That One Time I Married A Crazy Goddess

Quinara lay unconscious on the cold ground, her red skin glistening faintly under the sun. The group hovered around her, unsure of how to proceed. Xyenn sighed, holding a waterskin in his hand. 

"Alright, let's wake her up," he muttered. 

Yuuna grinned mischievously. "Make it dramatic!" 

Xyenn raised an eyebrow but complied, pouring the water over Quinara's face. 

"Are you alright? Can you wake up a little bit more? Sorry I knocked you out—."

The reaction was immediate. 

Quinara shot up like a cat drenched in rain, letting out a blood-curdling scream that echoed through the area. Her arms flailed wildly, her hair of black leaves whipping through the air as she shrieked and hollered like a banshee. 

"AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!" she screamed, her golden eyes wide and wild. 

The group just... stared. 

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!" 

Mertha blinked, folding her arms. "How long is this gonna go on?" 

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!" 

Yuuna stifled a laugh, covering her mouth. "Oh no, don't stop her now. This is gold." 

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!" 

Gorran sighed, arms crossed, his brooding face completely unamused. "Tch. I've seen people lose limbs and scream less. I'll end her quick to shut her up."

"AAAAAAAA—Wait…" Quinara blinked, her screaming tapering off as she suddenly noticed the group. Her breathing was ragged as she looked at them with suspicion, her body tense. "Who the hell are you people?!" 

Xyenn raised his hands defensively. "Hey, relax. We're not—" 

"Wait! Don't tell me!" Quinara interrupted, pointing a shaky finger at them. "Are you... those cultists?!" Her eyes narrowed. 

The group exchanged glances. 

"Or..." Quinara's voice dropped to a trembling whisper. "Bandits?! Are you here to take advantage of my body?!" 

Yuuna snorted, trying—and failing—not to burst into laughter. 

Quinara kept going, her voice rising again. "Or worse! Fighters for the Sun-Drake? Is that it?"

Yuuna held up her hands, still laughing. "Okay, okay, calm down! We're not any of those things! We're here to help you!" 

Quinara squinted at her, still suspicious. "Help? What kind of 'help,' huh?" 

Yuuna grinned widely. "Oh, you know, the kind where we use you to stop the Sun-Drake from being reborn from your pregnant belly! That sort of thing." 

Quinara's eyes widened. "...That's not exactly comforting." 

Gorran stepped forward, his towering frame casting a shadow over Quinara. His brooding expression deepened, and his eyes glinted with a steely resolve. 

"Enough," he said, his voice low and commanding. "I can handle this." 

Xyenn immediately frowned. "Uh, Gorran, I don't think—" 

Gorran ignored Xyenn, unsheathing Xenith with a dramatic flourish. The massive blade hummed with dark energy, and shadows spiraled up from its jagged edges like smoke. His eyes glowed faintly as he loomed over Quinara, who leaned back nervously. 

"I was a top assassin for the Xenith Clan," Gorran said, his voice dripping with intensity. "My methods of interrogation work. Every. Time. You will speak."

Quinara blinked. "Wait, what—" 

Before she could finish, Gorran crouched down, bringing Xenith close to her face. The shadows from the blade seemed to swirl around her, and his eyes took on a hypnotic, spiraling effect. 

"WHERE IS THE ORACLE?!" Gorran barked, his voice booming. 

Quinara jumped, startled. "She's dead, I—" 

"What species are you?! What are you hiding?!" 

"I'm trying to—" 

"How did you get trapped here so easily?! Answer me!" 

"I'M TRYING TO ANSWER!" Quinara yelled back, "STOP CUTTING ME OFF—."

But Gorran wasn't done. He switched positions dramatically, flipping Xenith over his shoulder and pointing it at her from a different angle, the blade still humming with dark energy. 

The banter continued, with Gorran firing off question after question while Quinara struggled to get a word in; Gorran kept switching positions over and over with each one ended with his blade pointed at the woman. Xyenn and Mertha exchanged a look before finally stepping in. 

