The path to the sanctuary wound through the heart of Valenhold, where grand statues lay toppled and ivy claimed once-proud walls. The silence felt heavy, pressing down on them with each step.
Mira glanced at Kieran. "Do you think the spirit's blessing means something?"
Kieran tightened his grip on the hilt. "If it does, we'll find out soon enough."
Rolan pointed ahead, where the sanctuary's spire pierced the sky, stained glass windows cracked and darkened. "That's it. Heart of the city's protection magic."
Jace raised his axe. "Bet it's crawling with those corrupted things. We goin' in loud or quiet?"
Kieran hesitated. "Quiet. We don't know how many are inside. Stay sharp."
They slipped through the broken gates, moving carefully among fallen stone and shattered relics. Rag sniffed cautiously, ears twitching at faint echoes. Inside the sanctuary, dim light filtered through colored glass, painting fractured rainbows on the marble floor.
Bram pointed to the altar at the far end, where the heartstone pulsed with a sickly green light. Runes crawled over its surface like twisted veins.
"Corrupted," Bram muttered. "They've tainted it completely."
A low chant echoed from behind the altar. Stepping closer, they spotted robed figures kneeling, hands raised toward the heartstone. One figure stood taller, his robe marked with a blood-red sigil.
Kieran motioned for the group to fan out. "Take out the cultists first, then the leader. Quietly."
Jace moved behind one of the chanting men, striking swiftly with his axe. The body crumpled soundlessly. Mira whispered an incantation, sending a sleeping spell toward another, who slumped forward.
Just as Rolan prepared to strike, the leader turned, eyes blazing with dark energy. "Intruders! Protect the heartstone!"
The remaining cultists sprang up, summoning corrupted vines and shards of stone. The leader raised his staff, hurling a bolt of darkness toward Kieran, who barely dodged in time.
Bram countered with a pulse of light, cutting through the vines. Mira shot a beam of pure magic, forcing the leader to deflect with a conjured shield. Jace charged forward, knocking one cultist into a pillar with a brutal swing.
The leader sneered. "You can't cleanse what has already been consumed. This city belongs to the abyss!"
Kieran leapt onto the altar, clashing swords with the cult leader. Sparks flew as their blades met, and Rag circled behind, snapping at the leader's legs. Rolan hurled a vial of blessed water, splashing the heartstone and making it hiss and smoke.
The leader howled, staggering back as his power wavered. Kieran seized the moment, striking low and slashing across the man's torso. The cultist collapsed, gasping.
With his dying breath, he hissed, "The heartstone's corruption... cannot be undone. You've only delayed the inevitable."
As the man went still, the corrupted light dimmed, but the heartstone remained tainted. Bram approached cautiously. "We'll need a purification ritual to cleanse it completely. This kind of magic doesn't fade on its own."
Mira exhaled slowly. "At least we've bought some time. If they planned to spread this corruption, we stopped it here."
Kieran wiped his blade clean, eyeing the heartstone warily. "We need to make sure no one else tries this. Let's seal the sanctuary once it's purified."
Rolan nodded. "We'll need to gather materials from the city to perform the ritual. Let's hope there's enough left intact."
As they prepared to secure the sanctuary, shadows loomed outside, and faint chanting echoed through the empty streets—an unsettling reminder that the cult's influence still lingered.