The fortress smelled of smoke and iron again.Days had passed since the High Temple’s decree, and already Kael could feel the world shifting against him. Sect alliances were forming in the shadows. Armies were gathering beyond the mountains.But within Black Fang, silence ruled. The disciples trained until their bones screamed. Fear had been burned out of them, replaced by something sharper.Kael stood before the courtyard altar, the crimson seal glowing faintly on his chest. The air shimmered with power, dense, heavy, wrong. Behind him knelt two hundred of his strongest survivors. Each had walked through fire and battle to remain here. Each had chosen him over the world.They were his legacy.And now, he would make them more.Aelira stood at the edge of the courtyard, watching with a cold, quiet dread. The ritual circle beneath Kael’s feet pulsed with dark light, drawn from the Godslayer fragment at the altar’s center.“Kael,” she said softly, “this isn’t strengthening them, it’s co

The fortress was quiet again, too quiet for a place that had just tasted blood. The torches lining the hall flickered weakly, their flames trembling against walls scarred by battle. The scent of steel and smoke hung heavy in the air, and the echo of footsteps, Kael Draven’s broke the stillness.He dragged the masked assassin’s limp body across the marble floor. Every pull left a dark smear, a trail of crimson leading toward the shattered pillar at the chamber’s center. The wind whispered through the broken windows, carrying faint cries from the courtyard where the last of the bounty hunters were being put down.Kael stopped, chest heaving. His aura still shimmered faintly red, flaring in rhythm with his heartbeat. He crouched, ripped the mask free, and froze.The face beneath the mask was carved into his memory.Dark hair streaked with silver. A scar across the brow that Kael himself had mended long ago. The eyes, sharp, defiant, and all too human stared back at him with the same mi

The air inside the Godforge pulsed with heat and dread.The walls trembled, molten veins glowing like arteries beneath the mountain’s skin. Kael Draven stood amid the ruin, the second fragment of the Godslayer Blade burning crimson in his hand. The System’s warnings still rang faintly in his ears.[Divine Anomaly Awakening Detected.][Category: Echo Construct.]Aelira’s wings flared in alarm. “Something’s coming,” she said, stepping closer to Kael. “Whatever it is…”She didn’t finish. The ground split open behind them, molten metal spilling out in a wave of blinding light. From the heart of that eruption, a shape rose, tall, gleaming, and unbearably familiar.It was a man.No, not a man. A construct built in his image.Silver armor carved in the same design Kael once wore during the Age of Empires, a long coat of black scales, and in its hand, a blade identical to the original Godslayer. Its eyes burned a cold gold, the eyes of a weapon, not a soul.Aelira’s breath caught. “That… tha

Dawn crept over the mountains like a reluctant ghost.The Black Fang Sect still smoldered from its last battle, half the banners torn, walls scorched, the air thick with smoke and the faint sting of divine ash. Yet Kael Draven stood on the highest terrace, silent, the wind tangling his black hair as the Godslayer Blade hung across his back like a chained star.Below him, disciples rebuilt in silence. Their movements were mechanical, their eyes hollow. Ever since the blade’s awakening, Kael’s presence seemed to bend the air itself, sharp, heavy, almost divine.Aelira stood a few paces behind him, her expression unreadable. “They’re afraid of you,” she murmured.Kael’s gaze didn’t shift. “Fear is the first step to understanding power.”“Or to worship,” she said softly.He didn’t answer. His fingers brushed the hilt of the blade absently, feeling its pulse through the leather. It had been silent since the night in the forge, but he could still sense its hunger coiled like smoke in his v

Smoke still clung to the skies when the banners rose. Across the Mortal Realm, whispers of the calamity at Black Fang turned into terror. The gods had struck and failed. A mortal had devoured divine wrath and lived. Kael Draven’s name spread like a plague of thunder. Now, he stood upon a cliffside as dawn bled across the horizon, his cloak dark against the rising sun. Below him, thousands of cultivators knelt in unison, disciples of sects that once mocked him, their banners now bearing the mark of a fang devouring a sun. The Black Fang Sect had become an army. Kael’s voice carried through the wind, deep and unyielding. “Heaven’s law has ruled you with fear. I will give you a new law, your own strength.” His words were met with thunderous cries. “Long live the Lord of Fangs!” Aelira stood a step behind him, her white cloak fluttering. The morning light caught her face, but her eyes held only shadow. She had watched Kael defy the heavens, break calamity, and now, watch him