The world shook.
A soundless light erupted, then—
BOOOOOOOMMMMMM!
The explosion tore through the clearing before the World Tree, devouring the air itself. The shockwave hurled bodies like leaves in a storm, shattering armor, bones, and the silence that had once blanketed the forest.
Sylthara's vision blurred white. Her ears rang, the world distant and muffled.
Instinct alone moved her body—she flung her arms wide, a barrier of mana shimmering around her as she tried to shield those closest to her.
But she was too late.
When the haze cleared, the gentle emerald of the forest was gone—replaced by a sea of crimson.
Hundreds of her kin lay strewn across the roots of the sacred tree. Silver armor shattered. Limbs twisted. Eyes wide open, staring blankly at the branches that no longer glowed. The scent of blood and burnt wood mixed with the air's mana, thick enough to choke on.
