Steel blades clinked at their sides as Damian and Lyra dashed through the city streets. Above them, the sky was no longer blue as a dark veil had crept across the heavens, causing the shadows to fade from the ground.
By now, the moon had already almost completely devoured the sun. Only a thin, eerie halo of light remained — a small dying crescent of flame shining in he sky.
"Young master…" Lyra called out from behind, her breath hitching slightly. "Where are we going?"
"We're going to stop the summoning."
She blinked, a little confused, as they cut into an alley, dodging barrels and slipping past startled citizens, looking skyward in awe.
"But… aren't we going the wrong way? I mean… you said those rituals usually happen in places with high divine concentration, right?"
"Yeah."
They turned again, sticking to the empty alleys while maintaining their speed as they continued running.
"But young master…" Lyra persisted, "...The church is in the opposite direction."
"...But it's drenched in holy mana, one of the two forms of divine mana." Damian cut in.
"…Holy mana?" she asked.
"Exactly." He nodded. "To summon a corrupt being, they'd need to find a place that either resonates with dark mana, the other form of divine energy that the cultists worship, or—"
"…Or a location with neutral divine concentration," Lyra finished, her tone sharper now. "Not too pure, and not too twisted either."
"Right again." He smiled, but unknowingly to them, high up in the sky, the sun and the moon had already formed a complete ring of light, perfecting the eclipse once and for all.
"...And the only place like that in Edelgard is just around this corner…"
FWOOOSH!
As they turned, column of bright violet light erupted high into the sky, high enough for everyone in the city to see. It pierced into the heavens like a divine spear, shimmering with twisted necrotic energy, then it quickly faded, absorbed into the thick clouds hovering over the city.
Trying to catch his breath, he furrowed his brows and stared intently at their goal. "Its... It's the Hall of Divinity."
Lyra's eyes widened. "That place?... But why? I thought the Church managed this place?"
"Only on the surface," Damian growled, his eyes fixed ahead. "This hall was built to preserve the image of all the gods, not just the holy ones. The church only manages it to show respect and preserve it"
He clenched his fists hard, watching as a magic circle completed itself just above the grand building before them.
Before them stood a vast courtyard with a large ornate structure standing tall within its grounds. It's large grand spires rose more than just a few meters into the sky — each bearing a symbol of a different greater god.
The massive courtyard leading up to the entrance was lined with rows of carefully crafted statues.
Up above the hall stood a colossal magic circle spinning slowly in the air glowing in an eerily but faint violet hue while humming with immense magic power.
"Damn it," he cursed. "It's already started…"A gust of wind swept through the alley, chilling their skin despite the warm summer air. As the last sliver of sunlight had already long since disappeared behind the blackened moon.
"Then that means the cult is already inside... chanting," Lyra stated, dread seeping into her voice, "...what do we do?"
Damian slowed, placing a hand to his chin, then exhaled.
"We keep moving forward, we can't afford to let the summoning be completed."
"How? There'll be guards in there,… mages even."
Another gust breezed past them, and this time, it carried with it the echoes of mages chanting strange words in perfect unison.
Lyra's ears twitched. "...That's coming from the hall right?."
Damian's hand tightened around his sword. "Let's go," he said with a soft grin. "As long as we have each other — we're unstoppable."
"Alright..." She replied, perfectly confident in her master's confidence.
No sooner had they begun sprinting again than the massive double doors of the Hall creaked open, groaning under the weight of the doors..
Out from the shadows stepped two figures.
But both were adorned in tattered black robes, their faces partially obscured beneath their hoods. But each bore the crimson insignia of a horned demon, An unmistakable mark of the reverred Abyssal Cult.