Samuel_Mafua_7207

Jean Luther – The youngest daughter of the powerful Luther Clan and the Emissary of Light, chosen by the goddess Celeste. After graduating from the prestigious Luther Academy as a Master-ranked swordsman, she is sent on a compulsory two-year assessment to qualify as an Envoy Knight, the elite warrior order of the Luther Clan composed of Transcendent Masters. Upon her return, she must take part in a brutal Succession War to determine the next Patriarch of the clan. With her divine guardian, the dire wolf Whitney, Jean sets out to become the strongest swordsman in the world.

EMISSARY OF LIGHT: CHRONICLE OF JEAN LUTHER

The Ashvale Marches had once been serene.

Rolling green hills. Quiet stone villages nestled in the cliffs. A land of old stories and older gods. Now, smoke curled into the sky like black thorns, and the wind carried screams instead of song.

Jean's vanguard approached the region's heart under cover of storm clouds. Mounted Envoy Knights flanked her—thirty Transcendent Masters, each capable of leveling a city. Whitney led the front alongside Raegar Durin, who now bore dragonbone plate across his chest.

Eclipsion sheathed at her back. Her steps were steady, deliberate—each one igniting a faint shimmer of golden aura beneath her feet. Her presence alone pushed back the smoke. Light rose around her like dawn refusing to die.

They reached the gates of Brimehold, once a thriving town—now a ruin of cinders.

And from the molten shadows emerged The Smelterborn.

Not a dragon in form—but a Wyrm Construct, born of draconic will and shaped by volcanic iron. Its mouth glowed with inner magma. Horns twisted from its shoulders like black steel, and from its chest, a glowing rune pulsed with unnatural rhythm.

> "He watches through me. Antares sees your path, daughter of light."

"You'll carry back a message, then," she said.

The Smelterborn roared—and charged.

The knights moved in formation, aura blades drawn, clashing against molten claws and eruptions of living fire. Raegar's warhammer struck the creature's limbs with seismic force, while Whitney tore through its summoned flame hounds like a ghost of the wild.

Light enveloped her. She whispered an invocation in Celestial—the Third Prayer of Radiance—and Eclipsion responded. The sword's glow outshone the inferno, its blade cutting through smoke and ash with divine precision.

And when she struck the creature's core rune—

A geyser of flame erupted skyward as the construct let out a screech that echoed into other planes. The rune splintered. The creature buckled.

Jean landed in the crater left behind.

That night, the survivors of Brimehold emerged from their shelters, blinking into the light. Jean met each of them—not as a warrior, but as a protector. They wept. They bowed. They whispered a name not heard in centuries outside of legend:

Far away, across oceans of flame and time, Antares stirred in his sleep.

CHAPTER 55.