By late afternoon, the church dome had finally given way. The heavy bronze-and-gold structure crashed through the roof, dragging the upper timbers down with it. When it struck the interior, a column of sparks rose above the city and climbed high enough to be seen from every part of the camp.
Batu had issued the order earlier, back at the church square while Torghul was still waiting for an answer. The metal came first. The fire came after.
The engineers had spent the middle hours of the day stripping value from the structure. Icons, bronze fittings, silver plates from the interior walls. Anything useful had been removed before the torches were carried inside.
Now, as evening settled, the stone itself glowed orange along the lower walls.
Batu knew that kind of heat.
Once enough mass absorbed it, the temperature lingered. The fire above no longer mattered. The foundation would stay hot for at least two days.
