A few minutes ago, just as Michael had decided to go after what he suspected was the source of infection, the whole realm suddenly started shaking violently.
Though it lasted only a short moment, the impression it left behind was heavy. The crystal veins beneath the ground had flared, pulsing brighter than before, as if something deep within the ruin had awakened.
It had stopped quickly.
But what followed was far worse.
Both Michael and Arianne watched as dozens of participants like them ran like madmen toward a certain familiar direction.
The same direction Cedric, Lucien, and Alaric had gone.
The same direction every infected individual had been drawn.
They did not run with discipline or coordination. They ran with desperation. Some stumbled and fell, only to force themselves back to their feet immediately. Others ignored wounds that would have crippled a normal person. Blood trailed behind them in thin streaks across the crystal-veined ground.
