The sanctuary fell quiet in the presence of the figures at the front.
Even pirates who had spent their entire lives shouting across taverns and battle decks found themselves lowering their voices as their eyes adjusted to the sight before them.
At the center of the raised platform stood Kleophan, and he mostly towered above everyone.
The demigod stood nearly nine feet tall, his entire body formed from clay-like flesh that looked sculpted by divine hands (which they were). The texture of his skin resembled sun dried earth, smooth in some places yet scratchy in others. His eyes were completely white, empty of pupils or color, and they held a silent stare that felt ancient.
Short curls of hair rested on his head, the same pale clay color as his skin, giving him the appearance of a statue that had somehow woke up and stepped down from its pedestal.
He wore no armor at all like they expected him to; his chest and torso remained bare, revealing the same sculpted clay body beneath the divine light of the sanctuary. Around his waist hung a tattered cloak that draped down from his hips like the remains of an ancient garment worn through centuries of wear and tear.
His right arm carried something far more unsettling though; red tattoos crawled across the clay surface of that arm, twisting symbols and ancient markings moving deeply into the material of his body, slowly sliding across his arm like a snake hunting a mouse.
From his back extended enormous wings formed entirely from clay as well, each feather shaped from the same sculpted material as the rest of him, and they were massive and imperfect.
And above his head floated a halo made of jagged clay fused together into a rough circular crown.
The next demigod, stood Nepherel.
Nepherel stood tall and composed in garments of dark purple fabric that flowed elegantly around her form. Over those robes rested intricately engraved golden armor that wrapped around her torso like a delicate breastplate, every inch of it having mysterious looking symbols of divine authority.
A long strip of white cloth had been bound tightly across her eyes, concealing them completely. The blindfold wrapped smoothly around her head while strands of blonde hair spilled freely down her shoulders and back, glowing beneath the sanctuary's light.
Behind her head hovered a radiant golden disk that shone intensely like a miniature sun. The disk formed a halo like crown of light framing her figure, casting rays across the room. In one hand she carried a long steel sword with a simple but refined guard. The blade pointed downward toward the floor, resting in a position that had quiet restraint rather than aggression.
In her other hand she held a delicate set of golden scales; the chains hung perfectly balanced as the instrument of judgment swayed gently with the movement of her arm.
Standing at the other side of the platform was Yeshe, the last demigod sibling.
Yeshe's body appeared entirely made from radiant gold, his skin reflected the sanctuary's light like polished metal, shining with brilliance that made his entire form appear almost untouchable—every surface of his body burned with radiance that almost blinded the shit out of whoever got too close to him.
His short curly hair was textured, also made from the same gold color, cascading around his head like strands of sunlight frozen into place.
His face tilted slightly upward as if he were eternally gazing toward some unseen brilliance above the sanctuary, and a long piece of flowing golden cloth draped over one shoulder and stretched diagonally across his chest before falling along his side like a classical robe.
Above him floated a vast celestial structure composed of liquid golden shapes and splashes of light, the floating formation formed the image of a massive eye surrounded by sparkling stars and drifting droplets of gold flames.
Kappa inspected them, her eyes squinting every once in a while due to the brightness, saying, "Awesome…"
Fharess watched, saying, "This power…"
It was overwhelming, and Fharess was feeling the most of it; The whispers of the god of darkness went crazier than ever in her head, it wanted to tear those damn demigods apart, or to leave, either one would do just fine. The voices almost influenced her, but she kept her composure, knowing doing anything risky in here was fatal as hell.
Lodis kept her head down, still not looking at any of the demigods that were in front of her, but she definitely felt their power and presence, as it almost brought her to her knees.
Standing beside the three demigods were the highest ranking Paladin Knights.
First among them stood Sephyrit Xaxiel.
20 years old, her long straight white hair flowed smooth around her shoulders, shining like fresh snowfall against her porcelain skin. Her face possessed a beauty so striking that it almost felt unnatural, as if perfection itself had been manifested into human form. Her eyes were gold too, but almost resembled a yellow color, glowing with cold authority that demanded obedience without a single word spoken.
Large white feathered wings rose from her back, arching up behind her like a mantle of divine power.
Her armor was crafted from white and polished silver, shaped perfectly to her form with graceful precision. Gold filigree traced across the plates elaborately while embedded gemstones glittered along the edges of the armor. A jeweled circlet rested upon her head like a crown, reinforcing the authority she carried with her effortless presence, and at her waist hung a sword secured beneath an ornate belt.
Throughout the world, Sephyrit Xaxiel was known not only as a powerful Paladin Knight, but also as one of the most beautiful figures alive. (Confirmed by the thousands upon thousands upon millions upon millions of people she's come across)
Standing to the other side of the platform was Commander Sergiel Vass.
He appeared far older than the others present, deep lines marked the edges of his weathered face, and streaks of grey color ran through the dark hair tied behind his head. His beard was trimmed short but carried the same signs of age and battle experience.
