The storm had passed, leaving the forest drenched in silver fog.
Elric moved through the tunnels like a shadow, his staff glowing faintly as he muttered incantations that sealed the entryways behind them.
Kale followed, silent but alert. Something in the air felt wrong — heavier than usual, like the world itself was holding its breath.
Finally, Elric stopped at a fork in the passage. "They've found us."
Kale stiffened. "Who?"
Elric's tone hardened. "Witch Scouts. Three of them. Low-rank, but still dangerous. They're tracking your mana signature from the last surge."
Kale's chest tightened. "Then I'll fight."
Elric turned sharply. "No. You'll stay hidden."
"I can help—"
"You'll help by staying alive!" Elric hissed. "You don't even know what that thing inside you will do if you release it again."
Kale bit his tongue, frustration burning in his throat.
But before he could argue, a faint hum echoed down the tunnel — a spell ripple, sharp and cold.
Elric swore. "Too late. They're here."
A flicker of light bloomed ahead — green, like sickly fire. The first witch scout appeared from the mist, a woman in a silver cloak, her eyes glowing faint gold. Two others flanked her, runic blades drawn.
"Well, well," the leader said, her voice smooth and venomous. "After fifteen years, the cursed child finally leaves his hole."
Kale's blood ran cold. They know who I am.
Elric stepped forward, staff raised. "You're trespassing. Leave now, and I'll let you keep your souls."
The woman laughed softly. "Still playing protector, Elric? You should have retired centuries ago."
The air around her shimmered — a magical circle forming beneath her feet.
Elric's eyes narrowed. "Kale, back!"
But the moment Kale moved, another witch appeared behind him, faster than he could react. A spell lashed out — a whip of pure light that struck his shoulder, burning through cloth and skin.
He cried out, falling to one knee.
"Let me out."
The whisper came instantly — clear, cold, eager.
"You can't fight them. But we can."
Kale's hand trembled. He glanced up — the witches were closing in, runes circling their palms, their eyes full of the same hatred that killed his parents.
Elric fought fiercely, his magic bursting like firecrackers in the darkness — but he was outnumbered, and older.
"Say my name," the voice urged, pulsing in his chest. "You remember it. Even if you can't speak it… you feel it."
Kale's breath hitched. He could feel it — that same burning word scratching against his mind, begging to be spoken.
He clutched his chest. "No… if I say it, I'll lose myself."
"You'll lose everything if you don't."
A blade of light slashed across his arm. He screamed — and something inside him snapped.
The mana burst forth.
Blue fire erupted around him, flaring brighter than daylight. The witches stumbled back, shielding their faces. The tunnel shook violently, stones cracking and runes shattering.
Kale's eyes blazed with an unnatural light — deep violet now, not blue. His voice came out layered, two tones speaking as one.
"You shouldn't have come here."
The witches froze. Even Elric stopped mid-spell.
The air grew heavy, charged with power that felt wrong — ancient, divine, and furious.
Kale raised his hand, and the very walls of the tunnel bent inward. The witches screamed as invisible pressure crushed them to their knees.
The leader tried to chant a binding spell, but the words broke in her mouth. Blood spilled from her lips.
"Mercy…" she choked.
Kale tilted his head. His expression wasn't his anymore.
"You didn't show them mercy," the voice said through him. "Now neither will I."
Elric shouted, "Kale! Stop! This isn't you!"
But the entity only smiled through Kale's lips. "No. This is what he was meant to be."
The air imploded. A blinding flash consumed the tunnel.
When the light faded, only dust remained.
The witches were gone — their magic erased completely.
Kale collapsed, unconscious. His body trembled, veins glowing faintly as mana crackled across his skin.
Elric knelt beside him, hands shaking. "Foolish boy," he whispered. "You're becoming exactly what they fear."
He placed a hand on Kale's forehead, whispering a containment spell. The glow dimmed — but didn't vanish.
Beneath the surface, something laughed.
"One step closer, Kale."
"Soon, you won't have to fight me. You'll become me."
Hours later, far above the ground, the Witch Council gathered again.
A new report floated across the crystal table — three scouts dead, no remains.
The crimson-robed witch slammed her palm down. "He's awakened. The Cursed Mana walks again."
Another voice, calm but cold, replied:
"Then send the Hunters."