The White Tower burned behind him.
Black smoke spiraled upward, mingling with the pale clouds that hung over the battlefield like a shroud. Seth walked through the ruins, his cloak torn, his face shadowed beneath the blood-streaked hood. Each step left faint scorch marks on the shattered marble.
He had survived. But the price of that survival had already begun to unfold.
From the moment the Tower’s barrier fell, the world knew. The Tower System had broadcast it—every battle, every transformation, every word. The identity of the Harbinger of Hell was no longer a secret whispered in shadows. It was fact, etched into the minds of every living Harbinger across the continent.
And they were coming.
The air trembled. Seth’s hand twitched toward his blade just as ripples of mana surged throug
