Page 167 of Of Sins and Sacrifice

If we are to continue our journey through Aperite towns and villages, we’ll surely attract unwanted attention with our distinct clothing. Instinctively, I reach into my pocket and grasp the pin. I was hesitant to use it again until we reached the Capital, but it seems like we may need new disguises sooner than expected.

As I turn to Mine, I suggest we stop by a nearby clothing shop. But his gaze is distant, concerned, and my words die on my lips as a loud commotion erupts just a short distance away from us.

A crowd of people has gathered in front of a shop, their voices rising in panic and distress. Some are screaming for help.

My heart races with fear as I whisper to Mine, urging him to keep moving. “We can’t afford to get involved.”

But his jaw tightens, his expression determined. He pulls me forward but stops abruptly as we pass through the thickening crowd. More voices echo from within the circle of people, some wailing in pain.

“Mine, we need to go,” I plead urgently.

“Someone is injured,” he mentions, his sharp gaze scanning the tumultuous scene before us.

“We can’t risk getting noticed,” I protest.

But he shakes off my grip and pushes through the throng of people. My heart sinks as I follow reluctantly behind him, praying we won’t be caught up in whatever chaos has unfolded before us.

As I race after him, my heart pounds in my chest and my breath comes out in ragged gasps. He elbows his way through the throng of people with a sense of urgency that makes me quicken my pace.

“Mine, wait!” I call out to him, desperate to catch up, but just as I reach his side, he pulls me close. His grip is strong and his eyes are wild with fear and anger.

“What the hell is that?” he asks in a rough voice, gesturing toward the center of the conflict.

I turn my attention to the chaos ahead. Three people lie on the ground, their cries of pain piercing through the air. Blood has stained the pavement, creating a gruesome mosaic of red and brown.

One victim clutches at a large slice around his arm, blood gushing out between his fingers. Another male writhes in agony from a stab wound in his abdomen. And then there’s the woman,her face bloody and bruised, her once-beautiful dress now marred with red spots.

But what catches my eye is the figure swaying back and forth next to them. It’s a fourth man, seemingly unharmed but with a crazed look in his features. And as my eyes scan down to see the light blue powder stains on the inside of his elbow, I realize what the problem is.

He’s onzantrax. And he’s on a drug-fueled rampage.

My heart races as I grab Mine’s arm and beg him to leave. “We need to leave. Now,” I add, my voice tight with urgency. But he doesn’t budge, his eyes still fixed on the woman cowering from the mad man.

She begs for help from the bystanders, but they all back away in fear. Someone mentions calling the militia, but no one dares to intervene and stop the wild-eyed man. He takes a wobbly step toward the bleeding woman, and suddenly a burst of energy explodes from him.

“He’s a deity?”

I shake my head. “He’s on a black market drug made from the energy of a god,” I explain. “It gives the user temporary powers, but it’s highly addictive and dangerous. And now that it’s wearing off, he’ll be searching for more.”

“Zantrax? That’s still a thing?” Mine asks incredulously.

I nod grimly. “The military has been trying to crack down on it, but every time they think they’ve found the source, more sellers appear. And there have been reports of minor deities disappearing, all linked to the production of this drug.”

Before we can continue our conversation, another blood-curdling scream pierces the air. The crowd begins to back away as the man unleashes another burst of uncontrollable energy. He lets out a loud bellow and an invisible force pushes us back.

Mine quickly shields me with his body.”

We need to leave now,” I say urgently. “The militia will come soon and we can’t be caught here.”

Too late for that, though, as the thudding steps of the soldiers part the sea of people to get to the assailant.

There are only three soldiers, and by the look of their uniform, beige with black stripes, they are from a lower division comprised of minor deities. But that also means they have low to no abilities, which might prove difficult in handling azantraxcase.

The man turns his attention to the three soldiers, and as he opens his mouth, a burst of energy flies toward them, injuring one and momentarily confusing the other two. With that distraction in place, the man looks for a way out. People are running right and left, seeking shelter, and the commotion jostles us around.

As the man scans the crowd for an exit, his eyes register our presence.

Oh, no!

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