Autumn passed in the blink of an eye and during that time, Viers didn’t contact Farley even once. He trained as usual, in the cult base and in the Training Center. He sometimes made trips outside the town to do who knows what, but only that; he came back that same day or the day after, nothing dramatic or unusual because he used completing the guild’s quest as a cover.

Feeling anxious because Viers didn’t tell her about his plan, didn’t give her direction or orders, Farley approached him seeking guidance. She had sworn to give him everything and it wasn’t false! And yet, Viers didn’t show any movement.

“Just do whatever you gotta do.”

Viers said that to Farley and continue to treat her as if she didn’t exist. The cult was very quiet during the last months, the higher-ups instructed the cultists to prepare as best as they can for a major operation mid-winter.

Time wait for no one and winter came. Farley felt the chilly weather heralded her death and began to lose hope.

As the big day approaches, the signs began to show. Operatives moved stealthily, acquiring information about important sites and prime targets, lowered price for Arte and combat-related things, all indicated the big day would soon be upon them.

While the grunt cultists were kept in the dark about the exact time, because of Farley, Viers knew one week before. It would be at the winter solstice, just like Farley’s mother prophesized. Viers left Farley a few instructions that day then did nothing more.

The very next day, Viers had disappeared.

The happening was very sudden and absolute, as if he vanished into thin air. He slept at the dorm as usual then no one saw him the morning after. His room was untouched, his belongings were all still there. Only the man himself gone. No one saw him leave, no one heard anything either. Naturally, Viers didn’t come to class in the coming days. Everyone at the Training Center was confused.

While keeping his position hidden, Farley got a telepathy message from Viers. Assuring her this was all part of the plan. He instructed her to make Benjamin drink the Red Fairy he specifically left at his room at the cult base if possible then return back to radio silence.

Farley immediately suspected poison but she didn’t complain. During the family dinner a few days later, she used the bottle and share it with the rest of her family. Except for Gwen, they all drank the wine. Farley also put the suspected poisoned wine into her body to prevent suspicions. She thought it would be worth it if she died but her father died too. Alas, nothing happened. Viers contacted her again that night to ask confirmation and disappeared again. Farley had no idea where he was.

Tomorrow was the day she would die and her sole hope left her.

***

It was morning, the snowfall last night covered Luxore town with a thin blanket of frost. The townsfolk started to preparing each of their daily business in this sleepy morning. Unbeknownst to them, the cultists of Dumuzin were out in force, scattered throughout the town. They didn’t wear their mask; they traveled in plain sight, making their way to the designated points. Some of them greeted the people they knew along the way, just like on a leisure stroll.

“It’s here,” a cultist spoke.

“Yep, no mistake. Now we wait for the signal. Wanna grab some chow?” Another cultist beside him spoke.

“I’ll pass, concentrate buddy. The top-brass promised us sky-high rewards for our contributions this time. We might have enough resources to rise to level 2 after today.” The first cultist dreamed about his future.

***

Near the town’s plaza, stood the tallest structure in Luxore town, the bell tower. Most people didn’t know that the tower was actually capable of erecting a mighty barrier protecting the whole town.

In the bell tower’s basement, a secret room for controlling said barrier exists. Currently, three masked cultists walked inside the heavily protected and hidden secret location like they owned the place.

“Infiltrating the security array was easier than I thought,” Bernard spoke.

“This tower was built half a century ago and never used even once. Other than the mayor, few knew this place is here. Their hope of keeping this hidden was futile from the start, for our Styra family helped building it all those years ago.” Monica looked around the place.

“Now, this tower shall serve the Cult of Dumuzin’s purpose. Let the festival begin,” August activated an orb on the wall and the tower lit up with Mana.

***

Most cultists were position in various places inside the town but there were some who were positioned in the town’s edge. At each of the eight directions, a group of cultists were preparing a specific ritual. Every single one of them was hidden inside a humble house, built inconspicuously. Nobody, even their neighbors suspected a sinister ritual was being conducted.

Inside the houses, there was a magic circle, pulsating with red light. In the center of the circle, was a jar. The jar was ordinary but the contents were not. It was a corpse of a baby, drowned in black liquid. There were similar things in every house.

One of the cultists was near a window, keeping an eye out on his surroundings. Suddenly, the sky was filled with a transparent layer. It was the town’s protection barrier.

“Vice-leader August did it. Now we must do our part. Start the Demonic Soul Isolation Arte!”

Eight towers of red light rose to the sky, meeting the town’s barrier. The originally transparent layer was swiftly dyed black with a touch of burgundy. The light from the sun was powerless to penetrate the blackened dome. In less than ten seconds the town was covered with an eerie and ominous atmosphere. The fresh and crisp morning was nowhere to be found. It was as if night had descended, many people had premonitions of something bad was coming.

