The Rift had been sealed… for now.
A squad of licensed Hunters arrived the next morning to secure the area. But none drew more attention than two figures leading the team.
Harven Lyre, known across Hyero Cripkto as a legendary combat Hunter. Scarred, broad-shouldered, his sword almost as tall as Kael. He had killed monsters larger than houses—and lost friends just as great.
Beside him, with a breeze constantly coiling around her, walked Velia Lyre, Rui's mother. A wind mage who once sealed a living dungeon alone. Eyes like stormclouds. Graceful. Unshakable.
They were Rui's parents—and they were terrifying.
Later that day, Kael found himself inside the Lyre household, standing before the two of them like a criminal before the king and queen. Rui stood off to the side, arms crossed tightly, watching.
Kael knelt.
"Please," he said. "Train me."
Velia blinked. Harven said nothing, only stared.
"I need to get stronger," Kael continued. "I know I'm weak now, but if you help me—if you just give me a chance—I'll survive what's coming. I swear it."
Silence.
Harven's voice cut through the air like a blade.
"No."
Kael's heart dropped.
Velia stepped forward. Her tone was calm but final.
"You carry a mark of corruption. One we've seen before. Maldrak's touch isn't something we'll invite into our home."
"I'm not corrupted," Kael said, fists clenched. "I survived. I resisted him."
"That's worse," Harven said. "It means he's watching you."
Kael looked down.
Then a new voice entered.
"Then train him anyway," Rui snapped. Her parents turned to her. "You think turning your back will keep him safe? Kael faced a Gravetooth alone. He saved people. He's not asking to be a hero—he's trying not to die."
Velia's brows lowered. "Rui—"
"You always told me to protect what matters. Well, he matters."
Harven's face hardened. "You're speaking like a child who doesn't understand the weight of consequence."
"I understand it," Rui fired back. "Maybe better than you."
But the verdict didn't change.
Harven turned away. "He leaves by morning."
Velia added coldly, "And you, Rui, will do well to remember who you're speaking to."
Kael didn't say anything that night. He simply bowed low, heart heavy, and left.
But the next day, he came again.
And again the day after.
And again.
For six dawns in a row, Kael returned to the Lyre estate—bruised, limping, but unwavering. He stood at the gates as the sun rose and knelt before them in silence. Sometimes he spoke. Sometimes he simply waited.
"I don't care how many times you say no," he said one morning, voice hoarse. "I'll keep asking until I break—or until you break me."
On the seventh day, Harven stepped outside and stood over him.
"You're persistent," the old warrior said. "Or foolish."
"Both," Kael answered.
Velia emerged beside him, arms folded, eyes unreadable. She looked at Kael long and hard.
Then finally, she turned to her husband and nodded once.
Harven sighed. "One week. No more."
Kael looked up, barely believing it.
"You'll train here, under our rules," Harven said gruffly. "If you break once, we stop. If you fall behind, we stop."
Velia added, "And if we see even a hint of corruption surfacing—"
"You'll kill me," Kael said, finishing her sentence. "Understood."
Harven turned away.
Velia sighed. "Then we begin tomorrow."
That night, outside beneath the windchimes, Kael sat on the edge of the Lyre estate's garden steps, arms wrapped around his knees, bruised but determined.
Rui stood nearby, leaning against the wooden post, silent.
When she finally spoke, her voice was low. Almost uncertain.
"…You really did it."
Kael glanced up.
"They said yes," she continued, almost in disbelief. "They actually said yes. I didn't think—I mean, after everything—"
Kael gave a tired smile. "You told me they'd break my bones before they trained me."
"I didn't think you'd let them."
"I will," he said simply.
Rui stared at him, like she was seeing someone new. Like the boy she'd grown up with had started becoming something else—something harder, fiercer.
"I don't know if this is brave," she said, "or just insane."
"Maybe both."
She shook her head slightly, the wind rustling her hair.
"…Just don't die."
Kael looked up at the stars, where the presence of Maldrak still seemed to loom beyond the veil of night.
"I'm not planning to."
And with that, silence fell again—tense, uncertain, but full of something neither of them could name yet.