"Seven days ago, I entered the 'Well of Foreknowledge' and saw fragments of this disaster. I knew it would happen, but I couldn't determine the time, scale, or source. I can only do what I can—evacuate key members, stockpile supplies, establish emergency networks." She paused, and a trace of pain flashed in her eyes.
"But I can't warn everyone. Because once a large-scale warning is issued, the Temple's 'faith monitoring' system will immediately detect it and accelerate the awakening of the embryo."
"I can only choose silence, choose to sacrifice some people to preserve more." Carina sighed heavily.
The young priest was shocked.
"So... we've been 'abandoned'?"
His reading comprehension was clearly lacking.
"No." Carina shook her head, "You are 'protected.' The real sacrifice is those who couldn't escape in time. And our mission is to make sure their sacrifice isn't in vain."
At this moment, a rescue team member ran up: "Lady Carina! We've discovered over twenty survivors in the church basement in the west district! But they're trapped, and the walls could collapse at any moment!"
"Lead the way." Carina immediately ordered.
The group quickly arrived at the church. The entrance to the basement was sealed by a boulder, and faint cries for help came from within.
Carina raised her hand, her magic wand lightly tapped the ground, and she whispered: "Earth Vein Perception."
Her consciousness instantly extended underground, sensing the weak points in the wall structure. She quickly mapped out a safe passage and handed it to the engineering priest.
"Use the 'Levitation Charm' to reduce pressure above, then use the 'Rock Layer Stripping Technique' to carefully move the stones, slowly, without triggering a chain collapse."
The priests followed orders, and three hours later, the passage was finally cleared. Carina personally entered and carried out one weak civilian after another. Despite the consumption of her magic power, she repeatedly performed the "Physical Recovery Technique" and "Soul Calming Spell" until the last survivor was rescued. Temporary bonfires and magic lamps lit up across the city.
Members of the Dusk Hermit Association also joined in the rescue.
They seemed to know the black-robed woman Carina very well, coordinating seamlessly.
Inside the medical tent, the injured were treated; in front of distribution points, people orderly received food; rescue teams were still working, searching for the last survivors.
"You knew this would happen?" A raspy voice came from behind. Carina turned and saw Cam from the Dusk Hermit Association supporting a companion with an injured leg.
Carina's veil swayed slightly.
"I know more than you imagine, young man." She gestured for the attendant to take the wounded, "Such as your Hermit Association's underground base in the north of the city which should now be half collapsed."
Obviously.
The high ranks of the Temple have always been aware of the existence of the Dusk Hermit Association, perhaps even the high ranks of the Hermit Association themselves too, but Cam, who wasn't aware of this, still changed his expression.
Without waiting for him to question further, a commotion suddenly arose in the distance. Several strong men ran into the square carrying a door board, upon which lay a bloodied and gory figure—the fishmonger from the marketplace who always shortchanged customers.
"Make way! Let the Priestess see!"
The crowd automatically parted to form a path. Carina quickly stepped forward and lightly touched the fishmonger's forehead with her fingertips. The dark purple runes on her skin faintly glowed, forming a special pattern for diagnosis.
"Three ribs broken, punctured lung, ruptured liver." She calmly assessed, "Prepare Holy Oil and sutures, I need a quiet place."
The attendants swiftly cleared out a tent. Carina knelt on a simple grass mat, drew a delicate silver knife from her waist. As the blade slid through the fishmonger's chest, no blood flowed; instead, soft blue light emanated.
"This is..." Cam watched the wound heal itself in surprise beneath the glow.
"Ancient medicine." Carina didn't lift her head, "Older than your Hermit Association's history."
Outside the tent, the rescue operations continued in an orderly manner. Members of the Dusk Hermit Association and Carina's priests cooperated seamlessly: some reinforced dangerous buildings with magic, some distributed herbal soup, others organized children into safe areas. Gradually, the cries of panic turned into low conversations.
Occasionally, even comforting laughter could be heard.
Women gathered around makeshift stoves, cooking the remaining grains into porridge; children darted between the ruins, picking up usable pottery shards; several old craftsmen had already begun repairing broken carts. This ordinary life scene almost created an illusion, as if the horrors of last night were just a nightmare.
People believed the disaster had subsided, except those who had lost family members, most were filled with post-calamity relief. However, Carina stood outside the tent, her fingertips unconsciously stroking the Scarab Amulet at her waist. She gazed towards the direction of the Temple, her eyes heavy as steel—the sky there showed a sickly hue.
Though the populace thought the disaster had ended, only the wizards and priests knew that the crisis hadn't even begun, clouds twisted into vortexes, occasionally flashing ominous blue-black electrical light. More unsettling was the sun, which should have been high, was nowhere in sight, the horizon only held a flicker of dim light.
As if pressed down by some force.
The sun should have risen, but it did not, and that was the greatest terror.
"Priestess, the injured in the west district have all been settled."
Carina nodded slightly, not turning her head. She could smell the intense herbal mixture on the young priest, tinged with the scent of blood, hear his labored breathing burdened with suppressed fear. Everyone tacitly maintained surface calmness, like birds desperately repairing their nests before a storm.