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Chapter 3 - Chapter 3: A Hunter in the Mist

The Waystone pulsed faintly in Kael's hand—a soft, rhythmic glow like a heartbeat.

He stared at it as he stood in the center of the ruin. The Oracle had vanished into starlight, leaving him with more questions than answers. The forest around him was quiet again, too quiet, as if it had heard their conversation and now waited for the outcome.

Kael tightened his grip on the stone.

One of them is already hunting me…

He turned and stepped into the trees.

---

The deeper he went, the thicker the mist became. Gray tendrils swirled at his feet and curled around his arms like curious fingers. Even the sun seemed afraid to enter this place—its light barely touched the moss-covered ground.

The Waystone grew warmer in his palm.

Kael held it higher, and it pulled slightly to the left, like a magnet drawn to some unseen force.

So this is how it works, he thought.

He followed its guidance, his steps careful, senses sharp. Every snap of a twig or rustle of a leaf sent his heart racing. The Collector's words echoed in his head:

> "You are not supposed to exist."

Kael had never felt important before. He had always been overlooked, dismissed. But now he felt like a thread in the fabric of fate—one being pulled in directions far beyond his control.

---

After an hour, he found it.

A clearing surrounded by stone monoliths, their surfaces etched with ancient glyphs glowing faintly in the mist. In the center stood a crumbling archway, and beyond it—a path of floating stones suspended over a black void.

Kael stepped closer, and the Waystone vibrated violently.

This was the place.

He took a deep breath.

And stepped through the arch.

---

The moment his foot touched the first floating stone, reality shifted.

The air changed.

He was no longer in the forest.

Instead, he stood on a bridge of floating platforms suspended in an endless sky. Above him: a swirling vortex of stars. Below: nothingness.

Before him, at the end of the bridge—stood a tall, armored figure, its face obscured by a silver helmet. Twin swords rested in its hands. Runes glowed along its arms.

A voice echoed from nowhere and everywhere:

> "Trial One: Confrontation of the Self.

Face the reflection. Conquer the fracture. Or fall.**"

Kael's hands tingled with energy.

The armored figure stepped forward.

It's a fight, he realized.

The trial had begun.

---

Kael raised his hand and summoned his chain. The silver links glowed with runes, snaking through the air like a living thing.

His opponent didn't flinch.

In an instant, the figure lunged—moving faster than anything Kael had faced before. One moment it was across the bridge. The next—it was inches from his face, sword descending.

Kael barely blocked it with the chain, the force sending him skidding back three platforms.

It's stronger than those shadow creatures…

The enemy moved again, this time with a spinning strike. Kael ducked, summoned a shield of light just in time to block a second blow, then retaliated with a burst of divine pulse energy.

The figure staggered but didn't fall.

Its helmet turned slightly—then its form glitched for a split second.

Kael blinked.

Was that… me?

The next few seconds were chaos.

They exchanged strikes. Magic versus steel. Divine force clashing with ancient technique.

And then—

The helmet cracked.

A piece fell off.

And underneath was… Kael's own face.

Not as he was now—but how he had been: thin, weak, broken.

The old Kael.

The voice returned.

> "You carry the power of gods, but your soul still clings to weakness. Until you overcome the shadow of what you were… you cannot become what you are meant to be."

The opponent raised its sword again.

But this time, Kael understood.

This wasn't just a trial of strength.

It was a trial of identity.

He let his weapons fall.

The figure hesitated.

Kael took a step forward. "I see you."

The figure didn't move.

"I hated you," Kael said softly. "I hated how powerless you were. How you let them step on you. Beat you. Starve you."

Another step forward.

"But now I understand… it wasn't your fault. You survived when others gave up. You kept breathing when no one cared if you lived."

He reached out.

"And I won't throw you away. Because you're me."

He placed a hand on the figure's chest.

It burst into silver dust.

---

A blast of wind ripped through the sky.

The trial space shattered.

Kael dropped to one knee, gasping.

A new voice spoke:

> "Trial One… completed.

Reward: Soul Anchor Unlocked. Power Stabilization: 47%

Trial Path: Open."

Kael felt it. His divine power, once erratic, now flowed more smoothly. More… naturally. Like a second heartbeat.

The Waystone lit up again—brighter than before. Its pull turned sharply west.

Kael stood.

One trial down. But the real danger is still out there.

He turned to leave.

And stopped.

---

The forest wasn't quiet anymore.

A sharp rustling behind him.

A whisper of movement too smooth to be wind.

Kael spun, eyes glowing faintly.

"Who's there?"

Silence.

He took a step back.

And then—a blur.

Something slammed into him from behind, sending him crashing through a tree. He rolled across the ground, pain flaring through his ribs.

He looked up—

And saw a figure standing at the edge of the clearing.

Tall. Muscular. Clad in dark armor threaded with red veins of energy. His eyes glowed crimson. A jagged brand pulsed on his neck.

Kael's chest tightened.

It wasn't just a divine fragment.

This one had fused with something darker.

"Kael, isn't it?" the man said, voice like gravel. "Took me long enough to find you."

Kael stood, slowly.

"Who are you?"

The man smiled.

"The first failed god. And now… your executioner."

Kael's eyes narrowed.

Another Hunter.

And this one wasn't here to talk.

---

[TO BE CONTINUED]

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