Chapter 1: The Weakest Mage
Summary: Kael Ardyn, an outcast noble, struggles to survive as a low-ranked mage. Betrayed by his party and left for dead, he stumbles upon the forbidden Killstreak Grimoire. His first kill unlocks the system, changing his fate forever.
Kael's pulse thundered in his ears as flames danced in his open palm. Real fire. Not a flicker, not a pathetic ember, but something strong. It crackled and twisted in the air, its heat licking at his fingertips like a living thing.
This wasn't normal.
This wasn't the weak, useless Flickerfire Spell he had cast his entire life.
This was something else entirely.
[Killstreak Counter: 1.]
The mechanical voice in his head was calm, almost indifferent, as if it hadn't just rewritten the rules of his existence.
Kael stared at his hand, his breath uneven. His magic had never felt like this before—alive, surging, like fire in his very veins. The warmth spread through him, strengthening his limbs, sharpening his senses.
He flexed his fingers. The fire obeyed, pulsing in time with his heartbeat.
Then, another shriek tore through the ruins.
Kael's head snapped up.
The remaining two ghouls had finally noticed what had happened.
One of them—a twisted creature with tattered armor fused to its decayed flesh—let out an ear-splitting screech. Its jagged teeth clacked together, its sunken, milky eyes narrowing as it crouched, muscles tensing like a coiled spring.
Then, without hesitation—it lunged.
Kael reacted instantly.
His body moved faster than ever before, instincts sharper, his reaction time flawless.
Instead of stumbling backward in panic like before, he stepped into the attack.
His hand snapped up—
And he thrust his palm forward.
"Flickerfire—"
No.
Not Flickerfire.
"Hellfire Bolt!"
A roaring projectile of flame exploded from his fingertips.
The ghoul had no time to react.
The fireball slammed into its chest, and for the first time in its undead existence—it screamed.
The flames burst across its body, spreading rapidly, charring the decayed flesh in an instant.
The ghoul thrashed, its skin bubbling and blackening, until finally, its ruined body collapsed into a heap of smoldering ash.
Then—
[Killstreak Counter: 2.]
[Temporary Magic Boost: x3.]
Another surge of power flooded through him.
Kael gasped, his entire body thrumming with energy. His vision felt clearer, his muscles lighter, his fire hotter.
It was like he was adapting. Evolving.
With each kill, he was getting stronger.
This is insane.
But he didn't have time to process it.
Because the last ghoul was already charging.
---
A True Fight
This one was bigger, faster.
It had been watching.
It had learned.
Kael barely twisted away as its clawed hand sliced through the air where his neck had been a second ago. The force of the strike was strong enough to carve a groove into the stone behind him.
Shit.
This wasn't like the first two. This one was fresh. Less decayed. More dangerous.
It turned sharply, its movements unnatural, limbs jerking like a broken marionette. It let out a guttural hiss, then lunged again—this time, twice as fast.
Kael didn't hesitate.
He pushed off the ground, rolling aside as the creature smashed into the spot where he had just been standing. The impact shattered the stone, sending debris flying.
He landed on his knees, hands raised—fire already forming at his fingertips.
But the ghoul was fast.
It recovered instantly, pivoting on its heel, and before Kael could unleash another spell—
Its hand lashed out.
Pain exploded across Kael's ribs as the ghoul's clawed fingers raked across his side.
He stumbled back, gasping, feeling hot blood spill down his skin.
It wasn't deep, but it was a warning.
One more mistake, and he was dead.
The ghoul didn't stop.
It charged again, its speed unnatural, and Kael knew—if he let it keep attacking, he'd never win.
So, this time—he didn't dodge.
This time—he attacked first.
---
A Rising Killstreak
The moment the ghoul lunged, Kael raised his uninjured hand, flames swirling at his fingertips.
But instead of firing—
He waited.
The ghoul's mouth opened wide, ready to tear into his throat—
Then Kael struck.
At the last possible second, he threw the fire straight into its mouth.
The Hellfire Bolt exploded inside its skull.
The force of the blast sent Kael skidding backward, the shockwave whipping his hair and cloak around him.
The ghoul's head detonated like a bursting fruit, its body twitching violently before collapsing in a heap of burnt flesh.
And then—
[Killstreak Counter: 3.]
[Temporary Magic Boost: x5.]
Kael staggered.
A rush of overwhelming power crashed through him. His muscles tightened, his magic swelled, his fire burned hotter, fiercer.
His wounds—they were healing.
He looked at his hands, at the strength now running through his veins, and a slow, unbelieving grin spread across his face.
This is it.
This is what I've been missing.
For the first time in his miserable, pathetic life—
Kael felt powerful.
And he was only just getting started.
