When Kael fired at Renas, that should've been the end of it.
But Renas's signature ability was still active.
Time froze — seven seconds this time.
The bullet hung midair right before his eyes. It was strange… and dangerous.
Kael had somehow healed completely. What kind of ability let him do that — to heal, trip Renas, and track him? None of it made sense. There had to be more.
But this wasn't the time to think.
Renas grabbed the hovering bullet, flipped it backward, then stepped behind Kael, dagger in hand. The moment time resumed, he'd slice Kael's throat — and maybe, if luck held, the reversed bullet would finish the job.
When color returned, though, neither happened.
Flipping the bullet only made it fly backward along the same path, still propelled by the same force. Physics didn't care about tricks. Renas, apparently, had skipped too many science classes — or maybe he was just rusty.
As for the dagger—
The blade cut straight through Kael's neck. Blood burst out—then didn't. Not a drop left his body. The wound sealed itself as quickly as it opened, as if the moment the knife split flesh, time itself rewound the damage.
Kael's voice was calm, almost bored.
"Ahh, you know how exhausting it is to control regeneration that precisely? Anyway, doesn't matter. I've got what I wanted. I'm close enough now."
He reached a hand toward Renas.
Six seconds. That's all Renas needed to survive.
He smacked Kael's hand away with his rifle, shoved him forward, and sent him sprawling.
Tried to run — tripped again. Again? This wasn't bad luck. That bastard could heal and make people stumble?
Both hit the ground, but Kael rose first.
He never rushed. Never even broke into a run. Just that slow, deliberate walk.
As his hand reached toward Renas's leg, the bell tolled once more—
Renas was gone.
Kael exhaled through his nose, whispering to himself.
"Each teleport shortens your duration… and you can't choose when it triggers. I see. A fine ability indeed."
Renas, crouched behind a tree, cursed under his breath.
Why hadn't anyone come yet? Probably because only half a minute had passed since the flare went up. It felt like forever to him, but time outside his frozen world had barely moved.
Still — no one was coming. Meaning, the only one who could save him… was himself.
At least his leg wasn't broken. He kept tripping, sure, but he could still stand and run. That was something.
He bolted.
Through the thickets, through the dark. He had no idea which direction he was going — toward the village or deeper into the woods. Didn't matter. Just forward.
Was Kael following? Was he toying with him? Renas couldn't tell. Every time he fell, he forced himself up again.
By the time his lungs burned and his steps slowed, he didn't know if he'd escaped or not.
But he had found something.
In the depths of the forest, near the border wall between two settlements — a temple.
Stone-like, wrapped in vines.
Above the entrance, a line of text he couldn't read — no language he knew.
He wouldn't have gone near it on any other night. Kael was too strong; the idea of seeing him again made Renas's stomach twist.
Kael's intent didn't seem to be killing him, which was probably why Renas had survived that fight at all. If Kael had really wanted him dead, he'd be dead. That pistol alone could've ended it.
Whatever the reason, Kael wanted him alive. And if Kael was still somewhere in these woods, the temple was his only refuge.
So Renas stepped inside.
The deeper he went, the more he realized — the building wasn't stone at all, but marble. The "stone" look came from years of grime. Inside, it was spotless.
A short corridor led him to a wide chamber — a single altar at its center.
Above it, in the roof, a perfect square opening let in a column of moonlight, shining down directly onto the altar.
Then — his body moved on its own.
Mind clear, limbs unresponsive. His feet carried him forward, no matter how he tried to stop them.
To the altar.
He reached out, palm landing on its surface.
From the surrounding walls, dozens of colored lights flared to life.
One of them — a circular beam of pale blue — drifted from the air and touched the altar. Then it seeped into Renas's hand.
When it exited, the light was green.
That color… it felt familiar somehow.
Then pain hit.
Control returned to his body, but his right hand burned like it was being devoured.
He staggered, dropped to his knees.
It was like thousands of needles — as thin as light — piercing not just flesh, but something deeper, something beneath thought. Maybe it wasn't even real pain. Maybe he was just overwhelmed.
Then, a voice.
The same divine voice he'd heard when he first arrived in World 774. If it had a name, it would be Voice 774.
It spoke softly.
"Didn't expect two hidden quests to be completed by the same village. Well done."
Renas gritted his teeth, groaning through the pain.
"If this is a reward, why does it hurt so much? Damn it…"
Maybe his voice sounded pitiful, because Voice 774 actually chuckled — lightly, almost kindly.
"Ahahah… where to begin? This place you're in is called the Temple of Everyone. Or, more accurately, the Temple of Share. Anyone who enters is forced to perform a single act — both a gift and a curse."
The voice brightened, growing almost cheerful.
"Each person who enters leaves behind a copy of their signature ability here, and in return, inherits the signature ability of another random person who did the same. Congratulations — you've just gained a new ability."
Renas lay on the ground, trembling, half-considering cutting off his hand just to stop the pain. Still, he listened. What the voice said wasn't comforting. If he was lucky, maybe he'd gained something useful. If not… all this agony would be for nothing.
"Fine," he hissed. "Are there any side effects? Or—aughh—how long is this pain gonna last?!"
The voice sighed.
"Pain? That's normal. You're inheriting a copied ability — technically illegal by divine law. So don't use it in any sacred zones. And relax — this temple doesn't appear to everyone. Only those deemed strong enough can find it. So, trust me, what you got is worth it. This place has been here for centuries."
Renas forced another question out between breaths.
"Then how do I… how do I know what the ability is?"
His voice was weak, drained.
Voice 774 didn't sound concerned. Not even slightly.
"Your ability? Huh, come to think of it, you never asked me to explain yours before. If you want, I can tell you — just think it. You don't even have to speak."
A pause. Then Renas shouted, half in pain, half in desperation:
"Of course I want to know! Which ability did I inherit?!"