The night dragged on slower than Vael would have liked.
The wooden floor — rotting and splintered as it was — served as a bed for both him and Kiera.
Up until now, there hadn't been any problems sleeping. Which is why the fact that he couldn't tonight was… unusual.
"What troubles you, contractor?" asked Oculor, his voice echoing inside Vael's mind.
Oculor's method of communication was a bit unusual. To speak with him, Vael had to imagine the conversation — build a mental space for the dialogue to exist.
It was different from his connection with Kiera. With her, he could simply think the words and they would reach her. Natural. Instant.
Thanks to this difference, Vael could hide his memories from Oculor — and he was quite glad for that.
He had deliberately chosen to conceal everything related to his regression.
Oculor only had access to the memories from Vael's escape from the lab onward. Any trace of his past life — his regression — had been carefully omitted.
Vael didn't know if going back in time was a common cosmic event or a heretical violation of reality.
And frankly?
He didn't plan to find out.
"It's nothing," Vael replied to Oculor's earlier question.
"I can feel it, contractor." The serpent's voice slithered through his mind, coiled and insistent. "You yearn for something. Not mere slaughter… not simple torture… Vengeance. Ah, yes — the contractor wishes to make his demons bleed."
Oculor's tongue flickered in the hollow of Vael's eye socket, tasting his hesitation.
Vael considered it.
He did want to kill every noble in the Kingdom.
But that was impossible.
"What's stopping you? Laws?" Oculor hissed, amused. "Come now, contractor. Surely you won't chain yourself to the rules of those you despise? Let's hunt."
Gods knew how badly he wanted to surrender to the temptation.
Hell, both he and Kiera were born for assassination.
Yet Vael remained still, debating whether to rip Oculor from his eye and fling him through the window.
This wasn't the time for recklessness — for fleeting, bloody satisfaction.
Instead, he rose and teleported to the roof.
The sky offered no solace tonight.
Thick clouds smothered the stars.
If sleep wouldn't come, he'd train.
A few blinks carried him beyond the city walls to the usual training ground.
The once-flat earth was now scarred with evidence of countless battles, the grass torn and uneven beneath his boots.
Oculor slithered free of his makeshift home with a disappointed sigh. The serpent hungered for blood tonight.
In an instant, he expanded — six meters of coiled muscle and gleaming scale, the perfect size for a sparring partner.
Vael peeled off his shirt, anticipating the sweat to come.
Under the pallid moonlight, the scene was almost spectral: a young man, blond and one-eyed, marked by a scar mirroring the very serpent before him, facing a creature of alabaster scales and a crimson eye.
Vael fed Oculor fifteen percent of his mana reserves — enough for devastating strikes, but not enough to vaporize an arm on impact. Enough to keep the fight short.
No referee called the start.
They didn't need one.
Both knew.
And so, in unison, they moved.
Vael struck first — his signature blink-and-slash.
In an instant, he materialized behind the serpent, rapier gleaming with mana.
He knew it wouldn't land.
He was right.
Oculor's tail flicked out — a casual yet precise deflection sending him skidding harmlessly aside.
Predictable.
The serpent didn't hesitate. Mana surged through his coils, launching him forward in a burst of speed, capitalizing on Vael's unbalanced stance.
But Vael was already gone — blinking to safety, putting distance between them.
He circled Oculor slowly, assessing.
The serpent's muscles tensed beneath diamond-bright scales, ready to strike again.
Then — Oculor's eye flared.
The Eye of the Wise ignited, its crimson glow cutting through the night.
Shit.
Now, every move Vael made would be anticipated. Every feint, useless.
The only advantage? The technique was a mana furnace — Oculor couldn't sustain it for long.
The serpent coiled, then lunged, mana propelling him like a living spear.
Blocking was pointless. Vael blinked away —
But Oculor adjusted mid-charge, twisting in the air to pursue.
The hunt was on.
For a full minute, Vael danced through the darkness, teleporting in desperate arcs, but evasion was futile.
Oculor's tail — reinforced with hardened mana — finally connected.
CRACK.
The blow sent Vael skidding back, boots carving furrows into the earth.
His ribs screamed, but his own mana shielding had dulled the worst of it.
Panting, he wiped blood from his lip.
Oculor's eye dimmed — the serpent conserving what little mana remained.
Vael grinned.
Now the real fight began.