Chapter 1: The Weakest Mage
Summary: Kael Ardyn, an outcast noble, struggles to survive as a low-ranked mage. Betrayed by his party and left for dead, he stumbles upon the forbidden Killstreak Grimoire. His first kill unlocks the system, changing his fate forever.
---
Part 4: The Cost of Power
Kael's heart pounded in his chest. His breathing was ragged, his skin slick with sweat and blood, but his body felt stronger than ever.
Fire still crackled in his fingertips, the embers swirling lazily in the cold night air. It obeyed him—a force, raw and alive, waiting to be unleashed again.
His hands trembled, but not from fear.
From exhilaration.
This system—this Killstreak power—was unlike anything he had ever known.
He had spent his entire life as a failure, a mage so weak he was mocked by peasants. His Flickerfire Spell had been a joke, barely enough to light a candle.
But now?
Now, he had killed three enemies, and his magic had grown five times stronger.
[Killstreak Counter: 3.]
[Temporary Magic Boost: x5.]
Kael clenched his fists, his fingernails digging into his palms. His body thrummed with power, a constant, electrifying rush of strength, as if he had finally awakened something that had always been sleeping inside him.
He wanted more.
More power.
More fire.
More kills.
His eyes flickered toward the battlefield around him. The broken ruins stretched far into the distance, shadows creeping between shattered war machines and rusted weapons buried in the dirt.
There had to be more monsters nearby.
If he found them… if he killed them…
How strong could he become?
He took a slow step forward, fingers twitching, fire still burning in his palm.
Then—
[Warning: Killstreak Timer Active.]
A cold sensation washed over Kael's spine.
[Time Until Killstreak Resets: 04:57.]
Kael froze.
His blood turned to ice.
What?
His eyes flicked to the glowing system notification, words pulsing in the air before him. His thoughts raced.
Four minutes and fifty-seven seconds.
A countdown.
A timer.
The realization crashed into him like a collapsing wall.
If the timer reached zero… his killstreak would end.
And if his killstreak ended—what would happen to his power?
He didn't need the system to tell him.
He already knew.
If he let the timer run out, he would go back to being weak.
The thought was so horrifying, so gut-wrenching, that his stomach twisted into knots.
No.
I can't let that happen.
He had spent too long being nothing. He had tasted what it was like to have power, and now—he refused to lose it.
His eyes snapped toward the ruins.
He needed to find something to kill.
---
The Desperate Hunt
Kael moved.
His boots crunched against the dirt as he rushed across the battlefield, his gaze darting over every shadow, every broken ruin, searching for movement.
The timer in his vision continued to count down.
04:31… 04:30… 04:29…
Damn it!
He pushed faster, his lungs burning, his heartbeat hammering against his ribs.
There had to be something out here—a monster, a bandit, another ghoul. Anything.
He couldn't go back.
He wouldn't go back.
Then—
A sound.
Kael skidded to a stop, his head snapping toward the noise.
From the wreckage of an old war chariot, something stirred.
A flicker of movement, low to the ground. A pair of glowing red eyes blinked in the darkness.
Then, a low, guttural growl.
Kael's breath hitched.
A Shadowfang Wolf.
It was lean and skeletal, its fur matted with blood, its teeth gleaming in the moonlight. Its body was riddled with old wounds, as if it had barely survived past battles.
A scavenger.
A dying beast, left behind to rot.
Kael didn't care.
It was alive. That was all that mattered.
The wolf snarled, its hackles rising. Its muscles tensed, ready to strike.
But Kael had already moved.
---
The Fourth Kill
Kael threw out his hand, fire surging from his fingertips.
The wolf lunged, its fangs flashing in the dark.
Kael unleashed his flames.
The Hellfire Bolt exploded against the wolf's chest, sending the beast reeling backward with a shriek of agony. Its fur ignited instantly, the flames eating through flesh and sinew, charring it from the inside out.
It collapsed, twitching violently—then fell completely still.
A second passed.
Then—
[Killstreak Counter: 4.]
[Temporary Magic Boost: x7.]
The fire in Kael's veins burned hotter.
His entire body shook, but it wasn't from exhaustion. It was from raw power surging through him, strengthening him, remaking him.
His magic had never been this strong.
And it was getting stronger.
Kael let out a slow, ragged breath.
He glanced at the Killstreak Timer.
The countdown had reset—back to five minutes.
A slow grin spread across his face.
I see.
So long as he kept killing, his power would keep rising.
And if he stopped… he would lose it all.
His fingers twitched at his side, the warmth of his enhanced magic still pulsing in his palm.
His eyes lifted to the battlefield around him.
It was vast.
Ruins stretched for miles in every direction.
And he wasn't alone out here.
There were more monsters. More creatures. More things to kill.
Kael let out a slow, steady breath.
Then, without hesitation—he started walking.