The rain hadn't let up. It hammered the warped roof of the safehouse like the steady beat of a war drum, drowning out everything else. Outside, the city of Valenport bled its shadows into the alleys, and every drip that slid down the grimy window distorted the pale lantern light into wavering gold smears. It was the kind of night that felt like the world was holding its breath — waiting.
I stood there, fingers curled around the cold wood of the windowsill, thinking about everything that had led me here. About the poison that nearly killed me. About Aric's betrayal — the mentor who turned predator. About Rhea Veylan — the Hunter sent to finish what Aric started.
And about the rank I'd clawed back from the abyss.
C-Rank.
It still felt strange to say aloud. Just weeks ago, I was barely holding on at D-Rank — bruised, bleeding, a shadow of the warrior I used to be. Back then, my Soul Resonance was unstable, my body barely able to keep pace with the simplest moves. Every fight was a desperate gamble; every breath, a battle for survival.
Now? Now I was stronger. Sharper. Dangerous again.
C-Rank wasn't just a number. It was a statement. I was no longer the broken man the Council tried to erase. I'd survived the bottom, and now I was climbing — slowly, painfully, but steadily.
The path wasn't easy. Every rank climb had come with its own scars. From the streets where I fought untrained mercs in dark alleys, to small victories against Council operatives, each win had built the fragile foundation beneath my feet.
But Rhea was different. She wasn't just a threat — she was a reminder.
Ryn's voice broke through my thoughts, cool and steady. "You're not the only one climbing the ladder. Hunters like her? They're usually S-Rank, trained and tested beyond anything you've faced so far. And they don't come cheap."
I turned to her, watching the sharp angles of her face under the flickering candlelight. "Then why now? Why me?"
She shrugged, sharpening a blade with cold precision. "Because you're no longer a nobody. The Council sees you as a problem. And problems get knives in their backs."
Loran, sitting at the battered table with a cloth pressed against a still-bleeding shoulder wound, scoffed. "Rank means little when the Council decides your fate. You're dancing too close to the fire, Kael. And fires burn."
"I'm not here to dance," I said, voice low but fierce. "I'm here to fight. To take back what was stolen. To remind them that Kael — the name they spat on — is still alive."
Mira, silent until now, finally spoke, her voice quiet but firm. "You're stronger than before. Your Resonance holds longer, your strikes are cleaner. You're no longer just surviving. You're starting to hunt back."
Her words felt like fuel to a fire I'd kept smoldering inside for too long.
The rain slowed to a drizzle outside, a soft mist weaving through the city's narrow streets. I grabbed my cloak and pulled it tight around my shoulders. "Tonight, I'm going to Warehouse Row. I want to find Rhea — and make sure she knows I'm coming for her."
Ryn's eyes narrowed. "You're walking into the lion's den. You need more than strength — you need a plan. And you need to be ready to walk away if this goes south."
"I don't get to walk away anymore," I said, the weight of my words settling between us. "Not if I want to climb higher. Not if I want to take down Aric."
We moved out into the night, the city's breath cold on my skin. Warehouse Row was a maze of shadows and silence, a place where smuggler crews, mercenaries, and Council spies played a dangerous game of cat and mouse. The stench of saltwater mixed with rusted metal and rotting cargo, and the lanterns hanging from mooring posts cast long, trembling shadows across the planks.
Every step was calculated, every sound a potential threat.
I felt my Soul Resonance stirring beneath my skin — a faint pulse like a heartbeat in my bones. It was still a fragile thing, but it obeyed me better now. I could hold it longer, push a little harder, make my strikes faster and stronger without collapsing into exhaustion. C-Rank meant control, discipline, and enough power to challenge the Council's mid-tier forces. It wasn't the mythical strength I once wielded, but it was enough to turn heads — enough to mark me as a threat.
Ryn led us through tight alleyways, her movements shadow-silent. Mira covered our rear, her crossbow ready to sing death if we stumbled into a trap. Loran's eyes never stopped scanning for informants or snitches.
We reached a warehouse — old, grimy, its faded sign swinging on rusted chains. From inside came muffled voices, and I caught the unmistakable sound of a case being opened and closed.
Rhea Veylan.
Her name had echoed in my mind ever since I'd learned it. The Council's deadliest blade. The whisper in every dark corner.
Tonight, I was going to meet that whisper face to face.
Ryn's hand brushed my arm. "This is a bad idea."
"No," I said, gripping the hilt of my sword beneath my cloak. "This is a warning."
I'm still far from the warrior I was — far from the legend I aim to reclaim. But at C-Rank, I'm no longer the prey. I'm the hunter beginning to bite back.
And the Council's shadows are about to feel the sting.