Sons of a devil

The sky above the mountain turned a brilliant shade of gold as the sun slowly rose, casting long shadows behind the worn group making their way down the narrow path. Their footsteps were heavy but sure. They had survived demons, betrayal, possession, and grief—and now, they were going home.

Back to the village.

Back to reclaim what was once theirs.

Cain led them, his eyes steady on the road ahead, the weight of leadership resting heavier on his shoulders than ever before. Beside him, Selene walked quietly, still nursing the dull ache in her limbs from the final fight. But more than that, she was watching him—watching all of them—like she could feel the wind beginning to shift.

Behind them, Leo and Eren laughed quietly over an old memory of the village market, their conversation slipping in and out of whispers. Even Eira—reborn but still touched by darkness—walked with them, her presence quieter now, the shadows of her mind kept in check. At the back, Neriah and their father followed, his steps weaker but growing stronger by the hour, his eyes full of emotion he hadn't spoken aloud yet.

The trees thinned, and the familiar outline of their village slowly came into view.

Cain stopped at the ridge above, the others gathering beside him. Below them was the land they had once called home—a village now overrun by false rulers, imposters who had feasted on the bloodline's disappearance like vultures on a battlefield.

But now, the bloodline was back.

And they weren't asking for permission.

Cain breathed in deeply and spoke without looking away. "We go in at nightfall. Quiet first. Let them think we've returned in peace."

"They won't," Leo said. "They'll see our faces and try to burn the whole forest down."