Kael woke to fire.
Not the chaotic blaze of battle, but the soft, controlled kind—embers crackling in a stone-ringed pit, their glow dancing along the curved walls of a cave. Cool air brushed his skin. His upper body was bare, bandaged, his ribs tightly wrapped.
He tried to sit up.
"Don't."
Thalia's voice came softly from the shadows. She stepped into view, her green eyes locked on his, weary but vigilant.
"You tore muscle. Cracked bone. Nearly bled out through a punctured lung. Again." She paused, a sharpness in her voice. "Third time this week."
Kael winced but managed a weak smirk. "You keeping count now?"
"I stopped at thirteen," she said, voice flat.
He didn't reply.
Raen was nearby, sharpening his blade with rhythmic strokes, steel on whetstone. Kess sat cross-legged near the fire, meditating, her hands resting in her lap, breathing steady.
But not all were present.
"Where's—"
"Yren's scouting. Zai and Mareth went to the outer ridge. Something's off."
Kael nodded and closed his eyes briefly. The echoes of the Crimson Veil trial still lingered—Arienne's face, the twisted copies of his allies, and the Crimson King's final scream. None of it had faded.
The system hadn't let him forget, either.
[You are being observed.]
[Unknown Protocol: Echo Beacon Signature Detected.]
It had triggered the moment he crossed back from the Veil. And it hadn't stopped.
Not once.
Hours Later
They emerged from the cave into the jagged highlands of the Dead Expanse—a realm scarred by void storms and cosmic fire, where the sky burned violet at night and gravity shifted at will. Once a seat of life, now a graveyard of ambition.
Kael led, moving cautiously but deliberately. His aura was steadier now, no longer flaring white, but simmering beneath the surface like banked coals. He'd learned to hold it back, but the cost was written in the tautness of his shoulders and the silence in his eyes.
Yren returned, slipping down the slope with two fingers raised in warning.
"Movement," he said. "Three miles west. Not wildlings. Not Remnants."
"Factions?" Kael asked.
"No. Worse."
Raen stood. "Heralds?"
Yren nodded once. "And they're not passing through. They're looking for us."
A chill passed through the group.
Heralds of Silence.
Beings that preceded the arrival of true Void-Touched entities—emissaries of extinction, scouting potential threats and marking them for annihilation. No faction controlled them. No one survived them.
"They shouldn't be here," Kess said, voice low. "Not yet."
"They're early," Thalia muttered. "Which means something's changed."
Kael knew what it was.
Him.
The Crimson Veil wasn't just a trial. It had been a beacon. The moment he broke its core and shattered the King, someone—or something—had noticed.
[Ascension Path Deviation Recorded]
[Interference Threshold Exceeded]
"Do we run?" Yren asked.
Kael looked up at the sky, now flickering with strange dark clouds—hexagonal in pattern, like circuitry fracturing reality.
"No. We prepare."
They made camp beneath the ruins of an ancient archway—stone pillars etched with old Glyphian runes that pulsed faintly in Kael's presence. The Ashen Creed's core members huddled beneath, tension thick.
"Three Heralds confirmed," Mareth reported. "One is an Augur-class. That's bad. Real bad."
"What are their classes again?" Kael asked.
Kess answered. "Heralds come in three main types: Augurs, Reapers, and Judges. Augurs read possible futures—marking those whose ascension threatens the Balance. Reapers erase those marked. Judges… end entire bloodlines."
Kael's jaw tightened.
"So we have an Augur watching us now."
"Not watching." Mareth swallowed. "Hunting."
That night, Kael stood watch alone, perched on the edge of the ruins, gazing out into the darkness.
Something moved.
He turned.
There it was—hovering just beyond the veil of space, a figure in white robes stained with void-black ink. No feet touched the ground. No eyes stared from beneath the hood. Just a faceless emptiness that watched.
[Herald of Silence – Augur-Class: Vael'Sorak Detected]
Threat Level: Unknown
Note: This entity exists partially outside of chronological space. Interactions may destabilize reality.
"Kael of Nullblood."
The voice came without sound, a message in his skull, slithering behind thought.
"You fractured the Crimson Veil. You survived the echo. You altered your line."
Kael stood firm.
"You shouldn't be," the Herald said. "But you are."
Kael lifted his blade slowly, the system pulsing at his fingertips.
"Then come and unmake me."
The Herald tilted its head. "Your trial has already begun."
It vanished.
The First Assault
It came at dawn.
The sky bent. Literally bent. Like glass warping around heat.
And then they came.
Reapers.
Seven of them—tall, lean, sheathed in mirrored armor that flickered with void light. No words. No roars. Just movement—instantaneous, deadly.
Kael barely got his barrier up before the first slash carved through the air, splitting the stone behind him like wet clay.
[System Alert: Anti-Sequence Blade Detected]
They weren't fighting for conquest. Or power. Or ideology.
They were fighting to erase him from existence.
The battle was chaos. Yren's dual glaives spun in whirling arcs, cleaving through the air like wind razors. Thalia unleashed chained sigils, exploding with radiant fire. Mareth called down spectral spears from the heavens.
But it wasn't enough.
The Reapers bled reality when struck—unmaking the ground beneath their feet. One of them reached Kess, drove a blade through her shoulder, and whispered something in a forgotten tongue.
[Soul Anchor Severed – Resurrection Disabled Temporarily]
Kael saw red.
His eyes ignited, the Limit Breaker flaring without command. The system pushed back.
[Warning: Consecutive Activation Detected. Stability Threshold Critical.]
He didn't care.
He moved.
Everything blurred.
His sword became light. His steps shattered distance. He cut through one Reaper—and it didn't fall, it ceased.
But every time he struck one down, two more replaced it.
Until…
He screamed.
Not in pain.
In command.
[Sovereign's Defiance – Passive Activated]
Effect: Entities below Ascension Tier 6 cannot deny your existence. Void-Touched Reaper Protocols temporarily disabled.
The battlefield froze.
Just long enough.
Raen moved like a shadow. Thalia sealed the edges with holy glyphs. Yren impaled two Reapers into a collapsing faultline.
Kael grabbed Kess and pulled her out.
Only one Reaper remained, blinking in and out of time.
Kael looked it in its blank, mirrored face.
And struck.
The blade didn't cut.
It spoke.
Sovereign authority. Will made real. A command to remain.
The Reaper's form shattered, not from steel—but rejection.
When the dust settled, silence reigned.
The group was injured. Bloodied. But alive.
Kael stood in the middle of the ruins, blood dripping from his arms, his aura flickering like a failing star.
[System Update Complete]
You have been marked by the Augur-Class Herald: Vael'Sorak.
Future encounters will scale based on narrative impact.
Ascension Code has initiated the next branch: Choice of Opposition.
Three Factions have taken notice.
— The Obsidian Covenant
— The Throne Unbound
— The Choir of Endings
Kael blinked.
"…This isn't just about survival anymore," he whispered.
Raen stepped forward, dragging his blade behind him.
"Then what is it?"
Kael looked at his bloodied hands.
"It's war."