I woke up as the godforsaken clock kept ringing.
I tell you—two months had passed, and plenty had changed, but my hate for this clock was the same as day one.
Dragging myself up, I stumbled toward the bathroom. Cold water on my face didn't make mornings any easier. "Two months," I muttered at my reflection. "That's how long I've been buried inside Fort Aetherhold's stone belly."
Training day and night, drills after drills, blades and bruises stacked on each other until I lost count. Claire wasn't joking when she said this place would be hell. Damon saw to that. His training wasn't just about making me fight—it was about stripping hesitation, burning weakness out of me until only steel remained.
Two months ago, my body had been strong for my level. Now, it felt like a weapon itself—sharpened by Damon's merciless edge, tempered in Aetherhold's silence, and blooded in ways I'd rather forget.
Especially that day.
The day he made me fight it.
The iron doors screeched open, echoing down the chamber walls. The stench hit me first—wet rot, sulfur, and something bitter like burning copper. My stomach clenched.
A lesser demon was shoved inside, shackles glowing faintly as runes gnawed at its flesh. It snarled, eyes burning red in the dim chamber light, body twitching against restraints that hummed with power.
"Unshackle it," Damon said. His voice was flat. Unshakable.
I turned to him, searching for some hint of warning or reassurance. Nothing. He just folded his arms, as if this was routine.
The handler struck the runes with his staff. The shackles loosened, links slithering back like serpents retreating into the shadows.
The demon lunged at me.
Instinct screamed. My Eclipse Blade was already in my hands as its weight slammed into mine, claws raking sparks off steel, saliva sizzling where it splattered the floor. Its breath stank of rot and sulfur. I shoved back, blade biting into its midsection.
The sound—wet, tearing, like fabric soaked in blood—lodged itself in my ears.
A torrent of black entrails spilled free, steaming and hissing as they slapped against stone. The demon didn't falter. It dragged its intestines behind it like a grotesque banner, lurching toward me again, mouth splitting wide enough to unhinge its face.
I froze. Just for a second.
"Finish it, Kade!" Damon's shout cut through the haze like a blade.
The demon's claws grazed my cheek, hot blood running down my skin, before instinct roared back to life. I drove my blade through its chest. It shrieked—a sound that rattled my teeth and clawed at my skull—then crumpled in a heap of blood and smoke. The floor sizzled where its body touched, stinking of acid.
For a long moment, I stood there. Hand trembling on the hilt. Breath ragged. Bile rising in my throat.
Damon walked forward, calm as if he'd just watched a spar, and nudged the corpse with his boot. "Good. You didn't run. But next time… don't hesitate. Hesitation gets you killed."
I looked down at the black sludge crawling toward my boots. My blade dripped with it, each drop eating tiny pits into the stone floor.
I swallowed hard. And nodded.
Even now, the memory clung to me. The World of Despair had numbed me to monsters. There, I didn't flinch. My hands never wavered, my heart never quivered. It stripped fear away, left only the rational part of the mind working—cold, efficient.
Here? Every demon reeked of death. Every strike came with the sound of tearing flesh, the stench of burning blood, the screams of things that should not exist. Here, the weight stayed.
Still… I've noticed something in these two months. My growth outpaced everyone. While others crawled forward, I surged. Damon had said I was fast—but even he didn't know why. That was the reason I kept my hidden power—[Reward Enhancement]—to myself. Trust was one thing. Survival another.
I've seen plenty in this fort. Trainees dragged back with torn bodies. Weapons soaked in blood that wasn't their own. Every day was a reminder: the lesser demon I fought was just the start. Stronger horrors waited beyond.
And it seems I'll be meeting them soon.
Damon told me I'd be leaving for the Nexus today. The heart of Pandora. The central hub of the Demon Hunter Organization.
I've never been there. They say it's the costliest place to live and travel, where only the strongest and richest gather. And at its center lies one of the grandest wonders of the world—something worth seeing even if demons didn't lurk at the edges of our lives.
Today, my blade leaves Aetherhold.
Today, I face the world again.
...
I stood waiting at the gates of Aetherhold, tapping my foot against the stone. Damon had told me to be here sharp at eight in the morning. It was now eight-fifteen.
After two months of suffering through his hellish training routines, I'd thought of him as some disciplined, iron-willed instructor. But at this point, I was starting to suspect he was just a lazy sleazebag who enjoyed making my life miserable.
While I was grumbling to myself, I caught sight of Claire walking up the path. She waved, and I waved back. She was dressed in a sharp pantsuit, looking a little too polished for the usual Fort Aetherhold atmosphere.
"Where are you going, looking like that?" I called as she got closer. "Don't tell me it's a date—poor guy would feel suffocated."
"Haa haa, very funny," she replied dryly. "I'm going to Nexus for newbie assignments. Damon told me to bring you along."
I blinked. "Wait. What about Damon?"
"He's not coming." She adjusted her collar and imitated Damon's flat tone. "'It's my off day, so you can go on your own.'"
Figures. Typical Damon.
Over the past two months, Claire and I had become pretty good friends. She was just a year older than me, officially made a Demon Hunter last year, and—conveniently—my neighbor at the dorms. Somehow, she balanced professionalism with sarcasm in a way that made the constant grind bearable.
With that, the two of us headed toward the station.
Funny thing—despite Nexus being the most expensive city in the world, reaching it was almost too easy. Every continent had its own bridge connected directly to Nexus, four bridges in total. Each one stretched nearly two to three hundred kilometers, vast slabs of stone and steel spanning the endless sea. Together, they made Nexus the beating heart of trade, politics, and travel.
Claire and I boarded a train and slipped into our private cabin. Before long, the train lurched forward with a low rumble, and the endless blue opened around us. Through the window, I could see water stretching forever, glittering beneath the morning sun.
"Kade," Claire said, resting her chin against her hand as she gazed at the waves, "do you know the story of this bridge?"
"Of course." I leaned back in my seat, reciting what I thought I knew. "Adam, the Emperor, started building these bridges two hundred years before they were finished. His dream was to conquer all four continents. It wasn't him who did it, though—it was his great-grandson, Karan the Conqueror, who completed that vision."
Claire gave a small shake of her head. "Not wrong. But not the whole truth either."
She turned from the window, eyes glinting faintly. "The real reason Adam began construction… was women. More specifically, his obsession with four women. At one grand festival, when the royals of all the continents gathered in Nexus, he saw the princesses of each land—and he fell in love with all of them at once. To prove his devotion, he ordered bridges built toward each continent, a gesture so vast that no ruler could ignore it."
I raised an eyebrow. "That sounds… excessive. Even for an emperor."
"Excessive?" She gave a humorless laugh. "Several years later, Adam learned the truth. Each of the princesses had already married—and had borne children with other men. In his fury, he invited every royal family back for a 'celebration.'" Her tone cooled, quiet as the waves outside. "At the feast, he slaughtered them all. Everyone except those four women. He took them, forced children from them… and in the end, he hung each woman by her neck at the very unfinished bridges built in their honor."
I sat there, staring at her. "...Wow. That turned dark really fast."
"I didn't know that," I admitted, my voice lower than before.
Claire gave me a smile then—bright, almost too bright. "It's nothing. I just wanted you to know."
But for some reason, that smile unsettled me. I couldn't put my finger on it, but it felt wrong—like there was something lurking beneath it, something I wasn't supposed to see.