Kaelen didn't wait for the guards to recover. As the crowd began to scream and scramble away, he turned on his heel and walked. He didn't run. He didn't need to.
“That's it, runaway little boy, you are good at it.” Caspian shouted, Kaelen kept shut, just walking away. "You should have killed him," Erebos hissed in his mind. The beast sounded hungry, his voice scraping against Kaelen’s thoughts. "The blond one. I could feel his heart fluttering like a trapped bird. One squeeze, Kaelen. That's all it would have taken." "Not yet," Kaelen whispered. "I have to find Elara." He left the music and everything behind, he can't lie to himself that he was not hurt—hid heart feels shattered but he will show all of them, they should sit back and watch. He walked toward the edge of town, where the houses grew smaller and the roads were dirty. The air here was always choked. He reached his house. It looked worse than he remembered. The roof was sagging, and the door was hanging by a single rusted hinge. He pushed it open. It didn't make a sound. The inside was cold. His parents were gone. The table where they used to sit and mock him was covered in a thick layer of dust. But in the corner, on a bed of dry straw and old blankets, a small figure lay perfectly still. Kaelen’s heart felt like it was being squeezed. He rushed over and knelt by the bed. "Elara?" She looked exactly the same as she had four years ago. She hadn't grown an inch. Her face was pale, almost like snow, and her long hair was spread out across the straw. Her chest rose and fell in a slow, steady rhythm, but her eyes remained shut. "She is not sleeping, boy," a voice said from the curtains. Kaelen spun around, his hand glowing with a faint black mist. An old woman stepped out from behind a curtain. She was holding a bowl of bitter-smelling herbs. Kaelen recognized her—Old Martha, the local healer. "Who are you?" Martha asked, her eyes narrowing as she looked at Kaelen’s tattered cloak. "And why are you in this dead house?" Kaelen stood up, pulling his hood back just enough for her to see his face. "It's Kaelen, Martha." The old woman gasped, the bowl slipping from her fingers and splashing on the floor. "Kaelen? But... they said you died in the East Woods. They said a demon tore you apart." "I survived," Kaelen said, his voice hard. He turned back to his sister. "What happened to her? Why won't she wake up?" Martha sighed, leaning against the wall. "About two years ago, she stopped believing you were dead. She ran into the woods every night, calling your name. One morning, we found her lying at the edge of the forest. She was like this. Cold. Unmoving. I've tried every herb I know, but nothing works. It’s a curse, Kaelen. A dark one, your parents left her, they feed on Caspian's money too, so they tour the world as they please." He was not surprised by his parents' act, he always knew how much they hated responsibility. Kaelen reached out and touched Elara’s hand. It was freezing. "Erebos," Kaelen thought. "What is this?" The beast groaned in his mind, and Kaelen felt a strange sensation behind his eyes, as if Erebos were looking through them. "This isn't a beast curse, boy," Erebos growled. His voice was no longer bored; it was sharp and serious. "This is high-level sorcery. It is clean. It is precise. This was done by a human hand." "A human did this?" Kaelen’s blood began to boil. "Why?" "Look at her neck," Erebos commanded. Kaelen moved Elara’s hair aside. Hidden near the base of her skull was a tiny, faint mark. It looked like a black needle prick, surrounded by a ring of purple veins. "It’s a silence spell," Erebos explained. "Someone wanted her to stay quiet. She saw something in those woods, Kaelen. Something she wasn't supposed to see. So they put her into a slumber that no human medicine can break." Kaelen’s fist clenched so hard his knuckles popped. "How do I wake her?" "There is only one thing," Erebos said. "The Nectar of the Void. It is a drop of pure mana that can wash away any curse. But it isn't found in the woods. It is kept by the Mage Association, in their S-Rank vault. They use it to heal their high lords." "The Mage Association," Kaelen repeated. He looked around the room. He saw the empty bowls and the dirt. He thought of his sister waiting for him for years, only to be struck down by some noble’s secret. "They won't just give it to me," Kaelen said. "I'm an E-Rank scumbag." "Then show them you aren't," Erebos said, a dark hunger in his voice. "Go to their tower. Register. If you want to enter that vault, you need a rank they can't ignore. You need to be a king in their eyes before you can steal their crown." Kaelen stood up. He reached into his cloak and pulled out a heavy bag of gold coins he had taken from the deep dungeons. He tossed it to Martha. "Take care of her," Kaelen said. "Buy her better blankets. Buy her food. Keep the fire going. I’m going to get the cure." Martha looked into the bag and her eyes went wide. "Kaelen, where did you get this? This is enough to buy the whole street." "Don't ask," Kaelen said, pulling his hood back over his face. "Just make sure she is safe." He walked out of the house and back into the main part of the city. The sun was setting, He looked up at the center of the city, where a massive white tower reached toward the clouds. That was the Mage Association. "Are you ready?" Erebos asked. "Once you walk in there, there is no going back. They will see your power. They will try to catch you. They will try to own you." Kaelen looked at his hands. The black veins were pulsing under his skin, humming with a power that wanted to break the world. "Let them try," Kaelen said. He walked through the crowded streets, ignored by the people who thought he was just another beggar. He reached the large gold doors of the Association. Two guards in silver armor stood at the entrance, their spears crossed. "State your business, wanderer," one guard said, looking at Kaelen’s tattered cloak with a scowl on his face. Kaelen didn't flinch. He didn't look down. He reached into his cloak and pulled out his old, battered E-Rank badge. He held it up so they could see the scratched surface. "I'm here for a re-evaluation," Kaelen said. The guards shared a look and burst into laughter. "A scumbag wants to be a mage again? Go home, kid. We don't have time for jokes." Kaelen stepped forward, his body casting a long, dark shadow over the doors. The air around him suddenly turned cold, and the laughter died in the guards' throats. "I wasn't asking," Kaelen said. He pushed past them, the doors swinging open as if a great wind had hit them. He stepped into the hall, his muddy boots marking the floor, and headed straight for the testing stone. It was time to show the world that the ghost had come home.Latest Chapter
