Step.

  Squealing sludge

  Step.

  Chain against metal.

  Step.

  The ground clung to the tattered remnants of Knight's boots. Light rain, mixed with soot and ash. The foul combination continued for miles in every direction, causing layers of topsoil to run down the hills as a thick muck. The rain brought struggle as each step threatened to drag the Knight under the surface, but also relief. Relief from blazing Daloheim and a coarse, burnt throat.

  Step.

  The burns came three days past, when a strong gale carried off layers of ash he had buried himself in, and the wrath of a dead god had brought a fever to the soot. In the span of a breath, his armor had become a shell he boiled in.

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  Step.

  Yet, he did not die, for he could not die.

  Step—

  Knight’s foot met no resistance, and his armored body lurched forward.

  Soon, his visor was full of coarse, wet earth, and he lost the strength to get up. Heavy eyes blinked into the grainy soil, and the falling rain wreathed him in tepid warmth

  He closed his eyes and slept.

  Skies of azure blue, so vast that they encompassed the entire world. Verdant hills and forest aplenty. Animals, some small and agile, others large and full of claws and teeth.

  Towns of wood and grain sprawled across valleys, while cities of chiseled stone brushed the clouds. A world where the living could exist in places other than where Godhood still clashed.

  Most of all, there was her.

  Verdant hair. Azure eyes. Clawed, with sharp teeth, skin of oak caked in stone. The dreams shifted, but there was always her.

  He woke, and it didn’t matter how much time had passed.

  The wrath of Daloheim had ebbed, giving way to the sister Nephelheim.

  Knight got to his feet, blinded by the dark.

  The heat of Dalo was fierce and painful, but Nephel held long, and her children could not abide their hunger.