746: Story 746: Silkbound Fate 746: Story 746: Silkbound Fate The paladin’s scream never left his lips.
It was swallowed by the abyss, his body pulled deeper into Selene’s web.
The silk coiled tighter, burrowing into his skin, pulsing with dark intent.
His heartbeat slowed, his mind clouded, drowning in the Pale Widow’s whispering embrace.
“You fight so bravely,” Selene purred, circling him.
Her golden eyes flickered with cruel amusent.
“But do you even know why?”
The paladin clenched his jaw.
He still had fight left.
He had to.
Light.
He needed light.
With a guttural cry, he summoned his last reserves of divine power.
A pulse of radiant energy burst from his chest, burning through the webbing.
The sacred light flared, searing the abyss itself—Selene’s grin faltered.
For the first ti, a flicker of irritation crossed her face.
“Tsk.
I was enjoying that.”
She flicked her wrist, and the darkness shivered.
The radiant glow snuffed out, as if swallowed by an unseen maw.
The paladin gasped, his body crashing onto the cold, damp stone of the Rotting Cathedral’s inner sanctum.
His vision blurred, his limbs aching, but he forced himself to rise.
Selene watched him with interest, her head tilted slightly.
“Still struggling.
Adorable.”
She stepped forward, her cloak billowing like living shadow.
The scent of death and honey clung to her, intoxicating and wrong.
“Tell , hero,” she mused, running a gloved finger down his chestplate, leaving behind trails of necrotic decay.
“Have you ever wondered why the light fails you… when you need it most?”
The paladin grimaced, trying to push her away, but his strength waned.
Selene chuckled.
A low, silken sound.
“It is because your gods do not love you.”
The words struck him deeper than any wound.
Selene leaned in, her breath cool against his ear.
“But I do.”
He shuddered.
A lie.
A trick.
And yet—her voice wove into his mind, delicate as silk, sinking deep.
“Give in.
Stop fighting.
Let show you what true purpose feels like.”
Her fingers brushed his temple, and the world shifted.
He saw it.
The endless web stretching beyond ti, beyond death.
A thousand souls woven together, bound in an eternal, unholy symphony.
No pain.
No suffering.
Only purpose.
Selene smiled.
“Beco part of sothing greater.”
The paladin’s breathing hitched.
For a mont, he felt the pull.
And then—
A voice.
Distant.
Faint.
“Stand, my son.”
A holy sigil flickered beneath the paladin’s skin.
A na—long forgotten—resurfaced in his heart.
His eyes snapped open.
And with a burst of divine wrath, he lunged at Selene.
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