Samuel's POV
Blackridge Summit – Before the Descent
The clouds whispered our nas.
Beside , Henry stood silent — arms folded, his cloak fluttering in the bitter wind. The Divine Executioner himself. His silver eyes scanned the distant horizon where Owen's aura flared like a dying star fighting to reignite.
"He's accelerating," Henry muttered. "Leveling faster than we ever did."
I nodded, not surprised.
"Owen's drive isn't just to survive," I said, voice even. "He's fighting to reclaim everything they stole — his mother's mory, his na, his blood. That kind of rage sharpens quickly."
Henry exhaled through his nose, but the tension in his shoulders never eased.
"Do we assist him?" he asked at last. "If the Tyrant manifests early, even Owen might not be enough yet."
I turned my gaze to the far-off city lights — to the ripple of power pulsing faintly in the distance. My eyes flared red for a breath.
"No," I said. "We don't interfere."
Henry tilted his head. "Even if he bleeds?"
"If he bleeds," I said, "he learns."
My voice dropped lower — firr.
"No gods interfered when Abigail brought to my knees. No one saved you when Katerina turned on you at the altar. And Owen... won't need a savior either."
Henry looked at long, then smirked faintly.
"But if things spiral out of hand?"
I cracked my knuckles, smiling with an edge of fire.
"Then we don't step in as protectors."
I glanced sideways at him.
"We descend as the Final Judgent."
Henry's smirk widened. "Still dramatic as hell."
"Only when it's worth it."
We stood in silence again, the wind cold, the stars watching.
Owen's battle was his own.
But behind the curtain — in the shadows between fate and fury — two monsters waited.
Just in case the next king needed a reminder of what ca before.
________________________________________
Owen's POV
Undisclosed Safehouse – Night Before the Hunt
The night air felt thick with tension. The kind of silence that cos before a storm — the world itself holding its breath.
I stood by the window of the safehouse, watching the faint orange glow of streetlights stretch across the asphalt like threads of fate. My fingers curled around the edge of the windowpane.
Main Quest: Face the Alpha Tyrant.
A week left. Maybe less. The system wouldn't say. But the feeling in my bones told the countdown was already bleeding faster.
I'm close.
I could feel it — the edge. The line that separates prey from predator. Humanity from sothing... more.
My fingers clenched.
"I'm not doing this for revenge anymore," I muttered, voice low. "This is about reclaiming what was stolen. My mother's na. The truth behind Yates fortune. The shadow Willam cast over everyone I cared about."
The system pulsed faintly in the corner of my vision.
----
[Quest Reminder: Defeat the Alpha Tyrant]
Threat: Cataclysm-Class Beast
Estimated Power: Rank S
Terrain: Unknown – Will shift across multiple battlefields.
Recomnded Action: Prepare... or perish.
----
I smirked. "Cute."
I turned from the window, grabbing my weapons — the Beast Claws fused with Tyrant bone and charged with voltage from my last kill. My coat slid over my shoulders like armor. The mask clipped into place.
But sothing tugged at my instincts.
That primal whisper at the base of the skull.
I paused. Looked toward the distant mountains.
"...Soone's watching ."
Faint. Two pulses.
Old. Strong. One felt like quiet fury, wrapped in discipline. The other — sheer surgical coldness.
My jaw tensed.
"...Samuel and Henry," I muttered, narrowing my eyes.
Not interfering... yet.
"Watching to see if I fall or rise."
I cracked my neck and rolled my shoulders, beast-blood humming beneath my skin like a song of war.
"Then watch closely."
I grabbed my holomap and opened the coordinates for the Alpha Tyrant's expected path. My next destination blinked in red.
Serenity Crater. Ground zero of the first collapse.
I smiled darkly, eyes glowing gold behind the mask.
"Let's begin."
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