The corrupted soldiers did not scream.
They marched.
Steel boots struck stone in perfect rhythm, like a war drum beating inside Kael's skull. Their armor was old—ancient kingdom design—but twisted, fused with glowing red veins that pulsed like living flesh. Their eyes were empty.
No fear.
No hesitation.
No mercy.
Kael exhaled slowly.
"Alright," he murmured. "Let's see what you taught me."
The first soldier lunged.
Kael moved without thinking.
Time bent.
The world slowed, not completely—just enough. The blade in his hand burned brighter as he sidestepped, sliding past the strike and slashing upward. The soldier's armor split like brittle clay, red light spilling from the wound. The body collapsed, empty, lifeless.
Kael froze.
He had never moved like that before.
Another soldier charged. Then two more.
Kael leapt back, climbing a broken wall in a single fluid motion. His body obeyed him as if it had always known how to move—running across stone, vaulting over debris, landing without sound.
A memory surfaced.
Brotherhood training.
Moves he was taught but never mastered.
Now he mastered them.
"Focus," he whispered.
He closed his eyes for half a heartbeat—and the world slowed again.
This time, he controlled it.
Kael dropped from above, blade flashing. Two soldiers fell before they could react. The third raised a shield—
And the ground shook.
A heavy step echoed through the street.
The soldiers stepped aside.
From the smoke emerged something else.
Something bigger.
Its armor was forged from throne-stone itself, cracked and glowing, its body chained with runes that burned into the air. A massive blade rested on its shoulder, humming with the same red energy as the throne.
Kael felt it instantly.
A Guardian.
Not a soldier.
Not human.
A relic given form.
The Guardian's eyes ignited, and the air screamed.
BOSS ENGAGED
Kael smiled despite himself.
"Of course," he muttered.
The Guardian moved faster than its size allowed. Its blade crashed down, splitting the street open. Kael rolled aside, stone exploding where he had stood. He ran, climbed, slid—always moving, always adapting.
The Guardian learned.
Each attack became faster. Smarter.
Kael felt the power inside him surge, wild and unstable.
"Too slow," he whispered—and reached deeper.
Time shattered.
The world froze.
Ash hung in the air. Debris stopped mid-fall. The Guardian was a statue of rage and stone.
Kael moved.
He ran up the frozen blade, leaped, and drove his sword into the glowing core beneath the Guardian's chest.
The world resumed.
The Guardian screamed.
Light erupted, throwing Kael across the street. He hit the ground hard, rolling to a stop. His vision blurred. His chest burned.
The Guardian fell.
Its body crumbled into ash and light, leaving behind a glowing mark on the ground—a symbol of the throne.
Kael stared at it.
Slowly, the mark rose… and burned itself into his arm.
Pain exploded.
Kael screamed as runes carved themselves into his skin, glowing white-hot before fading into black scars.
A voice echoed in his mind, ancient and cold:
Skill Unlocked: Echo Step
Guardian defeated. Path opened.
Kael collapsed to one knee, breathing hard.
"This… is just the beginning, isn't it?" he whispered.
From the rooftops, a shadow watched him.
And smiled.