Stone dust rained from the ceiling as Aiden stood on the battlements, coat torn and blood streaking his left arm.
The Sky Dungeon convergence had accelerated overnight. What started as probing attacks from lesser voidspawn had turned into a coordinated siege by morning.
Herald entities—twisted amalgamations of corrupted holy light and abyssal hunger—circled the perimeter like vultures made of stained glass and screaming mouths.
Below them, Morten's combined forces pressed the outer wards: Church inquisitors in silver plate, cabal mages flinging calculated hexes, and opportunistic mercenaries looking for a payday in the chaos.
Sabotage attempts were already underway inside the lower cloisters; two of Bela's lesser acolytes had been found with their throats slit and anti-Luciferian runes carved into their chests.
