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Chapter 17 – Wounds Without End
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Chapter 19 – Where Silence Kills
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... ied its wounds like offerings. Every step he took was soaked in old sorrow, his blood mixing with ash and memory. But the Death Core within him pulsed in rhythm, not with hunger, but with yearning—a subtle pull toward something unseen. It was not the call of vengeance or power.
It was the scent of a flower blooming in death.
Beneath the valley's surface, hidden beneath fractured stone and bone-bleached ruin, a passage revealed itself to him—not by sight, but by sensation. A whisp ...
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