Xyenn said, "She's pregnant, she can't deal with so much pressure…"

"Huh? No way you're telling me to stop?" Gorran scoffed.

"I am. So?"

Mertha grabbed him from the other side, pulling him back as he waved Xenith dramatically in the air. "Come on, brooding boy. Let's give her a chance to actually answer." 

Yuuna, meanwhile, was doubled over with laughter, clutching her sides. "Oh my gods, that was the funniest thing I've ever seen! But yeah, let's get to the answering questions part and track the woman down."

'Holding this crow's feather..the crow stopped moving. He's stationery. Why..?' Yuuna thought.

As Gorran was dragged away, Quinara let out an exasperated sigh. "I was willing to talk from the beginning!" 

Gorran shrugged nonchalantly, sheathing Xenith. "It works every time, fools." 

He then looked at Xyenn, like he was competing. 

Xyenn gave Gorran a smug look, a look that said, "You're not better than me."

But the words didn't come out of Xyenn's mouth.

Finally, Quinara took a deep breath, calming herself. "Alright, listen up. My name is Quinara. I'm a Quen." 

Xyenn tilted his head. "A...Quen? Never heard of it." 

Quinara nodded. "We're a rare race, born from moonlight and shadow. Our bodies are imbued with what you might call... lunar energy. It's why my skin glows faintly in the dark and why my hair looks like leaves—it's all connected to the cycles of the moon." 

Yuuna tilted her head, fascinated. "That's so cool! What else can you do?" 

"Well," Quinara said, brushing her hair aside, "we're fast healers, and our bodies adapt quickly to ensure survival. That's why..." She hesitated, her cheeks flushing slightly. "...our pregnancies are... unusually fast." 

Mertha raised an eyebrow. "How fast are we talking?" 

Quinara sighed, clearly embarrassed. "If I had a baby two weeks ago… it could be delivered in another two weeks." 

The group stared at her in stunned silence. 

Xyenn blinked. "Wait. How long has it been since you got pregnant?" 

Quinara looked thoughtful for a moment before answering, "Two weeks." 

The realization hit the group like a thunderclap. 

"WHAT?!" Yuuna yelled, her pink eyes wide. 

Mertha took a step back, her fists clenching. "Are you saying that thing could pop out any second now?!" 

Quinara shrugged innocently. "Well... yeah." 

Panic ensued immediately, with everyone scrambling in different directions, shouting over each other about what to do. 

'What damn luck. She's about to give birth any moment! Though it's not guaranteed if she'll give birth to him, it's still not a 0% chance. A chance I'm definitely not willing to take.' Xyenn thought. 'If I have to face him, would he be as tough as Haldrek? Or worse? I'm getting nervous even thinking about it. Gotta break that habit too. Getting all nervous. When enemies have the potential to be as strong as Haldrek, it fucking scares me. I don't wanna fear anything. How do I break out of that? Or is it impossible?'

Mertha said, "Haha! I've heard of the Quen. Me and my clan used to trade with them a lot. Good times.."

Quinara was sitting on the ground, her black-leaf hair cascading around her shoulders. Her golden eyes glimmered faintly as she drew intricate symbols into the dirt with her finger. The group watched in silence as the runes began to take shape, each one precise, complex, and ancient. 

"These," Quinara began, her voice steady but tinged with sorrow, "are the Runes of the Moon's Grace, gifted to my people by Sevyini, the Dragon Goddess of the Moon. Sevyini was not like the Sun-Drake. She was a goddess of balance, a being who cherished the night's calm as a counter to the sun's fury. Her light was cool, protective, and nurturing—a shield against the chaos of flame and rage." 

She glanced at the group, her finger pausing on the final stroke of a crescent-like rune. "Sevyini's power is what kept my people, the Quen, safe for generations. Her moonlight imbued our bodies with her blessings, making us resistant to fire, immune to the Sun-Drake's influence, and deeply connected to the cycles of the moon. But her protection isn't infinite. It's fading now, and soon... it may be gone entirely." 

