Morning light filtered through the attic window, gilding dust motes like drifting embers hanging in the still air.
Rei blinked awake, heartbeat steady, mind sharp — trained by months surviving in the wild. He sat up slowly, testing his breathing before reaching inward with practiced focus.
Nothing unstable. No flare. No distortion.
He had control.
He was safe.
His fingers closed around a small pouch of coin — earned by selling herbs and a cracked goblin dagger he had found in the forest. Tucking his bronze guild tag into the inner pocket of his cloak, Rei quietly made his way downstairs.
The adventurer's guild was already buzzing despite the early hour. The rich scent of fried eggs and spiced potatoes filled the air. Guild members leaned on tables, swapping stories, scarfing down thick honeyed bread.
Rei sat in the far corner with a plate of eggs and what looked to be sausage, although from what animal no one knows. His hood was pulled low.
His ears did the hunting.
Nearby, two adventurers whispered urgently by the bounty board.
"You hear about the Red Spire Guild?" the woman's voice was low, almost conspiratorial.
The broad-shouldered man grunted. "What about them?"
"They've left the Eastern side entirely. Rumor is they're chasing a Worldbreaker."
Rei's hand froze around his fork.
"Thought those were just stories," the man muttered.
"Not this time. This one was born with the class — no summoning, no divine trigger. Just... happened. Grew up in the Kuran Wastes. Split a canyon when he was eight."
"Bullshit."
"Maybe. But the bounty was real. Black ink seal. The kind nobles only post when they're scared."
"And the Red Spire took it?"
"Whole guild mobilized."
A chill crept into Rei's bones.
So it wasn't just whispers in Varell.
There were real hunters.
Real threats.
And if they caught wind of him…
No.
He had to be more careful than ever.
When the pair rose and moved toward the counter, Rei waited a moment before standing himself. He approached the quest board, fingers running along the lower seals until stopping at a green-tagged parchment.
[ GOBLIN NEST: LOCAL CLEARANCE ]
Location: Wyrmroot Hills, 2 leagues south of Bellenridge
Threat Level: Low (Bronze)
Details: A nest of goblins spotted by a farming caravan. No hob or shaman sighted.
Reward: 40 silver + material salvage
Status: Solo-eligible
Perfect.
Low visibility.
Far enough from patrols, close enough for a quick return.
He tore the tag free and approached the receptionist.
"Kael Ashen," he said calmly. "I'll take the Wyrmroot Hills goblin quest."
She glanced at his guild tag, then stamped the request with a crisp seal.
"Don't die."
The path to the hills was easy at first — dirt roads fading into winding animal trails beneath scattered pines and brambles. He walked alone, just as he liked it.
Once the city was behind him, Rei sharpened his focus.
He reached inward, touching the fragment of power lying beneath his skin.
It stirred like a sleeping beast roused by a whisper.
A faint shimmer crackled across his palm — not flame, not lightning, but something deeper: raw, compressed force. Not destructive unless he willed it.
He'd learned to shape it — small barriers, bursts of kinetic energy, even temporary limbs: invisible constructs for defense and movement.
Not quite magic. Not quite physical.
Like quietly breaking the world's rules in pieces.
He no longer called it Worldbreaker. The name felt like a curse — a label others gave monsters. One that would get him in trouble if others overheard.
He called it his.
By sundown, he found the nest tucked into a shallow ravine's side. The stench of rot and mildew hung thick. Two sentries chattered outside, dragging bones from some unlucky creature.
Rei crouched in the treeline and focused.
A pulse of force — quiet, precise — slammed one goblin into the dirt before it could scream.
The other tried to flee, but Rei was already moving.
An invisible force-hand gripped its leg mid-leap, slamming it back down.
Silently, he slipped a short dagger between the goblin's ribs and let it fade.
No unnecessary destruction.
No signs of strange power.
Just clean efficiency.
Within a couple hours, he cleared the nest — traps, guards, even a goblin whelp that hissed before going unconscious.
He spared the whelp.
Maybe it was foolish sentiment, but part of him understands what it means to be hunted for being born the wrong way.
When Rei returned to Bellenridge, the stars had reclaimed the sky. He carried proof of the nest's clearing — three goblin ears and a sack of crude iron.
The receptionist barely looked up.
"That was fast."
"It was quiet," he said.
She stamped his tag, handed over the silver, and waved him away without question.
Back at the inn, Rei locked the door behind him.
Sitting at the edge of his bedroll, he unwrapped his earnings and placed the coin carefully on the floor.
Then, reaching inward once more, he pulled a sliver of power into his palm.
He shaped it into a small blade of force.
Not to kill — just to understand.
The world was changing.
And the whispers were growing louder.