"Mana poisoning." The healer's voice was grim. "Since the start of this attack, mana has been leaking from the dungeon, growing thicker and thicker up here. But it finally reached the tipping point last night."

Wyn nodded, keeping calm. Corrin had told him about his own experience with mana poisoning in the founder's tomb. In his case, it had gotten worse with time, but the symptoms didn't seem quite the same. Around the guild, refugees were fighting headaches and fatigue, and almost all of the children had collapsed entirely, growing feverish. Compared to Corrin's intermittent chest pains, it seemed quite different.

"Mana poisoning can present differently depending on the individual," The healer explained. "Chest pains like you're describing are rare, but not unheard of for individuals with abnormally high aura. It's something like backlash."

"I see. In the case of the people here, how long until it becomes fatal?"

"Difficult to say. Children are disproportionately affected because their aura is less developed than an adult's. If it keeps up at this rate, maybe twelve hours? Though there will be long-term consequences before then. Under ideal circumstances, I'd suggest we start evacuating the city immediately."

Beside him, Sadirah stiffened.

Wyn remembered something Eryndor had said days prior—that the spirit tree fed on the dungeon's mana, keeping it depowered. Though the mana had started leaking up en masse when Sloth had appeared, he suspected that the weakening of the tree was preventing it from checking the dungeon's output.

It's all right, he thought, clenching a fist. I have more than enough time. And what I have to do is the same either way.

He bent down, grabbing a child's hand and cleansing him with spirit fire. It wouldn't do much in the grand scheme of things, but it made him feel a little better anyways. Perhaps that was self-centered of him.

To his surprise though, he felt almost no strain at all. His blessing felt stronger than it had before, like the flames had gotten more effective. Was it the result of his bond with Haoma? How did that work?

He couldn't help but glance at Sadirah, thinking of the Withering that infected her siblings. As he was now, how would it feel to cleanse something like that? He'd been resolved to do it before, but with this new power, he could easily double or even triple the rate.

He thought about saying something, but he kept it to himself for the time being.

Patting the boy on the head, he set off to speak with the guildmistress, Sadirah following close behind. He needn't have bothered though, because as he approached, there was a great commotion at the entrance of the infirmary.

"Eldress please!" A healer backed out through the door, holding his hands out placatingly. "You have to rest!"

"Oh rest be damned!" A familiar voice yelled back. Guildmistress Shani pushed her way through the gap, ignoring the two other healers trying to pull her back. "This city's in an emergency we haven't seen since the war, and you want me to rest? It's only an arm! Three limbs is enough for anybody!"

Her eyes scanned the area and found Wyn quickly, honing in. "Ah, there you are! I got the all clear from the healers, I'm ready to fight!"

Wyn glanced at the protesting healers trying to drag her back in.

"Ignore them!"

After a moment, he shrugged. "Some things have changed. Let me catch you up to speed."

***

"You're right," the guildmistress said as he finished explaining. "That woman sounds suspicious. Are you sure we can trust her?"

Wyn shook his head. "Not at all, but while we were talking, I got confirmation—the northern entrance has collapsed. And also, Sloth has been left alone in the west."

"Well, I won't complain too much then. It wouldn't be the first time I've had to work with shady characters. In any case, the question is what we do from here."

"I've been thinking about that," Wyn said. "And I have a plan. I could use your help."

"Let's hear it."

"With both entrances collapsed, they're relying on the monsters summoned by their mages. From what we've seen, that's a much smaller number. On the other hand, their acolyte of Sloth can call them at a rate similar to an entrance on his own."

Shani nodded. "So, you're proposing we target him next?"

"I'll handle Sloth on my own."

"By yourself?" She raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure you can handle it?"

Wyn looked at his hand, flexing his fingers slowly as he took stock of his new spirit fire. That wasn't all either. He'd gotten something else from his bond with the spirit tree as well.

"Yeah, I can."

She eyed him for a moment. "If you say so. Where do the rest of us fit in here?"

"Ending Sloth doesn't mean much if we don't take advantage. We need to prepare the city for evacuation in case of the worst. To do that, we need more manpower." Wyn gnawed at his knuckles thoughtfully. "I'm just not sure if we have enough here."

"With mana poisoning this widespread, the time for playing things safe is over. I'll get you the manpower you need." The guildmistress held up two fingers. "We've got two forces almost completely untouched, remember?"

Wyn put it together—the eastern and southern dungeon entrances would have sizable adventurer forces of their own, though from what he remembered, they were under sieges of their own.

"Then just before sunrise, after I defeat Sloth, you take the adventurers here to free the eastern and southern entrances. If you can, help at the Kaelburn estate too."

"Are you sure you can handle Sloth on your own?"

"Sloth's not what worries me…" Wyn could see where the wind was blowing. Even if they managed to stop the cult, there was still the poisoning of the tree to deal with. He was under no illusion that he wouldn't be involved. But even as strong as he felt, the poison would be unlike anything he'd encountered. If he couldn't handle it, then they'd have to evacuate the entire city regardless. "If things go south, I'm trusting you to get everyone out of Liresil."

