A group of black-robed figures approached him cautiously. Not Hunters. Not soldiers.
Cultists.
"Lord Tenebris," their leader said, bowing. "We are the last Children of Ruin. We've waited for your return."
He didn't speak.
The leader trembled. "The world betrayed you. But we remained faithful. We—"
"Your ancestors built the chains that bound me," Vaeren interrupted. "And now you wear my name like a badge?"
He raised a hand.
The leader screamed — not in pain, but in guilt. His soul boiled.
The others fell to their knees.
"Mercy, my lord—!"
"Mercy is for those who never turned."
He let only one live. A girl — maybe seventeen. Eyes filled with wonder, not fear.
She didn't speak. She only watched him, fascinated.
He studied her.
"You're not loyal," he said. "You're curious."
"Yes," she whispered. "You're… more than legend."
He almost smiled. Almost.
"You may follow. For now."
He turned, cloak rising in black wind.
"The world will remember me, girl. But not as a myth. As a warning."