Morning broke like a breath of calm before a storm.
Kael rose from bed, his body already reacting to the rhythm he'd built these past days. The stiffness from training faded with the sting of cold water. A proper bath, even rushed, felt like a rare luxury after surviving on dew and creek water in the wilderness.
He dressed quickly, donning the basic gear he'd kept clean and mended. At the inn's hall, he wolfed down a meal—boiled grain porridge, bread laced with salt herbs, the kind cultivated easily in town. The taste was simple but full, and for Kael, it was fuel.
Back in his room, he sat cross-legged on the creaky wooden floor, the window open to let in the cool morning breeze. From his pouch, he retrieved two lesser beast cores and placed them before him.
His hand hovered, fingers pulsing slightly with the whisper of soul energy. As he absorbed them one after the other, he felt it: the now-familiar heat in his chest, the invisible tendrils of energy weaving through his bones and nerves.
My soul energy pool is growing too quickly...
The Chaos Energy within his system expanding and mutating him subtly each time. He wasn't just evolving through ranks; his foundation was changing.
But there was no time to overthink it. After some quick drills in the alley behind the inn his scythe whistling through the air, Shadow Flicker humming faintly under his control—Kael decided.
Today wasn't for endless training.
Today… he'd reenter the ring.
The Hunter's Guild was alive with chaos.
Voices layered over each other, boots thudded against wooden floors, and the sharp scent of polished armor and oiled weapons hung in the air. Kael had never seen it this packed before.
Soul Hunters moved in clusters, some familiar from the academy, others entirely new. Many carried the quiet confidence of a second Rank. A few had the oppressive air of third rank … and beyond.
Kael moved through the crowd, giving silent nods to those who greeted him. Some offered raised brows of surprise—after all, this was the boy no one expected to return.
But Kael didn't linger. His steps took him where he needed to be.
Layla was at her post as usual, sharp-eyed and poised, though fatigue clung to her edges. She noticed him immediately.
"Kael," she said, offering a small smile. "I figured you'd show up today."
He dipped his head slightly. "I need a party."
She nodded knowingly and leaned forward to shuffle through a slate of thin brass tags, each etched with party details. "I figured as much. Most high-ranked teams are full, but I've got one group still looking for a tenth."
Kael raised a brow.
"They're mixed," she continued. "A few First Rank , but most are Second Rank. Not veterans, but not green either. Reliable… and they leave soon."
He thought for a moment, then gave a nod. "I'll take it."
Layla held his gaze for a second longer, as if trying to read him. "Just be careful. The deeper in they go, the stranger the reports get."
"I will," he said simply.
She scribbled on a strip of parchment and handed it over. "Speak to the leader—name's Rehn. He's just outside the gear counter."
Kael found the group without trouble. They gathered near the exit hall—nine in total, armor varying in color and weight, all with that blend of caution and confidence that came from hard-earned survival.
Kael didn't bother introducing himself to everyone.
He only walked up to the man standing at the front. He was broad-shouldered, and had a band of silver threading through his dark braid.
"Rehn?" Kael asked.
The man sized him up quickly, then spoke. "You're the last one. Kael, right?"
Kael nodded. "If you'll have me."
Rehn didn't hesitate. "You survived the Fogveil alone. You're in."
No questions asked. No pointless ceremony. That suited Kael just fine.
"We leave in two hours," Rehn added. "Pack light. Rations and soul tonic if you have. We're not going deep, but I don't like being caught off guard."
Kael nodded again, turned, and left.
He spent the next hour stocking up—dry rations, a new water skin, two low-grade soul tonics, and a small cloth-bound kit for field injuries. He knew what it was to be unprepared. That wouldn't happen again.
As the sun crested toward noon, Kael stood among his new group, his eyes fixed on the eastern gate of Greyveil.
The gates creaked open slowly.
They moved out like the countless parties before them.
Kael crossed the threshold in silence, the distant Fogveil hanging like a storm cloud on the horizon
The moment they crossed into the Fogveil Ring, Kael felt it.
The fog was heavier than before—thicker, more alive, like it watched them pass. The trees stood like silent sentinels cloaked in mist, their twisted limbs reaching into the pale air. Every sound and every crack of a branch, every low growl in the distance—echoed sharper in this veil.
Kael narrowed his eyes.
It's changed again…
The last time he'd stepped through this curtain, he was weaker and clinging to instinct. Now, with clearer vision and a firmer grip on his strength, he could feel it pulsing around him—the low thrum of Soul Beasts moving… too orderly. Too aware.
They didn't get far before the first attack came.
"Formation Three!" Rehn barked, drawing both his blades in a single smooth motion. "Rookies—center hold! Keep your sides tight!"
Kael moved without hesitation, sliding into place with the other lower-ranked hunters. Around them, a blur of gray shapes burst from the fog, they were low-skulking wolfbeasts, their eyes glowing faintly with soul energy, jaws frothing with hunger.
The clash was immediate—raw and loud.
Kael spun his scythe in a fluid arc, cleaving through the neck of a wolfbeast that lunged too close. Another came from the flank—he ducked and slid, then struck—the blade cutting deep into the ribs.
Lesser Soul Beast slain. CE Units absorbed: +20.
He blinked.
Twenty?
The system pulsed inside him, chaos energy crackling faintly in his chest.
Last time I was only getting ten…
He dispatched another beast—quick, precise, controlling his movements so as not to draw too much attention.
Another twenty units.
Kael's heart pounded though not with fear, but realization.
The beasts… they're stronger now. More violent. But that means their energy is richer.
The tide… it's not just a disaster. It's an opportunity.
His gaze flicked to Rehn—holding off three beasts at once, coordinating the team with sharp efficiency. The other hunters fought well, but Kael knew it in his bones:
He couldn't stay here. Not for long.
Every kill, every clash of soul energy, every pulse of his chaos system—it all risked exposure. If anyone around him could sense the way he absorbed that untamed energy… if they noticed the difference…
They'll ask questions I'm not ready to answer.
He cut through another beast, this time using Shadow Flicker to dodge past a snapping maw. His afterimage remained in place just long enough to confuse it—giving him the edge to strike cleanly. The system hummed in satisfaction.
Another twenty CE units.
His gaze dropped briefly to the counter in his mind. He was accelerating again.
But it wasn't just about leveling up. It was about freedom.
Not just being another pawn obeying formations and orders, marching into the mist like cattle.
If I want to grow—truly grow—I can't do it under watchful eyes.
He took another breath, dodged another strike, and struck down the last beast in his lane.
The formation was holding—for now. The hunters regrouped, panting, bruised but steady. No one had fallen yet.
Rehn glanced toward him and gave a small nod of approval.
Kael returned it with quiet calm… but his mind was already racing.
'I can't stay in this party.'
'Not because I don't trust them—but because I can't afford to be seen.'
'Not yet.'
He looked around—calculating the fog's thickness, the angles of the terrain, the beast movement patterns.
He had already begun planning his split.
It was dangerous. Possibly suicidal. But so was stagnation.
This tide might drown others... but I'll ride it.
Even if I have to walk its darkest currents alone.
The fog curled around him once more, as if it sensed his resolve.
And somewhere deep within the chaos, Kael's soul stirred—hungrier than ever.