They came at dawn men, women, children wrapped in rags and soot. Survivors from lands already lost. They knelt at the gates, not in gratitude, but in fear.
They had seen Kael fight.
They had seen the Devourer too.
Some called Kael savior.
Others called him omen.
One man stepped forward, voice shaking. "If you can command the dead… then command them. End this. Become what you must."
Kael felt the hunger surge at the plea.
The temptation was no longer whispered. It was justified.
He looked at the faces before him and realized something bitter: people feared his restraint more than his power.
That night, Kael walked among the pilgrims, listening to their stories. Entire families erased. Gods unanswered. Hope reduced to ash.
He understood then that staying human would not earn gratitude.
Only survival might.