A calamity swept away the lives of thousands in the town, leaving only three survivors and a single horse. Such a tragedy would be considered dire even in the northern frontiers, where clashes with orcs, wildling tribes, and White Walkers are a brutal norm.
All the more so, since this was in the prosperous and peaceful Southwind Province.
The raging flas of Seth Town released black smoke that blotted out the sunlight over the plains. This scene, like demons clawing across the sky, soon drew the attention of a passing rchant caravan. The rchants dispatched their guards to investigate.
Shortly after, a fast patrol of the Radiant Church arrived.
The Temple Knights stared at the blazing town, their faces twisted with horror. Never in their mory had anything of this scale happened in peaceful Seth. Even in cases of Chaos cultist sacrifices or monster attacks, casualties rarely exceeded a hundred.
But thousands, all at once, gone without a trace…
“Why aren’t you fighting the fire!?”
The leading Paladin dismounted, glaring with disgust at the caravan guards who only watched in fear. “Even hostile nations would send their soldiers to help! Will you stand idle while thousands burn alive!?”
“It was I who stopped them.”
A cold, quiet voice drew all eyes. The rchants stepped aside, revealing a silver-haired girl seated on a boulder. The air around her was heavy as death itself, and hearts seized in pain just from looking at her.
The Paladin turned his gaze to the silver-haired, red-eyed young woman in a black nun’s habit—Maria von Cainhurst. He did not know her na, but the oppressive grief radiating from her chest made breathing hard.
“You are…?”
The Paladin’s voice unconsciously softened. That aura—grief and mourning so intense it was palpable.
“Maria. Eldest daughter of Pastor Lynn, guardian of Seth Town. My identity may be verified in the Radiant Church or any other True God church. Paladin, you must not fight the flas. The corruption there is no re filth—it is utterly beyond salvation. Seth Town is lost. Report imdiately to your superiors, and dispatch no fewer than five Silver-ranked purifiers to contain it.”
Her voice was steady, as though the burning town were not her ho.
The Paladin stared at Maria, a shudder crawling deep into his blue eyes.
“Hey, tin man. If I were you, I wouldn’t rudely stare at a lady like that.”
The interruption ca with a faint reek of alcohol—Gehrman, the First Hunter. His leaking aura alone explained why Maria’s words carried such weight.
The Temple Knights staggered back several steps, cowed by the pressure.
“…Forgive , Sister Maria. You mustn't remain here.”
“I won’t run. I won’t hide. Just warn your superiors quickly, or else…” She raised a trembling hand toward the inferno. “…When the fire dies down, sothing inside may co out.”
The Paladin shivered violently at her words. He silently prayed to the Radiant Lord.
Whatever had consud Seth Town, it was far beyond the patrol’s strength. Both the Silver-ranked presence and Sister Maria’s calm declaration proved this was a calamity that demanded urgent escalation.
The Temple Knights quickly sealed the area while invoking their divine communications.
Through his spell, the Paladin even heard the crash of a bottle dropped by the town pastor on the other end—proof that the sudden death of thousands nearly struck the man down on the spot. Barely steadying himself, he issued orders to quarantine the site and prepared to report higher.
Southwind Province had been restless of late.
Now with this catastrophe, so lords might lose their thrones.
Elsewhere, Maria cradled the sleeping Felia, tears still wet on her face. Having teetered on the edge of collapse, she finally cald—but her body trembled now and then, her scarlet eyes lingering too long on Felia’s pale, slender neck.
Were it not for the crushing sorrow cloaking her, one might think Sister Maria intended sothing unspeakable toward her younger sister.
“Damn it…”
With a curse, Maria wrenched her gaze away.
The Cainhurst Bloodkin bloodline within her clamored—it was ti to drink.
Since becoming a Bloodbound Scholar, she had felt the faint call of Cainhurst’s true blood. Embracing the Cainhurst Bloodkin heritage ant bleeding herself into weaponized vitae. Were she not pureborn, she would already be dead.
She needed blood. Vast amounts of high-quality blood.
The roar of her bloodline stord into her mind, dark cravings gnawing at her sanity. More than once, she had nearly sunk her teeth into Felia’s neck—restraining herself only at the last instant.
“Fall to the beast? No. My body… is mine to command!”
Maria dug her nails into her half-healed wrist wound. The sting cleared her mind with a hiss.
“You won’t last like this.”
The lazy voice snapped her alert. Scarlet eyes narrowed in hostility—Gehrman crouched casually before her, eting her gaze without flinching.
“Everyone has secrets. I won’t pry. But repressing your instincts will break you one day.” He drank deeply from his flask. “I’ve seen it before—Blood Mages, Berserkers, even Blood Elves. Resist too long, and desire will drown reason.”
“Don’t worry. I won’t tell. You are, after all, my very first disciple.”
With a wry grin, Gehrman drew a dagger and slit his arm. Rich, heady blood dripped freely onto the bottle cap below.
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