The world had not known fear like this in an age.
As Azrion stood unmoving, his cloak of darkness trailing into the air like liquid shadow, twelve burning streaks of divine light ripped through the heavens, descending like heavenly spears from the throne of the gods.
They were here.
The Divine Hunters.
Champions of celestial judgment. Enforcers of sacred law. Each one was born not of flesh or soul—but of divine intent. The moment they landed, the earth wept beneath their feet. Mountains bowed. Trees withered from their aura. Even time seemed hesitant to move.
Each Hunter wore armor forged from collapsed stars. Their helmets were faceless, glowing with radiant runes, and their weapons shimmered with pure law—justice turned into blades, spears, chains, and bows.
They formed a circle around Azrion.
Twelve points of light… against one shadow.
The lead hunter stepped forward. His voice echoed like divine thunder—layered with the voices of a thousand righteous warriors.
> "Azrion. You stand accused of disrupting the celestial order, corrupting the mortal realm, and threatening the balance of creation. By decree of the Supreme Council—"
Azrion interrupted him.
> "Balance?" he said, voice smooth as velvet and cold as death. "You speak of balance… when it was you who slaughtered my people. You who forged seals from my mother's dying breath. You who buried truth beneath your temples."
He turned his head slowly, eyes glowing with abyssal light.
> "Tell me… when the gods declared war upon the innocent, where was your balance then?"
None of the Hunters replied.
Kael, still deep within Azrion's soul, could feel it—the trembling. Not from Azrion. From them. These beings of absolute law, warriors who had faced calamities, were hesitating.
Because they had never faced something like this.
Because Azrion was not defying the gods.
He was the wrath of what the gods feared.
> "Engage," the lead Hunter commanded, though even his voice cracked.
Twelve flashes of divine energy erupted at once.
The air exploded. Sound vanished. Space folded as all twelve struck from different angles, divine weapons aimed at Azrion's heart, head, and soul.
For a moment, it looked like the battle was over before it began.
Then…
BOOM.
All twelve were thrown back—hard.
Six of them crashed into the distant mountains, turning cliffs to dust. One screamed as his weapon shattered in midair, disintegrated by an unseen force.
Azrion hadn't moved.
He hadn't blocked. He hadn't countered.
They were simply… rejected.
> "You cannot cut shadow with light," Azrion whispered.
One Hunter, braver than the rest, roared and charged again, his blade trailing divine fire. Azrion's eyes narrowed slightly.
He raised one finger.
One.
The charging Hunter froze in place. Mid-air. Mid-strike.
Then—
Snap.
His armor cracked. His weapon shattered. His body twisted in upon itself and vanished without a sound, erased from existence.
The other Hunters faltered.
> "This isn't… possible," one murmured. "He's sealed! He's supposed to be sealed!"
Azrion took a single step forward.
The ground beneath him split into glowing lines, ancient runes awakening as if the world itself was recognizing its master.
> "Go," he said, voice like judgment. "Tell your gods…"
> "Their end has already begun."