Chapter 100: The Settled Side Quest
Inigo moved first, setting the charge beneath the ruined apothecary. He knelt by the cracked stone foundation, glancing at the faint, rust-colored sigils etched into the mortar—traces of the cult’s presence. He wedged the explosive under a floorboard and secured it with adhesive. His breath hitched slightly, but his expression stayed stoic.
Lyra took the next charge. She and Korrik lifted a glaring slab beneath the broken statue in the square, slotted the device underneath, and covered it carefully. She looked to Inigo, who gave her a tight nod in reply. She tucked the trigger safely in her pouch.
They moved in small teams—one charge planted under the old inn’s support beams, another inside the abandoned blacksmith’s forge, and another beneath what used to be the barracks. Each placement felt like a blow—but also like needed surgery.
Arienne and Garen followed them to the chapel. The final, most critical charge went beneath the altar’s base, inside the crypt. That obelisk’s ritual glow still haunted her mind. This device would bring down not just stone, but unmake its tainted foundation.
At dusk, they withdrew to a ridge just beyond town. Garen stood guard with a flare, Lyra nocked an arrow, Korrik racked his axe, and Arienne held the tracefinder it pulsed once. Inigo clicked the detonator’s trigger.
First came a dull rumble. Walls blew outward like petals—panes shattered, doors blasted off hinges. Flames erupted where charges blew in the apothecary and forge. The obelisk-capped altar shattered, the crypt’s ceiling trembling as stone collided and dust cloaked the square.
They watched the town crumble, structure by structure. The statue toppled in a snapshot of collapse, the inn’s roof caved in. Embers flared through broken windows. Black smoke spiraled into a gray evening sky.
They waited for the earth to stop shaking before moving closer.
When they finally crept forward, the town wasn’t what it had been. Foundations and beams lay in splinters; rubble choked the cobblestones. Dust covered twisted metal and scorched timber. But the earth beneath it was cracked and strangely hollow in one spot—a low tremor suggested something still alive below.
Arienne, still drained, laid her hand on the rubble and whispered a cleansing prayer. Pale green runic light drifted across broken stone. "Foundation’s broken," she said. "No trace anchor remains on the surface."
Inigo surveyed the ruins, tension prickling through him. "We did it."