She stood upon the broken steps of the chapel, her cloak scorched, her blade still red at the edge. Behind her, smoke curled in the wind. Around her, hundreds stood in blood and ash—but alive. The Silent Bells had rung. Once.
"Today… they tried to silence us again."
"With fire. With fear. With words dressed in faith but sharpened like blades."
"But we are still here."
"We did not bow. We did not run. And for the first time in a hundred years, the bells rang not for death… but for defiance."
She pointed to the scorched ground where the Redeemer had fallen.
"Let this be known across the kingdom. We do not serve the kind of faith that punishes the hungry. We do not answer to priests who set fire to children's bread. We do not kneel before those who mistake cruelty for righteousness."
"We are Vireloch. Scarred, frostbitten—but free."
She raised her voice so even those on rooftops could hear.
"And if they come again… if they send more swords, more scrolls, more holy chains—then let them hear this:"
"The bell has rung. We are awake now."