The city lord mansion, deep inside, outside the hidden chamber.
A lone figure stood guard in front of the tightly shut door to the hidden chamber, straight and still like a rock left out in a storm. It was the kind of stillness that made the whole place feel emptier around him.
It was Luther.
He wore black from head to toe. His face had gone pale, drained of all color. Cold sweat covered his forehead in a fine layer, then slid down his cheeks and dripped to the ground. In his hand, he gripped the black wraith blade that had stayed with him for years.
His fingers had tightened so hard around the hilt it looked like he might crush it. His eyes stayed locked on the golden warship in the sky. Past that, they fixed on the army of the Celestial Palace spread across the heavens like it could blot everything out.
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