The clearing fell quiet again.
Too quiet.
Four bodies lay scattered across the sanctuary’s roots, silver armor cracked and dimmed.
The lightning symbols etched into their chest plates had gone dark, their divine connection severed the moment the hunters died.
Azrael leaned heavily against Quinn, breathing slowly as the system’s healing worked through his battered body.
Health: 52/120
Mana: 61/220
Stamina: 108/170
The warmth of the level-up still pulsed through his veins, mending torn muscle and sealing shallow wounds.
But the deeper exhaustion remained.
Lyra crouched beside one of the fallen hunters, examining the armor with a careful hand.
“They came prepared,” she said quietly.
Azrael glanced over.
“Prepared for me?”
“For anything unusual,” she replied. “Storm Tribunal hunt
