The forest had changed.
What once felt alive now seemed to hold its breath. The trees grew thicker, their branches curling like black claws that tore at the morning fog. A strange hush followed Kael and Elara — no birdsong, no wind. Only the sound of their footsteps crunching over dead leaves.
Kael's jaw tightened. He knew this silence. It wasn't peace. It was preparation.
Elara noticed it too. "Something's wrong," she whispered.
Kael stopped, scanning the treeline. "Don't move."
The words came low, controlled, but Elara heard the edge beneath them. His hand rested on his dagger, lightning faintly flickering under the skin of his wrist.
Then — a sound.
Not from ahead.From above.
He looked up just as a black shape dropped from the canopy — a figure clad in segmented armor that shimmered like oil. Raven feathers lined the pauldrons, each one etched with crimson runes. Two more figures landed behind them, their presence heavy, suffocating.
Kael's heart went cold.Raven Division.
The Syndicate's execution arm — elite assassins who specialized in hunting their own kind.
He had crossed paths with them once before, on a mission that ended with a dozen corpses and an oath never to speak of it again.
And now they were here.
The lead Raven spoke, voice distorted by a metal half-mask."Kael of the Guild. You've interfered with Syndicate affairs twice. Surrender the girl."
Kael didn't answer. His eyes were fixed on the insignia carved into the assassin's breastplate — the black sun over crossed blades. His grip on his dagger tightened until sparks crackled from his palm.
Elara glanced between them, confused. "Kael… who are they?"
He didn't look at her. "Stay back."
That was the only warning he gave.
Lightning roared to life around him — bright, furious, alive. The ground trembled beneath his boots.
The Ravens moved as one, blades flashing like wings slicing through mist.
Kael vanished in a burst of light, reappearing behind the nearest Raven and driving his blade upward. The assassin blocked it effortlessly, countering with a kick that sent Kael sliding back. The second Raven hurled twin daggers laced with poison; Kael twisted aside, letting one graze his arm and bury itself in a tree, sizzling.
The third Raven leapt into the air, spinning, his cloak spreading like wings before unleashing a barrage of black fire sigils that exploded against the ground. The forest lit up in chaotic flashes.
Elara ducked behind a tree, heart pounding. The sheer violence of their movements made her freeze — these weren't common mercenaries. They fought like they'd studied Kael's rhythm.
She wanted to help.But this was different. This was personal.
Kael's voice thundered through the chaos. "You should've stayed buried!"
Lightning erupted from his body, shattering the sigils midair and blowing one Raven into a burning oak. Kael dashed forward, his dagger now a streak of blue light. Sparks exploded as steel met steel.
The lead Raven parried him once — twice — then locked blades, voice calm even under strain.
"You still fight like him," the assassin said.
"Who?" Kael demanded.
"Your father."
The words hit like a physical blow.Kael faltered — just for a second.That second cost him.
The Raven's knee slammed into his ribs, and a second blade cut a line across his chest. Kael staggered back, lightning flaring wildly around him as blood seeped through his shirt.
Elara's scream cut through the smoke. "Kael!"
He didn't respond. He just straightened, eyes now burning with white-blue fury.
The storm inside him broke loose.
Bolts of lightning cascaded through the trees, splitting trunks and turning the air to glass. The blast threw two Ravens aside like leaves in a tempest. The leader barely held ground, raising his crossed blades to absorb the force — the metal turned molten red.
Kael stepped forward, each footfall cracking the ground.Lightning danced along his skin, running like veins of fire."You talk too much."
He vanished again — faster than the eye could follow.A flash. A scream.The leader's mask shattered as Kael's blade pierced through his chest.
The storm ended as suddenly as it began. Only drifting smoke remained.
Kael stood breathing hard, his cloak torn, the air still humming with static. Three bodies lay scattered — one impaled against a tree by his own blade, another crumpled near a scorched patch of earth, the third's armor cracked and smoking.
Elara stepped out from behind the rocks, eyes wide with horror and awe."Kael… what was that?"
He didn't meet her gaze. His voice was flat, distant. "Raven Division."
"You've fought them before."
"Yes."
"Why do they know you?"
Silence.
