Story 774: The Plague Herald

The wind howled through the desolate streets of Vareth, carrying with it the foul stench of rot and despair. The once-great city lay in silent agony, its people either dead, turned, or hiding in the ruins, whispering prayers that no longer reached any god.

At the heart of it all, the cursed knight marched forward. His armor, once gleaming with honor, now bore the foul markings of undeath. His gauntlets twitched with each step, as if struggling against invisible chains. His breath, once steady with righteous fury, now came in ragged, corrupted wheezes.

And in his trembling hands, he carried the blackened box.

Selene Nocturna stood upon the balcony of The Rotting Cathedral, watching the spectacle unfold with an amused smirk. The knight moved with the urgency of a man on a mission, yet his soul was no longer his own. He was merely a vessel now—a herald of her plague.