And so, it began.
The turning of the Grand High Priest —once a beacon of divine grace—was not just a tragedy.
It was the spark that awakened the virus, hidden deep in the lifeblood of the world.
What he unleashed didn't stay contained in that chamber. His corrupted healing spell seeped into the mana flow, tainting every prayer, every incantation, every sacred artifact, every Aetherstone. It spread like fire, invisible and silent, carried by faith and power alike.
Those closest to magic—mages, priests, templars, enchanters—began to rot.
Not all at once. But enough.
Enough to tip the world.
Cael stood frozen outside the tavern, eyes locked on the glowing remains of the upper sanctum. Smoke spiraled into the dusk sky. The entire district around the temple buzzed with panic.
He barely heard the panicked voices.
"Did you hear that?"
"Something exploded—up by the altar!"
A group of soldiers rushed past, pushing through the gathering crowd, weapons drawn. Their commander shouted orders to secure the roads and assist the High Priest but still unaware that it was already too late.
Then it happened.
A roar of flame not from the ruins, but above.
Cael looked up.
High above the rooftops, a figure hovered, twitching mid-air its robes burned black, face half-melted, arms pulsing with unstable energy. It was a mage. Or rather, what remained of one.
His hands rose. Not with purpose. Not with thought. Just... raw reflex.
A cluster of fireballs rained down into the village, crashing into streets, buildings, and people with devastating force.
The first one struck a guard post stone cracked apart, and screams filled the air.
Cael flinched. His legs refused to move.
Another volley dropped.
One came straight for him.
"CAEL!"
A blur hit him from the side Ravik tackled him hard, sending them both tumbling behind a toppled cart just before the fireball landed. The blast tore up the ground, splintering wood and filling the air with smoke and heat.
Ravik grabbed his arm, pulling him up.
"Focus!" he barked, eyes wild. "You want to burn here, or move?"
Cael blinked the haze from his eyes. Everything was chaos.
Soldiers screamed as they tried to organize. Villagers fled. Some fell mid-run, coughing, twitching others turned to fight and suddenly froze, vomiting blood or convulsing violently.
Mages clutched at their heads. One exploded in a flash of unstable mana.
"Ravik…" Cael muttered. "What is this?"
"I don't know," Ravik said, panting. "But it's not just a failed spell. Something's gone wrong."
They turned together, watching as a second explosion lit the distant temple ruins.
The sky above the holy district no longer looked like it belonged to the gods.