The city whispered of rebellion.
Kael’s followers, nine now bound by blood, spread into the streets like shadows. They whispered in taverns. They whispered in markets. They whispered in alleys where guards rarely went. The Devil’s Mark was no longer just fear. It was a promise.
And promises had weight.
But while the people whispered of Kael, others whispered of something else. Something older. Something that moved in the silence above even the Devil’s name.
The Watchers had stirred.
---
That night, the moon hung pale and thin, a silver blade in the sky.
Kael stood on the rooftop of the warehouse, cloak heavy, crimson eyes sweeping the city. The glow of torches lit the barracks in the distance. Patrols had doubled since the m******e, soldiers pacing like caged beasts. And yet, despit
