2025-07-03 10:29:19Chapter 6: Ivory Robe
Kael lay on his new bed like a silk-clothed war god. The chair was a king-size cloud: ridiculously comfortable, and unfairly costly, and big enough to seat a family of aristocratic brats. The room was as though a nobleman flat, with marble floors, velvet curtains and a chandelier that would have been worth a museum of insolent luxury. The sheets even whispered affluence. He smiled into the pillows. Kael, with his arms extended, and his legs over-crossed like a waiter awaiting his supper, was thinking to himself, This bed costs more than some cities I have bombed. It was a week since he had any training. The voice of the System was breathing like a reproving breath through his ear-- dry, critical, irritatingly correct. “And what of it?” Kael answered with a smirk. I would not see much growth at all. At this stage, statistics crawl slowly like snails. You lose the fact that every point counts, and especially to a healer. When you were scraping your knees to Level 10, the muscle-for-brain damage dealers would be visiting you in months. Kael twitched his brows. “Months? A bit quick, isn’t it? I labored a year. Bled over it. Nearly wept over it. Almost.” Healing gave you experience. Others acquire it through whacking animals using metal sticks or letting them bang against something. It is a game and you are playing chess and everybody is stabbing Go boards. And you say: healing, is a trashy subject? “No. I mean life is harsh. You should know that more than anybody. Kael laughed, acrimonious and shouty. “That I do, old friend. I do so.” There was a knock on the door. Kael rolled himself out of the mattress like a man out of a lover, dragging his heels to open it. Not Elira. Instead, a woman dressed like a maid from some noble's perverse fantasy handed him a box, then left without a word. ‘Brainwashed?’ No. Just a maid. That’s what they’re like. Kael shrugged. He tossed the box onto his mattress and cracked it open. Inside lay a robe, white as bleached bone, etched with quiet runes that shimmered in low light. It hummed with restrained magic — like a blade wrapped in silk. Put it on. It’s equipment. Kael arched a brow. ‘We’re wearing fashion now?’ It’s functional fashion. Try not to drool. As the robe settled across his shoulders, the world pulsed. The System's interface bloomed open like a holy script. --- Ivory Robe [Uncommon] +50 HP +50 MP +10 INT Effect: Increases skill range by 10 meters --- ‘Holy fuck.’ Kael’s eyes widened. Equipment could do that? He snapped open his status screen, watching the numbers tick upward like a slot machine hitting gold. --- HP: 498 [↑50] MP: 834 [↑50] INT: 114 [↑10] --- ‘I feel like a cheat code.’ His grin widened. Don't wet yourself. That robe is barely uncommon. It's the beginner tier of power dressing. Now check the note. Kael blinked. Note? He dug around the box and found it: a sticky scrap folded under the silk lining. --- Hope you like this gift. P.S. You never know what can go wrong during monster hunts. Be on guard. — Elira --- Kael stared at the note. His heart softened against his will. ‘That’s... sweet.’ He crumpled it and tossed it back into the box like a guilty teenager trying to hide feelings. Another knock. Of course. This time, it was Maren. Silent. Calm. Still brainwashed. "Let's go," she said, turning away before he could say anything. Her footsteps echoed like a ticking clock as they left the academy. Kael followed. He couldn’t help but feel weird, being escorted everywhere like a glorified errand boy. Which, to be fair, he technically still was. The robe drew attention like a beacon. It wasn’t gaudy, but magic had its own gravity. Heads turned. Eyes lingered. At the orphanage gate, Maren stopped. "Wait here. Someone will pick you up shortly." Then she vanished back into the cafeteria. Like smoke. Kael stood in silence for a moment, arms crossed. ‘This is ridiculous. I feel like I need a parental signature just to exist.’ A sleek black car pulled up moments later, the kind of sedan you’d only see in mafia films or bad decisions. A man stepped out, wearing a suit sharp enough to stab someone. "I’m Ron. Your driver." That was all he said. No emotion. No smile. Kael blinked. ‘Are we assassinating someone or what?’ Don’t forget your chauffeur tip. Oh wait. You don’t get tips. ‘Shut up.’ The inside of the car was decadent. Like someone had skinned a rich man’s sofa and wrapped it around every surface. Kael sank into the seat with a noise of sinful comfort. The drive stretched on. Ron said nothing. Not a word. A mute wraith in a black suit. Kael didn’t mind. Talking was for people with energy. And friends. His mind wandered. Back to his old life. To his military days. To the people he’d lost. To the silence that had followed. ‘Still kind of the same, huh?’ he mused aloud. You have me. Kael paused. Smiled. ‘That I do, you nosy little bastard.’ Eventually, the car slowed to a stop in a forest clearing full of black vehicles and white tension. Ron stepped out first and opened the door for Kael. “We are here.” Kael emerged and scanned the area. A checkpoint sat ahead, with suited officials checking IDs. A man held a clipboard and checked off names. ‘ID? I don’t have an ID! Fucking Elira forgot to—’ Relax. Walk up. Worst case, they call you an idiot. ‘Gee, thanks for the motivational speech.’ Kael approached the gate. "Hello. I don’t have an ID, but my name should be listed. Kael. Healer. Here for the hunt." The man stared at him, professional mask slipping for a second. "This isn’t a playground, kid." Kael didn’t blink. "Just check the list. My team’s waiting." It was a lie, of course. But lies are easier to believe when they're wrapped in confidence. The man sighed, retreated to his booth, and scanned the clipboard. There it was: --- Kael Age: 9 Class: Healer Affiliation: Amara Orphanage --- "Here." He handed Kael a small note. "A-7. Go-on and locate the officer in charge. Kael grumbled and stumbled forward. The wood appeared to bend round him, as though he had entered an illusion. And all of a sudden there was an enormous base camp, swirling with motion--trucks, arms, tents, shouting--all controlled anarchy. A gentleman brought him to the A-7 tent and disappeared without saying a word, possibly because of spatial magic. 'What are they hiding?' The whole clearing is a veiled area--conspiratorial to the world, and dangerous. 'Protection from what? It is only a flight of level ones after goblins.' At the center is a dungeon. The weak ones are even worth their weight in mana stones. Kael shook and took up the tent. In the tent itself there was nothing but a table and some chairs, probably intended to hold tactical conferences or for naps. One of the chairs was occupied by Kael, waiting. Twenty minutes passed. A strong, bristling fellow came in, carrying his shield on his back like an impregnable castle, and a short sword in his hand. He turned his back on Kael and sat back in a chair and yelled into a phone. 'The Tank.' Two men with swords came in--old drinking buddies, talking like old drinking buddies. Then came an elf, blond, bearing a bow on her back, long graceful ears that looked like those of an opera in the forest. 'A... elf?' Kael blinked. 'Do we have dwarves too? Please say yes.' Probably. No fun, System. As the elf sat the room appeared to change. There came a silence, and the breeze shifted, and Kael felt the hierarchy which had no tongue established. The swordsmen spoke first. "Nox, swordsman." "Zane, swordsman." His phone was raised, and he looked into the tank. "Eric, tank." The elf replied. "Joanna, archer." Then everyone looked at Kael, small and young and maybe too young, and wearing a gleaming robe, as though he had stolen it himself out of a bishop. He smiled. "Kael. Healer." Silence.