The End of an Era
High above the Valley of Slumber, where jagged rocks crowned the tallest mountain peak, Kaelen stood alone beneath the fading stars. The last remnants of darkness stretched across the eastern sky, reluctant to surrender to the coming dawn. A cold breeze swept over the summit, stirring the grass around his boots and tugging gently at his white linen shirt. Below him, the vast valley lay wrapped in the peaceful silence of early morning. There were no armies marching toward its borders. No magical alarms shattered the stillness and no desperate cries rose from underground prisons, and no noble lord stood waiting to remind the poor that their lives belonged to someone wealthier. There was only silence. Kaelen gazed down at the land that had once been nothing more than a stretch of wilderness. Now, green fields spread between clusters of simple wooden houses. Clear rivers wound through the settlement, reflecting the pale light of the stars. Beyond the houses, the academy stood proudly,
The Feast of the Shadows
The first laugh came from a little boy who had spent the entire afternoon trembling beneath the pressure of three Grand Masters.It started as a nervous giggle, barely audible over the crackling of the firewood. Then someone repeated Magmor's furious expression when Kaelen's Void-Pulse had sent him flying into the mud, and the boy burst into uncontrollable laughter.Within moments, the entire Valley of Slumber erupted.“They flew!” Jory shouted, standing on a wooden bench with a roasted chicken leg in his hand. “Three mighty Grand Masters, and Kaelen sent them flying like chickens!”The people around him roared.“Chickens?” Caspian Vance called from halfway down the table. “Those men traveled three miles! I've seen chickens struggle to cross a muddy road.”General Marcus nearly choked on his drink. Even Hokan, who usually maintained a serious expression while managing the settlement's endless responsibilities, covered his mouth to hide a grin.The tension that had gripped the valley h
The Ultimate Face-Slap
The sky above the Valley of Slumber had turned the color of a fresh bruise.Blue lightning crawled through the clouds. Molten-red veins split the mountainsides, and violent winds tore across the settlement, ripping branches from trees and scattering roof tiles across the muddy ground.The three Grand Masters hovered beyond the valley entrance, their combined mana pressing down on everything beneath them.Children lay trembling in the training yard. Some struggled to breathe. Others clung to their teachers, tears streaming down their faces as the earth shook beneath their feet.Elara stood in front of the youngest disciples, one arm stretched protectively across them. Her silver dagger trembled in her hand, but she refused to retreat.“Stay behind me,” she whispered.Mira tried to stand, only for the crushing pressure to force her back onto one knee.“They're too strong,” Tovin gasped.Across the yard, Lyra's silver eyes narrowed. Her Prophetic Sight flickered as possible futures flash
The Attack on the Academy Gates
The burned invitation lay before Lord Vael in a crystal bowl. Only a handful of black ashes remained, yet the sight of them had enraged the chairman of the World Mage Council more than any declaration of war.“He burned it?” Lord Vael asked.The royal messenger knelt before the council table, his head lowered.“Yes, my lord. He read the document, walked to his fireplace, and threw it into the flames. When I protested, he told me the Council should learn to send invitations instead of orders.”A sharp crack echoed through the chamber. Lord Vael’s fingers had crushed the crystal armrest of his chair.“A slum-born rogue,” he snarled, “believes himself powerful enough to humiliate the highest authority on the continent?”“He appeared completely unconcerned, my lord.”That admission made everything worse. Around the table, the other council leaders exchanged furious glances. They could tolerate a rebel who demanded recognition. They could negotiate with a king who threatened war. But Kaele
The Final Tournament Invitation
The World Mage Council had never feared a man who possessed power. They feared a man who could make thousands of people stop fearing them. Inside the Council’s magnificent chamber, twelve high leaders sat around a circular table carved from ancient white crystal. Above them floated a continent-wide map, its glowing territories marked with the crests of kingdoms, empires, and noble houses. One region had become impossible to ignore. The Grey Wastes. More specifically, the Valley of Slumber. “Five thousand people,” an elderly councilman announced, slamming his palm against the table. “Five thousand citizens have abandoned their homes, their occupations, and their kingdoms to follow this man. And those are only the ones we know about.” “They are not following a king,” another leader replied coldly. “Kaelen rejected the Aurelian crown. He possesses no official throne, no recognized noble title, and no legal authority over those people.” “Then explain why they call his organization th
The Assembly of the Weak
The first rumor began in a tavern. A traveling merchant, drunk on cheap wine and exhausted from crossing three provinces, told anyone willing to listen that a young man had destroyed the walls dividing the poor from the wealthy, seized stolen fortunes from corrupt nobles, and refused an imperial crown because he preferred building houses with his own hands.Most people laughed then the merchant described the valley. A place beyond the legal borders of the Aurelian Empire, hidden among the mountains of the Grey Wastes. A place where children labeled E-rank failures were learning to fight, where former slaves and laborers worked their own fields, and where nobody had to kneel before a noble simply to ask for a meal. The laughter faded.By the following morning, three other travelers were telling the same story.Within a week, the rumor had crossed the continent.In the crowded markets of foreign cities, people whispered about Kaelen Drax, the man who had shattered an ancient tyrant's po
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