The Dorn manor was silent after Kael Dorn's death. His corpse had already been fed to the fire, and only the echo of Korrak's laughter remained in the family's minds.
They thought they were predators. Now they were prey, chained to a monster that walked like a man.
Korrak sat in the center of their bloodstained hall, leaning back into Kael's seat as though it were his throne. His false human form was perfectly composed, but his presence pressed down like the weight of a collapsing mountain. The family's bodies remained glued to the floor, foreheads pressed into stone, shivering.
"Slaves," Korrak said finally, his voice calm, almost polite. "Do you understand why I keep you alive?"
Selara raised her head slightly, trembling. "…because we swore loyalty, Master."
Korrak chuckled, the sound like steel scraping against bone. "Wrong. I keep you alive because you are useful. If you cannot become stronger than the insects I wish to recruit, then why would I keep you? What use is a slave weaker than his master's prey?"
The twins Lyra and Darius clenched their fists, but did not speak. The youngest, Taren, shook silently, unable to even lift his head.
Korrak's gaze swept the shabby manor. Cracked walls. Stained mats. A pitiful collection of trinkets from the Blood Fang Sect. His lip curled. "This… hovel is unfit. Not for me. Not even for you. In the abyss, even the dogs of my palace live better than this."
The children's hearts screamed delusional psychopath, but their mouths dared not move.
With a flick of his claw-shaped nail, a seam split open in the air beside him — a sub-space pocket. From the darkness, he pulled a bulging leather bag and tossed it at Selara. It clattered at her knees, spilling slightly.
Gold coins. Dozens, hundreds, glittering like captured suns.
Selara froze, then slowly opened it fully. Enough wealth to buy not just property, but entire streets.
"Go," Korrak ordered. "Buy a proper hall. Something worthy of becoming a sect. And return quickly."
Selara bowed low. "Yes, Master. It will be done." She left without another word, clutching the bag to her chest as if it contained her heart.
The Lesson of Pain
When the door closed, Korrak stood. His nails scraped the air again, this time ripping open a vast sub-space barrier that filled the manor. The air shimmered like glass. "Time moves differently here. Five hours… will become eternity."
He turned his ember-like gaze to the children. "Get up. Your training begins now."
They staggered to their feet, confused.
Then Korrak snapped his fingers.
Out of thin air, a man appeared, cloaked in a plain human form. His aura was coiled tightly, but the children felt the faint pressure of something inhuman. His eyes were black pits, his smile cruel.
"This," Korrak said smoothly, "is your instructor. One of my ten nobles. His name is Kaelith the Skinner. Today's lesson…" He smiled thinly. "…is pain."
Kaelith bowed mockingly. "Shall we begin, little lambs?"
And then he attacked.
Eons in Five Hours
The children barely saw the first strike. Lyra's arm broke instantly as she tried to block. Darius was slammed into the wall, coughing blood. Taren screamed as Kaelith's boot crushed his ribs.
Time stretched. The blows came endlessly, faster and harder. Cuts, bruises, bones snapping and mending as abyssal energy forced their bodies to heal, only to break again.
Days passed. Weeks. Years. In the pocket of warped time, their childhoods crumbled into screams.
After what felt like a thousand years, Lyra finally dodged a strike. After another two thousand, Darius managed to block. After five thousand, the twins landed a counter.
Taren was weaker, always broken first. Yet Kaelith forced him up again and again, whispering, "If you die here, boy, I'll feast on your soul."
By the time 5 hours and 26 minutes had passed outside, the children had endured 12.9 eons of torment. Their eyes were hollow, their muscles trembling, but they could finally stand and strike back.
Korrak watched in silence from his throne of shadow.
The End of the Lesson
At last, as Lyra lunged forward, her blade scraping Kaelith's shoulder, Korrak raised a hand.
"Enough."
Kaelith froze mid-strike. He blurred and reappeared at Korrak's side, bowing deeply. The sub-space shattered like glass, collapsing. The manor returned to its silent, bloody state.
The children dropped to the floor, panting, half-conscious.
Just then, the door creaked open. Selara stepped inside, clutching documents. "Master… the deed is complete. The property is ours."
Korrak turned his burning gaze on her. "Good. Your children have worked hard." His smile widened. "Now… it is your turn. And you will work twice as hard."
He snapped his fingers.
Kaelith appeared again, this time with another figure. A second noble, cloaked and silent, his eyes gleaming like knives.
Selara's blood ran cold.
"Today's lesson for you," Korrak said softly, "is extra pain."
The barrier sealed again. Screams tore the night, but the children heard nothing. The invisible wall swallowed every sound.
In the Children's Room
The three siblings huddled together in their shared room, bruised and broken, whispering.
Lyra clutched her brother's hand. "He's insane. He's… not human."
Darius, trembling, looked at his fists. For the first time, he felt real power burning in his veins. The endless training had awakened something primal. "But… do you feel it? The strength. We're stronger. So much stronger."
Taren, still clutching his ribs, whispered with hollow eyes, "I don't even remember Father's face anymore…"
The room fell silent.
And in the silence, Korrak's laughter echoed faintly in their bones, even though he wasn't there.