In front of one of the most powerful territories in the world, Ethan stood.
Beneath the twilight sky, the capital of silver banners and crystalline towers stretched across the land like a dream made real. The aura here was dense with life and power. The people within this territory—once proud, once untouchable—now watched in silence as an unknown figure approached their core.
He moved like a ghost made flesh. Quiet. Inevitable.
And before the gates of the inner sanctum stood Lady Seraphina.
Her flowing silver hair shimmered in the last rays of the sun, her pristine robes fluttering in the breeze. Her power was palpable, grace woven into destruction, strength masked behind elegance.
She was on one knee.
Not from custom. Not from fear. But from pure, suffocating pressure. The man standing in front of her was not the Ethan she had seen once in passing at the Tower's entrance. That man had strength, yes—but this one? He had purpose. He had hunger.
