Several weeks after the battle in the skies above Nocture, the world seemed to hold its breath.
News of the ten six-winged angels who died within minutes spread like an unstoppable black mist. Merchants carried the tale southward, dwarf caravans whispered it northward, and even the monsters in the central valleys seemed to avoid Nocture as if they knew something far more terrifying lurked within. The rumor grew larger with every retelling: "The Queen of Death didn't even need to move… just her two sisters alone wiped out ten holy angels in an instant." "She didn't even use her full power." "Nocture is no longer a city… it's a graveyard for arrogant gods."