His armor was heavy and practical compared to the ornate elegance of Sephyrit's. Large plates of white steel across his body, each one scratched and worn from years of combat; gold engravings on the sides revealed his rank within the order. A long red cape hung behind his shoulders, brushing the marble floor of the sanctuary.
Despite his age, the way he stood revealed the posture of someone who had spent a lifetime commanding battlefields and soldiers, until he had joined the Paladins under Morcant and the demigods.
The third high ranking knight beside the demigods was Strodan Kenley…and Strodan was built like a fortress.
His broad shoulders stretched his armor, which had been forged from white steel reinforced with dark yellow bands across the chest and arms. Unlike the elegance of the others, his armor favored durability and strength. Short black hair framed a stern face marked by several old scars crossing his jaw and brow, his eyes were dark and steady, constantly scanning the crowd of pirates as though measuring every single one of them, almost judging them with his eyes in a way.
A massive halberd rested upright beside him, the long shaft he'd firmly in one gauntleted hand; he looked like the type of man who had crushed rebellions with his bare hands and his big ass head.
Down in the crowd, Fharess stood rigid, sweat rolled gradually down the side of her face. Several of the figures on the platform kept looking at her.
The demigods….the knights…all of them staring at her in tandem. More than once their attention moved toward the witch standing among the pirates, and her stomach tightened up, like she was gonna vomit.
'No…'
For a moment she thought they might simply attack her.
Then a voice spoke behind her.
"You do not need to fear me, little witch."
Fharess gasped softly, she spun around just as Kleophan walked calmly past her.
"You are needed."
Fharess blinked.
'Wasn't he just…?!'
When she simply blinked, Kleophan was already standing beside his siblings at the front of the sanctuary.
The pirates nearby erupted into uneasy tones:
"Did you see that?!"
"How the hell did he get behind us?!"
"Gods above… that big clay bastard moved like smoke."
One pirate rubbed his arms nervously.
"I ain't ever seen real demigods before. I mean, we all knew they were in here, right?"
"But seeing them is way different than hearing about them.."
Another muttered under his breath.
"Well I don't like it."
A third pirate scratched his beard.
"Yeah but look at that golden one. That dude's made of money…" he was talking about Yeshe.
Kappa stared forward with sparkling excitement.
"Oh my goodness…!" Her grin widened. "I want to fight them!"
Lodis immediately grabbed her arm.
"No."
Kappa tried leaning forward anyway.
"But look at them! Everyone we've fought dies too easily!"
Lodis kept her head lowered toward the floor, carefully avoiding looking toward the platform just as she had promised earlier.
"You are not fighting any demi gods today," she said calmly. "And neither am I. I do not wish to fight in a sanctuary, it would not be very…proper of me."
At the front of the sanctuary, Nepherel stepped slightly forward, and her voice flowed through the massive chamber with soft clarity.
"The Divine Hierarchy has called for the strength of you… plunderers."
The golden scales in her hand swayed softly back and forth every time she spoke.
It was silent again, the beauty of the sanctuary was a sight to behold, which still kept the attention of most of the pirates.
Which meant absolutely nothing.
Pirates were pirates. Put them in a holy sanctuary, sit them in front of beings made from divinity itself, and they would still measure the room in coin.
Near the middle of the crowd, a knot of men bent their heads together, shoulders knocking, breath sour with smoke and old rum. One of them tilted his chin toward the figure blazing atop the platform.
"That holy bastard right there is made of nothing but gold…"
Yeshe. They were staring at Yeshe like starving dogs eyeing a butcher's stall, because he was golden.
Another pirate dragged his fingers through his beard, scratching at flakes of skin caught in the wiry mess. "Think we can take them down? Our crew has twenty members. All Smokers."
One of the others squinted at him, as if trying to decide whether he was stupid or brave. "You serious?"
The bearded man bared teeth the color of spoiled butter. "We might have a chance." He tapped the pipe at his belt with two fingers, slow and proud. "Some of us risked our lives and smoked Demonleaf, so we've got permanent dark magic now. Even though some died in the process, it's worth it for the power it gives."
A third leaned in, his breath brushing against collars and cheeks. "And that's the perfect counter against light bastards. Doesn't matter if they're demigods or not."
The first one's mouth stretched wider, greed did strange things to faces; pulled them thin and made the eyes shine in ugly ways.
"I'll give the signal."
His stare latched onto Yeshe again, calculating weight, height, how much a head like that might fetch if melted down.
"Just imagine how much we'll pull off a golden demi-god."
Above them, Kleophan spoke.
The massive clay figure did not so much as twitch. His towering frame stood like a statue dragged from some ancient ruin and given breath. When he talked, the sound rolled outward, filling every arch and corner of the sanctuary.
"We will not withhold any information from any of you. Using the power of Reveal from our father, all things are laid bare before us. As children of Morcant, nothing escapes our sight."
The red markings along his arm wandered across the clay surface like ink, crawling without hurry.
"We used Reveal to locate a target. One that Morcant and the other divine gods have commanded humanity to kill. A target who we have deemed to be the Pirate Devil."