Kael had been genuinely happy to sleep outside the academy for once. At least this way, he wouldn't be dragged into early morning training and could enjoy a few extra hours of precious sleep.
But of course, his simple dream was shattered—utterly and completely—by the ever-graceful maid. Just as the sun hinted at rising, she woke him at six sharp. Unlike Elmyra, though, she had the decency to offer him breakfast. Not only that, but she even escorted him by carriage to the training grounds, ensuring he wouldn't slip away to nap elsewhere.
She bowed politely as she dropped him off. Kael sighed and walked toward Mousan and Elmyra, who were already seated and preparing.
But something felt… off.
Mousan, who was normally the loudest complainer at sunrise, was oddly quiet. He didn't even glance up. Kael frowned, slowing his steps.
"Good morning, Mousan, Elmyra," Kael greeted.
Elmyra smiled gently. "Good morning, Kael. I hope you slept well last night."
Kael froze.
Elmyra… smiling?
His gaze shifted warily toward Mousan, who hadn't responded. He was simply staring at his sword. A pit formed in Kael's stomach.
'This isn't right… Possession? Some kind of spirit?'
Without another word, Kael turned toward the weapons rack, picked up a sword, and drew it. He didn't lower it as he returned.
Please let me be wrong, he thought.
Mousan stood and began to swing his sword in wide arcs, while Elmyra—Elmyra of all people—sat humming a tune as if she had no care in the world.
Kael's grip tightened. Every warning in his body was screaming.
"Mousan," Kael said, raising his sword, "what's going on?"
Mousan looked up at him with an emotionless stare, opening his mouth as if to speak. That was enough for Kael. His instincts took over.
He activated his power bloodline—two threads to his right leg, two to his left arm.
'Forgive me…. Mousan.'
Kael dashed forward with explosive speed, sword aimed for Mousan's throat.
But Mousan vanished.
Instantly, he was beside Elmyra.
Elmyra flinched, shouting, "Kael! What are you doing?!"
'Damn it, Kaldras speed bloodline,' Kael cursed internally. 'Now I have to fight both of them… and they both have that speed.'
He hadn't yet unraveled the threads of the Kaldras family's speed bloodline, and the only one he could rely on was the power bloodline he inherited from the Warden—an impure, barely stable version.
Still, he had something they didn't. He had memories. He had seen battle. He had learned the path of the Silent Dancer, and even without abilities, he could kill. Fast didn't mean invincible.
And beyond that… he had the Black Blood—whatever it truly was.
Kael narrowed his eyes. The transformation had already begun.
Elmyra's skin had peeled in patches, revealing dark red flesh beneath. Her frame stretched to more than two and a half meters. Her arms dragged behind her like monstrous limbs, claws scraping the stone.
Mousan stood beside her, now barely a meter and a half tall, his body covered in fur, his face beastlike. He had four arms, each wielding a sword.
Their eyes burned with hunger. And rage.
Kael lowered his head, his heart pounding. A haze clouded his vision.
'Why… why is this happening?' His fists trembled.
He wiped his eyes and stepped forward slowly.
Then his gaze hardened. His eyes burned like twin embers, and it was as though a monster now stood in his place.
He charged—But they were already gone.
He spun, sensing something behind him—Elmyra. Her twisted smile was inches from his face, and her clawed hand swung like a blade toward his back.
He raised his sword just in time.
Clang!
It felt like iron smashing iron. Her hand was harder than steel.
Boom!
Kael was hurled across the courtyard, slamming into the gate with bone-crushing force. His sword shattered in his grip, and his ribs cracked.
But he didn't feel fear. Not even pain.
All he felt… was rage.
They would die today.
And whoever did this to them—he would follow them to the ends of the world.
He dropped the broken sword.
Raising his right hand, darkness began to ooze slowly from his skin, sliding over his arm and solidifying into a pure, black blade.
A dense black armor formed across his body, tougher than steel, enveloping him from neck to toe. His veins pulsed with dark energy beneath his skin.
His broken bones snapped back into place. His hair turned pitch black, darker than night itself.
His eyes—red as blood—burned with fury, and buried deep within them, sorrow.
He looked at Elmyra.
And vanished.
In an instant, he was behind her. Even her monstrous face twisted in shock. She hadn't even seen him move.
The speed of Kaldras bloodline couldn't comprehend what had just happened.
Expressionless, Kael slashed his shining black sword toward her.
She raised her monstrous arm—but it was no use.
The arm that had crushed his sword before was cleaved through like paper.
Elmyra was sent flying, crashing into the wall, blood exploding from her mouth.
Kael didn't pause.
Mousan appeared beside him, attempting to land a kick.
Kael glanced at him—just a glance.
Mousan hesitated. Even in his monstrous form… he flinched.
Kael caught his leg.
And then… black tendrils erupted from Kael's hand, wrapping around Mousan's limb, trying to consume it.
With a roar, Kael began to slam Mousan into the ground, again and again. Blood splattered in every direction.
The darkness continued to spread, crawling up Mousan's leg.
Kael's rage hadn't faded. If anything, it had only just begun.
He was going to consume the beast.
All of it.