The gray tide slowly settled into stillness, and when it did, the cathedral no longer looked like a place of golden light and divine splendor. It looked like something dragged up from the bottom of the sea.
Every surface, every pillar, every pew, every frozen body had been covered in the same layer of ash and shadow.
I lowered my hand.
The spell had taken its toll. The hydra's minds were burning themselves out, and three thousand souls pressed against my consciousness with the weight of something living, each one whispering, each one hungry.
Casting two high-level spells at the same time was already enough to drain me, and forcing them both out in less than a second had cost even more.
Still, I remained standing.
And the path to the sanctum was open.
