A month passed in steady rhythm. Kael trained daily, splitting his time between practicing with the hunting knife Balen had given him, refining his control over Minor Teleport, and pushing the limits of Omni-Vision. His strength had grown, and with it, confidence.
He helped the villagers as much as he could—repairing fences, carrying supplies, even gathering firewood with a small group of children who had grown brave enough to follow him at a distance. Wrenvale was beginning to feel less like a temporary place and more like a strange sort of home.
But peace never lasted long.
It came at dawn. A smaller horde of shadow beasts, maybe six in total, broke through the treeline and charged the village. The warning bell clanged out across the square, and Kael was already moving before the echo faded.
He fought with efficiency now. Using Omni-Vision to track their movements, he teleported stones into the beasts' open mouths to disrupt their breathing, looped falling debris from the rooftops into devastating strikes, and used his knife only when necessary. The villagers, now more prepared and better trained, stood their ground alongside him.
Within minutes, the beasts were gone—dealt with quickly.
Kael was washing blood from his arms at the well when Balen approached, carrying a pouch of worn leather. He tossed it lightly to Kael.
Kael caught it. Inside were a handful of dull silver and bronze coins, each etched with unfamiliar markings.
"That's your share," Balen said.
Kael blinked. "Share?"
"Adventurers get paid for defending villages. Even if you're not officially registered, it's only right. Figured you should start learning what money looks like."
Kael examined the coins. "What are they called?"
"Marks," Halren said. "Bronze, silver, gold, and jade. A bronze mark gets you a meal. A silver might get you a night at an inn. Gold's rare. Jade… well, I've never seen one."
Kael nodded slowly, committing it to memory. Balen crossed his arms, then fixed Kael with a thoughtful stare.
"You know," he said, "you never did tell me where you came from."
Kael's body stiffened. He had known this would come eventually.
Balen continued, voice calm. "You're strong, but you didn't know what marks were. You didn't know how skills grow or how magic works. You didn't even know what shadow beasts were. You're not stupid, Kael. So where did you come from?"
Kael hesitated. Telling the truth—that he had died and awoken in this world—felt... wrong. Dangerous, even.
He let out a quiet breath.
"My parents chose to live far away," he said. "In the wilderness. A cabin near the mountain's edge. They didn't trust cities or towns. Said the world was too broken."
Balen's expression didn't change. He just listened.
"They taught me what they could," Kael continued. "But when the shadow beasts started coming... they tried to fight one."
He looked down at the ground.
"They told me to run. So I did."
Silence stretched for a long moment.
Finally, Balen clapped a hand on Kael's shoulder. "Well. You're here now. That's what matters."
Kael gave a small nod, grateful that the conversation didn't go deeper.
He didn't like lying. But sometimes the truth was heavier than most people could carry.