Chapter 13 – The World Stirs
The bells rang at dawn.
Low, measured, and heavy enough to make even hardened soldiers pause.
Within the Sanctified City, people lifted their heads instinctively. Bells did not ring without reason. They were not sounded for common rifts or routine deaths. These bells carried weight—divine weight.
Something had gone wrong.
Inside a cathedral built from pale stone and etched prayers, priests gathered in silence. Candles flickered as if unsettled, their flames bending though no wind passed through the hall.
Faith could sense disruption.
The Churches had always claimed order in a broken world. Not as one unified body, but as many paths leading upward—to the Gods humanity relied upon for survival. Each Church walked beside a higher being, receiving blessings in exchange for devotion, obedience, and belief.
Some brought hope.
Some brought war.
Some watched quietly from the edges of life and death.
In a secluded chamber, far from the public halls, a robed figure stood before a basin of sanctified water. His reflection stared back at him—calm eyes, expression unreadable, soul steady as still air.
Ash-gray robes marked him unmistakably.
A priest of the Church of Soul.
A young deacon knelt behind him, voice low. "The report is confirmed. The rift collapsed inward. Three blessed individuals perished."
The priest's fingers paused above the basin.
"And the manner of death?" he asked.
"One soul was torn apart completely. Another was consumed as though swallowed whole. The third… fragmented." The deacon swallowed. "Unnaturally."
The priest closed his eyes.
Souls did not fragment unless something interfered.
"And the survivor?"
"No registered blessing. No divine resonance. No protection mark."
Silence stretched.
The priest opened his eyes again, calm never leaving them—but something colder surfaced beneath.
"There was an answer," he said quietly. "And something answered back."
The deacon's breath hitched.
"A Soul Priest is required?" he asked hesitantly.
"Yes."
The word was final.
Preparations began immediately.
Far above the city, storm sanctums hummed as the Church of Lightning took notice. Healers of the Water Church whispered uneasy prayers as records failed to align. Even the fire-clad warriors of the War Church felt the faintest itch beneath their blessings—an instinctive warning that something outside divine order had moved.
The Gods did not speak.
But they listened.
And so did those who ruled in their name.
Steel answered faith as it always did.
Few miles ahead ,Within a fortified command hall, a military officer placed a sealed report onto a heavy desk. The man seated behind it did not look up immediately.
General Arcturus Vale finished tightening the straps around his gauntlet before opening the document.
His expression darkened as he read.
"A Soul Priest?" he muttered.
"Yes, sir. The Churches requested cooperation."
Arcturus leaned back slowly. "Then this isn't just another rift."
"No, sir."
The general stared at the ceiling for a long moment.
"Prepare the academies," he finally said. "If something survived that shouldn't have… it'll surface eventually."
Orders spread like wildfire.
Recruitment notices were drafted. Age registries updated. Sixteen-year-olds across controlled territories were quietly marked.
The world did not wait for answers.
Alex felt none of this.
He sat beside Liora's bed as night settled over the Adventurer Guild, exhaustion weighing heavily on his shoulders. Her breathing was steady now, softer than before, but undeniably alive.
The healers had been confused.
"She shouldn't have stabilized so cleanly," one had whispered earlier. "It's like something's holding her together."
Alex didn't understand that.
He only knew she was here.
Her fingers twitched slightly in her sleep, brushing against his sleeve, and his chest tightened.
He didn't know that eyes far beyond the city had already turned in his direction.
Didn't know that prayers, reports, and sealed orders now revolved around a single ruined battlefield.
Didn't know that something ancient rested quietly inside him, patient and unseen.
Far away, a Soul Priest prepared to descend into the ruins.
And when he arrived, the world would begin to ask questions it wasn't ready to answer.