The east gate was wide open when Kael's group reached the city.
Crowds lined the streets, spilling into the path, faces craning to see the returning hunters. Word of the battle had outrun them — someone must have carried the news as soon as the giant fell.
The cheering started before Kael had even passed the first watchtower. It was loud, raw, the kind of noise that came from people desperate to believe the danger was over.
Ryn walked beside him, smiling faintly but keeping her hand on her crossbow. "You should enjoy this," she muttered. "They don't cheer forever."
Kael glanced at the smiling, waving faces and felt… detached. "I didn't kill the Shaper for cheers."
"No," Ryn agreed, "but the Guilds will use them like they belong to them."
The commander was waiting just inside the inner gate, flanked by Guild guards in polished steel. She gave Kael a curt nod.
"Alive," she said. "Good. Come with me. The Council wants you."
Kael frowned. "Now?"
Her expression didn't change. "Now."
Ryn started to follow, but the commander held up a hand. "Just him."
Ryn shot Kael a look that was half warning, half don't start a fight unless you have to.
The Council Hall was a tall, narrow building of black stone, its arched windows filtering sunlight into dusty shafts. Inside, the Guild Council sat at a long table: six of them, each in their own colors, representing the major hunting factions.
Kael stopped three paces from the table.
One of them — a wiry man in green and silver — leaned forward. "You killed the Shaper."
Kael's tone was flat. "Yes."
The man's eyes narrowed. "Do you know what that means?"
"It means the marsh is safe. For now."
Another councilor, a woman in deep crimson robes, tapped her fingers on the table. "It means you did something no Guild force has done in over a decade. And you did it without authorization."
Kael felt the weight behind the words. This wasn't praise.
"I wasn't going to wait for permission while a giant knocked down the city wall."
The crimson-robed woman's mouth thinned. "And in doing so, you gained… how much GP?"
Kael's eyes narrowed. "You've been monitoring me."
"Answer the question."
He didn't flinch. "C-Rank. High. Five hundred forty GP."
The reaction was immediate — not shock, but a quiet shift of posture, the kind that came when a predator entered the room.
The man in green smiled thinly. "You understand, of course, that such… rapid progression raises concerns."
"Concerns?" Kael repeated. "Because I'm better at killing the things that kill you?"
The crimson woman's tone sharpened. "Because power without oversight is dangerous. The Shaper is dead. The threat is gone. And now, your presence is the most unpredictable element in this city."
Kael's voice was calm, but cold. "You think I'm a bigger threat than the thing that was trying to eat the city."
They didn't answer directly. Which told him everything.
The man at the far end of the table — older, with a face carved by deep lines — finally spoke. "We are not here to strip you of your hunting rights. Not yet. But we are imposing restrictions. You will not take hunting contracts above your assigned rank without Council approval. You will report your GP after every major kill. And you will not leave the city on extended hunts without a Guild observer."
Kael almost laughed. "An observer? To make sure I don't get too strong?"
"To make sure you don't turn on us," the old man corrected.
Kael met his gaze for a long moment, then turned to leave. "You want me to fight for you? Fine. You want me to fight you? Keep treating me like the enemy."
The commander caught up with him outside. "I told them it was a bad idea to drag you in here today."
Kael didn't slow his pace. "They think they can put a leash on me."
"Maybe they can't. But they can make your life difficult."
He stopped. "If they start getting in the way when the next threat comes, they'll be more than 'difficult.'"
She held his gaze for a beat before sighing. "Stay inside the walls for a few days. Let the tension settle."
Kael didn't answer.
That night, the celebration began.
The Guilds threw a feast in the open market square, tables piled with roasted game, casks of dark ale flowing freely. Minstrels played, torches burned high, and for once the city felt alive instead of bracing for the next attack.
Kael kept to the edges, nursing a mug of ale he barely drank from. Hunters slapped him on the back, strangers offered him food, and a group of children darted past pretending to be "Kael the Beast-Killer."
Ryn found him leaning against a post, watching the crowd. "You're brooding."
"I'm thinking," he said. "The Shaper's dead. The Guilds are nervous. That means there's a gap. Something's going to fill it."
She tilted her head. "You mean another beast?"
"Maybe. Or maybe not a beast at all."
Halfway through the night, a messenger approached — young, out of breath, clearly uncomfortable.
He held out a folded piece of parchment. "For you, sir. From… someone who didn't give their name."
Kael broke the seal. The note inside was short, written in a sharp, deliberate hand:
If you want the truth about the Shaper's heart, come to the Broken Spire at midnight. Alone.
Ryn glanced at it. "Sounds like a trap."
"It probably is." Kael folded the note and tucked it into his coat. "I'm going anyway."
The Broken Spire was an old watchtower on the far edge of the city, half-collapsed and abandoned since before Kael was born. The streets leading to it were dark, the celebration's noise fading behind him.
He stepped inside the ruin, senses sharp, hand near his knife.
A figure stepped from the shadows — tall, wrapped in a tattered Guild cloak, hood low over their face.
"You came," the figure said. The voice was male, low, but with a strange cadence.
"You called," Kael replied. "Talk."
The man lifted his head just enough for Kael to see his eyes — pale, almost colorless, with faint red threads in the whites.
"You think you killed the Shaper," the man said. "You didn't. You killed a Shaper."
Kael's grip on his knife tightened. "Explain."
"They're not singular. They're a network. A hive. What you killed was a node — powerful, yes, but only a fragment of the whole. The rest will know what happened here."
Kael's jaw clenched. "How do you know this?"
"Because I've killed two of them myself."
The man stepped closer, and Kael could see faint scars running up the side of his neck, branching like roots.
"They will come for you," the man said. "And when they do, the Guilds will be too busy fearing you to help you."
Kael's voice was low. "Then I'll do what I did before. Kill them first."
The man smiled faintly. "You'll need help. And I'll need someone the Guilds can't control."
Kael studied him for a long moment. "You're not telling me everything."
"No," the man said. "But I'm telling you enough. Decide if it's enough to keep you alive."