The guildmistress clapped him on the shoulder, but didn't say anything more before pushing herself to her feet. "Well, in that case, I'd better start getting ready myself. I'll whip these troops into shape before sunrise. But Wyn, only think about your own victory, okay?"

She held out her one arm. Wyn looked at as he stood up as well. He clasped it firmly.

"I will."

***

Wyn prepared to set out thirty minutes before sunrise. Though the sky should have begun lightening by then, the clouds above kept it dark, letting out a final weak drizzle as they slowly petered out.

He tightened the straps on his leather armor, then pulled his cloak over the top, glancing towards the gate of the guild where the adventurers had begun to gather. Soon, they'd be surging out and fighting, trusting that he'd finished off Sloth in that time.

It was strange—he should have been nervous, seeing the men and women gathered in the hopes he would be victorious, but instead he only felt a sense of calm. He knew what he needed to do, and he knew he could do it. If he had any unease, it was for the things that came after.

"Wyn." He turned to see Sadirah approaching him, a resolved look in her eyes.

"What is it?"

"You're going west to fight, isn't that right?"

He took it back, he felt a little nervous. "I am."

She stood uncertainly for a moment, then tapped her cheeks twice, her eyes gaining resolve. "Take me with you."

Wyn sighed. "You know why I can't."

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"I know," she said. "And I'm asking anyway. Or rather, I'm saying I'm going whether you want me to or not."

He winced. "Sadirah, have you not seen what's going on out there? I promised I'd help your siblings, and I mean to keep that promise. But while I'm fighting Sloth, I can't keep you safe."

She tapped her foot against the ground, cracking it.

It caught Wyn off-guard, though he knew it shouldn't. Whatever had been holding back the power inside her was weakening. Though she didn't leak large amounts of aura like she did while asleep, he had a feeling that her body was still a deep well.

"Even still," he said, "having raw power isn't the same as being able to fight, trust me. You'll be safer here. Just wait for me to—"

"I'm not going to wait around anymore!" Emotion burst out of her like water from a dam, and Wyn took a step back. "I'm so sick and tired of waiting and waiting and waiting! Waiting and hoping someone else will handle my problems, or pretending they'll get better on their own, or wishing I didn't have them! My whole life, that's all I've ever done!"

She took a moment to catch her breath. "If it was your brother—if it was Elry, and you knew you had the power to help him, would you wait Wyn? They're waiting for me to come. I know they are. I can't just sit here and do nothing again!"

Wyn winced. That hit really close to home. Still, it was a bad idea. He felt it in his gut, a sense of unease. If he took her with him, something bad would happen, though he couldn't explain why or how. He didn't want to take her. No one should have to be in danger but him—wasn't that obvious?

She set herself and looked him in the eye. "If you won't take me, then I'll go myself. I really appreciate everything you've done, but you're not my minder either."

He stared at her for a moment, then rubbed his face in frustration. Could he find a way to make her stay? He thought of a hundred arguments he could make—good ones even—but in the end, each just sounded more hypocritical than the last.

"You're right," he finally admitted, gritting his teeth. "If it was me, I couldn't wait."

Sadirah sighed, touching a hand to her chest, like she'd been nervous about his answer.

"I won't let you go alone though." He shook his head. "You can come with me, and I'll take you to them after I deal with Sloth. But you have to promise me you'll stay out of the fighting."

She smiled in relief. "Thank you Wyn."

He looked up into the rain, not wanting to meet her eyes. "We should get going. The sun will be up soon."

With a slight nod towards the guildmistress, his mission began.

Sadirah followed him as he walked towards the edge of the wall, making his way back towards the trunk, away from the main gate.

"Wyn? Isn't this the wrong way?"

"Not at all. We have to be clandestine, don't we?" He allowed himself a smile as he glanced back at her confused face.

They reached the point where the wall intersected against the base. Haoma's trunk wasn't like a normal tree's though. It was a twisting, gnarled mass of roots and plates of bark. Their density served as a wall, but he suspected something like a mouse could still sneak through.

Wyn couldn't shrink, unfortunately. But luckily, he didn't need to.

He reached a hand out, and pressed it against the bulwark of roots and wood. Slowly, the mess parted, leaving a small pathway for them to walk through.

Sadirah gasped. "How did you…?"

"Let's just say I picked up a new trick." He held a finger to his lips, making a hushing sign. In truth, he was glad it had worked like he'd hoped. It made things easier.

They passed underneath the tunnel and out the other side, a whole street over from where they'd begun. Wyn closed the path behind them, and started walking westward.

He stoked the spirit fire in his chest, and it burned hotter.

***

Thestor Lysenthos, an acolyte of Sloth, one of the longest-living members of the church of the old god, awoke from his nap as he felt a dozen of his monsters vanish in an instant. He sat up in the arm chair, glancing around the room where he'd been resting.

The western dungeon district was mostly untouched, save for what had been destroyed in the brief battle with the adventurers that had come the day before. Adventurers tended to be wealthy—successful ones at least, and so the inn located right by the dungeon was actually pretty luxurious. It hadn't been hard to find a nice bed for the night.

