Last Born Of The Desdemona

Chapter 392: Chapter 392: Faceless’s Annoying Mouth

Chapter 392 – Faceless’s Annoying Mouth

The Gate of Death looked exactly the same as ever, the Kingdom of Death bustling with activity beneath Vorn’s throne, the Lord of Death.

But beside his throne stood a strange being, its body, skin tone, shape, and clothing shifting endlessly, over and over. Yet no matter how much the rest of it changed, its head stayed completely faceless.

"You could have used a stronger identity," Vorn said, cheek resting lazily on his palm, still hooded as always. "We lost the man’s artifact because of that."

"You’ll truly blame everyone but your own descendants, Vorn," Faceless scoffed. "That identity was more than enough. But your useless—!"

Vorn shot him a glance, cutting the sentence short. Faceless shrugged, scoffing anyway. "You don’t scare me, Vorn. You know that."

"Faceless, there are bigger matters here. MasterofPaths’s artifact was our lead to the dead god," Vorn hissed. "That corpse we’ve been hunting for so long. We finally had it. We found a real clue. And now you’re telling me it’s all for nothing? How?"

"I don’t know," Faceless replied, tilting its head, its body currently shaped like a young girl. "But you talk as if you did any of the actual work, Vorn. You did essentially nothing."

It paused, its body now that of a bulky man, then continued, "I was the one who infiltrated the museum. I stole the corpse of the Keeper of Artifacts. I spent months convincing those annoying old children to let me into the Deathless Crusaders so they could inspect the artifacts for whatever bullshit I came up with. Do you have any idea how hard it was to convince those tedious little mortals without just killing them all?"

"You can’t kill them," Vorn shot back, growing visibly irritated. "The Museum was founded by MasterofPaths. Before he died, he left behind three disciples. All still hidden there."

The Lord of Death studied him, eyes narrowed beneath his hood. "Had you done something as stupid as killing the Council, you’d have created an even bigger mess for us."

"That doesn’t change the fact I handed you the perfect opportunity to steal the artifact," Faceless said. "And who did you send? Your own descendants? Fine, I could’ve accepted that. But out of all of them, you sent Hel? Vorn, are we being serious right now? Because she clearly wasn’t."

"She was qualified."

"Your descendants sealed 50 percent of her power before she even went in," Faceless hissed. "Had she used her full strength, we wouldn’t be here right now, discussing a failed mission. Understand? And why didn’t you send one of the Hooded Ones?"

"They exist to protect the bloodline. Nothing else."

"For a bloodline you plan to destroy, you sure seem to care about it."

"It’s my bloodline, Faceless," Vorn snapped. "The one thing that still matters to me in this whole forsaken world, understand? And I’m destroying it for a purpose."

"Did you send Hel for that same purpose, then?" Faceless snickered. "Or was that guilt talking? After all, you brought back the man she loved as a young woman, only to push her into an affair once he was revived. Then you manipulated her husband, and let the two of them nearly kill each other."

Faceless tilted its head towards Vorn, mocking, "Ah, let me guess...all for some purpose, right? You gods are all the same."

Vorn didn’t answer right away. He looked out over his Kingdom of Death below, unreadable thoughts drifting through his divine mind.

He’d always known allying himself with Faceless was unwise. Just as this being had no fixed identity — changing every single second — its loyalty was equally unfixed.

Always shifting. Never consistent.

Yet its power was genuinely unique. No one else was like Faceless. Which was exactly why most gods kept their distance from it.

Still, the Lord of Death knew this alliance had run its course. But for now...

"Is this about my bloodline, or the dead god’s corpse, Faceless?" Vorn asked. "We should focus on getting the artifact back, before whoever these beings are figures out the location."

"That’ll be difficult," Faceless said. "Every identity I had planted there is dead now. And after this failure, the Museum will be far more careful going forward."

"No other options, then?"

"Can we really not divine them?"

"I already tried, and I can’t. And I’d rather not involve gods carrying Seer or Prophet authorities."

"At this point, what you want doesn’t really matter, Vorn. You screwed this up," Faceless said, voice turning cold. "We’ll track the artifact itself instead. That’ll lead us to both the artifact and whoever stole it from us."

Faceless slowly, eerily, tilted its head towards the Lord of Death, its body now some hybrid of fish and mammal. "And the easiest way to do that is through that goddess."

"Who?" Vorn hissed.

"Don’t play dumb with me. I’m fully caught up on all the divine drama," Faceless chuckled. "I’m talking about Hecate, Lady of Crossroads, She Who Sees All Possible Paths, and, of course..."

Vorn already knew, in that instant, it was time to be rid of Faceless.

"...the one who rejected you, oh great Lord of Death, Vorn, the Usurper of Authority!"

...

At the same time, far from the Hushsight Domain, inside a rough cave, air damp, ground littered with jagged stones and hissing snakes, Sarah leaned back against the wall.

Her moon mask still covered her face, too afraid to remove it and risk her identity being divined.

She breathed heavily, her body a map of wounds, but adrenaline and excitement surged through her blood regardless.

Sarah had been terrifyingly close to death, just moments ago. Closer than she’d ever felt before, and yet, somehow, freer, more alive than she’d ever felt, her heart refusing to settle.

"I... did it," she muttered, staring at the box in her trembling hand. "I did it. I nearly died, and Cass saved me but..."

She took a deep breath, unable to hold it in any longer.

"...I did it. I did something other than just being a maid. Something other than crying over a man. I stole an artifact a Fourth Rank being wanted. I, Sarah of Secrecy, did that."

Her moon mask vanished, and tears filled Sarah’s eyes. Not the tears of pain she’d shed daily for the past several days, these were tears of happiness, proof, finally, that she could do something meaningful too.

Something she could actually be proud of.

She wasn’t just a maid anymore. She wasn’t Cassius’s servant.

She was her own person now, Sarah. She had friends, and her closest one was Cassius. She had people she wanted to grow closer to, like Keisha and Natalia.

And now, in that rare moment of clarity and happiness, she could actually picture herself accepting Kalor’s offer, becoming a detective.

For herself, yes. But also because a detective role within the Deathless Crusaders would be perfectly suited to her identity as Moon within her sect.

Slowly, Sarah was starting to see a path forward. Slowly, she was beginning to believe there might actually be hope for her.

Hope for a better future.

But every time she pictured that better future, her mind instinctively pulled up Raven’s face.

His face, his scent, his smile, his gentle, easygoing nature. And then, deeper still, the memory of his body against hers, the sensation, the pleasure, and Sarah shook her head hard, biting her lip.

Her mood dipped slightly, and part of her wanted to simply erase the memories and be done with it. Her Aspect could do that.

But she refused. Those very memories made this victory feel even more meaningful to her.

She refused to erase them, doubting she’d still be herself, without them.

’I’ll get through this, Queen,’ she prayed, ignoring the hissing snakes, bowing her head to her goddess. ’With your help, I’ll succeed in letting him go, and rebuild my life without a single thought of him. Today’s my first step. Thank you. Thank you for guiding me. Thank you for helping me. Thank you for listening.’

Once more, a soothing warmth washed through her, and Sarah wept in gratitude and joy.

Then she lifted the artifact. "Your Blessed, Cassius, asked me to offer you this artifact, so you could keep it safe for us."

She carried out the proper procedure for its acceptance, and Ananke drew the artifact into the Gate of Fate and Secrecy itself.

[Accepted, dear Sarah.]

Sarah beamed, savoring the warmth her goddess held for her. Then she stood, knowing this wasn’t over yet.

"One more," Sarah said, recalling Cassius’s parting words before he’d left. "Second heist. Shall we?"

—End of Chapter 392—