Kael cleaned his blade, flicking off the blood. The forest around them still sizzled from residual lightning. "They remember the storm," he said finally. "And I remember their scent."
Elara frowned. "You're not making sense."
He turned to her, eyes shadowed. "You don't want me to."
Something in his tone made her step back — not from fear, but from realization. She'd seen power before, but not this kind of precision, not this ruthless control. It wasn't just skill. It was training.
Trained to kill.To survive.To disappear.
And he wasn't supposed to be able to do that.
As the last sparks faded, Kael's thoughts flickered — fragments of memory, voices half-remembered.
A name whispered in the dark: Stormblood.A guildmaster's voice saying, You're not like the others, Kael. You carry lightning in your veins.
He'd thought it metaphor. A joke. A cruel nickname for his unnatural speed and aura.
But that Raven's words — You fight like him… your father — cracked something open.
He had no family. The Guild leader had found him as a boy, half-dead in a ruined monastery. He never questioned why lightning came easier to him than breathing, or why he healed faster than most. The Guild trained him, named him, shaped him.
But now the Syndicate whispered of the Stormblood line — and the Ravens seemed to know more than he ever would.
Kael clenched his jaw, forcing the thoughts away. Answers could wait. Survival could not.
"Elara," he said quietly, "we're moving."
She didn't argue this time. Just followed — though her eyes never left him, full of questions she wasn't ready to ask.
They reached the foothills by dusk, a narrow ridge overlooking the valley below. The fog had lifted, revealing distant stone towers and faint lights flickering beneath the horizon.
But as they approached the ridge's edge, the world shimmered.The ground rippled like water — and suddenly, they weren't in the forest anymore.
They stood in the middle of a courtyard filled with mirrors.Dozens of reflections stared back — distorted, whispering, moving when they didn't.
Elara's hand went to her staff. "An illusion field."
Kael's eyes narrowed. "Not Syndicate. Academy technique."
A calm voice echoed from the mirrors."About time you caught up."
Two figures stepped forward — instructors, cloaked in silver mantles bearing the Guild's sigil. Their eyes glowed faintly blue, illusions bending around them.
Kael tensed. "Instructors."
The elder smiled thinly. "You're late. Most pairs haven't even reached the second site."
Elara frowned. "So you're the ones we're supposed to tag?"
"Indeed." The other raised an eyebrow. "If you can."
Kael didn't waste another word. His blade flashed, cutting through three illusions at once. The air split with light as the mirror courtyard fractured — revealing the two real instructors crouched behind false copies. Elara followed with a burst of energy from her staff, striking the ground and scattering the remaining phantoms.
When the dust settled, Kael pressed the hilt of his dagger against the elder instructor's chest — the "tag" rune glowing faintly.
"Tagged," he said coolly.
The instructor chuckled, brushing off his mantle. "Efficient. Brutal, but efficient."
The other instructor, still half-kneeling, gave a sharp nod. "You've passed this phase. Two targets down."
Kael lowered his weapon. "That makes four total. The next clue?"
The elder's eyes gleamed. "Follow the storm to the ruins. You'll find what you're looking for there — or lose yourselves trying."
And with that, the illusion shimmered again, the instructors fading into mist. The world reformed — quiet forest, cold wind, and stars breaking through twilight.
Elara exhaled shakily. "They're gone."
Kael turned away. "Not for long."
She studied him — the blood drying on his arm, the calm that shouldn't have been possible after what they'd faced."You lied to them," she said softly.
"They didn't need to know about the Syndicate," he replied.
"Or about you?"
He paused, the last of the sunset burning along his jawline. For a heartbeat, something flickered in his eyes — not coldness, but a shadow of regret.
"Some truths," he said quietly, "can't be unlearned."
Elara's throat tightened. "Who are you, Kael?"
He looked toward the horizon where thunder was rolling again — far, distant, almost like a whisper.
"Someone you shouldn't trust…" he murmured, stepping past her, "…but will have to."
He walked into the darkness, leaving her alone amid the rustling leaves and fading echoes.
Elara stood there, torn between fear and something she refused to name. The man beside her was a storm in disguise — and the more she tried to understand him, the deeper the mystery grew.
Above, lightning streaked across the night — not far, not random.It was calling him forward.And tomorrow, the hunt would continue.