The sky split with prayer.
A thousand voices chanted in perfect rhythm as the Faith Armies advanced into the valleys. Light rolled over the hills like a tide, washing stone and bone in gold.
Akari raised her spear.
"Hold until they cross the markers."
Her soldiers waited in silence.
When the first priest stepped onto the black-glass ground of the scar, The land screamed.
Not with sound.
With pressure.
The symbols beneath the surface ignited, crawling outward like veins of night. The priest's light flickered, then shattered into sparks.
Panic rippled through the front line.
"They're losing blessing!" someone shouted.
Hiroto stood at the center of the scar, shadow anchored into the ground like roots.
"Now," Akari commanded.
Ballistae fired from the ridges. Heavy bolts slammed into the golden ranks, ripping holes through glowing shields. Smoke and prayer mixed into choking clouds.
Angels of scripture descended.
Goro leapt into the air with a roar, smashing into one with his armored fist. The construct shattered into fragments of holy text that burned out before hitting the ground.
Yui moved with the medics, pulling wounded soldiers back from the front. Her hands shook but she did not stop.
"Keep moving!" she shouted. "You're not done yet!"
Hiroto felt it.
A pull.
The scar wanted more.
More will.
More refusal.
A winged angel dove toward him, spear of light raised.
Hiroto lifted his hand.
The shadow did not surge.
It cut.
A thin line of darkness split the angel in half. The two pieces dissolved into ash before touching the ground.
Akari's eyes widened. "…He's shaping it."
Another wave came.
Priests formed a circle and raised their staffs.
"By the will of heaven, cleanse!"
A beam of light tore through the scar, blasting Hiroto off his feet.
Yui screamed.
Hiroto crashed into the black stone, breath knocked from his lungs. The shadow writhed violently, trying to rise on its own.
"…No," he whispered.
"Not like that."
He forced himself up.
Blood ran from his mouth.
"Not rage," he said.
"Not fear."
He pressed his palm to the ground.
"Choice."
The scar answered.
Dark lines surged outward, weaving into the light beam and breaking it apart like glass under water.
The priests stumbled back.
"This land… is rejecting us!"
Akari rode through the smoke, spear flashing.
"Press them! They can't stabilize their miracles!"
Her forces surged forward.
The Faith Armies faltered for the first time since the war began.
Far above, thunder rolled through clear sky.
A voice echoed, layered with many tones:
"You stand on cursed ground, shadow-bearer."
Hiroto looked up.
"…Then come down and cleanse it yourself."
The clouds parted.
Something vast moved behind them.
Not a vessel.
Not an army.
A presence.
The Watcher's cracked face tightened.
"…A lower god," he whispered.
"They've sent a judge."
Light poured from the sky, forming a towering figure of wings and burning script.
Its eyes opened.
The battlefield froze.
Akari lowered her spear slightly.
"…So heaven finally shows its face."
Hiroto stepped forward into the light and shadow.
"Good," he said quietly.
"I was tired of fighting messengers."
The god raised its hand.
And the scar trembled.
The War of Faith had reached its first true judgment.
To be continued…