Leon sat slouched in a high-backed chair in the opulent conference room of the hotel where Eldorin stayed. The faint ticking of the antique clock on the wall was the only sound that broke the heavy silence.
Fatigue weighed down his limbs like iron shackles, but not merely physical exhaustion gripped him— the haunting replay of last night's battle refused to leave his thoughts.
They had moved under the cover of darkness, striking swiftly at the two branches of the Demon Cult they had uncovered after weeks of surveillance. It was supposed to be a coordinated purge—clean, calculated, final.
But fate had other plans.
Midway through the assault on the second compound, a presence descended upon them like a shadow blotting out the stars.
Samael, the Apostle of Chaos, had emerged without warning. His appearance shattered their plans and their morale in an instant.
Samael did not fight like a man—he annihilated like a god.
