The Godslayer's Return

Four: Blood in the Trees

The forest was so quiet that Kael’s instincts screamed danger as he moved through the dense undergrowth.

 Even the insects had gone silent, and the wind carried a faint metallic tang, the smell of blood. He slowed his pace, crouching low, every sense sharp.

The moonlight struggled to pierce the thick canopy, leaving most of the forest in shadow. 

Kael moved like a phantom, one hand on his dagger, the other lightly touching the trees as he passed, feeling for disturbances in the flow of spiritual energy.

There.

A faint ripple in the air, not a beast or a storm. This was different.

Kael vanished into the branches of a nearby tree, climbing silently until he had a better view. What he saw made him pause.

A clearing lay ahead, lit by the pale glow of spirit crystals embedded in wooden stakes. In the center of the clearing, a group of mercenaries knelt in a circle, heads bowed, their weapons laid before them. 

They weren’t praying, but were waiting.

And at the edge of the clearing stood a man Kael recognized instantly.

“Dorian,” Kael murmured.

The Serpent Fang Guild’s top enforcer. In his past life, Kael had seen Dorian slaughter entire sects alone. The man was a monster even by immortal standards.

If they’d sent Dorian after him, then the bounty wasn’t just high, it was personal.

Kael’s hand tightened on the Fallen Star shard strapped to his back. He couldn’t fight Dorian head-on yet, not in this weak body. 

But he couldn’t retreat either. Dorian would hunt him across the entire realm if he slipped away now.

Kael studied the clearing carefully, eyes narrowing. The mercenaries were spaced evenly, forming a loose perimeter. Runes were carved into the dirt between them, glowing faintly. A formation.

“A trap,” Kael whispered.

The forest itself felt hostile, as if the air was waiting to snap shut around him.

Kael’s lips curved into a faint smile. “Let’s spring for it, then.”

He moved silently, circling the clearing until he was directly behind one of the mercenaries. The man was focused on the treeline, his hand resting on his spear. He never heard Kael approach.

A flash of steel, a soft gurgle, and the man crumpled. Kael dragged him into the shadows, stripping his cloak and mask.

Moments later, Kael stepped into the clearing disguised as the dead mercenary. 

His hood cast his face in shadow, his dagger hidden beneath the cloak.

No one noticed the switch.

Dorian stood in the center of the formation, arms crossed, his scarred face illuminated by the spirit crystals. He was massive, nearly seven feet tall, with broad shoulders and cold, calculating eyes. 

His armor was black, trimmed with crimson, and a massive sword rested across his back.

“Report,” Dorian said, his deep voice carrying easily through the clearing.

A woman to Kael’s left stepped forward. “No sign of him yet, sir. The formation is stable.”

Dorian’s gaze swept the clearing. “He’s here. I can feel it.”

Kael suppressed a smile. The man wasn’t wrong.

He adjusted his stance subtly, shifting closer to one of the runes carved into the dirt. 

The formation hummed faintly beneath his feet, its energy rippling through the ground. It wasn’t a simple detection net. It was a suppression field. If he stepped fully inside, his strength would be cut in half.

Smart.

But not smart enough.

Kael crouched slightly, fingers brushing the rune’s edge. The formation was precise, intricate. Breaking it quietly would take time he didn’t have.

So he’d settle for loud.

He drew a small throwing knife from his sleeve, balancing it between his fingers. His gaze flicked to the far edge of the clearing, where another mercenary stood guard.

Kael threw the knife.

The blade struck the man’s neck with deadly accuracy. He collapsed instantly.

Chaos erupted.

“Enemy!” someone shouted.

Kael moved. He grabbed a second knife from his belt and hurled it at another guard, dropping him before anyone could react. Dorian roared, drawing his massive sword, the ground trembling under his spiritual pressure.

Kael ripped off the stolen cloak and dashed forward, slashing one mercenary’s throat as he passed.

The formation flared bright red, reacting to the bloodshed, but Kael was already moving.

