[The Sacristy of the Fire Cathedral]
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Benedict watched the last of the evacuees disappear into the dark maw of the tunnel, guided by the silent, masked members of the Holy Scripture of Dust.
The heavy iron blast doors slammed shut. The golden magical seals engaged, locking into place with a deafening, final clack that echoed off the vaulted ceiling of the sacristy.
For a long moment, Benedict simply stood there. Through the massive stone walls of the Cathedral of Fire, she could still feel the faint, rhythmic vibrations of the siege above. Muffled explosions. The collapse of ancient masonry. The dying screams of a city that had stood for six hundred years, now being unmade in a single night.
She leaned against the cool red stone of the dais, allowing herself a rare, private moment of bitter exhaustion. A part of her was deeply dissatisfied with the people who had just passed through those doors. They had wept over abandoned country estates, frantically clutching their velvet coats, ledgers, and heavy coin purses while the outer city burned to ash around them. They were materialistic, terrified, arrogant, and entirely unqualified to carry the holy mandate of humanity's survival.
But they carry the blood, she reminded herself, forcing her breathing to steady. Generations of potent bloodlines and rare Talents. As long as the blood survives, the Theocracy survives.
She closed her eyes, listening to the distant, rhythmic thud of artillery spells pounding the cathedral's outer shields.
The adults may be flawed, petty creatures. But we will raise their children in the Sanctuary. Their grandchildren will be isolated from this worldly greed, taught proper behavior, the true faith of the Six, and the holy scriptures from birth.
(The impure wood burns away; the seed remains)
"Eminence."
Benedict turned. High Priest Matheus stood by the tunnel entrance. He was a man she had known since their youth, but tonight, his face was gray with ash, sweat, and a profound sadness
He was an old friend, a man she had known since their acolyte days
"The evacuation is proceeding," Matheus reported, his voice devoid of its usual ecclesiastical warmth. "The first group has cleared the perimeter wards. But the reports from the Middle City..."
"Yes"
"The green fog."
"It is worse than the fog. A runner from the Windflower Scripture collapsed in the nave just moments ago. The enemy has breached the Middle Gate. They are using the dead."
Benedict took the ruined, blood-smeared parchment Matheus held out to her, her eyes scanning the frantic numbers.
"Thousands of them," Matheus continued, a tremor entering his voice. "Not just mindless thralls. Organized legions. The runner saw necromancers walking safely within the green mist, raising our own fallen soldiers as quickly as they drop. Men I broke bread with yesterday... men who were defending the wall an hour ago... are now turning their spears on the Inner Gate. They are climbing the masonry on the backs of our own rotting dead."
"It is a violation of the cycle," Benedict said, crushing the parchment in her fist. "A mockery of life itself."
"It is the Sorcerer Kingdom," Matheus said. "Who else could it be? Only the Sorcerer King would unleash such horrors. Poison gas that melts the lungs. Necromancy on this scale. He isn't waging war, Benedict. He isn't seeking our surrender. He is exterminating us."
"It is Ainz Ooal Gown. The Enemy of the World."
"But why?" Matheus slammed his fist against the ancient stone wall. "We stayed neutral during his war with the Re-Estize Kingdom! We pulled back our forces! We sent envoys of peace, we offered concessions! Why destroy us like this? What did we do to warrant absolute annihilation?"
"He is a Player, Matheus."
Benedict walked down the steps of the dais, her crimson robes whispering against the stone.
"You expect him to possess human morality, or human political ambition. But he sees this world as a game board. We are not people to him. Or even a rival nation. We are simply pieces. Obstacles to be removed, or resources to be harvested. He does not wage war out of anger. He wages war to optimize his position."
She stopped in front of him, locking eyes with the High Priest.
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