The morning sky burned gold.
It wasn’t sunny. It was divinity. From the peaks above Black Fang Sect, a halo of fire spread across the heavens, vast wings unfurling, their feathers shimmering with pure radiance.
The clouds parted like curtains before gods.
The Seraphic Hunters had come.
They descended in silence, half-divine warriors draped in white armor, halos burning above their heads, blades carved from holy scripture itself.
There were five of them, each radiating a power that made the mountain tremble.
At their center hovered a tall figure whose wings glowed faintly crimson, corrupted light.
The others called her Seraph Nerya, first of the divine hunters, executioner of heretics.
Her voice carried across the valley like the tolling of a thousand bells.
“Kael Draven. By dec
