Chapter 62

The rain pelted down with a cold fury, drenching the ashen rooftops of Gravemire. Lanterns flickered, casting ghostly shapes across the cobbled streets. In the silence of the moment, only the distant thunder echoed like a forgotten war drum. Elias stood at the edge of the Blackrose Alley, drenched but unfazed, his eyes glowing with that signature crimson that marked him as something more—something reborn.

He wasn't alone.

A cluster of figures loomed in the shadows behind him—hooded, eyes glinting with malice. The remaining Deathbinders, now sworn to Elias not merely through fear, but through a pact inked in blood and bound by the Devil's System.

Their leader stepped forward—Nerick the Hollowblade, a former necromancer who had once served the corrupt Lord Valdreth.

"I still don't understand why you spared him," Nerick rasped, his voice carrying the chill of grave soil. "Valdreth should have died screaming."