Virelia had never felt this loud.
Not because of noise—there was no explosion, no alarm, no screaming crowds—but because of attention.
Kaelen walked down the stone-paved avenue toward the eastern district, hands tucked into his coat, posture relaxed in the way only someone strong enough to not be tense could manage. The city breathed around him: merchants closing stalls, lanterns igniting one by one, guards changing shifts atop the walls.
And then—
"Is that… him?"
Kaelen's steps slowed.
A pair of civilians stood near a bakery, whispering urgently. One of them peeked again, eyes widening.
"It is him. That's the hero, right?"
Another voice joined in.
"The one from the broadcast. The one who fought the lich."
Kaelen pretended not to hear it, but his ears burned.
He kept walking.
That only made it worse.
A child tugged on her mother's sleeve, pointing openly now, eyes shining with unmistakable excitement.
"Mommy! Mommy look! It's the hero on TV! The one that saved us!"
Kaelen froze for half a second before catching himself.
The mother looked where her daughter was pointing, recognition dawning on her face. She placed a gentle hand on the girl's head.
"Yes, honey," she said softly.
"That's him. That's Hero Kaelen Veystrum."
The word hero hit harder than any blade.
Kaelen turned slightly, awkward, unsure whether to acknowledge them. The girl smiled and waved with both hands. Kaelen hesitated—then lifted his own hand and gave a small, shy wave back.
The girl gasped like she'd just been blessed by a god.
Kaelen hurried forward before his face could heat any further.
This is… new, he thought.
He had fought monsters.
Faced death.
Bent time and gravity.
But this?
This was different.
This wasn't fear or adrenaline.
This was expectation.
By the time he reached the dungeon district, the crowd had thinned, though a few heads still turned as he passed. The dungeon gate loomed ahead—massive stone arches reinforced with glowing circuits, guards stationed on either side in full armor.
One of them stepped forward.
"Good evening, sir," the guard said respectfully.
"May I see your dungeon card?"
Kaelen nodded and produced it.
The guard scanned it, eyes widening slightly before he straightened and bowed deeply.
"You may pass," he said.
"And… thank you. For protecting the city, hero."
Kaelen blinked.
Then smiled—small, sincere.
"It's what anyone with power and morals should do," he replied.
The guard watched him enter with quiet pride.
The dungeon swallowed him whole.
Light shifted.
Air thickened.
Kaelen stepped forward—and the city vanished.
He stood at the edge of a vast forest.
The trees were enormous, their trunks wider than buildings, bark dark and veined with faint crimson glow. Roots broke through the ground like serpents frozen mid-coil, and the canopy above blocked out most of the sky, allowing only fractured moonlight to spill through.
The air smelled ancient.
Not rot.
Not death.
But depth.
Kaelen exhaled slowly.
"…This dungeon," he muttered, eyes narrowing,
"is abyssal, isn't it."
He sighed.
Of course it was.
He reached up, adjusting his coat, then rested his hand on the hilt at his side.
Axiomfall responded instantly.
The blade slid free with a muted hum, its edge catching the faint light as Kaelen held it loosely, familiarly.
No rush.
No bravado.
Just readiness.
He stepped forward.
The forest reacted.
Branches creaked.
Something large moved in the distance.
Kaelen continued walking, boots crunching softly against the ground. His senses expanded outward—gravity lines mapping the terrain, time pulses brushing against motion ahead.
Then the monsters appeared.
One by one.
Massive shapes emerged from between the trees.
A horned beast with stone-plated limbs and glowing eyes.
A serpentine creature coiled around a trunk, scales rippling with abyssal energy.
A towering bipedal monster whose breath steamed the air despite the warmth.
They blocked the path completely.
Kaelen stopped.
He didn't raise his blade yet.
He stood there, facing them, shoulders relaxed, eyes steady.
And in that stillness—
Memories surfaced.
The child's smile.
The mother's voice.
The civilians whispering his name.
Hero.
Kaelen spoke quietly, not to the monsters—but to himself.
"Since it was my dream to become humanity's hero… and I've accomplished that…"
He tightened his grip slightly.
"I'm grateful."
The monsters growled, energy building.
"But most people don't realize something," Kaelen continued.
"Your goal isn't just to get what you wanted."
The ground trembled.
"It's to endure the process of becoming it."
The horned beast charged.
Kaelen moved.
Time slowed—not fully, not forcibly—just enough for clarity.
He stepped aside, gravity shifting under his feet, blade flashing in a clean arc that redirected the beast's momentum into the earth. It crashed past him, skidding, stunned.
The serpent struck.
Kaelen reversed gravity around its head, forcing it downward, then brought Axiomfall down in a precise, non-excessive strike that severed its circuit core.
One down.
The bipedal monster roared and swung.
Kaelen met it head-on.
Steel met flesh and energy—not with overwhelming force, but with perfect placement. He moved inside its reach, redirected its weight, and sent it crashing into a tree that splintered under the impact.
Kaelen stepped back, breathing steady.
"And once you become what you sought," he said calmly,
"you have to carry the responsibility that comes with it."
The forest shook as more monsters emerged.
Dozens.
Kaelen raised his blade.
"…So since I got what I wanted," he said, eyes sharpening,
"let's start by protecting it."
He vanished.
Time snapped forward.
Gravity folded.
Kaelen became motion.
He moved through the forest like a living equation—every step measured, every strike purposeful. He didn't waste energy. He didn't show off.
He endured.
A monster tried to overwhelm him with raw power—Kaelen redirected it.
Another attempted ambush—Kaelen reversed time a fraction and countered.
An abyssal beast unleashed a domain—Kaelen expanded his own, dragon pressure asserting quiet dominance.
The forest echoed with impact after impact, trees shaking but not destroyed, the land scarred but not ruined.
This wasn't slaughter.
This was duty.
As the last monster fell, the forest grew silent once more.
Kaelen stood alone, blade lowered, chest rising and falling steadily.
He looked at his hands.
Still shaking—just slightly.
Not from fear.
From weight.
"…I'll keep walking," he said softly.
For the people who waved.
For the child who smiled.
For the city that trusted him.
Kaelen Veystrum stepped deeper into the abyssal dungeon—
Not chasing glory.
But carrying a name.