The rain of soot fell silently over the burning ruins of Ironwood Street.
Grand Elder Wu lay pinned against the cold cobbles of the courtyard, his chest torn open by the barbed black bone blade of the mutated fiend.
Life was rapidly leaving his limbs, but his ancient eyes remained fixed on the dark sky above the burning archives.
"The law... does not die with my flesh," Wu whispered into the quiet night.
He pulled the remaining spark of his core vitality from his lower dantian, burning his life marrow to ignite the golden spiritual seal resting inside his sleeve.
A sharp, golden light flared beneath his blood soaked fingers, coalescing into the form of a small messenger hawk forged from pure, refined soul fire.
"Fly south, little bird," Wu rasped, his voice dropping into a final brea
