李淳罡死了还是飞升了

By sunrise, Arran thought, there would be barely a trace left of the battle that had claimed so many lives.

The cityfolk would awaken to a new ruler, but few of them would ever realize how bloody the change of power had truly been. And even those who did would only know because they’d lost friends or family.

This last thought caused him some worry. He’d slain hundreds of Darians in the battle, and if word spread — as it certainly would — he would gain no small number of enemies.

Of course, he was long used to having enemies, but as an outsider in a strange land, the idea of having unknown enemies out to take revenge on him was a concerning one.

Yet there was little he could do but to wait until they departed for the Desolation, where he should be out of reach of any Darians seeking vengeance for their losses.

Until then, he would just have to keep his eyes open for danger.

While most of the guards and soldiers near the gate appeared to be Kadun’s former subjects, Arran noticed that there was a smaller group overseeing their efforts, led by not just one but two Knights. And among that smaller group, he recognized Sassun.

The middle-aged man hurried over as soon as he saw Kaleesh and Arran, one of the two Knights following several paces behind him.

"Captain!" he said as he approached, a rare look of relief on his normally stoic face. "Glad to see you’re alright." He glanced at Arran, and added, "You, too."

"Rannoc didn’t return after his victory?" the captain asked.

"He did," Sassun replied. "He told me to wait for the two of you, but when you didn’t return, I feared you might have run into trouble."

At that moment, they were joined by the Knight — a tall, dark-haired woman clad in starmetal armor. And as she joined their small group, she looked at Kaleesh and Arran with some curiosity.

"So the two of you defeated a Knight?" There was a trace of doubt in her voice as she asked the question, as if the idea was almost too absurd to be true.

Kaleesh shot her a broad smile. "With luck, anything is possible."

"This is Muna," Sassun interjected. "Rannoc instructed her to accompany us back to the mines." He spoke with barely veiled annoyance, clearly not happy with the idea of having a Darian Knight along.

"Indeed," the woman said. "But Lord Rannoc told me that the three of you are to be made citizens without delay. So before we depart, we shall pay a visit to the temple."

A hint of annoyance crossed her face at those last words, as if just the thought of visiting the temple was enough to sour her mood. Not a pious woman, it seemed.

Arran, however, could not help but feel some relief at the news.

That Rannoc wanted them to be made citizens immediately was a good sign that the Lord intended to keep his word. Not enough for Arran to drop his guard entirely, but a good start nonetheless.

The temple turned out to be near the center of the city, barely a stone’s throw away from the keep. Yet while the keep was a massive building that lacked any attempt at elegance or subtlety, the temple was its exact opposite.

Tall and hewn entirely from white marble, its lines were curved and elegant, with several slender spires that reached up into the sky. If the keep was intended to intimidate, then the temple had clearly been built to inspire.

The Knight, however, seemed unimpressed. She stepped through the temple’s wide doors without any sign of reverence, her demeanor that of a seasoned soldier on an unpleasant task she wanted finished sooner rather than later.

The temple’s interior was even more marvelous than its exterior had been, with a wide hall whose walls were lined with intricate statues. And higher up, Arran could see masterfully painted murals which depicted various scenes of battle.

The Knight ignored the sights. Instead, she cast a quick glance around at the handful of people who were present in the hall, then immediately approached the nearest one — a slender young man in white robes.

"Acolyte," she said in a firm voice, "fetch us a priest."

The young man looked at her with wide eyes. "Lady Knight," he began, a tremble in his voice, "it’s the middle of the night. All the priests are asleep."

"Then wake one," Muna replied. "Now."

The acolyte gave her a fearful look, apparently still hesitant to wake a priest from his sleep. Yet the Knight’s expression was as firm as her voice, and a moment later, the young man hurried off, a look of resignation in his eyes.

Given the choice between angering a priest or a Knight, it seemed the acolyte had decided the latter was the more dangerous option. A wise choice, Arran thought, given the Knight’s mood.

They waited in silence for several minutes, with neither the Knight nor her companions so much as saying a word.

Then, finally, a heavy-set man entered the hall, his white hair ruffled and his robes unkempt. At a glance, Arran could see the man had been asleep only moments earlier, and as he approached the small group, his face held an irritated look.

"What’s the meaning of this?" he demanded in a shrill voice. Yet as he approached the Knight, a frown appeared on his face. "Who are you?"

"Lord Rannoc has ordered that these three be made citizens immediately," she replied, ignoring his question.

"Lord Rannoc?" The white-haired man looked at her in confusion. "Why would Lord Rannoc..." He stopped mid-sentence, and his eyes widened in shock. "The city has fallen?!"

"It has," Muna said. "Fallen, conquered, and taken. And its new ruler wishes for these three outsiders to be given their citizenship. Now."

"Its new ruler..." The priest repeated the words in a stunned voice, as if he could scarcely believe that such a thing had actually happened. "Where is Lord Kadun?"

"Kadun is dead," the Knight replied. "Now, do you insist on wasting even more of our time, or will you do as the city’s new Lord has ordered?"

"Dead..." the white-haired man mumbled, clearly still shocked by the news.

But then, he shook his head, as if to clear his mind. "The church has always maintained good relations with the city’s ruler," he said, his voice firmer than before. "Naturally, we will honor Lord Rannoc’s request. Please follow me."

He guided them into one of the chambers adjoining the main hall without delay, his earlier complaints suddenly replaced by a friendliness that seemed almost excessive. From the look of it, he was already looking to protect the church’s relationship with the city’s new ruler.

The chamber they entered was small but well-furnished, and as they stepped inside, he motioned at the velvet-clad chairs it held.

"Please, sit down," he said.

As Arran and the others sat down, the priest hurriedly left the room, returning only moments later with two bottles in his hands. The larger of these looked to be filled with wine, while the smaller held a clear liquid that Arran suspected was water.

"Since Lord Rannoc wishes these three outsiders to be made citizens at once," he said, "I will dispense with ceremony."

"Please do," the Knight said.

The priest nodded, putting down the two bottles on a small table. Then, he retrieved three small glasses, which he delicately placed next to the bottles.

"Today," he said, facing the three outsiders, "you three will become Darians, sharing in the gifts our gods have bestowed on us. The gift you will be given today is a token of your citizenship, and your devotion to the Imperium and its gods. Should you prove yourselves worthy, you may receive additional gifts in the future, ones that—"

"Get on with it," Muna interrupted him.

He gave her an angry glare, but restrained himself a moment later. "Very well," he said, his expression calm once more.

Without any further words, he filled the three glasses with red liquid from the larger bottle. Then, he opened the smaller bottle, and carefully added a single drop of the clear liquid it held to each of the three glasses.

"Be more generous," the Knight said.

The priest gave her a distraught look. "But this is—"

"Lord’s orders," she interrupted him. "Unless you want to reject his request?"

The priest sighed, then added another two drops to each glass.

"More than that," Muna said.

Outrage flashed across the priest’s face, but this time, he did not complain. Instead, he added three more drops of clear liquid to each glass, then gave the Knight a questioning look.

"That’ll do," she said, giving him a slight nod.

The man breathed a sigh of either relief or frustration, but he took the three glasses, then handed them to Arran and the other two.

"Once you drink this," he said, "you will be Darians in the eyes of the gods. You will be sworn to defend the Imperium and its people, and to fight its enemies until your dying breath." He paused briefly, then said, "Drink, and receive the gods’ blessing."

Arran hesitated, but only for a moment. Then, he brought the glass to his lips.