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Chapter 8 - The Veil’s Offer

You can only kill in the shadows for so long before the darkness starts whispering back.

I felt it when I closed my eyes.

Heard it in the space between my thoughts.

A voice—not loud or commanding, but low. Patient. Always there.

At first, I thought I was losing it. Too much time in the Hollow Grid, too much blood, too much power too quickly. But then came the dreams.

They didn't feel like dreams.

---

I stood in a chamber with no walls—just infinite shadow, rippling like water. A throne of obsidian hovered at the center, and behind it… nothing. Not blackness. Not emptiness.

Oblivion.

> "You are chosen, Elias Black."

The voice echoed through the air and through me.

> "You walk where none dared. You've unlocked the Fifth Thread."

"I didn't ask to."

> "That's why you were worthy."

A pause.

> "It's time."

"Time for what?"

> "To choose your next path."

A screen appeared—sleek, dark silver instead of blue. The usual system notifications were gone.

In their place:

---

[Shadowroot Progression Unlocked]

Choose your Branch:

[Shadecaller] – Master of deception and manipulation. Blend with shadow. Control illusions.

[Eclipseblade] – Merge blade and shadow. Speed, silence, and death.

[Veilborn] – Become one with the veil. Gain passive shadow regeneration and traverse between the real and the hidden.

WARNING: This choice is permanent.

---

I hesitated.

Each option pulsed with potential.

Shadecaller tempted me with trickery.

Eclipseblade called to the fighter in me.

But Veilborn…

That was something else.

Not just an assassin.

A presence.

A force that existed beyond reach.

A phantom behind every breath.

I didn't want to kill like a weapon.

I wanted to move like a system.

I reached out and selected:

> [Veilborn]

The shadows exploded around me.

---

I woke up gasping.

My mana surged, doubled.

My body tingled.

I opened my status screen.

---

[Name: Elias Black]

[Class: Veilborn | Former: Commoner(?)]

[Level: 8]

[HP: 100 | MP: 430]

[Affinities: Shadowroot 11%]

New Passive Skill: Shadow Recovery

Regenerates 2% MP per second while in dim light or darkness.

New Active Skill: Veilwalk (Lv. 1)

Phase between spaces. Teleport up to 10 meters through line-of-sight shadow. Cooldown: 20s. Cost: 50 MP.

---

I didn't even know what half of that meant yet.

But I felt it.

The city no longer felt too large. The Guild no longer felt untouchable. I could disappear and reappear within seconds. Attack from any angle. Survive anything.

But every gift has its cost.

---

Later that night, Lira found me in the ruins again.

I didn't speak.

She did.

"You chose the veil."

I nodded.

"You're bleeding into it already. I can barely sense your presence anymore."

I looked down. My hands shimmered faintly, like heat haze. My breath didn't fog the cold air.

"What happens if I go too far?" I asked.

She hesitated.

"You stop being human."

"Do you think I care?"

She gave me a sad smile.

"I think you will. Later."

---

The next morning, a girl found me.

Not Lira.

Not a noble.

She was... ordinary. Pretty, soft-spoken, carrying a satchel full of herbs and bandages. I recognized her from the outskirts—the healer apprentice who used to smile when I passed.

Now she stared with wide eyes, holding her satchel tight.

"I heard what they say about you," she said, voice trembling. "But I don't care."

I frowned. "You should."

"You saved those kids from the wretches last week. My little brother was one of them."

I blinked. "That wasn't…"

She stepped closer. "They told me he came back saying a 'shadow man' pulled them from the dark."

I remained silent.

"I want to help," she said. "Let me stay near you. Let me learn."

"I'm not a hero."

"I know."

She blushed, then dropped her eyes.

"But you don't turn away from pain."

I didn't respond.

She stayed by me anyway.

---

That was the beginning of Ayla.

Not a mage. Not a fighter.

Just someone who believed I was still worth something, even if the rest of the world screamed otherwise.

She patched my wounds after fights. Carried potions. Cursed like a drunk guard when I ignored my injuries.

I didn't stop her.

I didn't send her away.

But I didn't let her in, either.

I couldn't.

Not yet.

---

By the end of that week, I could Veilwalk through entire buildings.

I'd tested it—phasing through the Arcanum's outer wall just for fun.

I didn't take anything.

Didn't kill anyone.

I just left a message.

Scratched into the floor of the Guild library's forbidden archives:

> "Your system's broken. I'm not."

---

Kael found me that night.

He was bleeding. Worse than before. One eye swollen shut.

He dropped to one knee, then laughed.

"You're pulling ahead."

I handed him a healing flask.

He didn't take it.

"You're stronger than me now."

"That bother you?"

He grinned. "No. It terrifies me."

We sat in silence for a while.

Then he said something I didn't expect.

"They're calling you a shadow prince now."

I raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

"Because no one's seen you in daylight for days. You walk through walls. You bleed like a ghost. And every time a bounty hunter comes close, they vanish."

I stared at the horizon.

Storms were gathering again.

"The veil offered me power," I said.

"And you took it."

I nodded.

Kael looked at me, serious now.

"Just don't forget who you were before it whispered."

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