Eldenshire looked different after everything.
Same cobbled streets. Same magic-lit lamps flickering overhead. Same towering halls and sharp rooftops laced with stone glyphs glowing faint blue in the early dusk.
But Kael moved through the city like a ghost.
People bustled past, laughing, chatting, negotiating loud deals from market carts—but it all passed through him. Like sound behind a wall of glass.
His ribs still ached from the Abyssal Hollow. The bruises were deep. But that wasn't what hurt the most.
What hurt was Eryn's voice, still echoing.
"You're not nothing. Even if they tried to make you believe it."
He didn't know how to carry words like that. He wasn't sure he'd earned them.
He wandered for a while before he ended up at the one place he swore he wasn't ready to face.
The Adventurer's Guild Hall.
It towered in the center of the plaza, wrapped in polished obsidian pillars and engraved doors depicting ancient hunts. Inside, the noise hit instantly—armor clinking, drinks sloshing, voices barking contracts across tables.
He almost turned around.
Almost.
But then he spotted the request board, and his feet kept walking.
His eyes drifted over the parchment-covered board, missions pinned and fluttering with guild seals. C-ranks. B-ranks. A few suicidal A-ranks no sane person would take solo.
He wasn't here to take one.
He was just… looking.
And then he heard it.
"Don't touch that quest. It's way out of your league."
A snide voice rang from across the hall.
Kael's head turned slowly.
A small crowd had formed near the northern board. At the center stood a girl—probably Kael's age—with long blue hair pulled into a damp braid that shimmered under the hall's lanternlight. Her robes were soaked at the hem, and a silver staff leaned against the post beside her. Small droplets clung to her skin and sleeves, as if she hadn't quite dried off from training.
She looked calm. Still. But Kael caught the twitch in her fingers.
A Waterweaver. Alone.
Facing her were two very familiar silhouettes.
Leo.
Callista.
Still draped in Ironclaw colors.
"Didn't realize water dancers were applying for B-rank missions now," Leo sneered.
Callista gave a light laugh. "She's cute. Probably thinks she's got some untapped potential."
The girl raised her chin. "I didn't ask for your opinion."
"Oh, but you need it," Callista said sweetly. "Unless you're looking to drown and die at the same time."
She reached toward the quest slip.
Leo slapped his hand across the board to block it.
That's when Kael moved.
He didn't even think about it.
His body was in motion before his mind caught up—cutting through the hall, eyes locked on Leo.
"Back off," he said flatly.
Leo turned.
And for a second—just a second—his expression wavered.
Then it twisted into a smirk. "Well. If it isn't our favorite dropout."
Callista blinked in mock surprise. "Kaelion. I thought you finally crawled into a hole and died. What brings you back to civilization?"
Kael didn't look at her. His gaze stayed on the girl.
"You alright?" he asked her quietly.
She nodded. "I wasn't asking for help."
"I know," Kael said. "But I've been where you're standing."
He turned back to Leo.
"And I know exactly what they're doing."
Leo snorted. "Oh, here we go. Mister 'I survived a dungeon and now I'm special.'"
Kael didn't flinch.
"You humiliated me for a year. Lied. Sabotaged me. Stole my letters. And for what? Because I didn't have some flashy magic day one?"
Callista opened her mouth, but Kael cut her off.
"No. You don't get to speak."
His voice was steady, but cold.
"You're not dangerous. You're petty. And you're loudest when you think no one's watching."
Around them, the hall had started to quiet.
More adventurers were turning. Watching.
Callista's face darkened. "You want another round, Kael?"
He stepped forward.
"No," he said. "I don't need to fight you."
He looked her dead in the eyes.
"I already won."
Leo stepped forward like he might throw a punch.
But he didn't.
Because now there were eyes on them.
Veteran adventurers. Guild officials. Even a few mages from the Arcane Table.
And Leo—stupid as he was—knew better than to start a scene here.
He sneered. "Come on, Cal."
Callista lingered a second longer. Then she turned, her smile gone.
Kael didn't watch them leave.
Instead, he looked at the girl.
She stood a little straighter now, but the caution hadn't left her eyes. Her staff rested lightly in one hand, damp sleeves clinging to her arms. Her blue braid still shimmered with leftover mana, like a current flowing beneath her skin.
"You okay?" he asked.
She nodded slowly. "Yeah. I think so."
He offered a faint smile. "They're not worth listening to."
She smiled back—small, but genuine. "Thanks. For what you did back there."
Kael shrugged. "Didn't do much."
"You did enough." She adjusted her grip on the staff. "I'm Amara."
Kael nodded. "I'm Kael. Nice meeting you."
There was a pause between them. Not awkward. Just quiet.
Then Kael asked, "Why aren't you in a guild?"
Amara's gaze drifted toward the boards. "I tried. Most of them already have their rosters full. The others…" She hesitated. "Well. Let's just say not every guild is made for people like me."
Kael tilted his head. "What do you mean?"
She looked at him again. Not bitter. Just honest. "I don't want power. Or status. I just want a team that cares. People who have each other's backs. A guild where... someone like you wouldn't be the exception."
She gave a small, almost embarrassed laugh.
"I guess I'm still hoping that kind of guild shows up."
Kael didn't say anything.
But something about her words stuck—like they found space inside him and refused to leave.
Then Amara added quietly, almost shyly, "Let's meet again someday."
She smiled gently, eyes soft.
"It'd be nice to have a guildmate like you."
And then she walked away, disappearing into the crowd.
Kael stood still for a long moment.
And then—
A sharp pulse of pain slammed through his chest.
He staggered, one hand clamping over his ribs, breath hitching.
His Energy Channel flared. Not violently, but raw—like the wound hadn't finished scarring. His veins buzzed with residual mana, the kind that didn't belong in a human body.
His knees bent slightly, and he braced himself against the quest board.
This wasn't just aftershock.
It was his ability trying to adapt—again. Rebalancing. Realigning.
Like the Abyssal Hollow had changed more than just his strength.
He clenched his jaw, waiting for the burn to pass.
It didn't.
Not completely.
The pain that had faded days ago returned with a vengeance—sharper, deeper, and more alive than before. His Energy Channel flared beneath his skin, like lightning cracking in every limb. His heartbeat staggered, struggling to match the rhythm of something he didn't understand.
Kael took a step back from the board.
Then another.
Then he turned and walked.
Fast.
Through the hall. Past the lanterns. Out into the street. Away from the lights. Away from the people. His breathing was ragged by the time he reached the edge of the plaza, slipping down an alley and disappearing into the dark corridors of Eldenshire's abandoned east quarter.
He didn't want anyone to see.
Didn't want anyone to ask.
He just needed to let it out.
The alley led to a forgotten courtyard — cracked stone tiles covered in dust, a fountain long dried up, and silence pressing in on every wall. Moonlight trickled in through a broken arch.
Kael fell to his knees.
His hands hit the stone.
And the energy inside him exploded.
A pulse of raw force radiated out from his body—distorting the air, cracking the ground, making the very space around him feel heavier. His Energy Channel screamed beneath his skin, like it was trying to tear its way out. His body trembled, drenched in cold sweat, blood from his nose hitting the floor.
He couldn't hold it back anymore.
He screamed—not loud, not fierce, just shattered—as the corrupted core's residue fought to tear him open from the inside.
His vision blurred.
His limbs gave out.
He collapsed face-first into the dirt.
He didn't know how long he lay there.
But footsteps came.
Quiet. Cautious. Light as a whisper.
Then a Female voice
"…You're not dead, are you?"
Kael couldn't answer.