They made camp that night in a abandoned village that had been hastily evacuated by its Radiant occupants. The buildings were intact but empty, stripped of anything valuable or useful. It was shelter from the rain, at least, which meant the troops could dry their equipment and rest without drowning in mud.
Liam stood in what had once been the village's temple—a small stone building with faded murals depicting the Radiant Emperor receiving divine mandate.
Someone had tried to deface the murals before fleeing, but they'd only managed to scratch out a few faces before giving up.
"Appropriate symbolism," Koth said, entering the temple with a dispatch scroll. "The old gods running from the new."
"I'm a commander first, before a god," Liam said automatically.
Koth's scarred face split in something that might have been a smile. "Tell that to the Nameless Litany. Or the Fourth Order. Or every soldier in this army who watched you kill that battle-priest with your bare hands."