***

“Mayor Sabarin! Emergency!!”

A town official, Walt, broke into the mayor’s office with the panic of a man finding his house on fire.

Walt found the mayor grimly looking outside of the window.

“Contact head priest Ativan immediately, he has my permission to do whatever he thought necessary. The town guards are to immediately instruct the civilians to stay at their homes while helping the church. Also contact the guild master of adventurer’s guild, he-”

Walt cut the mayor off. “Intruders! A dozen cultists are attacking here!! We must leave!” His terror showed in his eyes.

“What!? Have-”

Mayor Sabarin was interrupted a second time, a person came in by breaking through the office’s window, which was located on the third floor. A masked man, holding a frightening ball of condensed lighting in his hand.

“Greetings, mayor Sabarin. Our gratitude for your hard work all these years. Here’s a token of appreciation from the Cult of Dumuzin.”

August threw the crackling lightning ball to the mayor. He was level 2 while Sabarin was level 1. August wasn’t holding back and the lighting ball exploded with thunderous might, destroying the office instantly.

***

The sky above Luxore town became reddish black. All the townsfolk was confused about what was going on.

“Mama, mama, the sun ran away,” a child tugging his mother’s hand.

Like the mother and child, quite many people went out outside of their house. With confusion in their heads, they want to know what was happening, conversing with their neighbors and the like.

In their anxiousness, a roar plunged them to a deeper pit. A monster emerged, a three meters muscular humanoid, shark-like teeth and two lizard tails, traces of ripped clothes remained on its body.

Screams accompanied the Ghoul who seemingly came out from thin air. The nearby people ran to the opposite direction in a panic stampede, and they were right to be afraid. After completing its transformation, the Ghoul immediately chomped on the head of a nearby man, creating another song of horror and dread.

***

“Fireball! Hahahaha, this must be the easiest job ever!” A cultist gleefully launched a ball of fire on a group of people, civilians.

Twenty-four Ghouls were unleashed inside Luxore town. These were people who didn’t go berserk after their ghoulification; they remained human until they were ordered to shed their human form. The cult controlled them, some were put in the main base and some remained on the surface. Today, all the Ghouls the cult gathered throughout the years were set loose to prey on the townsfolk.

The Ghouls were strong, most of them had the power of level 1 Path-seekers. There were five level 2 Ghouls among them, accumulation of Styra family's over the years. Ghouls had thick skin and famously hard to kill, although their attack power wasn’t very deadly, about three level 1 path-seekers would be needed to keep a level 1 Ghoul in check.

In less than five minutes, strategically placed twenty-four Ghouls were rampaging in various parts of Luxore town. Some Ghouls already had a kill count seconds after their transformation.

To escalate the situation, the cultist fought alongside the Ghouls. Chaos, massacre, corpses, tragedies, blood.

“Stop!” A man with a dog mask prevented the cultist next to him launching more fireballs.

“Aaahn? What’s your problem Wesk?”

“There’s no meaning of this… this genocide!”

“The hell? You found your conscience just now or something? Didn’t you kill a lot of innocent people in the past? It's too late for regrets you moron.” The cultist mocked in a condescending tone.

The words stabbed him in the heart. Wesk had killed people before, he had killed innocents before, but not something on this scale. Fires rising in many places, screams of pain and desperation and panic accompanied a Ghoul’s every step, then he and other cultists fanned the embers of conflict.

“I…” he couldn’t retort. His fellow cultist was correct but Wesk also unwilling to continue, not after he saw a child tearfully pleading his mother’s lifeless body to wake up, only to be eaten whole by a Ghoul the next moment. It was his Arte that killed the mother, and he never felt how heavy a life’s weight until now.

“Hmnph. Whatever, I got no time for this. I need to kill a lot of people so I can get the resources to advance to level 2. Cry back to your mom if you don’t like it here.” The cultist ran after the Ghoul, resuming his butchery.

Left behind, Wesk was at a loss. In fact, not all cultists of Dumuzin enjoyed the wanton slaughter, quite a bit had the same feeling as Wesk.

“Gurgh!?”

Suddenly, Wesk felt pain in his solar plexus. A burning feeling spread from there, consuming his innards, painfully.

“Arrcckh! Wha…? What the fuc- AAAHHH!”

He saw his hand bulging, as if something was growing inside the skin. Pain, only excruciating pain, Wesk felt. The phenomenon was happening in all parts of his body. Like a cell with uncontrollable growth, his body swelled into the shape of a ball of gruesome meat. His brains burst out from his skull, pulsing with red veins.

A cultist with the name of Wesk had died. An abomination of meat with grotesque tentacles and a single mouth in the center of its body took Wesk’s place in the world.