The mid-day sweltering heat did not help the smell of the rotten flesh and oozing pus wafting in the air. Eferail managed to hide himself from the blistering heat in a empty shade on one of the alleyways of Sanatoria.

He cannot wait to get out of the festering hellhole he had hid himself into. But, unfortunately, his only clear exit is still out of sight. He already surveyed 3 blocks of death-infested houses, but the illusive drainage entrance is still yet to be seen.

The sickening miasma has completely overtaken the knight, along with the punishing heat that made his stomach to finally give up and hurl. It was at times like this he wished Tristam was with him since his Elemental Air Magic could prove useful during this situation. For now, he had to make do, and make do means sucking it all up until he finds his exit.

He sat on the dusty ground, exhausted after the vomiting. Eferail, put his back against the wall while scouring the satchel he tied around his belt. He counted his coins--he had 2 pieces of gold coins and 7 silver ingots.

It was still a huge amount all things considered. But that wasn't the important thing he was looking for. He shook the satchel hard and let out three pieces of wooden runes. One for fire, one for air and the other for light.

Every knight of the Principalia is given standard issue runes made by the Alchemists Society. The runes are basic elements sealed within a wood or a stone and is commonly used for either attacks or practical everyday use. Its convenient even for a knight like Eferail that has a high aptitude for elemental magic, because it saves them the use of their precious exousia.

Eferail regretted not bringing more runes than he should've had. He cursed under his breathe looking at the ones he had left. The runes might've been helpful for him in this situation--his escape.

In his desperation, he thought of going back to the same entrance he went in. It wasn't the best idea, but he thought about it. The only thing stopping him is the fact that the Mongrels have a keen sense of smell, and is possibly waiting for him at the other side of the wall.

Suddenly, he heard a ringing sound from the distance. People began going out of their houses, dragging along the bodies of people either dead or already dying. Curious, Eferail peeked out of the shade, and decided to watch from the distance, away from the crowd, to avoid getting their infection.

Two men clad from head to foot in black laminated leather and donning a crow mask made of ivory can be seen walking down the desolate street to the center square. He saw one of them ringing a bell, while the other was shouting out on the top of his lungs.

"Bring out your dead! Bring out your dead!"

The people began dragging the bodies to the center square, and threw it along the heaping corpses. When everyone had finally placed the bodies into the heap, another group of men, wearing the same clothes as the last two, walked into the city square.

They asked the people to stand back, as one of them draws a circle around the mount of bodies. When it was done, they began to douse the bodies with oil and alcohol. The six of them surrounded the mount taking a spot at the circle.

"Is this all the dead?" One of the masked men asked.

No one answered.

"Very well, we shall now commence." the masked man nodded to his cohorts.

The masked men drew some form of runes on the ground. All of a sudden, a huge kiln formed from the dusty ground containing all the bodies inside. Then, the leathered men began throwing fire runes in to the kiln, followed by one of them casting wind magic on the fire. After that they closed the kiln, leaving only smoke rising from its exhaust.

Eferail wanted to look away from the scene, but his eyes couldn't avert it. The smell of burning flesh and pus fouled the air. He had to cover his face to stop himself from inhaling the stench. The rest of the spectators, never reacted to it. They just stared at a kiln listening to the howling flames, while their dead burned inside.

The cold facade of the residents horrified Eferail. It was as if they already knew their fate. Their hopes had been stripped out from them, leaving them with despair that they welcomed openly. Sooner or later, it will be them at the kiln and there will be nothing they can do about it.

People started going back to their homes, as the fires went on until the Ifnen. Only the masked men were left at the center square, waiting patiently for the ordeal to end. When the smoke finally subsided, the kiln began to crumble back to the ground, only leaving a pile of ash.

Using water magic, the masked men washed all the ash down. Eferail carefully watched as the ash slowly drained into a sewer hole located in the center square. It was already sunset when the men finished cleaning the square. After discussing something, they left.

Eferail finally found his way out, all he needed to do now, is find a way to get out of there undetected. He tried crossing the adjacent street to see the view of the guard posts. He saw two from each side. Judging from the distance, it was about half and ildwyrm away from each other. That means, it would take time for the guards get to him if he attempted to get out.

Relieved with what he saw, Eferail went back to the corner where he rested and waited for the right hour to initiate his plan. He found it fitting to do it during the highest level of the Hour of Obscuros.

Now all he needed to do, is wait.