The Heavenly Demon of Terror

Samuel's POV

Blackridge Summit – Before the Descent

The clouds whispered our names.

Beside me, 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 memory, his name, 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."