The night was heavy with mist, the air thick with the scent of blood. Kael stood in the ruins of an abandoned village, his katana dripping with dark ichor. Across from him, a hulking demon snarled, its elongated limbs twitching, sensing death approaching.

Kael exhaled, shifting his stance. His crimson eye pulsed faintly.

“You should’ve stayed in the shadows.”

The demon lunged, but before Kael could strike, a blur of black dropped between them. The intruder was small, draped in a cloak that melted into the darkness. A smooth, emotionless mask hid their face—only deep, piercing eyes glowed beneath the hood.

Kael’s grip on Voidfang tightened.

“You’re in my way.”

The masked hunter didn’t respond. Instead, they darted forward, their blade flashing—clean, precise, cutting deep into the demon’s flesh. It shrieked, staggering back.

Kael narrowed his eyes. This was his hunt. The kill was his.

He stepped forward, blade raised, voice low and sharp.

“Touch my prey again, and I’ll carve through you next.”