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Chapter 82: Blood That ScreamsThe frenzied Vampire continued its assault with the kind of obsessive cruelty that suggested either remarkable discipline or a deeply personal hatred for Kael’s continued breathing, as bolts of condensed force tore through the air toward him at speeds that made perception itself feel like a delayed luxury, forcing him to rely on instinct and precognition rather than sight as he twisted, stepped, and slid through the storm like a man dancing inside a guillotine factory that had just discovered rhythm.It took far too long for clarity to claw its way into the chaos, but repetition has a way of educating even the most distracted mind, and Kael finally caught the pattern hidden inside the madness, noticing that each projectile shimmered with a dark red sheen that refracted light like wet glass and pulsed with a viscosity that made his skin crawl, the color unmistakable and obscene in its familiarity.“They are using blood,” he mu
81
Chapter 81: Coffin Beneath the DirtKael moved through the uneven hills with the careful irritation of a man who knew exactly where the problem was and deeply resented that it existed at all, his awareness stretched across the terrain as clusters of hostile red marks burned patiently on his mental map, all of them gathered together like idiots waiting to be scolded, and he made absolutely certain that no curious soul or well meaning hero was tailing him because this was personal, messy, and very much a one man inconvenience that he intended to finish without witnesses.The land itself seemed wrong the closer he drew, the ground rising and falling in shallow waves as if the earth had once tried to escape and failed, and when the first shapes revealed themselves, crawling out of shadow and rot, Kael felt that familiar, tired click of recognition settle into place because these things were not shadows, not truly, but imitations stitched together from death and bad dec
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Chapter 80: SimilarKael lay beside the crackling fire, his body trembling under the lingering ache of exhaustion. The System had forced him to “train” for four relentless hours, and he now looked like someone who’d wrestled with death and barely crawled back. His hair clung damply to his forehead, and his breaths came shallow, smoky in the cold air.To make matters worse, he could feel the weight of two gazes fixed on him. The longer it went on, the more uncomfortable it became.Bored and sore, Kael finally turned his attention toward Astraea. Talking seemed better than sinking further into the silence. He didn’t know much about this world, about its customs or its strange truths, but she fascinated him—too quiet, too composed, too otherworldly.He wanted to ask her something simple, something that wouldn’t sound foolish. Yet before he could, she moved first.Astraea approached the firelight and sat beside him. Her silver eyes shimm
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Chapter 79: Cold ---Kael sat in front of the fire, staring into it as if the flames could explain why the silver-haired woman across from him wouldn’t stop staring at him like a particularly interesting ghost.‘She’s still staring at me,’ he thought, trying not to meet her eyes again.The cave was quiet except for the occasional crackle of burning wood. Night had fully claimed the forest outside, leaving only the trembling halo of the campfire. Orin seemed calmer now, the madness in his eyes cooled into something that almost resembled rest.But Astraea... she was something else entirely. A presence that shouldn’t exist. A fragment of his past wearing human shape.Kael could feel the connection between them — not imagined, not metaphorical, but stitched through the soul like a needle through scar tissue. The memory she awakened in him was too vivid to dismiss, yet too incomplete to understand.When he finally looked back, sh
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Chapter 78: The Odd Woman[Kael’s POV]“How does it taste?”Kael didn’t even have the luxury of answering before his body decided to violently betray him. He bent forward and vomited everything onto the stone floor of the cave, the sound echoing wetly in the cold air. That made it the fourth monster he’d ruined today. Four steaming piles of culinary failure, each more inedible than the last.They looked edible enough—beast-like, muscular things that probably considered him a snack in another life—but once he cooked them, every bite tasted like rotten mana condensed into despair.Orin had already fallen asleep deeper in the cave, curled against the wall like an overgrown cat. The cave itself was safe, wrapped in a natural mana flow that repelled beasts. Kael should’ve been at peace. Should’ve been, if not for the yellow dot blinking on his Halo’s minimap, a few dozen meters away.The dot hadn’t moved. It just watched.“Wh
Chapter 77: Safe
Chapter 77: Safe---Kael had been walking for what felt like forever, the weight of the small, unconscious child slung across his shoulder pressing into his bones like a punishment he didn’t remember earning. Two hours. Maybe more. His map promised a stretch of grassy serenity up ahead, but right now it all felt like the same dry, corpse-colored earth, sighing under the heat of a sun that refused to die.The kid hadn’t stirred once, not even a grunt of awareness—just the occasional twitch or mumble, like he was wrestling ghosts in his dreams.Kael exhaled. “Should I just leave this kid here? My shoulder’s starting to ache.”He said it with his usual sarcasm, the kind that made it hard to tell whether he meant it or not. But the boy must have heard the words somewhere deep inside that sleeping shell, because he jerked awake so violently he almost crashed face-first into the dirt.Kael caught him mid-fall by the foot. “You c
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