Kael reached the northern ridge by midday. From there, he could still see smoke trailing over Drenmoor, barely more than a smudge against the pale sky. He didn't look back often. But today, he kept checking.
Not out of regret.
Out of suspicion.
The system's last prompt still lingered in his mind:
Observer Presence: UnknownSpiritual Signature Match Detected — Entity Class: [Severed]
It hadn't returned. No follow-up. No confirmation. But it had been there.
And Kael didn't believe in ghosts.
He traveled fast for another day, using terrain to stay hidden—ridges, streams, and animal paths. He passed no towns. No travelers. Only trees and the quiet sense of being somewhere people had stopped caring about.
It was the kind of place Kael preferred.
Late the next night, he spotted firelight ahead.
Not torches. Campfires.
Multiple.
He crouched in the dark, peering through brush. The camp sprawled over a wide hill clearing—maybe two dozen people. Tents. Scavenged armor. A few crude Brands strapped to packs.
But what caught his attention wasn't the gear. It was the silence.
No one was speaking.
Even the children sat quiet.
Kael's instincts didn't trust silence without fear.
He circled wide, moving downhill and into the fringe where firelight gave way to long shadows.
That's when he felt it.
A pulse—not from the blade. From the ground. Faint, but rhythmic. Like someone had etched a heartbeat into the soil.
He moved closer.
A guard spotted him.
Not trained. Just a kid. Broad-shouldered. Cheap axe. Nervous eyes.
Kael didn't draw.
The boy froze. Then raised the axe halfway. "Who—who are you?"
Kael didn't answer.
A voice called from behind them.
"Put it down, Riss. He's not one of theirs."
Kael turned.
A woman stepped from the fire's edge. Late thirties. Travel-worn cloak. Sword on her hip, but not a Brand.
Her eyes, though—sharp.
"I've seen that stance before," she said. "You're not Church. And you're not a hunter."
Kael stayed silent.
She didn't press. Just stepped forward and offered her hand.
"Calla."
He didn't take it.
"You're not welcome here," she added. "But you're not banned, either. Not unless you draw steel."
Kael finally spoke. "Who are you hiding from?"
Calla didn't blink. "The same people you are."
The camp was a Branded outcast commune—what the Church called "markless," though most of them bore faded or malformed Soulbrands.
Some had been denied integration during ceremony. Others had rejected their Brands or tried to forge their own paths. Some had been too weak. Others too dangerous.
None of them had a place left in the world.
Kael sat by the fire, hood low. He didn't speak. But he listened.
They weren't warriors.
They weren't fanatics.
They were done.
People tired of running. Tired of dying. Children who couldn't afford a Brand. Elders who'd burned theirs out resisting divine command.
Calla sat across from him. She didn't ask his name. Just watched him like someone waiting to see if the fire would move.
"You carry one," she said. "But it's not like theirs."
Kael didn't answer.
"You're not hunted like us," she added. "You're worse. You're interesting."
Kael met her eyes. "You plan to sell me?"
She snorted. "To who? We stopped believing in salvation."
Then she leaned forward slightly.
"But we believe in omens."
Kael didn't respond.
"Three days ago," she said, "a woman came through here. Wore a spear. Spoke careful. Asked questions."
Kael's fingers twitched.
"Didn't give a name," Calla continued. "But she was looking for a man with no mark who carried a blade that eats light."
Lys.
Kael exhaled through his nose.
"She didn't stay," Calla said. "Didn't threaten. But the moment she left, the forest changed. We started seeing things."
"What kind of things?"
"Quiet ones," she said. "Too tall. Wrong faces. Standing still in the trees. Watching."
Kael didn't like that.
Calla noticed. "She said one thing before she left."
Kael waited.
"She said: Tell him if he finds this place, don't rest too long. Something older is catching up."
Kael stood.
He was already moving by the time the next message from the Ledger arrived.
Soulweight: 36Entity Signature Detected — Matching Anomaly Class: Pale-Bound[Warning]: External cognitive presence may attempt anchor breach.Phantom Step temporarily suppressed due to atmospheric interference.
He didn't wait to see what was causing it.
He didn't warn the camp.
He just vanished into the woods, fast and silent, blade half-drawn, heart steady.
Whatever was hunting him wasn't just tracking his kills.
It was tracking his Brand.
And it was getting closer.