The bells rang at noon.
Not in celebration.
Not in mourning.
But in command.
Their deep, reverberating toll rolled across the Holy Kingdom of Solaria like an unavoidable decree, echoing through alabaster streets, over golden rooftops, and into the hearts of tens of thousands who had gathered beneath the open sky.
The day of execution had come.
The plaza before the Grand Cathedral had been transformed.
Where once pilgrims gathered to pray, now rose a towering scaffold of white stone and gold-inlaid iron, elevated above the crowd so that none could miss what was about to happen. Runes of purification glowed faintly along its base, etched with divine authority. Thick chains hung from its central pillar, each link engraved with holy scripture meant to suppress magic, will, and resistance.
At the very back of the platform loomed the statue of the Goddess.