Quinara gestured to the runes she had drawn, her voice taking on a teacher-like tone as she explained their meanings. 

Lun'thar: She pointed to a crescent-shaped rune, its curves sharp and elegant. "This is Lun'thar, the Rune of Reflection. It absorbs harmful energies, especially those of fire and chaos, and redirects them harmlessly. Without this, my body would have been consumed long ago." 

Selveth: Next, she indicated a rune shaped like a starburst surrounded by concentric circles. "This is Selveth, the Rune of Serenity. It calms the mind, shielding it from corruption and madness. Sevyini knew that fire doesn't just destroy the body—it burns the soul." 

Threnn'kai: Her finger traced over a jagged, angular rune that seemed to resemble the outline of a mountain. "This is Threnn'kai, the Rune of Endurance. It strengthens the body, allowing us to heal rapidly and endure physical strain. Without it, I wouldn't have survived carrying..." She hesitated, her voice catching. "...this thing inside me." 

Noctirith: Finally, she drew attention to a spiral rune, its edges curling inward toward a single point. "This is Noctirith, the Rune of Binding. It is the most important of all. It anchors Sevyini's blessing to my body, creating a link between the moonlight and my soul. But..." She sighed, her hand falling to her side. "It's weakening. The link is almost gone. When Sevyini died, her light began to fade, and now... I'm running out of time." 

Quinara stood, brushing the dirt from her hands. "The Sun-Drake's plan revolves around the Mark of the Eternal Flame, a curse that has existed for thousands of years. It's not just a symbol—it's a fragment of the Sun-Drake's essence, a shard of its godly power." 

Quinara placed a hand on her stomach, her golden eyes filled with pain. "I carry that Mark now. The Sun-Drake's essence and a piece of his spirit before he died before has manifested inside me as an embryonic form of its rebirth. This... thing inside me will grow until it consumes me completely, and when it's ready, it will destroy my body to be reborn into the world." 

Yuuna commented, "Huh. Then it's confirmed then."

Xyenn asked, "What's confined then?"

"The Sun-Drake placed the curse before he died, it HAD to have been overseen by the elder dragon gods. They're manipulating gods who suffer the cycle of rebirth constantly and using their own plans on them to see if they work, so they could possibly try it. And it just seems like they don't wanna have to take my heart."

"Bastards don't wanna take unnecessary risks. Who are the elder dragon gods, Yuuna?"

"About 100. More or less. There's sooo many. It's gross."

Xyenn and Mertha exclaimed, "100?!"

Xyenn covered his face, "We're screwed. It was nice knowing you all."

Gorran asked Quinara, "Why were you specifically chosen?"

"The reason I was chosen," Quinara continued softly, "is because of my people—the Quen. We were Sevyini's chosen ones, her protectors and her children. Our bodies were shaped by her light, making us uniquely resistant to the Sun-Drake's influence. The Sun-Drake can't fully manifest in just any body. It needs one that can endure its divine essence long enough for it to grow strong. That's why it chose me." 

Her voice cracked slightly as she added, "My people... they feared me. They saw the Mark of the Eternal Flame on my body and knew what it meant. They thought I was cursed, a harbinger of death. Even my husband..." She paused, her eyes welling with tears. "Even he abandoned me. They all did. They left me to die because they were too afraid of what I might bring upon them." 

Quinara's hands trembled as she clenched them into fists. "I loved them. I loved my husband, my family, my people. I didn't want to bring death to them—I wanted to protect them. But they threw me away like I was nothing. Now, the only thing I have left is my baby. And I refuse to let the Sun-Drake take it from me." 

Mertha, who had been silent until now, clenched her own fists, her knuckles turning white. Her voice was low and angry as she said, "They shouldn't have abandoned you. They should have fought for you." 

Quinara shook her head bitterly. "It was for the best. But that doesn't mean I don't hate them for it." 

Xyenn noticed Mertha's emotions.

