⚔️ Chapter 7:
Kael left before the sun rose.
No farewell.
No prayers.
No graves left to tend.
The village behind him was no longer a place—it was a warning carved into ash and stone. Blackened huts leaned like corpses frozen mid-fall. The smell of burned flesh still clung to the air, thick enough to choke the weak.
Kael did not look back.
He knew better.
Wherever he stayed, gods followed. Wherever he rested, death descended.
So he walked.
Barefoot.
Bleeding.
With a divine seal burning cold against his chest like a reminder that even his pain did not belong to him.
The mountains ahead rose jagged and cruel, cutting the horizon like broken blades. No roads led there. No prayers were answered there. It was a place avoided by gods and men alike.
A place where only monsters survived.
That was where Kael was going.
By midday, the hunger began to bite.
His stomach twisted violently, empty for days now. The pain was sharp at first, then dull, then constant—like a blade left lodged inside him. He ignored it. Pain had become familiar. Almost comforting.
The seal on his chest pulsed faintly with each step, a cold pressure sinking deeper into his bones. The shadow inside him was quiet. Too quiet.
That silence frightened him more than its rage ever had.
By dusk, the land changed.
Grass thinned. Trees warped into twisted silhouettes, their bark split open like old wounds that never healed. The air smelled wrong—stale, heavy, laced with rot and something metallic.
Kael felt eyes on him.
Not divine.
Worse.
He tightened his grip around a crude club he'd fashioned from a broken tree limb. It was heavy, uneven, barely useful—but it was real. Solid. Honest.
Unlike the power sealed inside him.
A low growl rolled through the dead forest.
Kael froze.
From the shadows between the trees, something shifted.
A beast emerged—massive, hunched, its spine protruding through gray, scarred skin. One arm was longer than the other, dragging claws through the dirt. Its face was half-formed, jaw twisted sideways, one eye milky and blind.
Not a divine beast.
An abandoned one.
A failed experiment of the gods.
It sniffed the air, then turned its head toward Kael.
And smiled.
Kael's heart hammered.
He did not run.
He stepped forward.
The beast charged.
The impact came faster than expected. Kael swung the club with everything he had, smashing it against the creature's shoulder. The wood cracked instantly. The beast barely flinched.
A claw slammed into Kael's ribs.
He flew backward, crashing into a tree trunk. The air left his lungs in a strangled gasp. His vision blurred as bark tore into his back.
The beast roared and lunged again.
Kael rolled aside just in time. Claws tore through dirt where his head had been a moment before.
He scrambled to his feet, chest burning, ribs screaming.
The seal throbbed violently.
Inside him, the shadow stirred.
Let me help.
The voice was soft. Tempting.
Kael spat blood onto the ground.
"No."
The beast charged again.
Kael ducked beneath its swing, grabbed a sharp rock from the ground, and drove it into the creature's thigh. Black blood sprayed. The beast howled and backhanded him aside.
Kael hit the ground hard.
Pain exploded across his body.
His arms shook. His vision darkened at the edges.
You'll die like this, the voice whispered.
Broken. Meaningless.
The beast loomed over him, saliva dripping from its twisted jaw.
Kael's fingers dug into the dirt.
He remembered his father's eyes—unbowed.
His mother's scream—unfinished.
"I'm still here," Kael growled.
As the beast lunged, Kael rolled beneath it, grabbed the jagged edge of its exposed spine, and pulled with everything he had.
Muscle tore.
Bone cracked.
The creature shrieked in agony.
Kael climbed onto its back, ignoring the claws ripping into his legs, and slammed the sharp rock into its skull again and again and again.
Blood covered his hands.
His arms burned.
The world narrowed to motion and pain.
Finally, the beast collapsed.
Kael fell beside it, gasping, shaking uncontrollably.
For a long moment, he lay there, staring at the darkening sky.
He was alive.
Barely.
The seal burned hotter.
The shadow pressed against it—furious.
You could have ended it sooner.
Kael laughed weakly, a sound halfway to a sob.
"But I didn't."
He dragged himself to his feet.
That night, he did not sleep.
He stitched his wounds with bone needles carved from the beast's remains. He burned the flesh closed with fire. He ate raw meat despite the sickness it caused.
Every bite was survival.
Every breath was defiance.
Days passed.
Then weeks.
Kael moved deeper into the cursed lands. Each day brought new monsters—some faster, some stronger, some smarter. He learned quickly or died slowly.
He learned where to strike.
Where to endure.
When to retreat.
His body changed.
Muscles hardened. Scars layered over scars. His movements grew efficient, brutal, precise.
The seal remained.
But it cracked.
Just slightly.
At night, the shadow appeared in his dreams—watching silently as Kael fought without it. Studying him. Learning.
One night, as Kael sat beside a weak fire, sharpening a blade made from monster bone, he spoke without looking up.
"I won't be your puppet."
The shadow did not answer.
For the first time, it did not argue.
It waited.
Far above, in halls of gold and light, a presence stirred.
A goddess turned her head.
She felt it—not power, not yet—but something far more dangerous.
Growth.
And she smiled.
→ End of Chapter 7