The forest never slept.
Even in silence, its roots hummed with the aftershocks of the shattered Nexus, the earth still trembling from the day heaven's chains had snapped. Shadows twitched between trees, and the wind reeked of blood and ash.
Ragnar sat slumped against a cracked boulder, his talons dim, his lungs rasping like bellows. Selene knelt opposite him, silver chains coiled around her broken arm, the glow of her curse eating away at her veins. For a moment just a single heartbeat they had the illusion of peace.
Then the torches came.
Dozens. Scores. A wall of orange light advancing through the underbrush, weaving between trunks like fire serpents. The stillness shattered beneath the march of boots, the snap of branches, and the cold rhythm of war drums that seemed to echo without sound.
Selene's silver eyes hardened. "Not hunters."
Ragnar's head tilted, senses sharpening as the air itself grew heavy, oppressive.
"They're Purge."
The name alone coiled like a blade against the throat. These weren't wandering mercenaries or greedy sect brats. This was the Heavens' hammer — executioners sanctioned by the higher sects, moving like a single will, their oath forged in annihilation. Once their eyes marked prey, they did not stop. Not until the ground was painted red.
The squad emerged from the trees, black-robed figures radiating killing intent so thick the air turned cold. At their head strode a cultivator whose aura pressed down like a storm, each step sinking the soil deeper.
His voice cracked the night.
"By decree of the Heavens, the Law Thief and the Silver Witch are condemned. Surround them."
The forest erupted. Figures darted into place, cutting off every path of retreat, their torches rising like pyres ready to burn.
Selene's breath caught, silver chains rattling as she forced them into shape. Her body trembled, curse gnawing her lifespan with every spark. Yet her chin did not bow. She was already prepared to bleed.
Ragnar rose slowly, shoulders squared despite the ache in his ribs, molten talons flickering back to life. His shadow unfurled behind him, stretching into wings that blanketed the clearing, swallowing the torchlight. The hunters flinched back a step, but only a step.
The Purge commander's eyes narrowed. "You dare resist?"
Ragnar said nothing. His claws flexed, the earth beneath them sizzling, glassing over from the Abyssal Blackfire within. The shadow whispered at his heels, a chorus only he could hear: Devour them. Break them. Show them trash can bite.
He turned slightly, gaze meeting Selene's. For a heartbeat, the chaos fell away.
"Selene."
Her silver eyes locked on his, sweat rolling down her temple.
He smirked through bloodied lips. "Ready to be monsters?"
Her chains flared, silver weaving into a net of burning light. She whispered back, steady as steel: "Always."
The forest shuddered. The night ignited.
Fire and silver ripped through the clearing as the Purge Unit surged forward, blades flashing, chants rising to the heavens.
Shadows roared back, devouring torches, warping the light into a storm of black flame.
The Law Thief and the Silver Witch stood back to back, hunted by the world itself.
And yet, in that moment, they looked less like prey…
and more like predators.