The battlefield of Cindermoor lay in smoldering ruin, strewn with corpses and soaked in blood. But Kael's attention was locked onto the veiled figure before him — a shadow-clad swordsman who moved with ghostlike silence.
The figure stepped forward, dragging a jagged black blade that left a trail of withering ground behind it.
"I am Velgrin, First Blade of the Forgotten Order,"
"Sent to test the Sovereign's rebirth."
Kael narrowed his eyes. "Then draw your blade fully. Or fall like the rest."
Velgrin moved.
It was not like any foe Kael had faced — he didn't charge. He vanished. And reappeared behind Kael in a blink, blade humming with anti-magic energy.
Kael blocked just in time, Ashrend and the voidblade clashing with a sound like splitting worlds. Sparks and crimson lightning burst from the impact.
Velgrin twisted, bringing his elbow up and catching Kael's ribs.
Kael staggered back, blood in his mouth.
"Your blade remembers… but you do not," Velgrin whispered, "That is your weakness."
But Kael's voice was calm.
"Then let it remember for me."
He stepped forward, the Crimson Mark flaring. Red lightning arced up his arm. His aura thickened, painting the world in violent crimson.
"Infernal Crosscut."
A dual-blade slash — Ashrend and Duskrend forming an X — launched a wave of burning force. Velgrin parried, barely, but was thrown back a dozen meters, black coat shredded.
The ground beneath him cracked.
Lyra, Isryn, and Darric stood ready nearby — but Kael lifted a hand.
"This is mine."
They circled now, both swordsmen bleeding aura, their blades resonating with old magic and dark prophecy. Thunder rumbled overhead, and the battlefield held its breath.
Velgrin whispered something in a dead tongue and lunged. Kael met him mid-strike.
"Crimson Resonance!"
A devastating flurry of slashes erupted from Kael, each strike humming with red lightning and ancient wrath. Ashrend's glow burned brighter than ever before — a soul-deep scream rising from its core.
Velgrin faltered.
One final strike cleaved through his voidblade—shattering it.
Kael stood over him, breathing hard. Velgrin coughed blood, laughing quietly.
"You are not ready… but you will be. And when you awaken fully…"
"Even the Sovereign will fear you."
Then his body unraveled into dust and shadow, leaving only silence.
Later, as dawn broke over the burnt earth, Kael sat alone on a shattered outcrop. Lyra joined him, offering water.
"Another one who knew you," she said gently.
"He wasn't wrong," Kael said. "Ashrend remembers. I still don't."
Darric approached. "What now?"
Kael looked out toward the mountains.
"We go east. To the Ruined Sanctum."
"Why?" Isryn asked.
Kael stood slowly, the Crimson Mark glowing faintly beneath his torn armor.
"Because that's where the Blade was first forged."