The air split with a deafening crack, and the world turned to chaos.

The roof above trembled violently, sending cascades of dust and fragments of stone raining down. A moment later, the lights flickered momentarily but eventually the crimson glow vanished, leaving only the afterimage of their eerie light seared into my vision.

I staggered, instinctively dropping to a crouch behind one of the cases that showed a painting of a war.

A thick, acrid smell invaded my lungs, burning my throat and making my eyes water. I immediately used a spell to filter the contents of what I inhaled making sure nothing was damaging me.

A pain rushed through my head, a confirmation of the spell being used.

Screams erupted around me.

The visitors and Acolytes stumbled blindly, their solemn procession shattered. Some clawed at their throats, collapsing to the ground as the gas enveloped them. Others fled in disarray however the priest had immediately started to counter the smoke that had begun to pile up.

I forced myself to move, keeping low as I darted toward the edge of the hall. My heart hammered in my chest, each beat a reminder of how exposed I was. The gas was spreading fast, rolling through the space like a living thing, consuming everything in its path.

Somewhere nearby, I heard a voice bellowing commands—sharp, authoritative, cutting through the chaos like a blade. “Secure the relics!" It was Resha.

However those words made me pause? They knew that there was a chance to be attacked? The church hired my services. Yet why weren't their important people told? Why did Orvox not inform them about me? Why did they display the ring which is so important if they knew of the attack.

Dread coiled in my stomach as my mind raced through the implications. None of this added up. The church was meticulous, secretive, and paranoid to a fault. If Resha knew there was a chance of an attack, then why was the security so... performative? Why weren’t the Acolytes better prepared? And why was I—their so-called contingency—kept in the dark?

I clenched my jaw, shoving those questions aside for the moment. Answers wouldn’t mean much if I was dead.

The edges of the hall were clearer, the gas less concentrated here, but I could still hear the coughs and choking sounds from the others.

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

I pressed myself against one of the cold stone pillars, straining my ears for more. Resha’s voice was distant now, drowned out by the growing roar of panic. A faint vibration in the air prickled against my skin, familiar and ominous. Someone was casting—no, multiple people were casting.

Seriously why was Cedric going so overkill in his attack. This was a sure fire way that he would get officials truly on his case. Damn it.

I forced myself to stand and run towards the center. My senses were high on alert as screams sounded around me.

A man in tactical gear lunged at me, his spell forming mid-air, but I countered swiftly, "Yield to slumber." muttering the incantation to put him to sleep. He crumpled to the ground, and I pressed on, my focus narrowing as I neared the altar.

My heart pounded as I leaped over a fallen statue and slid to cover behind a broken column. Another pair of attackers ran towards me saying something in a foreign language.

The air shimmered as a bolt of lightning sizzled toward me. I raised my hand and shouted, "Bastion!" A translucent shield shimmered into existence just in time to absorb the strike, but the effort sent a spike of pain lancing through my skull. I gritted my teeth, forcing the dizziness to subside as my shield flickered out.

Without waiting for them to reply I instantly sent a arc of lightning shit towards both attackers

The arc of lightning crackled through the air, splitting into two jagged tendrils as it reached the attackers. They barely had time to react. One screamed, convulsing as the surge struck him, while the other managed to erect a hasty barrier. The lightning shattered the shield, though, and sent him staggering back, smoke rising from his armor.

I didn’t wait to see if they were down for good. The momentary reprieve gave me enough time to dash forward, weaving between fallen debris and still-writhing bodies.

Finally, I reached the altar, panting as I crouched low. My fingers extended cautiously toward the glowing ring, and the moment they passed through it, I knew.

Nothing. No weight, no texture—just light and air.

A hologram.

The realization clicked into place with stunning clarity, and I nearly laughed at the sheer audacity of it all. The church had never put the ring here. Of course, they wouldn’t. No one was foolish enough to display something so valuable and dangerous so openly.

But then why the spectacle?

The answer came as a second wave of clarity, this one sharp and almost painful. This wasn’t just a trap for Cedric—it was a game of misdirection, designed to fool him and everyone else. The church had made it public knowledge that the ring was here, but in truth, it had to be locked away in the deeper vaults beneath their main sanctum. And Cedric, clever as ever, had seen through the charade—or at least part of it.

This attack wasn’t about the ring in the hall. It was a distraction. A smokescreen.

Cedric’s real target was the vaults. He would try to lead the main force here and take his powerful warriors with him.

I leaned back against the altar, catching my breath as the implications settled over me. Tricked. Played. Thoroughly outmaneuvered by both sides.

For a brief moment, I considered leaving—washing my hands of this mess entirely. But no. The thought ignited a spark of anger in my chest. They wanted to use me as a pawn? Fine. But I’d be the one flipping the board.

The vaults. That’s where I needed to be.