Chapter 41 – The Silence Before Collapse
Part 2: She Who Lit the Fire
It began with a sound no one heard.
Not a bang. Not a scream. Just a soft crack deep below the foundation of Ziraka's cathedral—like a frozen lake splitting beneath a priest's whispered blessing.
And then… silence.
For three minutes, everything held.
And then it didn't.
The first to die was a glyph keeper.
He entered the reliquary's inner vault to investigate the dimming runes. Found the floor beneath his feet trembling like breath held too long.
He turned to leave.
The ward exploded inward.
No flame. Just pure force—a blast of unlight that slammed into him with the weight of every mistake the Church had buried in that chamber.
His body never left the room.
Only his robes.
Above, the cathedral choir was preparing the midmorning hymn.
It never began.
The inner walls convulsed—wards reacting too late, divine light trying to contain a pulse that wasn't divine anymore.
One by one, the sanctified sigils shattered.
The marble altar cracked.
And from beneath the cathedral's central column, a shadow rose.
It didn't speak.
It didn't scream.
It just… uncoiled.
Ashern stood behind the bar when the tremor reached the outer districts.
It was faint. Just a soft tremble in the floor. The mugs rattled.
A few patrons paused.
"Quarry blast?" one muttered.
The bartender shrugged.
But Ashern was already moving.
He walked into the back room, pulled on his coat, and picked up the shadow blades hovering in the dark.
He didn't need to be there for what came next.
His part was already done.
In the cathedral, the central nave collapsed inward.
Choir benches folded like paper. Stone split in jagged teeth. Fire flared—not natural, but null flame, devouring light itself.
A priest ran toward the exit—half his body gone, the other burned in shapes no fire should make.
Outside, people screamed.
Guards tried to enter.
The vault chamber was already gone.
[System Alert: Vault Destroyed – Confirmation Complete]➤ Target Status: Obliterated➤ Cathedral Integrity: 11%➤ Civilian Panic Level: Rising
"The truth escaped.The gods stayed silent."
At sunset, the Church delegation arrived.
Too late.
Half the cathedral smoldered. The reliquary was reduced to shards. Vault records were ash.
But something had been left behind.
Inside the chamber—where the containment seals once glowed—a single glyph was painted in blood.
Not Ashern's mark.
Seréya's.
Her personal access code, logged and branded by every binding rune that failed.
Her inspection stamp on the ward collapse report.
Her name signed on the null-oil requisition.
And Seréya?
Gone.
No body.
No trace.
No exit.
"She did this," a priest whispered, horrified."She planned it. She turned on us."
"No… we trusted her.""She was one of us…""Why?"
The answers didn't matter.
Only the evidence.
And the fear.
If Seréya—gold-eyed, loyal Seréya—had done this… no one was safe.
Not from the outside.
Not even from within.
That night, the Church issued a quiet internal decree:
Purge all associates tied to Seréya Lux.Heretic. Traitor. Target.
And Ashern?
He sat by the tavern window, sipping a cup of bitterroot wine as the bells tolled.
Not for mourning.
For reckoning.
[System Notification: Cathedral Annihilation – Confirmed]✔ Vault Destruction✔ Secondary Casualties: 38✔ Target Blame: Seréya
🔓 [Race Awakening – Umbrakin Path: UNSEALED]"You were never born of light.Now stop pretending you ever needed it."