'After what happened with her and her clan, of course she would feel like this. Family is closer to her than anything. Every once in a while, I can see she's trying to be a leader, to make herself useful in every situation. She didn't think she was a good enough leader for them, so she's trying to piece herself around us, and herself. Of course hearing what Quinara said would set her off on the inside. Family means everything. Funny…I never even had that thought once.'

Xyenn wanted to reach out to her, but he kept his hand down. He doesn't even know why.

Quinara took a deep breath, composing herself before continuing. "After my people abandoned me, I sought help from the witch Haelga. Heard so many things about her, the coven and all. The coven being the group of witches who harnessed dark magic with the bargain of their souls, that type of thing. She was the only one who didn't see me as a monster. She told me that if anyone could sever the connection between me and the Sun-Drake, it would be the Blood Maidens." 

Yuuna tilted her head. "Blood Maidens? That sounds... creepy. After being here for more than 100+ years, I never heard of them."

Xyenn asked, "Really?"

Yuuna held Xyenn's hand, saying, "Kyrrin is really big, darling. To travel the entire world once would take someone 80 years."

"Whoa…"

'I didn't even know that. And there's people out here dedicating their lives to being adventurers. Talk about dedication.' 

Quinara nodded. "They are... unsettling. Blood Maidens are ancient, powerful blood mages with centuries of experience. They specialize in manipulating the body—its flesh, its blood, its very essence—to create powerful magic. They can break curses, heal wounds, and even reshape the body entirely. But their methods..." 

She hesitated, her expression darkening. "Their methods are not for the faint of heart. Blood mages use blood as a conduit for their magic. They draw it from their own veins, or sometimes from others, and use it to fuel their spells. The blood connects them to the body's life force, allowing them to manipulate it directly. That's how they're able to sever curses—they can isolate the part of the soul or body that's been corrupted and cut it away, like a surgeon removing a tumor." 

Xyenn frowned. "That sounds... painful." 

"It is," Quinara replied bluntly. "And it's not always successful. Haelga told me that the Blood Maidens would need a rare flower called Vyreth's Bloom to amplify their magic. It's a crimson flower that only grows in places where great bloodshed has occurred. Without it, they won't have the power to sever the Mark of the Eternal Flame." 

Quinara's voice faltered as she finished. "We were on our way to find the Blood Maidens when the Oracle was killed. Now... I don't know if I can make it in time. The Sun-Drake is growing stronger every day. If we don't sever the Mark soon..." She trailed off, her hand instinctively moving to her stomach. 

Mertha's voice was cold but determined. "We'll get you to the Blood Maidens. No matter what." 

Yuuna grinned, trying to lighten the mood. "And we'll find that Vyreth's Bloom, too. How hard can it be to find a flower that grows in blood-soaked places?" 

Quinara managed a weak smile, but her eyes remained troubled. "The flowers were already found, by me and the Oracle. But that witch woman stole them when she killed her. She has them. If you all can say we can track her, we can take them off of her."

Gorran asked, "And those flowers are the last pieces of the dragon goddess of the moons power, in which the Blood Maidens will need to help you as well as their blood magic, right?"

"Yes. Right before her death, this is all I had."

"Tch. Why would that Parcy woman want the flowers?"

Yuuna tilted her head, her playful grin fading as she looked at Quinara with genuine curiosity. "Okay, but... why? Why your race? Why you specifically? I mean, out of all the people and bloodlines in the world, why would the Sun-Drake choose you? There has to be a reason, right? I just kindaaaa want a more detailed explanation."

Quinara's golden eyes flickered with a mixture of thoughtfulness and sorrow. She sat back on the stone floor, her fingers absentmindedly tracing the edge of the crescent rune she had drawn earlier. After a long pause, she began to speak, her tone measured and deliberate, as if piecing together a puzzle that had haunted her for years. 

"From what Haelga talked about, my race, the Quen was chosen because we were the natural counter to the Sun-Drake's power," Quinara began, her voice steady but tinged with bitterness. "As I said before, the Quen were created under the blessing of Sevyini, the Moon Goddess. Our bodies were designed to resist fire and chaos. We were supposed to be the guardians of balance in the goddesses continent, the ones who could stand against the Sun-Drake and its destructive cycles. But that blessing... it had unintended consequences." 

