Chapter 15
The Gravekeeper knelt, his scythe lying broken in the dust.
Kael studied him for a long, silent moment before speaking.
"What do they call you?"
The hooded figure hesitated, then answered, his voice a hollow echo.
"In life, I was Myros, Keeper of Silent Graves. In death… I am simply the Warden."
Nyx tilted her head, smirking faintly. "Bit dramatic, don't you think?"
Myros ignored her, slowly reaching into the folds of his tattered cloak. He produced a scroll sealed with black wax and spread it across the nearest table inside the ruined watchtower.
A map.
Not drawn in ink — but in faint trails of ghostly light.
"This," Myros began, "is the Dead World as I have walked it. It is divided into four dominions."
His bony finger traced the ghost-light outline.
"You stand now in the Ebon Knight Zone — a land where armored wraiths rule the night skies and broken castles sink into the earth. Beyond it lies the Titan's Maw, where giants roam and their footsteps alone can crush armies."
He paused, his voice dropping lower.
"The last… is the Circle of Silence. None return from it. Not even whispers escape its borders."
Kael's gaze was steady. "And the second zone?"
For the first time, Myros's voice carried something like hesitation.
"In Titan's Maw roams a wandering god. I do not know its name — only that its passing turns mountains into dust. If you wish to reach the Circle… you will have to pass through its shadow."
Nyx gave a slow, toothy grin. "Sounds fun."
Kael didn't comment.
"We move at dawn," Myros concluded, rolling the map closed.
That night, the camp lay quiet under the dim, sickly light of the Dead World's moon.
Kael stood alone at the edge of a cliff, looking down at the flickering campfires and the faint, broken laughter of those below.
Footsteps approached. Vaelor stopped beside him, silent for a moment, his hands tightening into fists.
"I should hate you," Vaelor said finally. "You let my people die. But…" He drew in a breath, then dropped to one knee. "Kael, become our king."
Kael's eyes narrowed. "No."
"Without you, we would already be bones in the dirt," Vaelor pressed. "Lead us. Give us something to fight for."
For a long moment, Kael considered the words.
A king? No — that title meant nothing to him.
But an army… an army might be exactly what he would need when he reached the other world, to stand against the so-called Hero.
"Fine," Kael said at last. "I'll take the crown. But understand this — I don't rule to protect you. I rule because it serves my goal."
Vaelor lowered his head. "Even so… thank you."
When he left, Nyx stepped out of the shadows behind Kael, her grin sharp.
"Was that the right choice?" she asked. "Or did you just get bored of being a wandering swordsman?"
Kael didn't turn. "An army will be useful."
Nyx laughed softly. "Useful? You mean terrifying. I like this version of you."
By morning, the banners were raised. The survivors, the knights, even Myros knelt in the cold light as the words were spoken.
"From this day forth," Vaelor declared, "Kael is our king."
The people cheered. Nyx clapped lazily. Astrili just stood with her arms crossed, watching Kael with that unreadable gaze.
And Kael… simply stood there, silent, his eyes fixed on the distant horizon where the Titan's Maw awaited.