He turned back toward the field, where the wind was rising and the banners had begun to flutter.
The Trial of the Reach was about to begin.
And Ian was ready to see who bled first.
–——
The wind howled across the expanse, whispering of blood— of ruin.
The trial wasn't far from starting.
Everyone knew the gist—the ground will open, descend into the maw and find the relics. Withing the Maw there are no rules but to survive.
Well, there is one—you may not kill a human until twenty minutes after the trial begins.
Ian stood near the edge of the descent ridge, where loose stone gave way to a black pit that exhaled cold, repulsive air.
Around him, figures gathered—factions, House Subjugators, church zealots.
There were hundreds of them now, armored and armed, faces twisted with greed and holy purpose.
Most didn't look at the labyrinth below.
Most looked at him.
He didn't need to guess why.
