Chapter 18: The First Scourge

The sanctum pulsed with cold light as Aria paced its endless halls. A week had passed since the envoy's defeat, since the warning that the Unseen would send more. She had no time for doubts. Every moment was dedicated to sharpening her art of torment.

Chains clinked and snapped in her hands, summoned from the very essence of suffering itself. Torture devices, twisted and unholy, floated around her like dark constellations — some old, some forged anew in the depths of her mana pool.

Ren watched silently, his eyes flickering with a mix of awe and dread. He saw the transformation in her—no longer the girl who once sought answers, but a force bent on inflicting pain with ruthless precision.

Aria’s voice cut through the stillness. “The crucible of agony is my forge. Every scream, every tear, every broken bone adds to my strength. The Entity awaits at the summit, but first I must burn away this world’s weakness.”

Ren swallowed hard. “You’ve changed. This obsession... it’s like you’re becoming something else.”

She shot him a cold smile. “I am what must be. Weakness has no place in what’s to come.”

Outside the sanctum, beneath the cold dawn, the first country awaited.

In the small village of Liora, children played in the streets as morning light spilled over worn rooftops. Farmers prepared for the harvest, and merchants opened their stalls. Life was simple, fragile.

Then the earth trembled.

From the cracked soil, iron chains erupted like serpents, writhing and binding every living creature. Screams shattered the calm as people were yanked to the ground, immobilized by invisible strength.

Elders, men, women, and children—all chained to the ground.

The sky darkened, a shadow folding over the land as a figure appeared—Aria, radiant and terrible.

Her voice echoed, cold and final. “Your suffering is mine to command.”

Thousands of steel instruments rose from the earth, gleaming cruelly in the dim light. The air filled with the metallic scent of blood and fear.

Families were ripped apart, streets were strewn with entrails, skin flayed under her merciless gaze. Minds shattered under waves of mental torment, memories twisted into nightmares.

In every village, every city, the people could only watch, helpless.

At a burnt-out tavern, a young woman named Mara clung to her brother’s shaking hand. “Why... why is this happening?”

Her brother’s eyes were wide, haunted. “I don’t know. It’s like the world is dying.”

Mara whispered a prayer, not for salvation, but for the strength to endure.

As the screams multiplied, the armies of the world scrambled to respond. Messages crackled over radios, commands given and ignored as panic spread like wildfire.

But no weapon could touch her.

Aria’s laughter rang out, a cruel symphony across the tortured land.

The first scourge had begun.