The walls had collapsed hours ago. Smoke from the warehouses still drifted in the air. Blood stained the streets as if the city had been slit open.
Eldros, general of Marhiel, pressed his sword against the ground. He was struggling to breathe. His armor was shattered, covered in soot and ash. Around him, no one remained—no soldiers, no civilians. Only corpses.
And the sound... of slow footsteps.
The man appeared through the mist like a golden apparition. His armor was worn, its edges dulled, but it still gleamed with a sickly glow. A hood covered part of his face. His voice was soft, as if reciting a prayer.
—They do not cry... they do not scream... They have already accepted their fate —he said, stopping in front of the general.
Eldros raised his gaze. His eyes burned.
—Did you do this?
The Purifier nodded, serene.
—Not I... the goddess Kise, through me. I am merely the instrument.
—You're a monster! —Eldros spat—. A murderer! Children? The elderly? There was no one armed!
—And does sin ask for age before it is born? —he answered calmly—. Does impurity only reside in warriors, the corrupt, and the wicked?
Eldros wavered, but did not fall.
—I have fought in more wars than you can imagine. I have seen death up close. But never have I seen someone smile while massacring innocents.
The Purifier stopped just a few steps away from him.
—Innocents? There is no such thing. Only souls yet to be cleansed. Today, Marhiel has been purified. They have returned to the goddess's embrace... free of burdens. Free of pain.
Eldros gripped his sword hilt.
—Then... cleanse me too. But I will drag you to hell with me, wretched being.
The Purifier smiled.
—I will. But not out of hatred. Not out of judgment. Only because it is right.
Eldros roared and charged with everything he had left. A direct strike to the heart.
But time was not on his side.
The light was brief. Silent.
Eldros dropped to his knees before he could understand. His sword clattered against the ground. His blood soaked the stone.
The Purifier knelt before him, as if offering a blessing.
—Your soul weighed less than I expected. You struggled to accept the truth… but in the end, you came to me.
And then, in a quieter voice:
—Rest. You will no longer have to fight for a filthy world.
He stood. The beasts surrounded him in silence.
The city was completely still.
Only the echo of a sacred whisper remained:
—Kise, it is done.
[Report 47 – Silver Cross Guard]
Location: City of Marhiel Status: Total destruction. Confirmed survivors: None.
Reconnaissance Squad Notes:
Human remains and completely collapsed structures were found.
Presence of claw marks, bites, and traces of magical burns.
General Eldros's body was found at the center of the main square, lying in a pool of blood.
It is presumed that he led the defense to the very end.
The identity of the assailant is unknown. Speculation suggests the involvement of an unrecorded horde of beasts.
Conclusion: Total massacre. Nature of the attackers remains uncertain.
Darion let the parchment fall onto his desk.
He had read it three times.
Nothing changed. Not a word more. Not a concrete clue.
Marhiel had fallen.
And Eldros... had died alone.
He stifled a scream. Forced himself to breathe. To not hurl the inkwell at the wall. To not curse aloud.
The Council would do nothing. He already knew.
To them, it was just another village. Another insignificant loss.
But to Darion, Eldros was the best of them.
And they had let him die without answers.
Days passed. The city moved on as if nothing had happened. Merchants haggled, nobles laughed, and soldiers trained unaware that something was approaching.
In the inner courtyard of the barracks, Darion sat under the shade of a tree. For once, without armor, without a sword. Just a cup of tea and steady breathing.
Krau arrived minutes later, dragging his feet with his hands in his pockets.
—Did you call me?
—Yes —Darion said bluntly—. I want to ask you something, and I want you to answer me with the truth.
Krau eyed him warily, but nodded.
—What are you going to do with your life, Krau?
Silence settled between them.
Only the faint murmur of the wind passed between the trees.
—I don't know... —Krau finally answered, lowering his gaze—. I just know I don't want to be another guard. Like Dad. Like Grandpa. Like you.
Darion pressed his lips together but didn't speak.
—It's not that I don't respect you all. It's just... I can't imagine myself following orders, wearing a uniform, patrolling every day, as if my life were already written. I feel like I'm already old, and I haven't even started.
—And what are you going to do then? —Darion asked, softer but firm—. Keep getting into fights? Seeking trouble? Playing at being strong?
Krau swallowed hard.
—I want to be an adventurer.
Darion narrowed his eyes.
—An adventurer?
—Yeah. Travel the world, face monsters, discover ruins... help people. —He shrugged—. I know it sounds silly. Childish, maybe. But... when I hear stories about them, about their crazy adventures, I feel like that could be my life.
Darion was silent for a few seconds. Then, he let out a long sigh.
—Alright.
Krau lifted his head, incredulous.
—Really?
—On one condition —Darion added, pointing at him—. You go back to your studies. And you finish them. I don't want you to become a brute with a sword. I want you to know what you're doing out there. To be able to read contracts. Understand maps. Recognize traps. I don't want you to die because you don't know how to add.
Krau let out a nervous chuckle.
—That sounds reasonable... more or less.
Darion held his gaze. Not as a captain. Not as a figure of authority.
Just as his brother.
—I don't want to be your jailer anymore, Krau. I'm tired of chasing after you for every stupid thing you do. I want to be... your brother. Not your guard.
Krau swallowed hard, and for the first time in a long while, felt truly heard.
Darion offered him his hand.
—When you become that famous adventurer... tell me all your crazy stories.
Krau smiled and shook it.
—Deal.
—Oh, and now that I remember... —Krau added, scratching his head—, before all this, some crazy old man offered me the chance to become a paladin.
Darion squinted at him.
—A paladin? What kind of crazy old man would make that offer?
—One who threw me to the ground like I weighed nothing... I don't know, he said weird things about strength and marks.
—No wonder you worry me.
Days later, the kingdom's banners fluttered over what remained of Marhiel.
The king himself had arrived.
He was accompanied by a member of the High Council, several research mages, and a full royal escort.
The air still smelled of ash. The walls were blackened. Some bodies remained unidentified.
—What do we know? —the king asked, frowning.
A reconnaissance commander spoke.
—It is confirmed that the responsible creatures did not devour their victims. They merely... killed them.
Some show bite marks or claw wounds.
But others were untouched by beasts.
—So?
—They were stabbed, Your Majesty. In the heart. Or multiple vital areas. Clean executions. Precise.
The Council member paled.
—Beasts that kill... and stop? What kind of instinct is that?
At that moment, one of the mages appeared, breathless.
—Gentlemen... you must come to the chapel.
He led them inside the small temple of Kise.
Beneath the goddess's statue, at the base of the altar, someone had written a message in dried red paint.
It wasn't blood, but it looked like it.
The words were perfectly inscribed, as if written with devotion.
**"Let the flesh writhe and the soul burn, for in pain, forgiveness is born.
And when the screams cease, the goddess receives us.
Do not fear purification. It is her greatest gift."**
The temple fell silent.
And for the first time, the Council could no longer deny the obvious:
This was not the work of mere beasts.