither do I."
The threat was clear. Leonardo was on a very short leash. He was being watched. Every move he made, every decision he took, would be scrutinized. And if he made even the slightest mistake, the inquisitors would be on him.
"I will not fail," Leonardo repeated, his jaw tightening.
"Good," Gideon said, a small, satisfied smile on his face. "You are dismissed."
Leonardo bowed his head and turned to leave the command tent. As he walked out, he felt a pair of eyes on him, a cold, piercing gaze that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.
He turned and saw the same three-eyed raven that had been following them for days, perched on a nearby tent, watching him with an unnerving intelligence.
Leonardo could swear he saw, for a fleeting moment, a woman's face superimposed over the raven. A woman with long, silver hair and red eyes that glowed with a dark, dangerous light.
"May the light of Uriel protect me from this evil."