Sage Yeltz stopped at another residential dwelling, where an explosion had left it leaning drunkenly against its neighbouring units.

  It was on fire, burning red with mana, and threatening to spread its wisps of terror throughout the streets.

  Clearly these bombs were a nuiscence.

  Sage Yeltz flicked her wand, creating a tsunami of mana infused water vapour nearly 5 stories tall to smother the entire house in one go.

  The flames fought back, fiercely flickering and struggling against the wall of thin white mist. However, it lost its vigour within seconds, its once passionate inferno diminished to embers, then into nothing at all.

  Explosions were still rocking the city from all around, roaring and rumbling in the background like the stomach of a giant monster. And the screams and panic coating this cacophony added a tangible texture of chaos to the evening.

  All around the sage, civilians ran like lost sheep towards the designated shelters located around the city.

  Occasionally, adventurers could be seen smashing their charms, helping the commission mages to move the rubble and rescue efforts.

  The evacuees would each eventually be teleported to a Commission facility from these shelters in the following few hours, supported by the stream of commission mages arriving from all over the continents.

  Higher ranked mage teams would also assist with putting out the fires with their magic.

  Other commission mages were spread around the block, most looking as horrified and lost as the civilians who ran all around the scenes of carnage. They assisted with clearing rubble off the streets, and guiding civilians to the respective shelters.

  Many of them likely had family and friends in the city. And some of the squad members were missing, apparently having rushed to protect or check on their own families.

  Sage Yeltz would punish them later.

  The sage’s vapours reached out like tendrils, slipping into the cracks and crevices of the rubble, condensing into liquid in the process as it searched the building.

  They moved with purpose, as if they knew where to go.

  Their certainty was a result of the sage’s simple divinations, allowing her to precisely locate the survivors of the explosion, and of course, corpses.

  When all tendrils had made contact with the survivors, the sage simply snapped her fingers, teleporting all survivors to the respective churches for injuries to be treated.

  The corpses, on the other hand, were teleported right outside the building, arranged neatly in a row, leaned against the damaged walls of the falling building.

  With another flick of her wand, the sage created thin pillars of mana infused ice, one that erected throughout the structure to bind and support it from collapse, at least for a little while longer.

  The sage stared for a few seconds at the dozen corpses laid out in front of her.

  Many were charred, some had limbs blown off, and others looked almost alive, a result of carbon monoxide poisoning. Blood seeped slowly into the ground from the stumps where limbs used to be, staining the road with misery.

  Each face was contorted in pain, and fear, seemingly unable to come to terms with their own deaths. The sage could make out the metal emblems of the Churches stuck to the flesh of a few of them, leaving burn marks to the skin, and mocking their faith.

  It was a horrific sight even for the sage.

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  With a stony face, the sage snapped her fingers, and teleported to mid-air, nearly 50 meters off the ground.

  Forming a round sheet of mana infused ice beneath her feet, she channeled mana to keep afloat.

  From her vantage point, she could see the sporadic, nonsensical pattern of bombings all over the city, the thick black smoke clouding the encroaching evening sky.

  If she wanted to, she could likely put out all of the fires of the entire southern district with a display of her best magic, where she was located.

  It would be a weather spell, where she would evaporate the entire water contents of her vicinity, and infuse them with mana to create a massive rainstorm capable of putting out the magic fires.

  However, it was mana-inefficient given the area she had to cover, and the sporadic nature of the bombings would make it difficult for her to be able to respond continuously to the attacks following her massive spell.

  Additionally, it would likely be detrimental to the current magic being channeled at the Commission Tower, disrupting the focusing of mana.

  And yet, it was frustrating for the sage to feel so useless. People were dying, and getting hurt, yet she was unable to save all of them. What was the point of sagehood if she was unable to respond to some stupid bombs?

  Her eyes twitched as another explosion went off in the distance, spewing black smoke into the air with a flash of red.

  Clearly, whoever orchestrated this had cast incredible counter-divination spells, given that the massive attack itself had gone nearly unnoticed by the diviners in both the Commission and the Caelestis House.

  “Updates on the ritual?” The sage asked through gritted teeth, teleporting to another house, this time bearing the heat from the roof.

  The pain made her feel more focused, and sharpened her anger.

  “We have all available Magisters and Archmages working on it ma’am. There should be enough mana running through the Tower in another 30 minutes.” A voice responded through the spirit realm.

  It was one of her subordinates in the control centre, where diviners and non-mages worked to deploy personnel and respond to crises.

  The sage’s face turned even stormier. Those cucks were definitely taking a longer route with their damn ritual. It should take less than 10!

  “Do it in 20. Or I will personally intervene.” The sage spat, disgusted with the Commission’s lacklustre urgency.

  “...Err…” The operator responded uncertainly, unsure if she should listen to the sage or protocol.

  “I will personally take responsibility! Do it in 20. We have 2 Archsages deployed already. If they can’t stop whatever threats surface, we’re all fucked anyway.” The sage barked exasperatedly.

  With another massive tsunami of vapour, the fire beneath her feet were extinguished, and the sage snapped her fingers angrily again, teleporting another batch of survivors and dead to their respective locations.

  “...Noted. We will relay your command.” The operator agreed, understanding the sage’s position within the Commission hierarchy.

  “And will you send me Tona? He should be done evacuating his bloody wife from this stupid place. Promise him a bonus of some kind for it. My damned master should know more than me that he has work to do right now.” The sage hissed.

  It hardly mattered that the former sage was a contract employee. Everyone had to do their bloody part to take care of this crisis!

  “Mr. Wally Tona… Please hold.” The operator mused, leaving the sage in silence.

  The sage had put out another two fires when they returned with strange news.

  “Err.. Ma’am. It seems that Mr. Wally Tona is… no longer in the employment of the Commission. The contract has been terminated… He is… unreachable.” The operator relayed hesitantly, unsure of the significance of the news.

  “...” Sage Yeltz was stunned into silence.

  Then a realisation dawned on her.

  “...When did the contract terminate?” The sage asked urgently, practically yelling into the spirit realm.

  “...Approximately 8 minutes ago.” The operator replied.

  “Fuck.” The sage said simply.

  She now knew who was responsible for this mess.

  “Put me through to the 2 Archsages immediately.” Sage Yeltz barked urgently, hopping from house to house with a renewed vigor.

  The screams of pain and confusion still lined the streets, bringing with it a wave of anger and horror the sage’s heart.

  None of the powerful factions would do such things with no warning. Even the cults and their deranged interests aligned little with whatever was going on.

  If a sacrificial ritual of sorts were occurring in the city, the Commission would have already engaged in disruptive measures, and contracted angels of their own.

  The Royals lacked incentive to bomb their own citizens, and the churches were not even a militant faction to begin with.

  Only one group had the power, interests and the backing to commit to such a brazen attack.

  It was the damn fae. And they were after Aurelius Vennor.

  Tona had defected.

  “You’re on.” The operator informed the sage.

  “Ms. Livia, Mr. Andrew.” The sage yelled out, an unusual amount of desperation coating her voice.

  “It’s the Fae. They’re after the boy. Quetzalcoatl’s blessed.” The sage barked, putting out another fire with all the violence that her magic would allow her to...