She paused, her finger drawing a new rune in the dirt—a jagged flame encircled by a crescent moon. "Sevyini's blessing didn't just make us resistant. It also made us compatible. Our bodies are uniquely attuned to divine energy, whether it comes from the moon or the sun. That's why we could carry her protection so strongly. But that same compatibility makes us vulnerable to the Sun-Drake's corruption. It can latch onto us in ways it couldn't with other races, feeding off our lunar energy to sustain its own rebirth." 

Quinara's gaze darkened as she continued. "The Sun-Drake didn't choose me or my people randomly—it was strategic. It needed a vessel that could contain its essence without being destroyed in the process. Most mortals would burn to ash the moment the Mark of the Eternal Flame manifested in them. But the Quen... we're different. Our bodies can survive the strain. We can endure the fire long enough for the Sun-Drake to grow and regain its strength. And that's why it chose me." 

"Okay, fine," Yuuna said, crossing her arms. "But why you specifically? There's gotta be more to it than just 'oh, you happen to be a Quen.' What makes you so special?" 

Quinara hesitated, her expression conflicted. "That's... harder to explain. I don't have all the answers, but I've spent a lot of time thinking about it. And I've come up with a few reasons why I, of all people, was chosen. Maybe! Don't judge me if I sound dumb."

"Go ahead."

'We still have time. That crow is still stationary. Like it's hovering. But it's nowhere near us. I really wanna understand this. Probably help me understand the elder dragon gods intentions from if they have plans in the future to avoid the cycle of rebirth.'

Quinara gestured to the runes on the ground. "Not every Quen is blessed equally. Some of us carry more of Sevyini's light than others. I always thought I was... special. My endurance, my healing, my connection to the moon—it's stronger than most Quen I've ever met. It's possible that the Sun-Drake sensed that strength and saw me as the perfect vessel. My lunar energy is strong enough to sustain its divinity without breaking apart." 

Quinara's voice softened, and she placed her hand protectively over her stomach. "And then there's this. I was pregnant when the Mark manifested in me. The Sun-Drake... it's not just rebirthing itself—it's using my child as a medium. I think that's why it chose me specifically. It needed a Quen strong enough to carry its essence, but it also needed someone who could bear life. My pregnancy gave it the perfect opportunity to grow and manifest without drawing attention to itself—at least, not until it's too late." 

"But there's more to it than just me," Quinara continued, her voice growing heavy with grief. "This wouldn't have been possible if Sevyini was still alive. Her death is what allowed the Sun-Drake to act so boldly. The Moon Goddess was our protector, the one who shielded us from the Sun-Drake's influence. When she died, her light began to fade, and the Sun-Drake saw its chance. Without her, the Quen were left vulnerable. And without her, I was left vulnerable." 

She looked up at the group, her eyes filled with sorrow. "I think the Sun-Drake didn't just choose me because of my strength—it chose me because of my weakness. It knew I couldn't fight back without Sevyini's blessing. It knew I was alone."

Quinara shuddered, "I'm glad I told someone this. Haven't been able to talk to anyone in days. I'm really scared."

Yuuna clenched Xyenn's hand as she held it, her other first clenched.

Xyenn said, "Our fates align then."

Quinara asked, "How? If I may ask? What do you gain from this? From helping me?"

Yuuna added, "We're gonna kill the fucking Sun-Drake. That's what we gain. And I have the devourers heart, as I told Xyenn before. Any dragon god I kill or consume gives me power. This is perfect."

Mertha cracked her knuckles, "A puny witch named Parcy, a former witch of the coven with Haelga seeks to connect Hell to Kyrrin. How? Don't know. But we're here to stop her as well."

Quinara wiped her eyes, "So that's why you want to use me?"

Yuuna corrected herself, "I'm sorry I said that. Not use you, not manipulating you. I didn't mean to say it like that earlier. Forgive me."

