A dead city lies silent beneath a crimson sky, every soul stripped away by a Deviltry that should have been impossible. Sent by the Accord, Parsival and the Brotherhood begin hunting the corruption as it spreads across the realm, leaving twisted bodies, broken magic, and trails of ancient power in its wake.
Their pursuit draws them into battles shaped by an unseen hand, each encounter revealing pieces of a design older than the gods themselves. Shadows move ahead of them with intent, opening the boundary between life and death and turning the fallen into something that should not rise.
To protect the realm, Parsival must decide who he trusts. The gods who command him, the warriors who follow him, or the truth clawing its way out from beneath the earth. The Weave is fraying, the dead remember, and something buried has begun to rise.