 He darted between mercenaries, striking with deadly precision, each movement fluid and calculated.

“Draven!” Dorian bellowed, his voice like thunder. “You should’ve stayed dead!”

Kael smirked, ducking under a spear thrust. “You first.”

He hurled another knife at one of the formation’s core runes, shattering it. The glowing lines connecting the runes flickered violently.

“Formation’s destabilizing!” a mage shouted.

Dorian cursed and charged.

Kael barely avoided the first swing of the massive sword. The blade smashed into the ground, cracking the earth. The shockwave sent nearby mercenaries flying.

Dorian was fast for his size. 

Kael spun away, using a fallen mercenary’s body as cover. He hurled another knife at a second core rune, shattering it. The suppression field flickered again, weakening.

“Kill him!” Dorian roared.

The remaining mercenaries closed in, but Kael was already gone, weaving through the chaos like a shadow. His dagger flashed in the moonlight, finding throats and arteries with deadly precision.

Another rune shattered. The formation’s glow dimmed.

Dorian snarled, his spiritual energy flaring. “Enough!”

He swung his sword in a wide arc. A crescent of energy erupted from the blade, slicing through trees like paper. Kael barely ducked in time, the blast grazing his shoulder. Pain flared, but he ignored it.

He dashed toward the final core rune, knowing that once it was gone, the suppression field would collapse entirely.

“Too slow!” Dorian roared, leaping toward him.

Kael skidded to a stop, grabbed the Fallen Star shard, and slammed it into the ground. The relic pulsed, unleashing a shockwave of silver light that rippled through the clearing.

The formation shattered.

The backlash sent mercenaries flying in every direction, their screams echoing through the forest. Dorian staggered, momentarily stunned.

Kael seized the moment. He darted forward, slashing at Dorian’s side. The blade glanced off armor but left a deep gash. Dorian roared in fury, swinging his sword in a brutal counterattack.

Kael ducked and rolled, retreating to the edge of the clearing.

“Not bad,” Kael called, his tone mocking. “But you’re not ready for me.”

Dorian snarled, spiritual energy flaring around him like a storm. “You’re dead, boy!”

Kael smirked, vanishing into the forest.

By the time Dorian reached the treeline, Kael was gone.

Kael moved quickly, weaving through the trees until the glow of the clearing was far behind him. His shoulder throbbed where the energy blast had grazed him, but he didn’t slow.

That fight had been too close. If he hadn’t had the relic, Dorian would’ve killed him easily.

Still, the encounter had confirmed something: whoever was pulling the strings had resources, power, and a personal grudge.

Kael found a small cave and slipped inside, lighting a faint glow crystal. He leaned against the wall, examining his wound. It wasn’t deep, but it burned with residual energy.

He set the Fallen Star shard on the ground and closed his eyes, meditating. The relic’s energy flowed into him, soothing the pain and knitting his wound shut.

Minutes later, he opened his eyes, feeling stronger. The relic was accelerating his recovery, restoring his strength faster than he’d anticipated.

Kael’s lips curved into a faint smile. “Good. I’ll need it.”

He glanced toward the cave entrance. The wind outside carried faint echoes of distant shouts. Dorian wouldn’t give up easily.

Kael rested his hand on the shard. “Come, then,” he murmured. “Let’s see how many bodies it takes before they realize I’m not their prey.”

But in the back of his mind, he couldn’t shake the memory of the silver-haired woman’s warning.

“You are already in more danger than you realize.”

Kael smirked faintly. “I always am.”

Far away, beneath the crack in the heavens, a council of gods watched him through a scrying mirror.

“He’s alive,” one of them whispered.

“And he has the Fallen Star,” another growled.

A third god leaned forward, their voice cold. “Then we must send more than hunters. Send the Seraphim.”

The mirror’s surface rippled, showing Kael seated calmly in the cave, sharpening his dagger.

“He has no idea what’s coming,” the first god murmured.

And somewhere deep in the forest, a new presence stirred, a power far greater than Dorian’s, heading straight for Kael.