The golden light still burned in the air, pressing back the darkness. The villagers stared, breathless, as the towering figure of the Village Deity turned his gaze upon them. His eyes seemed older than the mountains, yet unshaken by the shadows that had just threatened to swallow the land.
"People of Zemura," his voice rolled like distant thunder, each word heavy with divine finality, "this was only the first strike. The Demon God is not gone—only driven back. To destroy him completely, and to keep your home safe, someone is coming."
Murmurs broke out among the villagers, fear lacing every voice. Mothers clutched children closer. Elders bowed their heads.
Kin swallowed hard, calling out, "Who? Who is coming?"
The deity's gaze shifted toward him, but it was as if he looked far beyond Kin—into a future none of them could see. "You will know when they arrive. And when they do… do not reject them, no matter what they are. No matter how they appear."
Vixen's eyes narrowed. "That's all you're telling us?"
The deity's expression did not change. "Be ready. They are already on their way."
The light around him flared, brighter than the moon, forcing the villagers to shield their eyes. His body dissolved into streaks of molten gold that spiraled upward, vanishing into the clouds.
The night returned to its cold silver glow, but his words remained like a pulse in the air—unshakable, inevitable.
Far beyond the borders of Zemura, in the shadow of a dead forest, a lone figure walked toward the village. The wind carried the echo of the deity's prophecy, and the figure smiled without warmth.
They were coming.
Continue...