Chapter Twenty-Nine — The Weight of the Crown

The wind shifted. Not a breeze. Not even a storm.

Something older, heavier — a ripple in the law of the land itself.

Liora felt it first, the water around her feet freezing solid, not from cold, but from the sheer presence pressing down on it. Her breath caught in her throat. Even the Manjuzu within her recoiled.

Ranga's hyena laugh died in his chest. The air smelled wrong — like burnt stone and old blood, like the moment before a kill, stretched out into a whole world.

"Movement," Dendera growled, already stepping forward.

Too late.

The sky tore open.

From nowhere, from everywhere, wings unfolded, black feathers edged in silver, slicing the air into ribbons. The Falcon Chidawo descended in silence, no wind to carry him — only the weight of ancient law bending to his will. Each step landed without a sound — a ghost with the power of a god.

Tafara was already moving, body low to the ground, his Baboon Totem aura crackling — wild, unpredictable, perfect chaos in motion. His hands slapped dirt and air alike, his body blurring with each unpredictable twist and spring.

But it didn't matter.

The moment the Falcon raised his hand, Tafara's next leap collapsed mid-air, his momentum reversing as though the sky itself had rules Tafara could no longer break. His body slammed into the ground, breath punched from his lungs. He rolled — but not with the control of a warrior — like a toy dropped by fate itself.

Dendera charged, earth churning under his feet, his shield anchoring him to the soil. Roots rose to defend him, but the second presence arrived without sound.

The Serpent Chidawo, her body half-glimpsed between the layers of earth and air, her skin patterned with shifting runes — symbols even Nyeredzi had never seen. The roots Dendera called bent toward her… and obeyed. They twisted around Dendera's shield-arm, pulling it down, the earth itself betraying him.

Ranga spun his spears, his Hyena Totem aura wild with desperation, trying to break the air itself to cause a distraction. But the Falcon's wings flexed, and the space around Ranga folded, his legs giving out beneath him. He didn't even see the blow — only felt the aftermath, his back slamming into the nearest tree.

Kael's roar split the air, the Elder Lion finally forcing its way out — golden mane flaring, claws like liquid sunlight. His roar was more than sound — it was command, Totem Law reaching into the bones of the land.

But the land didn't answer.

The Falcon cut the air with two fingers, and Kael's roar died in his throat, the Lion's light flickering, then vanishing. Kael fell to one knee, choking, his own spirit barely responding.

The Serpent's gaze slid to Nyeredzi.

Nyeredzi's silver eye burned, her cosmic sight reaching into the Veil — rewriting the unseen threads of fate itself.

The Serpent flicked her tail — a ripple through the ground — and those threads snapped, unraveling in Nyeredzi's vision. Her eye dimmed, her connection to the Veil severed in an instant. Her knees buckled.

A whispering voice, like rain through bones.

"This one's ready."

The Serpent's tail wrapped around Nyeredzi's ankle, hoisting her effortlessly into the air. Nyeredzi fought, reaching for the threads, but there were no threads left to grab.

Kael's fingers dug into the dirt. "No—!"

The Falcon's wings closed, cutting off Kael's plea. "She's the only piece that matters."

Liora's hands trembled, her Manjuzu skin shifting, spirals turning to glyphs older than Totem Law itself. Water leapt toward her call, surging upward into the form of a liquid serpent — the Manjuzu's ancient presence towering above the trees.

The Serpent Chidawo glanced at the water spirit. One lazy, forked tongue flicked from her mouth. A whisper.

The water collapsed into mist, the Manjuzu dissolving into scattered droplets before it could fully form. Even the Manjuzu — the spirit older than totems — bowed beneath the Serpent's authority.

Liora staggered back, hands shaking.

Tafara fought to rise, his shoulders heaving, baboon laughter bubbling low in his throat — fear mixed with defiance. Even broken, he was never still.

The Serpent dragged Nyeredzi closer, her rune-marked fingers brushing against Nyeredzi's face.

"Without the Seer, the Circle falls apart."

Kael tried to stand — but the air held him down.

"You want her back?" the Falcon said, no emotion, no threat — just fact.

"Survive."

And then they were gone.

The land sighed with relief in their absence. The air warmed. The earth uncurled.

The Bloodbound were left broken — Liora's hands still dripping water that no longer answered her call, Dendera's shield half-sunk in the earth, Ranga coughing blood, Tafara staggering to his feet, laughing softly even though his ribs screamed.

Kael knelt alone.

No lion. No roar.

Only the weight of a crown no one had taught him to wear.

The Bloodbound had survived many things.

But they had never fought gods who wore mortal skin.

And now — they were missing their eyes.

Nyeredzi was gone.

And without her, the future was blind.