The morning came late in Eldrath.Even the sun seemed afraid to rise above the ashes.
A thin fog covered the ruins as Kael moved silently through the remains of a once-grand city. Broken towers reached for the sky like skeletal hands, and the wind carried whispers of a thousand forgotten prayers.
He walked alone.The corpses he had raised in the pit had long dissolved into ash, their purpose fulfilled. What remained now was silence—and the Scripture of Returning Ashes, pulsing faintly against his chest.
Every heartbeat hummed with death essence.Every breath drew faint traces of soul energy from the air.
Kael had no direction, only instinct. The tome guided him, faint runes appearing whenever he neared something it found... useful.
This time, the runes glowed a deep crimson.A warning.
He slowed his steps and glanced toward the horizon. There, faint through the fog, he saw the glimmer of torchlight. Six flames. Then ten.Voices. Armor.
He crouched low behind a fallen statue, the air heavy with the stench of sanctified oil. His gaze sharpened.
"...No remains left behind. Burn everything that reeks of decay," a deep voice ordered."Yes, Inquisitor!" several replied in unison.
Kael's jaw tightened.
The Hunters of Light—the Holy Alliance's cleansing division.Zealots trained to hunt down necromancers, corpse refiners, and anyone suspected of death-related arts.He remembered them well.They were the ones who had thrown him into the pit.
He could see their insignia clearly even through the fog—golden swords crossed over a radiant halo.
Kael's pulse slowed. His mind quieted.His left hand brushed against the cold cover of the tome.
"You again," he whispered, almost to himself. "Let's see what you'll teach me this time."
The tome responded instantly. Violet runes flared across its surface, and the faint echo of a voice filled his mind.
"Death does not strike first. Death waits for arrogance."
Kael smiled faintly. "Then let's wait."
The Hunters moved through the ruins, their torches cutting through the mist.The lead Inquisitor—a tall man in silver armor with prayer marks carved into his skin—paused suddenly. He knelt, touching a faint footprint in the ash.
"He's close. The sinner who defies the cycle."
He drew his blade. The runes along its edge shimmered with holy light.
"Form the circle. Burn the scent of the unclean."
The others obeyed, scattering holy incense that filled the air with a searing brightness. Kael felt it immediately—the pressure, the stinging burn against his very soul.
He gritted his teeth. The holy aura gnawed at his essence like acid.
"So... you still fear what you can't understand," he muttered.
The tome pulsed again.A single page turned on its own.Runes flared.
[Command of Ash – Breath of Silence]
Kael whispered the words, voice cold and precise.The air around him warped. The fog thickened, swallowing sound and light alike. The holy flames sputtered and dimmed.
"What—what's happening!?" one of the Hunters shouted.
Then they saw him.A dark silhouette emerging through the mist, cloak rippling like smoke, eyes gleaming faint silver.
Kael raised his hand. The corpses buried beneath the ground stirred in answer. Pale hands broke through the soil, clutching at the feet of the terrified Hunters.
"Blasphemy!" the Inquisitor roared. "By the Light, purge him!"
Kael's eyes flickered with violet light. "By the dead, remember me."
The ground cracked open. Dozens of spectral forms rose from the mist—the souls of those who had died here years ago. They moved without sound, passing through armor and flesh alike. Screams followed, sharp and short, before fading into the rain.
One by one, the torches fell.The holy circle shattered.
Only the Inquisitor remained, his blade trembling as he faced Kael.
"What... are you?" he whispered.
Kael stepped closer. The violet glow from the tome illuminated his face—calm, composed, almost human.
"The one you buried," Kael said softly, "and the one you'll never bury again."
The Inquisitor lunged with a desperate cry.Kael didn't move. The man froze mid-step, his body turning pale as frost crept along his skin. His breath left him in a cloud of black mist before his body crumbled into ash.
The mist sank into Kael's palm, absorbed without a trace.
He exhaled slowly, feeling the new strength coil within him. Another faint hum echoed through his mind.
[Soul Essence Absorbed – Threshold of Bone Approaching.]
The Cycle of Ash was nearing its peak. Soon, he would step into the next stage—the Cycle of Bone.
But for now, the fog cleared.The field was quiet again, littered with the remains of the once-pure.
Kael glanced at the corpses. Some still twitched faintly, their spirits hovering in confusion.
"Rest," he said quietly. "Your hatred has served its purpose."
The souls dissolved into light, drawn into his Death Sea. The wind stilled.
Kael closed the tome and looked toward the east, where the first light of dawn broke through the clouds.
He could feel the pull of the living world—the empires, the temples, the whispers of fear spreading already.
"They'll come for me," he murmured."Let them. Death walks faster than faith."
He turned and vanished into the fog, leaving behind nothing but footprints and whispers.
Far away, in the Holy Citadel of Lumina, bells began to toll.The clergy fell to their knees, trembling, as the air grew cold and the sacred fire dimmed for the first time in decades.
The Ashborn has risen.
End of Chapter 3 – The Hunters of Light