It could be good for my back, he mused. I'm sure no one would notice if a single bed went missing in all the chaos. Or maybe I'll just have a glaiveripper smash the place up. Less suspicious that way.

He glanced out the window where the slightest hints of daylight touched the horizon. It was almost time for Vaeril to do his work. Good. The whole siege business was frankly troublesome. If it hadn't been for that damned spirit knight spooking the doctor…

"A peaceful life, that's all I asked," he grumbled.

Unfortunately, the nature of his skills made him too useful in a situation like this. The church was more than able to field strong individuals—but the numbers necessary to siege a city were a different story. At the very least they left him alone, as he preferred. He'd had to put up with Vaeril's brat for as long as he could be bothered, but it seemed the boy had left sometime during his nap.

He didn't need others anyways. Thestor was an army all on his own. Unlike a normal disciple, he was able to sense the monsters under his command, forming and maintaining a faint bond with each one. He'd served Possession in his youth, and had worked entirely too hard to develop that ability.

He shook his head, remembering why he'd woken up. The group he'd sensed had perished abruptly, but they were far from his location. It was nothing to worry about. Having reached the easy judgment, he yawned, stretched, and laid back down, closing his eyes and—

Another four vanished from his senses.

He sat back up, now fully awake. These monsters were closer.

Another died, and another.

What could be killing them so quickly? They were dying by the dozen, tracing a path from the guild towards his location. Had the adventurers rallied again? No, the monsters he'd sent towards the guild were still mostly alive. Then what?

He filled with a faint malaise as he rose out of bed.

More monsters died as something came his way. No, it must be someone. The spirit knight? The lessers had dealt with him though, he should be dead. And if not, surely there were bigger issues at hand. Callithea was still in the north, the entrance intact! If they were coming here, then their target wouldn't be the entrance—it would be him.

Thestor pulled on his outer robe, searching frantically for his loom in the dark. He tripped over his own shoe and cursed as his palms smacked against the wooden floor. Finally his fingers curled around the ivory staff, and hefted himself back up, heading out the doorway.

He began to chant as he exited the inn, calling on the fragments of god from below. Should he flee? Or stay and fight? Either option seemed a pain, but if they had a way to track him, running would only weaken his position. No, whoever came, they would break against his hordes.

He hurried towards the entrance of the district, where the gate had been blasted open by the last attackers. If he somehow was facing a large group, then he'd use the chokepoint to his advantage.

As he continued chanting, the ground cracked open and his power arose, countless beasts gnashing at the air as he whipped them into a frenzy. They would be his shock forces—disposable bodies to soften up his enemy as he dragged monsters up from deeper below.

Flying monsters stationed themselves in the air above, and burrowing monsters dug into waiting below. More monsters died. He felt each one, using them to track his foe's approach.

Come on then.

Finally he saw them. Through the gap in the wall, deep within the rain, a flickering purple light came into view. Even amidst the snarling monsters, Thestor could hear steady footsteps splashing through a puddle as the figure approached.

A lone young man stepped through, wearing simple gray robes filled out by broad shoulders and a tall frame. At his side was a single blade, alight with ghostly purple flames despite the rain. Though the young man seemed calm, the flames raged like a caged wildfire.

Thestor vaguely remembered a boy from the eastern market with flames like that, but they hadn't seemed nearly so intense.

Lavender flames… he frowned. Something about that seemed so familiar, and it itched at the back of his mind. Where have I heard about that before?

With a simple thought, one of the nearest monsters lunged, and was immediately purged in a flash of purple light.

Thestor flinched back. He hadn't given it much thought the last time, but what were those flames?

The young man looked around disdainfully, his eyes burning in the dark. At his feet, roots broke up out of the ground, lashing out and smashing a nearby monster flat.

Thestor's eyes narrowed. Those aren't constructs. A spell then? But I didn't see him cast anything. No, in this city, those roots mean only one thing. Damn it, but how?

"Just, who are you?" He asked, lifting his staff.

"Let me ask you a question," the young man said in response, his voice calm. "Do you have a family? No, that's wrong… do you have anyone you love?"

Thestor hesitated for a moment, though he wasn't really bothered. It was just a strange question. "What does it matter to you?"

"Just answer the question."

He let out a sigh. "I have a daughter, and a grandson."

"You're swaying. So you're a local. Where are they now?"

Thestor scratched the back of his head, moderately annoyed at the sudden interrogation. Still, talking was better than fighting. "I sent them away from the city before the attack began. Told them the eclipse was better viewed from a small town nearby."

He'd done his best to steer monsters away from their shop too, but he didn't say that.

The young man's flames seemed to burn even brighter in that moment, and his face became a mask of rage.

"Of course…" he laughed once, despite his apparent anger. "I thought that would help me see you as something else. But looking at you now, I'm more disgusted than ever. You're even lower than these monsters you've summoned."

Thestor's eyes narrowed. "Your opinion means nothing to me."

"It will."

The young man raised his blade, pointing the tip past the throng, as though they were nothing. "I wonder, Acolyte of Sloth. Do you think this is enough to save yourself from me?"

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