The night was still. Lanterns in the village flickered faintly, their soft glow casting no hint of the storm about to descend.
Kael stood at the edge of the hill, cloak drawn over his frame, eyes locked on the treeline below. He raised one hand, and mana rippled outward in a dome of subtle power.
The entire village exhaled at once. Torches guttered but did not go out, dogs ceased barking, and even the restless chickens fell silent. One by one, every villager drifted into deep slumber. Children collapsed onto their straw mats, mothers slumped at their hearths, fathers froze mid-watch on fences—all safe in Kael's imposed dream.
Then, with a flick of his fingers, he laid the second seal: a sound barrier. No matter what howls, screams, or roars broke out in the forest tonight, the village would remain deaf to it.
His voice carried across the mental link."Now. Hunt."
The treeline stirred. Goblins emerged first, hundreds of them, crawling from shadows with blades glinting in moonlight. Wolves spawned by the dungeon padded at their flanks, their fangs dripping mana-fueled saliva. Above, hawk-like shadows streaked the sky—Kael's wind elementals taking position.
The bandits at the village border laughed, weapons slung over shoulders, unaware of the abyss yawning open around them.
"Boss said it'll be easy—burn the huts, grab the women, take the grain.""Heh. Better loot than last time, I hope—"
A wolf's growl cut his words short. Then a clawed hand erupted from the soil, dragging one bandit screaming into the earth.
Chaos exploded.
Treants lumbered into view, towering silhouettes whose branches lashed like whips. Goblins swarmed, blades cutting hamstrings before teeth tore throats. Wolves lunged, dragging men into the underbrush where screams were swallowed in blood.
Within minutes, the borderland was painted in carnage.
Kael didn't move. He merely watched through his summons' eyes, arms crossed, as his enemies were shredded. Their cries never reached the village; their terror never disturbed the peace.
But Kael wasn't here for slaughter alone.
His voice, cold and commanding, echoed through the link:"Do not kill them all. Find the leader if he's here. If not—someone who knows where the hideout lies. I want the head of this snake before dawn."
The goblins responded with guttural howls of assent. Treants coiled roots around prisoners, squeezing just short of bone-crushing. Wolves circled bleeding men, snapping near their throats but leaving them alive.
A dozen bandits remained breathing, dragged into a circle of flame conjured by Pyraflame's breath. Their eyes widened in horror as the monstrous drake's silhouette loomed over them, heat blistering their skin.
One by one, Kael's summons dragged the captives forward. Some wept, others spat curses, a few begged.
Kael's gaze was merciless."Your leader. Where?"
A scar-faced bandit shook his head, spitting blood. "You think I'll betray—"
A shadow fell over him. Umbra, Kael's Shadow Stalker, detached from the darkness, tendrils wrapping around the man's face. When the tendrils withdrew, his corpse collapsed wordlessly, eyes wide and empty.
The next prisoner broke instantly."H-he wasn't here! He… he stayed back at the hideout! In the Blackmaw Caves, north of Greyspire!"
Kael's eyes glinted.So Arlen's web reaches further than I thought.
Kael flicked his hand. The bandits screamed one final time as roots, claws, and fangs tore through them. Their bodies dissolved into the soil, absorbed by the dungeon's expanding veins of mana.
Only the broken whispers of the survivor remained, trembling in Kael's mind.The Blackmaw Caves…
Kael turned back toward the slumbering village, cloak swirling around him. None had stirred. None had seen. None had heard.
But tonight, beneath the silence, an empire of vengeance moved.
The forest fell silent again, only the faint hiss of blood steaming on the soil. Kael exhaled, lowering his hand as the last remnants of the barrier shimmered faintly around the slumbering village.
His eyes narrowed. The Blackmaw Caves.
Waiting meant giving Arlen's dogs time to move, time to cover their trail. Kael was done waiting.
He placed his palm against the ground, funneling mana through the Abyss Dragon's core. Shadows spiraled outward, knitting into a runic circle at his feet.
"Teleportation: Anchor to Shadow," Kael whispered.
The world blurred, folded inward, and he vanished into the darkness.
Kael emerged within a jagged cavern system, the air reeking of rot, smoke, and unwashed bodies. Torches flickered against the walls, casting grotesque shadows of chain-bound women and children slumped in filthy alcoves.
A dozen bandits prowled near cages, laughing and drinking, oblivious to the abyssal shadow now slinking through their den.
Kael's eyes hardened. Slavery, torture, broken lives… Arlen's signature cruelty.
He did not call his army. He wanted this to be silent. Personal.
One by one, shadows detached from the walls. Umbra's tendrils slit throats before screams could form. Elemental wisps snuffed torches, drowning the caverns in blackness where only Kael could see.
Panic rose—then died just as quickly. Silence reigned.
At the heart of the caves sat the bandit leader, a hulking brute scarred by years of raiding. He rose from his stone chair, reaching for an axe—only to find it encased in ice as Aquara's presence froze the handle.
Kael stepped into the torchlight, his cloak dragging shadows with him.
"Your hideout is ashes already," Kael said calmly. "Your men? Gone. Only you remain."
The leader snarled, spitting. "Do you know who commands me? If I die, others will come—"
Kael's eyes flared crimson. His necromantic aura gripped the man's soul before his body even twitched. Tendrils of shadow pierced into his skull, ripping memories raw and bleeding them into Kael's mind.
The man convulsed, screaming, until his throat tore and blood sprayed across the stone floor.
Images seared into Kael's mind:
Raiding orders signed with Arlen's seal.
Caravans of slaves bound for Greyspire's underground markets.
A special directive—to capture a little girl, no more than five years old, and deliver her unharmed to Arlen.
Kael's jaw tightened. A child? Why? What game are you playing, Arlen?
The bandit leader slumped lifeless to the ground. Kael crushed his skull underfoot, shadows swallowing the remains.
Kael turned toward the cages. Dozens of women and girls looked back at him with hollow eyes, bodies scarred, spirits shattered. Some reached through bars with trembling hands, others recoiled in terror.
His chest tightened. I can't return them like this. Not broken beyond repair. Not into a world that will use them again.
Kael raised his hand. Shadows drifted softly, wrapping around each prisoner like a shroud. Their breathing slowed, pain easing into stillness. One by one, they lay down and slipped into eternal sleep—faces finally at peace.
When the last soul passed, Kael whispered, "Rest. The abyss will never touch you again."
Kael extended his inventory skill. Gold coins, weapons, barrels of grain, crates of stolen jewelry, enchanted trinkets—all dissolved into motes of light and vanished into his storage.
The cavern groaned, as if sensing its master had fallen. Kael left no trace behind—no corpses, no chains, no screams.
He stepped through shadow once more, vanishing into the night.
Behind him, the Blackmaw Caves collapsed inward, erased from the world like a scar healed over.