At that moment, Xyenn looked at Yuuna, thinking, 'She told me before she didn't want to be that person any longer. A manipulator of the weak, she even took back her own joke. This really means a lot to her. The way she's changing…'

Mertha continued, "I'll always help the oppressed when needed."

Gorran rolled his eyes. 

Quinara pointed at Yuuna, "Wait, aren't you Yuuna?"

Yuuna pointed at herself, shocked, "Mm? Me?" She frowned, "What did you hear?"

"Word travels fast around here. You saved some people from Berserkers of the Flame. And they said you were a villain. Are you a good guy now? You're way too comfortable out in the open like this."

Yuuna smiled happily, and she tackled Xyenn, hugging and choking him, saying, "She said I saved people! I'm becoming famous again but in a good way! This is great!"

Xyenn, being choked to death, grinned, saying, "That's awesome—ACK! YOU'RE CHOKING ME, DAMMIT!"

'After all she's done…was that all she needed to hear? It seems like it. But I can feel her happiness. She's starting to be looked at in a positive light, no matter if it's billions of people against her, only took a few people to see her as something other than evil."

(The Sanctuary)

The sanctuary was an unholy sight, a decaying cathedral twisted by time and fire. Its walls, once pristine marble, were blackened with soot, cracked with age, and etched with flaming runes that pulsed faintly in the dim light. Rows of cultists in white robes sat in pews carved from charred wood, the runes on their garments glowing like embers. Over their faces, glowing talismans hung like masks, each inscribed with draconic symbols that flickered with yellow flame. 

At least two dozen of them sat nodding in eerie unison as the leader stood at the front of the sanctuary. Draped in an elaborate robe of molten gold and crimson, the cult leader held a massive Flame Codex, a tome bound in what appeared to be molten leather, its pages emitting faint trails of smoke. His voice boomed through the room, equal parts sermon and madness, as his congregation swayed to his words. 

"In the name of the eternal flame, we are cleansed!" the cult leader bellowed, his voice cracking with fervor. "The Sun-Drake watches, his blazing eyes upon us! Only through fire shall we burn away the sins of the flesh and ascend to his eternal glory!" 

The congregation erupted in cheers, their voices trembling with manic devotion. 

"Shir lathrask! Naxthar kal'vyr!" the leader intoned, his voice dipping into the guttural tones of the draconic tongue. 

"Shir lathrask!" the cultists echoed, their voices trembling with fanaticism. 

The leader's eyes burned with zeal as he gestured toward the center of the sanctuary. There, two bodies hung in a grotesque display—a naked couple tied to gnarled, rotting trees that had grown unnaturally from the very stone floor. Their flesh was blackened and cracked, still engulfed in flickering flames that hissed and crackled. The air reeked of charred meat and sulfur. 

The leader pointed to the burning corpses, his voice growing louder and more frenzied. "Behold! The sinners who rejected the Sun-Drake's light! Their flesh is ash, their souls purified in his eternal flame!" 

The cult cheered wildly, some of them rising from their seats and chanting in unison. 

"To the flame, we sacrifice! To the flame, we rise!" 

The leader roared, raising the Codex high above his head. "The flame is eternal! The Sun-Drake's power shall consume the unworthy and reward the faithful! He will reign, and WE SHALL BURN IN HIS GLORY!" 

The congregation's fervor grew. Some cultists began clawing at their own robes, exposing flesh covered in burn scars and tattoos of flaming suns. Others reached toward the burning bodies, as if trying to bask in the heat. 

The leader's voice turned cold and cruel. "Only the chosen may reign alongside the Sun-Drake. The rest will perish, their bodies fuel for the eternal flame!" r 

Before the leader could continue, the ceiling of the sanctuary exploded. Shards of stone and splinters of wood rained down as a massive figure descended into the room. 

The masked woman landed first, her black cloak billowing like smoke as she stood to her full height. Her runic mask glowed faintly red and black, its intricate patterns shifting like living flame. Behind her, a monstrous figure loomed. 

