I did as Wenzel bid, as I and everyone else still standing found our seats around the massive polished basalt table. I abandoned my Commanders to join Bleddyn near the head of it, sliding into my seat and exchanging a terse nod of acknowledgement with him as I did so. It only took a moment for the room to settle itself, and then all eyes turned to the Regent and the royals sitting at the head of the table.

  Wenzel didn’t waste any time before getting started. “Lord Ausfeld,” He said, turning his head slightly to regard the High Lord of Public Affairs. “What are the casualty figures from the incident?”

  Lord Cedic Ausfeld, a normally polished, stately looking older man, involuntarily reached to his long mustache to twirl it, as he oftentimes did. I saw him stop, though, and clench his hands together nervously on the table. “Ah…forgive me, Lord von Steinmark, but we only have estimates at this point in time.”

  “And what are those estimates?” Wenzel prompted.

  Ausfeld’s eyes darted around the room for a moment before he sagged in place. “We believe it might well be in excess of two thousand dead. Perhaps even somewhere around three thousand.”

  An audible breath was heard in the room then, as everyone within processed those numbers. I was no different.

  Two to three thousand innocent people. I’d looked up the last census conducted by Ausfeld’s office, and that had told me that the city of Blutstein was estimated to have roughly five hundred thousand residents. That’s…almost half of a whole percent of everyone who lived in and around Blutstein.

  My God.

  “Which isn’t even counting all of the injured,” Ausfeld continued. “There may well be three times that number of those with serious injuries. Now, please,” He said, holding a hand at the murmuring that had arisen in the wake of his words. “These are only preliminary estimates. It’s barely been more than four hours since the…incident-”

  “The Skyfall,” A voice interrupted him. Eyes all around the room followed it to a nervous-looking merchant. He gulped under the pressure, but continued. “That’s…what people are starting to call it, Lord Ausfeld.”

  Ausfeld nodded. “The Skyfall, then. It’s only been a handful of hours since it happened, and those numbers could be…worse, than we expected. Or perhaps even better?” He tried to give us a wan smile, but it died quickly. Ausfeld sighed. “Of course, I doubt that.”

  Wenzel frowned, drumming his thin fingers against the table. “We can expect several thousand more casualties over the coming days, then,” He said grimly. “The Healers are already beyond overwhelmed as it is. Nobody could have foreseen this, and thus there aren’t enough supplies and personnel to treat them.”

  “We’ll…do our best,” Lord Ausfeld said quietly.

  “I’m sure,” Wenzel said, smiling mirthlessly. He shook his head. “I’m afraid that’s not all, however. While the…‘Skyfall’ only assaulted Blutstein for perhaps fifteen minutes-”

  Was that all? It had felt like an eternity, being crushed beneath that weight.

  “-I’m afraid the actual extent of the incident was more…comprehensive,” He continued. “I’ll allow Lord Vessingen to elaborate.”

  At the Regent’s acknowledging nod, the bald High Lord of War grimaced. “It’s still happening outside the wards,” He said reluctantly.

  My lips parted in shock at his words, while the room erupted into a sudden panic. Mostly from the merchants and the nobles, of course, but I saw more than one white-knuckled grip on the chairs of those more martially inclined.

  Wenzel abruptly slammed one hand down hard enough onto the table that it left an imprint in the stone. The shattering sound drew the eyes of everyone in the room to the Regent, and he regarded us coldly. “You will be silent or you will be silenced. Continue, Lord Vessingen.”

  Lord Helmar Vessingen took a deep breath and nodded. “Of course, Regent. Perhaps I…misspoke, though. The weight we all experienced is not still occurring in the countryside, but something else is. My scouts believe it to be a remnant of the Skyfall incident itself. Let me start by first saying we were very lucky that Kyronkar acted in the way it did. As I said, we only experienced the worst of the Skyfall for…perhaps fifteen minutes?” He looked around at the room, to accompanying nods. “It’s difficult to remember the exact duration, but that’s our belief. However, outside of Kyronkar’s emergency wards? The pressure remained for a whole hour. I’m…afraid that if anyone was out in the countryside during that hour, they likely did not survive.”

  That froze the blood in my veins immediately. So, so many people I cared about weren’t within Blutstein at the moment. Azarus and his friend were on some kind of private expedition, while Grey, Honoka, Alex, and most of the Martial Orders were meant to be chasing down a monster horde.

  And Sylvia…my lover was on a private assignment for the Order of the Eclipsed Dawn, separate from the expeditionary force…

  I shuddered.

  Not now, Nate. You couldn’t break down now. Besides, they could have survived, because…

  “Unless, of course, they were proper Magi and Cultivators,” Vessingen added with a sigh. “We’ve…noticed that those who possessed their own Mana or Ki had a greater level of resilience to the weight that fell upon us. Many of you likely experienced this. When the incident began, it was only in the latter part of it that I was incapacitated. I could still breathe and move under my own will, albeit with a great deal of effort. This isn’t even counting that being indoors lessened the weight upon you. I was out in the markets at the time and thus bore the full brunt of the incident.”

  This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

  Yes…I had noticed that too. And considering that the Martial Orders were primarily composed of those past the first breakpoint, there was a good chance most of my loved ones survived, albeit with some effort. I had to believe everyone was still alive, if…only so I could delude myself.

  I forced myself to breathe easier as the conversation continued.

  “But…only a fraction of the population have passed the first breakpoint, even with the fast track,” One noble murmured aloud.

  “To be precise,” Lord Ausfeld piped in. “Around thirty percent of the population are level one hundred or more.”

  And most of those people were out in the countryside.

