The scythe finished forming, and the car park changed.
The broken level was burning in patches, cars on fire down the rows, dust still falling from the cracked ceiling in slow grey sheets. The stream hung in the corner of James's vision, still live, still climbing.
Across from him, Langford stood in his white-gold armor with the Cathedral Field glowing out around his feet.
But the light did not reach James anymore.
It bent. It curved away from the black blade and the frost crawling up James's wrist, leaving a cold dark circle around him where the holy ground could not hold.
James was still bleeding. His body still ached from the holy pressure. The Dark Knight was down on one knee and the wolf was dragging itself on its front legs.
[AUTHORITY RELEASE: 29:41]
The clock was running. The only question left was whether Langford could kill him before it turned.
Langford did not give him the time to settle.
[PALADIN ART: KING'S STEP]
