He pulled out the red mana passkey, placing it against the door's lock.
The ancient mechanism groaned and slowly gave way.
The door creaked open, revealing the .....Divine General.
There Kael saw him—bound in chains, surrounded by magical artifacts, dried blood crusted across his skin.
The air around him was heavy, oppressive, as if the room itself bowed beneath his presence.
Even in defeat, he was imposing.
The man whose name stirred only fear.
The man whose presence could turn the tide of battle with a single command.
Now, beaten, broken, crumbling... yet defiance still burned in his eyes.
Kael stood at the threshold, black robes flowing like shadow, red mask hiding his features.
Above, Yue hovered in silent witness, her light refracting through the dust-choked air.
It was a moment suspended in time—spectacular and grave.
Then, slowly, the Divine General—his uncle—lifted his head. Chains rattled. His eyes locked onto Kael.
A voice, deep and heavy as a war drum, broke the silence.
"Who?"
"I'm the devil," Kael said.
A rasping laugh echoed from the bound man. It was dry, cracked—like wind scraping across old bones.
Kael saw his face clearly now. Blood streaked across it in dark, dried rivulets.
One eye was gone, blasted out or torn away through torture. The other remained shut, swollen or too tired to open. Yet the presence, the gravity of the man, had not faded.
The Divine General's voice came low and deliberate.
"What do you want?"
Kael stood motionless. The red mask concealed his expression, but something deeper stirred within him.
He answered without thought, as if the question had reached a part of him he hadn't yet dared to know.
"....this world."
Silence fell. Heavy. Complete.
It wasn't until the words left his mouth that he realized—his uncle hadn't been asking why Kael had come here.
He had been asking something greater.
What was his purpose? His ambition? His truth?
And from that quiet place within, Kael had answered.
"You are… interesting," the Divine General murmured, voice rough with disuse.
"Even I only thought about this empire."
A dry, humorless laugh escaped him. "But you… I like you."
His chains clinked as he shifted slightly.
"So—why have you come here, haa?"
Kael stood firm, the shadows of his robes flickering with mana.
"I want your support."
Another laugh, harsher now.
"My support? From a broken man? Crushed by betrayal and my own failures?" He scoffed.
"What could you possibly gain from that?"
Kael's voice remained calm.
"I don't care. I want an alliance."
The Divine General tilted his head, something cold and calculating behind the torn face.
"And what do I gain?"
Kael's lips curled behind the mask.
"Revenge."
Silence fell again.
Deep. Thoughtful.
"...Interesting," the old warrior muttered.
Kael tilted his head slightly.
"But you will need to swear loyalty to me."
The Divine General barked out another hoarse laugh.
"Are you worthy?"
Kael raised his sword, resting it on his shoulder with quiet confidence.
"Why don't you test me?"
Without another word, he moved to the lock. The red mana passkey hummed as it made contact.
Ancient runes flickered, and the restraints began to dissolve—chains falling one by one, magical seals dissipating into smoke.
Above, Yue hovered, eyes wide.
"Are you sure about this?" she asked, voice edged with concern.
Kael nodded once.
"Yeah. If I want his support… I have to earn it."
The final restraint clattered to the floor.
The Divine General rose—slowly, like a mountain stirred from slumber.
One leg was broken, twisted unnaturally beneath him. His body bore the ruin of years of torment.
Flesh torn.
Bones weakened. An eye lost to torture. And yet—
His will hadn't dimmed.
Even now, there was no mistaking it. The pressure in the air, the weight of presence.
He was a Rank 3.
Kael stood before him—still only Rank 1.
He would need to be fast.
Precise. Ruthless.
Because even broken, his uncle was still a monster of war.
And this was the only way to make him kneel.
The chamber dimmed as the final sigil vanished. Dust swirled.
Silence reigned.
Then the Divine General moved.
Despite the broken leg, he lunged—impossibly fast. His hand crackled with arcane light as he formed a sigil mid-air.
"Shatter Pulse."
Kael leapt sideways as the floor where he stood erupted in a violent blast, stone fragments slashing through the air.
He rolled, cloak torn, and came up with his blade drawn, mana rippling down the steel.
The Divine General didn't pause. Another glyph.
"Gravity Lash."
The room bent. Kael's body slammed into the ground as if the air itself had turned against him. Gritting his teeth, he focused, fingers curling into a gesture.
"Moon Blade."
A crescent of pale, cutting light carved the air, slicing across the space between them.
The General twisted just enough for it to sear past his shoulder, cutting deep.
Blood sprayed, but he didn't falter.
Kael ran.
Through fire.
Through shrapnel.
Through tendrils of shadow that tore through the floor like serpents.
The General summoned chains made of bone, whipping them toward Kael's throat.
He ducked under, spun, MoonBlade flickering to life in his hand—an arc of cold light slicing across the room.
The General deflected it with a shield made of screaming faces, the souls of his fallen enemies howling from the barrier before shattering like glass.
Kael was already behind him, stabbing low—gutting.
Steel pierced flesh.
The General grunted — then exploded in a burst of mana.
Kael flew backward, skin burning, cloak catching fire.
The General's voice boomed across the chamber, heavy with disdain.
"You're ruthless. Good. But not enough."