Shadow Slave novel Chapter 2067

Far to the south, the winds howled in the deep canyons that broke the surface of a sloping plain. Here on the femur of the dead deity, the ancient bone was covered in cracks, as if something had shattered it countless years ago.

However, there were no scarlet vines protruding from the cracks, and no jungle covering the slopes of the titanic femur. The entire place was dead and silent, bathed in the scorching radiance of the cloudy sky.

The femur stretched all the way down to the surface of the Sea of Ash, where even the Lord of Shadows did not dare step foot. It was unclear whether the tibia and fibula of the dead god were missing or simply buried in ash — no human had ever made it to the ground before, and no one was mad enough to try and find out the truth.

Currently, a battered troop of warriors was making its way across the desolate expanse of white bone, suffering in the unbearable heat. There were three Saints among them, commanding a force comprised of Ascended Knights — those who were still alive, of course. Many had perished on the way.

Sir Gilead, the Summer Knight, was walking at the head of the column. His lustrous armor was covered in dust and had lost its sheen, and his usually clean-shaven face was now covered by a short beard. His skin had turned darker with tan, and his fiercely blue eyes were squinting against the merciless radiance of the grey sky.

Raising a hand, he wiped the sweat off his brow and lingered for a moment, listening to the howling wind.

His expression darkened.

The wind had grown stronger, bringing with it a refreshing coolness. The tired knights seemed invigorated by its touch, their movements becoming livelier.

However, the Saints looked at each other somberly.

One of them — a man wearing a suit of heavy armor and a closed helmet despite the terrible heat — spoke in a hoarse voice:

"The wind is rising."

The other, a woman carrying an ornate parasol, pulled up the scarf to cover her face and sighed heavily.

Gilead lingered for a few moments, then nodded.

"It is."

He took a few more steps, then stopped and looked at the distant sky. After considering something for a few moments, Gilead continued walking.

"We will try to get to the nearest fissure in time. We might get lucky…"

By then, the knights had noticed that the wind was growing stronger, as well. Their faces paled, and a hint of subdued terror appeared in their eyes.

"Move! There is no time waste!" _{ƒгeewёbnovel.com}

After giving the command, Gilead switched from measured steps to a jog and led the conquest expedition south. The rest of them followed.

The men in the heavy armor fell backto guard the rear of the troop, while the woman carrying a parasol caught up with him.

As the wind pushed them forward with ferocious force, she said quietly:

"How many of us do you think will make it to the Citadel, Sir Gilead?"

Gilead glanced at her briefly, but did not respond.

The woman laughed bitterly.

"Is that supposed to mean that you don't know? Or that none of us will?"

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