To them, anyone powerful was an Immortal. Anyone who could save them was a living saint.
"Thank you for saving all of us, Your Excellency. Please, accept our bows once more."
"Thank you, Your Excellency."
"Thank you for your protection, Your Excellency."
"I'm leaving."
Celeste Grant waved, and her sword shot into the air with a WHOOSH. She flew up, landed on the blade, and vanished in an instant.
From that day on, the image of Celeste Grant remained etched in their hearts...
Celeste Grant returned to Bloodfiend City that night. She flew over the city, heading straight for the heart of the Bloodfiend Den.
The Bloodfiend Den at night was just as it had always been—a blood moon hung in the sky, and the dancing shadows of the surrounding trees created a gloomy, eerie scene. Anyone who didn't know better would think they'd stumbled into The Ghoul's Maw.
'It's a little late. I wonder if my son is asleep yet.'
The moment Celeste Grant returned,
