London, London Temple.
The wind howled through the dim streets, carrying leaves and dust into the air. Though it was clearly noon, the sky remained unnaturally dark, with swirling clouds overhead. Tornadoes, visible to the naked eye, formed and moved forward slowly, their ominous spirals growing larger by the minute.
At the intersection where these tornadoes converged stood an ancient palace, its architecture strikingly different from the surrounding modern high-rise buildings. This was the London Temple, one of the three great sanctuaries guarding Earth against dimensional threats.
The exterior of the temple bristled with red flame-colored runes etched into its walls. These runes glowed and pulsed, forming a protective barrier that deflected the assault of sand, stones, and the strange energy-infused winds battering the structure.
Inside the temple, a large number of sorcerers worked tirelessly. They stood in various positions within the grand hall, wielding their sling rings to trace glowing red flame runes in the air. The magic flowed into the walls, reinforcing the temple's defenses against the onslaught outside.
Despite their combined efforts, tension filled the room.
"Sorcerer Arnold, when will reinforcements arrive?" one sorcerer called out, his voice strained.
"We can't hold out much longer!" another added. "This time, it's the evil god himself attacking!"
At the front, Sorcerer Arnold remained composed, his movements steady as he traced another rune with his sling ring. He glanced back briefly and reassured the group. "Hold on a little longer. Reinforcements will be here soon."
He infused another rune into the defensive barrier and continued, "We must have faith. Though the evil god is powerful, he's been severely weakened. If we stand united, the London Temple will not fall."
Arnold's words carried weight, and the sorcerers reluctantly quieted down, focusing once more on their work. The rhythmic movements of their sling rings filled the hall as runes continued to materialize and merge with the walls.
Outside, the tornadoes intensified. Six or seven smaller tornadoes merged into three colossal, dark yellow whirlwinds that encircled the temple. Their swirling forms radiated a sinister energy, and the air grew thick with the corrosive power of twilight—a force on par with the magic of the Vishanti.
The tornadoes roared, unleashing waves of wind blades like machine gun fire. These yellow, razor-sharp projectiles bombarded the temple, their relentless barrage testing the limits of the runic barrier. Inside, the sorcerers felt the strain as the protective magic flickered under the onslaught. Sweat beaded on their foreheads, and their hands moved faster, replenishing the barrier with every ounce of magic they could muster.
"Sorcerer Arnold, how much longer?" another sorcerer cried out. "This power… it's too corrosive. I can't hold on much longer!"
Arnold opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, a sudden surge of energy rippled through the air.
A series of red flame-colored portals materialized in the hall. From the glowing apertures emerged several figures, led by none other than the Sorcerer Supreme herself, the Ancient One. Alongside her were Lockhart, Morin, and other skilled sorcerers.
The sight of their reinforcements brought visible relief to the sorcerers of the London Temple. Arnold stepped forward to greet their leader. "Sorcerer Supreme, you've arrived just in time," he said, his voice tinged with exhaustion. "The attacks are intensifying. We were nearing our limit."
The Ancient One surveyed the room, her calm presence steadying the frazzled sorcerers. "Do not worry," she said, her tone gentle but resolute. "Nothing will happen to the London Temple."
With a single, fluid motion, she raised her hand. Energy surged from her fingertips, and an intricate network of runes burst into existence. A wave of red flames radiated outward, enveloping the entire temple. The three dark yellow tornadoes outside trembled violently as if struck by an invisible force. They oscillated wildly before the Ancient One brought her hand down in a decisive gesture.
Boom!
The tornadoes shattered into fragments of yellow energy, which quickly dissipated into the air. The howling winds ceased, and an eerie calm descended over the area. Inside the temple, the sorcerers exchanged glances of awe and relief.
Lockhart observed the Ancient One's effortless suppression of the Twilight God's attack. Though he said nothing, his expression betrayed a mix of admiration and contemplation. He had initially been reluctant to come to the London Temple, but the Ancient One's orders left no room for debate.
Arnold stepped forward again, a smile breaking across his face. "Thank you, Sorcerer Supreme. Your intervention was…"
The Ancient One raised a hand, cutting him off. "Arnold, take me to the core of the temple. Now."
Though confused, Arnold nodded. "As you wish." He turned and led the way toward the temple's inner sanctum.
Lockhart fell into step behind the Ancient One, his curiosity piqued. As they walked, her voice echoed in his mind, distinct and private.
"The light of the world relies on the three great temples to shield Earth from dimensional demons. They are the first line of defense, and thus, the prime targets for attack."
Lockhart's heart skipped a beat. He glanced at the Ancient One but saw no indication that anyone else had heard her telepathic message. Realizing she was addressing him directly, he focused intently.
"The source of the light is the Twilight God's origin core, sealed here long ago. It's a fragment of his power, akin to the divinity of gods described in myths. For him, reclaiming it would mean regaining his strength and dimension."
Lockhart's mind raced. This was the first he had heard of the origin core. It felt like a clue—a stepping stone—toward becoming a dimensional god himself. Before he could fully process the implications, the Ancient One continued.
"The origin core can also serve as a weapon or a powerful energy source for sorcerers who have yet to reach higher realms. Its significance cannot be overstated."
Lockhart's thoughts churned. If the Twilight God's attack was focused on reclaiming the core, was the London Temple merely a distraction?
He hesitated before sending a telepathic question to the Ancient One. "Sorcerer Supreme, could this attack be a diversion? Might the Twilight God's true target lie elsewhere?"
The Ancient One did not reply. She walked in silence; her expression unreadable. Lockhart's unease grew, but he kept his suspicions to himself, following her deeper into the temple.
What is your true plan, Sorcerer Supreme? he wondered silently, his resolve firming with each step.
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