Chapter 8: The Executioners' Descent

The air in the underground corridors felt heavier now.

Aetheron stared at the man before him—this former fugitive of the High Inquisition, this living warning of what awaited him. His mind raced, processing the weight of the revelation.

The Devourer's Bloodline was never meant to exist.

And now that he had revealed it, forces beyond his understanding had begun to move.

Selene's voice cut through the silence. "What do they want?"

The man's gaze flickered toward her. "They don't just kill. They erase. People, histories, bloodlines—everything connected to an anomaly like you." His voice dropped to a whisper. "Once they mark you, it's as if you never existed."

Aetheron's fists clenched. A cold anger burned beneath his skin. He had spent years in obscurity, keeping his true nature hidden, suppressing the power that now screamed to be unleashed. And in a single battle, everything had changed.

But that wasn't the worst part.

The worst part was the feeling.

Not fear.

Excitement.

Because for the first time in his life, he wasn't running from the unknown.

He was facing it head-on.

He turned his gaze back to the trembling man. "What's your name?"

A long silence. Then, the man exhaled. "Elias."

Aetheron nodded. "Then tell me, Elias—if they're coming, when will they arrive?"

Elias' lips parted—

And then the torches flickered violently.

A pulse of unnatural energy rippled through the air.

Selene reacted instantly, drawing her dagger, but Aetheron already knew.

They were here.

The Arrival of the Executioners

The underground corridors collapsed into darkness.

The torches that had lined the walls snuffed out all at once, as if swallowed by an unseen force. Aetheron's senses sharpened—something was pressing in on reality itself.

And then—a whisper.

"Devourer."

Aetheron turned sharply. The air in front of him rippled, like the surface of a disturbed lake, and from the void a figure stepped forward.

Cloaked in black.

A mask of silver.

And no presence—as if they did not exist at all.

Elias' breath hitched. "No… no, no, no…" His body shook as he stumbled back. "They sent a Shadow Cardinal…?"

Selene's grip tightened on her dagger. "What the hell is that?"

Elias barely managed to whisper, "A hunter beyond hunters…"

Aetheron stared at the figure.

The masked being stood motionless, the dim light reflecting off its metallic surface. And then—it spoke.

"Aetheron of the Devourer's Bloodline."

Its voice was neither male nor female. Just an empty, hollow resonance.

"Your existence is a violation of divine law."

Aetheron felt his pulse quicken.

This was different.

This was not a threat.

This was a sentence.

And the next moment, the figure moved.

The First Clash

It was instantaneous.

The Shadow Cardinal vanished—not like someone moving fast, but like someone who was never there to begin with.

Aetheron barely reacted in time.

Titan's Wrath roared through his body, accelerating his movements to inhuman levels. He twisted, dodging just as the masked figure appeared where he had stood—

A blade of absolute darkness carved through the air.

The walls behind Aetheron erupted, stone disintegrating as the blade touched reality itself.

Selene barely managed to pull Elias back as the sheer force of the strike tore through the corridor.

Aetheron's eyes burned.

"Too fast."

The Cardinal shifted again—its presence flickering, like a mirage, reappearing above him.

Aetheron gritted his teeth. No time to think.

His body moved on instinct.

Aetheron reached deep into the abilities he had stolen—into the power that was now his own.

And then—he unleashed it.

Devourer's Wrath

Aetheron's hands ignited with black lightning.

It wasn't natural. It wasn't magic. It was pure power, a fusion of Titan's Wrath and the void energies of his Devourer's Bloodline.

The air screamed as he swung upward.

The Cardinal reacted—too late.

Aetheron's strike connected.

The masked figure shattered backwards, the force of the impact launching it through the stone walls. Dust and debris exploded outward, but Aetheron didn't stop.

He moved.

Faster than thought.

The world blurred as he pursued his prey.

The Cardinal reappeared midair, stabilizing—but Aetheron was already upon it. He swung again, his black lightning twisting into a spear of destruction.

The Cardinal vanished once more.

But Aetheron had learned.

His instincts screamed—and he twisted.

His fist lashed out—connecting with something invisible.

The Cardinal reappeared—its body contorted in pain, its mask cracked.

And for the first time, Aetheron saw what lay behind the mask.

A human face.

But no expression.

No eyes.

Just emptiness.

The Cardinal trembled—then, it spoke.

"…Not yet."

And then—it vanished completely.

The Aftermath

Silence.

The battle had lasted seconds.

But the damage?

The underground corridors were in ruins. The once-stable tunnels now teetered on the edge of collapse, dust hanging in the air like a choking fog.

Selene coughed, stepping forward. "You just fought a goddamn executioner."

Elias, pale and shaking, looked at Aetheron with something between awe and terror. "They're going to send more."

Aetheron exhaled, feeling the lingering energy of the battle still thrumming in his veins.

He looked down at his hand—at the black lightning still crackling along his fingertips.

And then, he smiled.

"Let them come."