Salazar was no longer the crow they had once known. His form had twisted into something demonic—an amalgamation of bird and nightmare. He now stood upright, his humanoid frame towering over the cultists. Four massive, tattered wings spread wide, their edges glowing with molten light. His once feathery arms were now sinewy and clawed, talons sharp enough to rend flesh from bone. His head, still vaguely crow-like, was adorned with jagged horns that curved backward, and his eyes burned with an unnatural yellow fire. 

The cultists screamed in panic, some falling to their knees while others scrambled to prepare their magic. 

"The blasphemer!" one cultist shrieked, pointing at the masked woman. 

"She has brought the cursed light!" another shouted, his voice trembling as he clutched his flaming talisman. 

The leader snarled, slamming the Codex shut. "How DARE you defile this sacred place?! We will not be exposed to the light!" 

The masked woman stepped forward, her voice cold and mocking. "You worship the Sun-Drake, yet you fear his power. Why try to reign with him when you're terrified of what he brings?" 

Her words struck a chord of terror. The cultists screamed as the light from the shattered ceiling grew brighter. Their robes began to smolder, and their talismans cracked under the strain of the energy. 

"No! No, we mustn't be exposed!" one cultist shrieked, clawing at his own face. 

"I don't want to become one of them!" another screamed, his voice breaking. 

The leader's voice boomed. "HOLD YOUR GROUND! WE ARE THE CHOSEN! THE FLAME WILL PURIFY US!" 

But it was too late. 

The cultists began to writhe and scream as their bodies twisted and contorted. Their heads burst into literal flaming suns, their features consumed by fire. Their screams turned into guttural roars as they clawed at their own flesh, flames erupting from their mouths and eyes. The transformation was grotesque, their humanity burned away as they became Berserkers of the Flame. 

"Sun-Drake, SAVE US!" one Berserker howled, its voice distorted and inhuman. 

"We sacrificed for you! We BURNED for you!" another screamed as flames burst from its chest. 

The Berserkers turned on each other in a frenzy, their minds consumed by the eternal flame. The room descended into chaos as they tore each other apart. 

One Berserker lunged at a cultist who had not yet transformed, ripping his arm clean off. Blood sprayed across the pews as the cultist screamed, his talisman shattering as he succumbed to the flames. 

Another Berserker tackled a fellow creature, its flaming head smashing into its chest. The impact sent a wave of fire cascading outward, incinerating a nearby row of pews and the cultists sitting there. 

A third Berserker grabbed a cultist by the face, its molten claws melting flesh and bone. The cultist's scream was cut short as his head was reduced to a charred stump. 

Flaming blood splattered across the walls as the Berserkers tore each other limb from limb. One ripped a ribcage open with its bare hands, flames pouring from the exposed cavity. Another smashed through a pile of bodies, its flaming fists pulverizing flesh and bone into ash. 

The sanctuary became a slaughterhouse of fire and blood, the air thick with the stench of burning meat and molten metal. 

When the chaos finally subsided, the sanctuary was deathly quiet. The floor was littered with charred bodies, pools of blood boiling where they mixed with flames. The air shimmered with heat, and the only sound was the faint crackle of dying fire. 

The masked woman walked through the carnage, her boots crunching over ash and bone. Her dark cloak trailed behind her, and Salazar followed, his demonic form casting a long shadow over the destruction. 

At the center of the room, the cult leader's body lay impaled on a jagged branch of one of the rotted trees. The branch was black and gnarled, its surface pulsing faintly with unnatural energy. 

The masked woman reached out, her gloved hand gripping the branch. With a sharp tug, she pulled it free from the cult leader's chest. Blood oozed from the wound as she inspected the branch, her head tilting slightly as if in thought. 

The sound of a door creaking open echoed through the sanctuary. 

Xyenn, Yuuna, and Gorran stepped through the front entrance, their eyes widening at the scene before them. Blood, ash, and fire painted the room in a gruesome display. 

Yuuna smiled brightly, her pink eyes locking onto the masked woman. "Parcyyyyy," she said in a sing-song voice. 

The masked woman and Salazar turned to face them.