Doom had descended upon the White City.
And Nyros… was the only one left to hold it back.
Behind him, Liseria remained still—kneeling, focused, her hands trembling slightly as she prepared something he didn't understand. Something secret. Something dangerous.
But in front of him?
Hell.
A tide of monsters, corrupted beyond reason, surged from every street, alley, and rooftop. The beings had once been human, merchants, guards, elders, bloodline holders, even children. But now… they were twisted abominations. Their bodies bloated and deformed, their flesh blistered and split. Black horns curled from their skulls. Their eyes radiated a single, maddened will:
Destruction.
The strength of these creatures varied.
If the infected had been ordinary humans, their power was that of the Second Stage at most. Still dangerous, but manageable.
But if the corrupted had once possessed awakened bloodlines…
Then their power often matched their original strength, or worse… exceeded it.
