[The First Day of Destruction, 18:00] [The Outer District — Northern Sector]
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The sun retreated behind the western mountains. The sky bruised a deep purple before fading into the black of night.
The Outer District of Kami Miyako transitioned into the evening. It was a sprawling labyrinth of wooden tenements and narrow cobblestone streets. Thousands of hearth fires ignited within the homes. Magical streetlamps flickered to life along the main thoroughfares. They cast a warm orange glow over the bustling populace.
The district hummed with mundane activity. Heavy horse-drawn carriages clattered over the stones carrying late-night cargo. Blacksmiths banked their forges for the night. The scent of roasted meats and baking bread drifted from countless small kitchens. Half a million people went about their lives. They felt entirely secure behind the great walls of their holy capital.
Perched atop the slate roof of a towering northern watchtower, the Eternal Death looked down.
The wind whipped at its tattered shadow robes. It possessed no capacity for empathy. It saw only targets. It viewed the sprawling city of wooden structures as an expansive field of dry kindling.
The undead assassin recalled the strict instructions given by its dark master. It needed to generate panic. Panic birthed despair. Despair generated vast quantities of negative energy. Negative energy tasted incredibly sweet to the undead.
The Eternal Death raised its skeletal hand. It held a smooth crystal sphere. The item pulsed with a sickly viridian light.
It was an artifact from YGGDRASIL known as the Curse of Niflheim.
In the realm of the game, players utilized this consumable item for dungeon area denial. Crushing the crystal generated a massive, expanding cloud of heavy, toxic mist. It was designed to block narrow corridors and deter invading guilds. It sapped the stamina and health of anyone caught within its radius. Here in the New World, it would serve as the perfect catalyst for a massacre.
The Eternal Death closed its fist.
CRACK.
A sharp hiss escaped the shattered crystal. A dense fog poured rapidly from the broken shards. The mist was significantly heavier than normal air. It did not drift upward into the wind. It cascaded over the edge of the watchtower. It fell toward the streets like a rushing waterfall of green sludge.
The fog hit the cobblestones silently. It immediately began to flow. It moved like a predatory tide through the narrow alleyways. It seeped under the gaps of wooden doors. It crept around the hooves of the draft horses.
But the Eternal Death was not satisfied with mere poison. It required a grander spectacle.
It raised its remaining hand. Innate necromantic fire coalesced at its fingertips.
It cast
[Necrotic Blast].
It was merely a mid-tier offensive spell. In a duel between high-level players, it would serve only as a minor distraction. However, the Eternal Death was a Level 90 entity. Its raw magical statistics were monstrous. The basic spell scaled drastically with its caster's power. It transformed from a simple projectile into a localized siege weapon.
The Eternal Death did not cast it just once. It fired three consecutive blasts in rapid succession.
The beads of dark fire streaked down into the district below.
BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.
The explosions were deafening.
The first blast struck a massive lumber yard. The second obliterated a busy textile warehouse. The third detonated directly in the center of a clustered row of residential homes. Splinters of burning wood turned into lethal shrapnel. The shrapnel shredded the nearby houses. The seasoned timber caught fire instantly.
Then, the expanding green fog hit the rising flames.
The alchemical properties of the Niflheim mist reacted violently with the normal fire. It did not extinguish the flames. It acted as an incredibly volatile accelerant.
The fire turned a deep, nausea-inducing emerald green. It roared to life with unnatural ferocity. The toxic gas fueled the inferno. The green flames leaped from roof to roof with terrifying speed.
The Outer District woke up.
Confusion morphed instantly into blind terror. Heavy wooden doors burst open across the sector. People poured into the streets. They coughed violently as the toxic fog burned their lungs. Mothers clutched their children. Men shouted frantically for the city guard.
They saw the green fire consuming their neighbors' homes. They realized the flames were spreading faster than a man could run.
The Eternal Death watched the chaos unfold.
"Run," the undead whispered to the scrambling ants below. "Scream."
It leaped from the high watchtower. It landed heavily on a rooftop three streets away. It kicked a heavy brick chimney stack with a single armored foot. The masonry shattered. Tons of heavy bricks crashed through the roof of a sleeping family below. The collapse effectively blocked a narrow side alley.
The undead leaped again. It did not stay to slaughter them individually. It was the shepherd. The green fire was its loyal dog. It struck key structures to seal the escape routes leading outward.
It herded the terrified cattle straight toward the center of the city. The green fog continued to expand. It swallowed the outer edges of the capital entirely. The emerald plague had officially begun.