Page 1672 -- CLXXX.

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‘Voreese. I don’t know if I can actually do that.’

‘What? Sure you can.’

‘No. I’ve never tried to destroy my own brain before.’

‘Well, why not? What’re you, some kinda pussy?’

‘Voreese.’

‘Look. Just. Figure it out. You’re strong. I’ve got faith in you, Roman.’

‘Liar.’ Leo was on the move again, down a street that curved toward the middle of the city where taller buildings awaited. ‘And my ability doesn’t lend itself well to that sort of thing. I’m sure I could tear my head off with a strong enough concussive blast, but actually destroying it in a single go? I really don’t think I can manage that, Voreese. Especially not without practice.’

‘Ugh. Fine. Well. We’ll cross that bridge if and when we come to it, alright? Hopefully, you’ll just be able to slip away normally, once the rest of us are clear.’

There was virtually no way that was going to happen, Roman felt. Even if Leo was being rather inattentive at the moment, the man had very much NOT been that way during the rest of their time together.

But even so, Roman didn’t see many other options. ‘Alright, fine... What kind of stuff should I tell him? Anything I can say that’s not just a straight up lie?’

‘Lemme ask for some specifics real quick.’ There was a pause. ‘Well, um, apparently, he brought down the Salesman of Death.’

‘That’s hilarious, but I’m being serious here, Voreese.’

‘...Hmm. So am I.’

Roman stopped walking to blink a couple times.

‘Oh, he HELPED bring down the Salesman of Death. Ah, and I guess Garovel would prefer you not mention that one, unless you absolutely have to. Shit, this Manuel guy sure likes to talk. What is he, president of the Hector fan club or something?’

Roman was beyond confused. ‘What the--? Who’s Manuel?’

‘Ah--whatever. Not important. Gimme a sec.’

And he wanted to protest with a variety of different questions, but he acquiesced. He started walking again, having nearly lost track of Leo.

‘Okay, so Hector killed a worm, I guess.’

‘So have I. I’m not sure that’ll impress--’

‘No, this one was the size of a house, apparently. And it shot lightning. Oh, no, it was bigger than just a normal house? More like an office building. Oh, and they met some gods, too.’

‘...Okay, what the fuck are you talking about?’

‘That’s a good question. I’m relaying it now.’


Chapter One Hundred Eighty: ‘Old cruelty...’
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...171 years ago...


She didn’t get the burial she deserved, but it was the best that Parson could manage after hours and hours of digging with only his bare hands. Even if he’d had a shovel, it probably wouldn’t have helped much. The ground here was rocky and unforgiving.

By the time he was done, his hands were numb and bloody, and his stomach was so empty that he couldn’t vomit anymore, despite his body still trying to.