  “Beyond that, however,” Vessingen continued. “There are the…residual effects. We’ve barely had time for scouts to return, of course, but it turns out that doesn’t matter. The moment our initial scouts stepped through the curtain of the wards, they felt it. There is a lingering effect in the world outside of them that cannot be denied. It is…a different form of the pressure, almost. You can still feel the weight of what seems to be an increase in local Aether density, but that is bearable. What isn’t is a form of almost…burning, that my scouts have reported. It starts slow, as a tingle upon the skin. But within minutes, it begins to progress. The tingling increases until it becomes painful, then changes to a slight burning sensation, as if one’s hand were held over an open candle. You begin to feel an almost illness of sorts, dizziness, and nausea. What’s worse is, you can feel this within well…” He seemed lost for words for a moment.

  Wenzel had to virtually prod the man to get him to continue, with a directed frown. “Go on, Lord Vessingen.”

  “Well, my Lord,” The High Lord of War continued slowly. “My scouts told me…it felt like something in the air was attacking their souls. They said it felt like something was actively burning away at their very spirit. The longest that one of my scouts ventured from Blutstein was for a full hour and a half out, and then the same distance back. So, a full three hours. But when he returned, not long before this meeting was called…” He shook his head. “He was coughing up blood and had to be rushed to the Healers. It’s the damndest thing, though. They told me he started to lose his hair as well.”

  I sat back in my chair as the room erupted into low, worried murmurs. Out of the corner of my eyes, I could see the reactions of people at the news that the very outside air was dangerous to us now. Wenzel bore the deepest frown I’d ever seen on his face, while Oskar had buried his in his open palms. Isolde was chewing on the fingernail of her thumb to the quick, while Bleddyn was outright shaking in impotent rage. I couldn’t quite see my Commanders where I was from, but…that didn’t matter.

  I was too deep in thought.

  Something about the explanation of the scout’s symptoms…it rang as familiar to me. I furrowed my brow, trying to chase the thought, while I felt Fade worriedly nuzzle his snout into my open hand. I absentmindedly pet his furry head, and it was as I was doing so that I had my realization.

  “It can’t be…” I murmured, looking down and rubbing my chin.

  Someone noticed.

  “Do you have an insight, Marshal Hart?” I heard an even voice call, cutting through the chatter. Startled, I looked up and found that suddenly, all eyes in the room had fallen on me.

  I blanched, my shoulders tightening under the veritable pressure.

  “Yes…yes!” One excited noble cried excitedly across the table. “Surely, if anyone can divine this malady, it would be the apprentice of the Shattered Sun!”

  I didn’t like the murmurs of agreement that ridiculous statement generated.

  Still…

  “I…maybe,” I said, taking a deep breath. I started drumming my fingers on the table in front of me, focusing on that instead as I voiced my thoughts. “The description of the scout’s injuries…I recognize that. But, as you all know, I am a Precursor, not originally from Vereden-”

  I outright ignored the confused noises I heard from some of the peanut gallery. If they didn’t know, they didn’t know. I was speaking more to the people who actually mattered, and they would know who and what I was.

  “My people know what causes injuries like…that. The problem is, however…,” I scowled off into the distance at nothing in particular. “It’s highly unlikely in the extreme that such a thing could be replicated on Vereden. I’ve…I’ve seen something like the conditions that produce this illness, in my time here.”

  If anything would have done it, the destruction of Mt. Goryuen would have. But tellingly, there hadn’t been.

  “I’m inclined to believe that this is something similar, instead,” I continued. “With similar effects.”

  “Well?” Lord Vessingen prompted me. “What is it, man? Out with it! What are we dealing with?”

  “I…,” I blinked, deeply shocked I was even going to say my next words. “I think this is some kind of…Aetherially based radioactive fallout. Tell me, Lord Vessingen,” I abruptly addressed the confused Lord of War. “Did your scouts encounter the…burning everywhere they went?”

  Lord Vesssingen regarded me with a frown for a moment. “Yes and no,” He finally answered. “They went as far as they did because they were ordered to check on a small farming town not far from Blutstein by the name of Tipplesdale. We feared they might have been wiped out by the Skyfall as well. They…did suffer from a great deal more of the pressure than we did, but by running indoors during the worst of it, they were able to survive, if not without…casualties,” He said grimly, shaking his head. “However, by the time it had died down, they found that the worst of the effects were being kept out by their standard settlement wards. Nothing special, not like Blutstein…but enough to keep them alive. For now.”

  A sense of relief permeated the room, then, as the implications of that statement sank in.

  “Then…” One of my fellow Marshals piped up. “The rest of the Kingdom hasn’t been wiped out.”

  “Yes,” A deep voice, not heard yet in this meeting, spoke then. Eyes turned its way to find the speaker as the High Lord of the Sea.

  Lord Tolan Wersk.

  “Herztal still stands,” The shaggy old sailor said proudly. “The Navy noticed this at the same time the Army did,” He said, nodding to Lord Vessingen. “Our eyes reach far, and our people still live. However, it is our belief that this incident, this storm…it has reached not just Blutstein, and not just Tipplesdale or even the coasts, as we’ve discovered. No, we believe this might just be affecting the whole of Vereden itself. The strange, vile lightning stretches as far as the eye can see and beyond. So.” Wersk abruptly turned to me, and the room followed his example. “What does it mean for us, Marshal Hart, if all of Vereden has been contaminated with this…‘radioactive fallout’?”

  I slowly shook my head, overwhelmed by the implications of it all. “That the very world is deadly to us, now,” I said softly. “And if this is permanent…”

  Please, God, don’t let it be.

  “Then we’re all dead, and we just don’t know it yet.”