William followed close behind his guide until they reached the cave entrance.
Fresh earth and rocks spread out beneath their feet in a fan, stretching all the way to the foot of the mountain. The stonework around the entrance and the path had vanished, replaced by a crumbling slope. The soil had first been compressed into a texture denser and firmer than any road, then collapsed under an immense weight and slid down the mountainside.
Earth and stone poured downhill. Small streams of sand still trickled between the rocks, forming ocher-colored cascades. Tiny mineral grains refracted the frost-white light of the Celestial Body, glittering with a hard, crystalline beauty.
Kraft stepped into the moonlight, bathed in its clear white glow. Dust settled around him as if clouds were carrying him up a staircase paved with crystals.
His golden hair gleamed silver, and traces of his battle with the abominations still marked his sword. He seemed like a being from beyond the mortal world, come down to fulfill a promise and open a path from hell to the human realm for the faithful.
Perhaps it was just his imagination, but through his dizziness, William sensed an unfamiliar quality flash across the figure before him. For that moment, the familiar Kraft became someone else, imbued with an indescribable strangeness.
He had no wings, but if someone who knew nothing of him were left to imagine, they might well have taken him for an Angel—or something even higher, contained within a human shell.
The strange, unsettling feeling passed in an instant. But Kraft didn't float into the air or grow a halo. With a groan, he collapsed like a marionette whose strings had been cut, all strength drained from him.
The captain caught his shoulder in time, propped one of Kraft's arms over