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

Chapter 56: The Lightbringer's Burden

The ashes of Ashvale clung to Jean's cloak as she walked alone through the ruined Brimehold square. The battle was over. The Smelterborn was slain. But victory brought no triumph—only questions.

Why had the construct carried a Celestial rune?

Iriah joined her in silence, her silver eyes reflecting the moonlight. In her hand was the shard Jean had carved from the creature's core—a fragment pulsing with unnatural warmth.

> "This rune," Iriah said, "was divine once. Corrupted by something older than flame."

"They're twisting the gods' will."

Back in Luther Stronghold, the Council of Emissaries was called.

For the first time in centuries, emissaries of the gods gathered in one chamber:

Tarek Voss, Emissary of Stone, flanked by his granite-laced serpent

Elandra Virelle, Emissary of the Sea, her voice like a storm's whisper

Maeric Thorne, Emissary of Wind, calm and unreadable

And others whose powers traced forgotten pantheons

The chamber fell silent as Jean placed the rune fragment upon the central altar.

> "Antares is no longer waiting for his wounds to heal," she said. "He's reaching. Infecting. Twisting the divine to serve him."

Only Maeric asked the true question.

> "There isn't one. We are the plan."

Later, in the solitude of the sanctum beneath her chambers, Jean knelt before the statue of Celeste. The divine wolf, Whitney, sat beside her, tail curled protectively. A beam of pale light streamed from the vaulted ceiling onto Jean's brow.

And in that moment—Celeste answered.

Her voice was neither thunder nor whisper, but the sound of truth cutting through darkness:

> "You carry more than the Luther name now, Jean. You carry hope."

The burden was growing. But her will remained unbroken.

She rose slowly and unsheathed Eclipsion.

> "Then let hope be sharp," she whispered.

CHAPTER 56.