The morning air hung heavy with heat as dust rose in soft clouds from the sunbaked training ground just outside the Gulch's outer walls—a place Kael once knew like the lines on his own palm.
It had only been two days since he'd returned from the future.
Nobody suspected a thing.
To everyone else, Kael was still the same mid-level swordsman — who was worthless.
A C-ranker on a good day. Maybe B if he really pushed himself.
But that wasn't the whole truth.
Inside him, something had shifted. Trembled awake.
A second power had stirred. The Grim Reaper's power.
It wasn't something blinding or flashy—nothing anyone could see with the naked eye.
His status window still showed the same old numbers, the same unimpressive stats.
But deep within, something... darker... waited. Coiled like a viper in the shadows of his soul.
He looked down at the chipped iron sword hanging from his waist. There was nothing remarkable about it. Just a basic weapon. But the way he held it now? That was his gift. Pure mastery. Precise, flawless swordsmanship.
That was the part he allowed people to notice.
The other part? The one that whispered to him through tendrils of black mist late at night, the power that came back with him?
That stayed hidden.
For now.....
Kael stood in front of the assignment board, pretending to scan the mission requests like he hadn't already memorized them.
A few familiar voices passed behind him—laughter that hadn't changed in years.
"Still hanging around, Kael?"
"No promotions yet? Maybe try sweeping the floors again!"
He didn't look up.
He knew those voices. Knew how many weeks each of those mockers had left to live. Some would fall to monsters. One of them... would go far worse.
But he kept his face neutral. Calm. Patient.
Then, a small, easily overlooked mission caught his eye:
💢 Request: Subjugate Wild Beasts – North Forest Outpost
Reward: 3,000 Ryel
Rank: B-class or lower
Note: Low risk. Swordsmen preferred.
Perfect....
An easy job. Something he could finish without breaking a sweat.
He tore the request slip off the board, showed his guild token to the receptionist—still the same impatient woman from before—and left without a single word.
Night fell over the forest.
Not a leaf rustled. Not a bird chirped. Too quiet.
Kael moved through the treeline like a shadow. A blur of motion with a blade.
Three wild beasts fell in mere minutes, killed with silent, effortless strikes. No waste. No struggle.
But as he turned to finish the last one, something shifted.
A presence.
A fourth beast stepped out from behind the trees. Larger. Darker. Its eyes leaking purple energy. Corrupted. Touched by the Void.
This wasn't part of the mission.
Kael sighed under his breath.
He couldn't take this one down with swordwork alone. Not fast enough. Not clean enough. Not without revealing what he truly was now.
He stepped back, gauging its movements. The creature pulsed with pressure. In the past, Kael might've died here.
But this wasn't the past.
He reached under his cloak—and pulled out a mask.
Black. Smooth. Cold to the touch.
His own creation. A piece of the power he'd sworn to keep hidden.
He closed his eyes for a beat.
"Forgive me, Alia… Mira… Just this once."
He fitted the mask over his face.
The mist began swirling—slowly at first, then faster, wilder—wrapping around his arms, chest, and blade like a storm waiting to break.
His eyes began to glow.
And when he stepped forward—
There was no noise.
No struggle.
Only one strike.
And it was over.
By the time dawn painted the sky, the forest was silent once more.
No one had seen him.
No one would know.
Only whispers would drift out from the trees—that a dark figure wearing a mask had been seen slaying a corrupted beast. A ghost. A myth. A shadow without a name.
Kael returned to the Guild at sunrise, just as calm as ever.
His report was short and clean.
"Wild beasts cleared," he said.
The receptionist blinked in surprise.
"Already...?"
"They were weaker than expected," he replied simply.
He left before she could ask anything else.
Outside, the wind brushed against his face as the sky brightened with soft morning hues.
He didn't smile.
But something in him felt... settled.
This was the right path.
Until he found the traitor in the future timeline...
Until he could stop Mira and Alia from being slaughtered again...
He would stay hidden.
Act small.
Play weak.
But the world had no idea.
The Grim Reaper had returned.
And when the world cried out for a savior...
No one would know it was him.
To be continued...