Fiendhunter

**"The spiral ascent culminated in a sepulchral chamber.** Bai Lang's medallion quivered before the central sarcophagus, its lid scarred by generations of claw marks. Moonlight bled through arrow slits, illuminating scattered femurs and ribcages—testaments to failed exorcisms. 

The coffin lid shrieked. A putrid arm emerged, talons gleaming like quicksilver. The creature unfolded itself with arachnid grace, milky eyes tracking the witcher's every breath. 

**"Not blood curse,"** Bai Lang murmured, noting the albine hair matted with grave mold. **"But what devours both flesh and spirit?"** 

Footfalls shattered the stalemate. Prince Adern burst in, sword raised—only to freeze as the abomination croaked his name. **"Kyaeth?"** 

The creature recoiled, membranous wings unfurling to vanish through stained glass. Adern's fist connected with Bai Lang's jaw before the witcher's Yrden could dissipate. 

**"What sorcery have you wrought upon her?"** the prince snarled, blood flecking his doublet. 

Their grapple ended with Adern wheezing on flagstones. **"She... culls only the wicked,"** he spat. **"Tax-collectors. Slave-traders. Those who sold me to Duvellian flesh markets."** 

Beneath the moat's reeking waters, their clandestine route revealed darker truths: a queen's sealed letter passed through servant hands, its wax seal bearing Foltest's viper crest. Bai Lang surfaced with the prince's collar in his grip, moonlight glinting on parchment still damp with conspiracy. 

**"Your sister feasts on rot to mend her flesh,"** the witcher observed. **"A ghoul-queen sustained by royal corruption. Tell me, princeling—does that make her executioner... or heir?"**