After the blood moon passed, dawn finally arrived. The morning sunlight fell upon the ruins of the temple, lending a sense of tranquil stillness to the destruction.
The ravenous monsters had thoroughly ravaged the place, reducing the statue of the Goddess of Mercy to dust, leaving only the severed head gazing at the sky, streaked with tear marks.
The first to arrive were a party of adventurers, huddled around a few figures clad in grey cloaks.
The tide of monsters had just receded. After the influence of the blood moon dissipated, they lost interest in this place and swarmed back to their dungeons.
As the monsters ebbed away like a tide, the adventurers looked upon the grey cloaks with fear and awe, having grown more fearful and reverent of them.
The power of magicians was indeed inconceivably strong.
Among the grey cloaks, the leading old man clutched a ball of light, examining the situation here.
