The chamber was quiet, save for the anxious rustle of robes and the low hum of magic.
The Grand High Priest lay at the center, pale and unmoving on a marble altar. Around him stood four royal healers, their hands glowing with golden light as they channeled their spells into his body.
"He's not stabilizing," one murmured. "Pulse is erratic. His spirit thread it's fraying."
A fifth healer entered, eyes wide. "Reinforce him. Now."
The others obeyed, layering spell after spell restorations, blessings, divine touch, soul bind.
And then it happened.
The High Priest's body arched. His eyes shot open, glowing a sickly gold twisted with red.
"No!" a healer started.
He moved faster than any of them could react.
The High Priest slashed his ceremonial blade across the nearest healer's throat. Blood spattered the altar. A second later, he beheaded another with a clean, unnatural sweep.
The third healer screamed and didn't get to finish it.
The air changed.
The Grand High Priest raised his hands, mouth moving in what should have been a holy chant but the words came out broken, reversed, soaked in something foul.
It was a healing spell but wrong.
The surge of magic erupted across the room in a wave of corrupted light, striking all who stood near him.
Three mages flanking the room two fire mages and one of earth tried to shield themselves. Too late.
The spell twisted their essence before their mouths could even form incantations. Their veins darkened. Eyes rolled back. The fire mages began to boil from within, skin blackening as their own flames betrayed them. The earth mage sank to his knees, coughing up stone dust and blood.
Outside, Captain Thorne had just reached the chamber doors when he felt it—a pulse, like a storm tearing the air apart.
Then came the blast.
The room exploded outward, a roaring firestorm laced with corrupted magic. The corridor lit up in orange and black, and the shockwave threw nearby guards off their feet. Several were engulfed before they could scream.
Thorne ducked behind a stone brace just in time. The force cracked the walls and sent holy banners flying down the hall like burning paper.
When the sound died, only the groan of collapsing stone remained.
Smoke poured from the chamber. Something inside still moved.
Thorne didn't wait. He called out to the remaining guards.
"Contain the area! No one goes in!"
But his voice sounded far away. Everything felt… wrong.
Like something had broken the air itself.
Far below the temple, in the village streets, people turned their heads. The explosion echoed through every wall, every window.
Light flashed across the night sky. A shudder ran through the earth.
Ravik looked up from the alley with his crew, already moving before anyone said a word.
In the tavern, Cael paused mid-step as the lanterns flickered and the wind stopped for just a second.
He whispered, "No…"