The town gates loomed ahead—timber and iron still weathered from the last monster tide. Kael stepped through them, his presence quiet but stirring ripples. Heads turned and conversations hushed.
The return of the boy they had buried in silence did not go unnoticed.
Whispers slithered like smoke.
"Isn't that Kael?"
"He went missing weeks ago..."
"I thought Tomas was the only one who didn't make it out."
"How is he alive?"
Kael ignored the stares. They didn't matter now.
He made a beeline through the cobbled streets, his worn cloak dragging the faint scent of fog and blood behind him. Every footstep felt heavier in the familiar silence. This wasn't just the town where he lived—it was the town that had already mourned him.
He crossed the main square and pushed open the tall, reinforced doors of the Hunter's Guild.
The familiar scent of woodsmoke, sweat, and steel greeted him.
Inside, more heads turned. More silence. The murmur of voices faded into startled recognition.
Kael didn't stop. He headed straight toward the reception counter—where a face he knew waited.
Layla.
She had been the only one in the guild who had ever bothered to call him by name. They'd only spoken twice, but he hadn't forgotten.
Layla's eyes widened in disbelief the moment she saw him. Her mouth parted slightly in shock—relief flickering behind her irises—but her professional mask returned quickly, though not fast enough to hide the skeptical glance that followed.
"Kael…?" Her voice trembled slightly.
He gave a nod. "I'm alright. Lucky, I guess."
Layla stood slowly, looking him over. "No serious injuries? How did you survive the Fogveil Ring?"
Kael exhaled. "I found a place to hide. Waited it out… killed what I had to." He didn't mention the chaos system. Not yet.
A flash of guilt crossed Layla's features, followed by a soft sigh. "The others… Varek, Lira, and Gareth—escaped, but barely. They're recovering at the town clinic."
"And Tomas?" Kael asked quietly, though his chest already tightened with dread.
Her expression faltered.
"He didn't make it."
Kael's heart dropped.
"He stalled a bit so the others could escape," Layla continued, her voice barely above a whisper. "When they returned without you… we assumed the worst. You were just a Flickering Soul, Kael. No one thought..."
She looked down, ashamed. "They didn't want to risk another party… not for someone with your potential. I'm sorry."
Kael swallowed the lump in his throat. "I understand," he murmured. And he did. It still hurt, but he understood.
She looked back up, grateful for the grace in his voice. "The town's on edge," she said quickly, shifting the topic. "The Fogveil is changing. The elders fear a monster tide is coming—worse than the last one.
"Thanks for the info." Kael nodded
He turned toward the far corner of the hall—the core trade desk—and approached the man stationed there. A burly guild worker with a thick beard and spectacles glanced up from his ledger.
"Morning," Kael greeted, voice steady.
The man raised a brow. "You're… polite," he said, almost startled. "Didn't expect that from a Soul Hunter, especially not a fresh one."
Kael offered a faint smile. "Name's Kael. Just want to trade some cores."
The man blinked. "Cores? You're not bluffing, kid?"
Kael reached into his pack and laid down a bundle wrapped in cloth. One by one, he unwrapped fifteen lesser Soul Beast cores, each glowing faintly with residual energy.
The receptionist's eyes widened. "You got all these in the Ring?"
Kael shrugged, He had even more that he kept for personal use.
"Well, damn. That's fifteen cores at twenty each. Lesser Beast cores usually go for fifteen Sols, but with the town on high alert, we're offering an extra five for every lesser core. That's… three hundred Sol in total." the receptionist continued.
Kael nodded, heart lifting just a little. It wasn't much, not compared to elite hunters, but for him… it was something. A taste of what survival could earn.
The man passed the coins over. Kael accepted them, fingers brushing the cool weight of currency. For a moment, he allowed himself to breathe.
He left the guild shortly after, stepping into the mid hours of the day. Hunger clawed at him—a gnawing reminder he'd been too busy surviving to eat like a person.
He made his way to the Silver Hearth Inn.
At the front desk, he exchanged twenty Sol for a three-day room stay. The cost bit into his earnings like a cold wind—but for once, he didn't feel poor. He felt... capable.
He ordered a meal next—a bowl of root-stew with flamecorn and braised stagbird, all locally produced, grown and raised by the farmers in the town.
It was the first real food he'd eaten in days.
He didn't savor it.
He devoured it.
The warmth spread through his chest, calming his racing thoughts. For a moment, he was just a boy eating dinner in a quiet town.
He rose from the table, intent on visiting the clinic… but at the door, a familiar voice rang out.
"Well, look who crawled back from the dead."
Kael turned.
Billy, Arrogant and loud, with a sneer always at the ready.
"You've got the luck of a rat, Kael," he grinned. "Heard you nearly died out there. You don't deserve the title Soul Hunter. Should've become a farmer."
Kael's eyes met his.
Something about Billy's tone hit different now—but Kael didn't have time for it.
He walked past him.
Billy moved to block the door.
Kael didn't slow.
With a single shove, he sent Billy staggering back several steps. The crowd gasped. Billy stared, stunned.
Kael didn't turn around.
Even Billy could tell—he wasn't the same. And he was already at the second rank.
At the town clinic, Kael quietly made his way to the room he was told Varek, Lira, and Gareth were resting in.
He entered.
The room was dimly lit, but the warmth was real. Bandages lined every arm. A few IV soul-dampeners dripped slowly above each bed.
"Kael?"
Lira sat up quickly, eyes wide. Gareth and Varek turned from their bunks.
"You survived… alone?"
Kael gave a rare, genuine smile. "I did."
They exchanged stories—about Tomas, about the escape. Their voices dipped into solemn tones as they recounted how Tomas had charged into a horde of beasts without hesitation.
Kael clenched his fists.
"He bought us time," Varek muttered. "And you… made it out. With just a Flickering Soul."
"You've changed, Kael." Gareth added.
And motioned to a nearby healer. "Check his wounds."
The healer did, but the cuts were superficial and were already closing.
"Lucky bastard," Lira muttered with a chuckle. "He's healthier than us."
After a spending a few mins with the group. Kael thanked them all and left quietly, letting the door shut with a soft click.
Back in his inn room, Kael stepped into the small bath area and washed away the grime of the forest, the blood of beasts, and the pain of parting.
His limbs were heavy.
He barely made it to the bed.
As he lay down, the world began to blur. Thoughts flooded him.
Tomas. The System. The fog. The changes.
His eyes shut.
And then, the boy who was once left for dead…
…slept like a hunter reborn.