Nathan stayed on one knee beside the body for a long time.
The symbol on the breastplate was no bigger than his thumb. A tall, narrow tower, with a single line cut through the middle of it. He had seen it on the oldest Tower doors back home. He had seen it on the walls of the Origin. He had never expected to see it here, on a world that had never had a single Tower.
He brushed more dirt off the armor. There was nothing else. No name. No crest. Just the one mark, carved small, in the place where a heart would be.
[Hunter's Insight]
The thread was still there. It came out of the Demon King's chest, thin and grey, and ran south across the plain. It didn't go toward the palace. It didn't go toward the mountains in the east, where the Demon King's castle was supposed to be. It went straight south, over the hills, until Nathan couldn't follow it anymore.
The body under his hand was cold. The thread was not. It pulsed, slow and even, about once every ten seconds.
