On a quiet rooftop, under a sky bruised by twilight, the wind stirred softly.
And then—
A swirl of crimson and amber leaves began to condense from the air.
Two figures formed from the drifting fragments—piece by piece—until Kael and the Divine General stood solid once more.
Kael, breath ragged, doubled over slightly—his lungs burning, his vision swimming.
"What the hell?" he snapped.
"If you had a teleportation spell this strong… why didn't you use it earlier?"
The Divine General let out a low, amused laugh.
"Because I hate that spell."
Kael blinked. "Hate it? It's incredible."
But the General's expression darkened. A shadow passed through his eyes—quiet, deep, old.
"It's not just any spell," he said softly. "Autumn Fade is soulbound."
Kael's eyes widened.
Soulbound.
Even the word carried weight. In the world of magic, anything tied to the soul was sacred. Dangerous. Powerful beyond measure. The kind of thing that could one day unlock the path to Rank 9.
"You mean… this spell is tied to your soul?" Kael asked, breath catching.
The General gave a tired smile.
"Yes. And no. It's complicated. But… let's just say it's one of the reasons I ended up in chains."
Kael understood immediately. The General didn't want to talk about it.
There was a pause.
Wind moved around them like ghosts.
Then the General asked, voice low, "So… what now?"
Kael chuckled darkly, the sound sharp as broken glass.
"Now? We plot against the entire House."
That made the General raise an eyebrow.
"Oh?" he said, almost smiling. "And how exactly do you plan to do that?"
Kael turned toward him, his eyes gleaming.
And as he laid out the plan, piece by piece, the Divine General's face slowly changed—first to confusion, then to disbelief, and finally… to something like awe.
"You really are something else," the General murmured.
Kael grinned behind his mask.
The Divine General looked at Kael for a long moment, the wind pulling gently at his scorched cloak.
"It's good I'm not your enemy," he said, voice low and grave.
Kael met his gaze.
"And it's good," he replied, quiet but firm, "that you're not mine."
Neither smiled.
There was only silence—the kind that came between warriors who understood the weight of survival, of pain, and of what was still to come.
The rooftops around them were quiet. But war was already whispering on the horizon.
Kael exhaled slowly, each breath scraping against the burn in his lungs.
"Alright," he muttered. "I'm leaving. Remember the plan."
The Divine General gave a single nod, then stepped back.
With a soft rustle, Autumn Fade activated again—leaves swirling upward in a cyclone of fading light.
Within seconds, he was gone.
Kael stood alone.
He groaned, rubbing the side of his temple.
"I swear… I need that spell."
Yue's voice came sharp and cold in his ear.
"And I swear, if you ever use the Dreamrealm like that again—"
"Yeah, yeah." He waved a hand weakly.
"I know. 'Not stable,' 'not in Rank 1' , 'mind could shatter like glass'—heard it all."
"You nearly did shatter," she snapped. "You're not ready to channel that much psychic pressure. You're lucky I was watching—"
"I'm lucky, huh?" Kael grunted. His legs felt like stone. "Can't even go to the central hospital. They'll flag me."
He winced as another throb of pain tore through his head.
Then he saw it.
Just across the rooftop, tucked between alley shadows and lamp glow—a small, crooked church.
Abandoned. Forgotten. Just a few broken windows and a rusted iron bell.
Kael's lips curled beneath his mask.
The smile wasn't kind.
It wasn't grateful.
It was hungry.
"Perfect," he whispered.
###
Night had settled like a velvet shroud over the quiet town.
The small church of Saintess Nyra stood cloaked in shadow, its worn stones bathed faintly by pale moonlight.
Inside, the flicker of a single candle danced against ancient walls, casting long shadows.
Nyra moved softly through the nave, her steps careful and light. The day's work weighed on her—the prayers said, the wounds tended, the whispered comforts to those who came seeking hope.
She was alone now.
Kneeling before the simple altar, she whispered a prayer to the Night Goddess, her voice gentle, reverent.
She had never joined the main church—not out of rebellion, but out of quiet kindness, preferring this humble sanctuary where she could protect those who needed her most.
Rising, she made her way toward a heavy wooden door tucked behind the altar.
Behind it lay the orphans she cared for—small children, innocent and fragile, asleep under threadbare blankets.
Nyra's smile was soft as she peered inside.
"They're safe," she whispered, a warmth filling her chest.
"For now."
Her nature was kind and gentle—sometimes timid, always respectful.
She hummed a soft tune as she closed the door, her heart lightened by their peaceful breathing.
She was just about to rest herself when—
A cold, hard blade pressed against her neck.
"Don't move," a voice hissed behind her ear, sharp and low.
Her heart sank like a stone.
Slowly, trembling, she turned—
Her eyes widening in shock, a scream caught in her throat—
It was the Devil.
Devil had come for her.
The quiet sanctuary suddenly felt suffocating.
Kael was about to ask her to heal him—the very reason he had come here—but before he could speak, Nyra broke down, sobbing like her heart was shattering.
"Mr. Devil… please… kill me," she gasped between tears, voice trembling like a leaf in a storm.
"Let those innocent children live… please."
With an almost theatrical flair, she dropped into a dramatic pose—hands clasped as if begging the gods themselves, eyes wide and shining with tragic resolve.
Kael blinked. Deadpan beneath his mask, he simply stared.
Kael's thoughts simmered with irritation.
Why's this bitch acting like I'm here to slaughter everyone? I'm here to heal.
Yue's laughter cut through the air—sharp, mocking, impossible to ignore.
"Look at you — you made the little girl cry."