The fire crackled, casting long shadows over the battered bodies of the mercenaries. Kael stood alone, staring into the flames, his mind swirling with questions heavier than the night itself.
He knew now Solaria wanted him dead.
Not because he was weak but because he wasn't.
The Divine System had rejected him, yes. But in doing so, they had also freed him from its invisible chains.
Kael clenched his fists. His heart burned, not with fear, but with a fierce, reckless hope.
The world beyond Solaria... he knew little of it.
Stories told of vast kingdoms, ancient dungeons buried deep within mountains, relics hidden in cursed forests, and guilds powerful enough to command armies.
He would have to survive there.
No he would have to thrive.
And to do that, he needed strength.
Real strength. The kind that no System, no god, could take away.
[New Quest Unlocked!]
Kael blinked as the screen appeared in front of him:
Quest: Path of the Forsaken
Objective: Discover and bond with 3 Ancient Relics.
Reward: Unlock hidden potential of Forsaken Class.
Failure: Death.
A humorless smile tugged at the corner of Kael's lips.
Straightforward. Brutal.
Exactly the kind of path he would have to walk.
He glanced at the unconscious mercenaries one last time, then melted into the shadows, leaving the dying fire behind.
The hunt had begun but not for him.
For answers. For relics.
For a place in a world that had already thrown him away.
By dawn, Kael reached the outskirts of a settlement if it could even be called that.
A scattering of crumbling stone houses huddled together in the Wastes, half-swallowed by sand and time.
No guards. No banners.
Just a single crooked sign, swinging in the cold wind.
"Ashborne."
Kael pulled his hood lower and entered the village.
Ashborne reeked of desperation. Emaciated children darted between broken doorways. Traders sat by empty stalls, their eyes hollow. Armed men mercenaries, raiders lounged near a ramshackle tavern, eyeing newcomers like vultures watching the dying.
Kael's arrival went largely unnoticed. Another wanderer. Another lost soul.
Good.
He needed information, not attention.
The tavern door creaked as he pushed it open. The interior was dim, thick with the sour stench of ale and sweat. A few heads turned, then dismissed him.
Kael approached the barkeep a gaunt man with more scars than teeth.
"Looking for work," Kael said, voice low.
The barkeep grunted, wiping a grimy mug with an even grimier rag. "Plenty of that. None of it clean. You want coin, you bleed for it out here."
Kael slid a single silver coin across the counter one of the few he'd scavenged from the mercenaries. "Information first."
The barkeep's eyes gleamed at the sight of metal. "Ask."
"I'm looking for relics. Old ones. From before the Divine Era."
A long pause.
Then, slowly, the barkeep leaned in. His voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper.
"You're not the first to ask about the Old World. Most who chase that end up dead... or worse."
"I'll take my chances."
The barkeep shrugged. "North of here. Three days' ride. There's a ruin. They call it the Hollow Sanctum. Cursed place, some say. But old. Real old. Might be what you're after."
Kael nodded.
"One more thing," the barkeep added, voice tightening. "You ain't the only one asking about relics lately. Some important types been sniffing around. Guild types."
Kael stiffened.
"Which guild?"
"Didn't get a name. But they rode under a black sun banner. Paid good coin for anyone bringing them news about 'strange wanderers.' Like you."
Kael cursed inwardly.
The Guild of the Black Sun.
One of Solaria's elite ruthless, powerful, and fanatically loyal to the Divine System. If they were already hunting him, he was running out of time.
He thanked the barkeep with a silent nod and left.
Outside, the cold light of morning had risen, casting Ashborne into an even harsher clarity.
He needed a plan.
First: supplies.
Second: a way to travel fast.
Third: strength.
Without all three, he wouldn't survive another week.
The marketplace if it could be called that offered little. A few half-rotted food supplies, broken weapons, and ragged cloaks. Kael bartered carefully, spending what little silver he had left on dried meat, water skins, and a sturdy cloak that hid the gauntlet on his arm.
For travel, he found a grizzled old man willing to part with a scrawny, mean-eyed horse for two silver coins and a promise not to bring it back.
Kael named the horse "Ash" partly for the village, partly because the beast looked like it had crawled straight from a fire.
By midday, he was riding north, following the barkeep's directions.
The Wastes stretched endlessly around him barren plains, shattered ruins, and distant mountains clawing at the sky.
But Kael wasn't alone.
He felt it. Eyes watching him from the rocks. Movements too coordinated to be animals.
He urged Ash to a faster trot.
The first arrow came without warning a black shaft whistling through the air.
Kael ducked instinctively. The arrow grazed his shoulder, burning a line of fire across his skin.
Bandits.
Or worse Black Sun scouts.
Three figures emerged from the rocks ahead, clad in mismatched armor. Their leader a tall man with a cruel grin raised a hand.
"Easy now, boy," he called. "No need to fight. Just hand over your gear... and come with us. Some fine folks paid real good for you."
Kael's blood boiled.
He was sick of running.
He tightened his grip on the reins then slipped off the saddle, landing lightly on the ground.
The leader chuckled. "Smart lad. Surrender nice and easy, and maybe we won't gut you."
Kael raised his gauntleted hand.
Silver glyphs flared.
The leader's grin faltered.
Kael moved.
Faster than any normal human should.
He was on them before they could react, Soulbrand blazing across his skin. His first punch caved in the chest plate of the nearest scout, sending the man sprawling.
The second scout drew a blade too slow. Kael weaved aside and slammed his gauntlet into the man's temple.
The leader cursed, drawing a curved saber. "You little—"
Kael caught the blade with his gauntlet, sparks flying as steel met ancient metal. With a roar, he shoved forward, breaking the leader's balance, then drove his knee into the man's gut.
The leader fell, choking.
Kael stood over him, breathing hard.
[You have defeated a Black Sun Scout. XP gained: 150.]
[Level Up! Level 2 achieved.]
A surge of strength flowed through him.
The System chimed again:
Skill Upgrade Available: Soulbrand II unlocked.
[Soulbrand II]: Further enhances strength and defense. Minor health regeneration while active.
Kael smiled grimly.
They wanted him weak.
They wanted him obedient.
But every battle only made him stronger.
He stripped supplies from the fallen coins, maps, a better sword and mounted Ash once more.
The Hollow Sanctum awaited.
And if the Black Sun, the Divine System, or even the gods themselves tried to stop him —
They would learn, too late, the truth:
The Forsaken do not kneel.
They rise.
And they conquer.