The forest hadn't been silent for long.
The moment Kael staggered out of the ruins, the world seemed sharper, darker. Every rustle of leaves, every crack of a twig echoed in his head. His senses… had changed.
But he wasn't alone.
From the shadows, armored men emerged—three of them, their swords gleaming under the moonlight. Their armor bore the crest of Lord Veynor, the corrupt noble who controlled the borderlands.
"There he is," one of the soldiers spat, lifting his blade. "The boy who trespassed on sacred ground. Orders are clear—kill him, bring back the weapon."
Kael's grip tightened on the cursed sword. His chest pounded.
"I… I don't want to fight," he muttered.
The lead soldier sneered. "Then die quickly."
They charged.
Instinct took over. Kael barely raised the sword when the first blow came crashing down. Sparks flew. The cursed blade met steel, but instead of shattering, the obsidian edge sliced clean through the soldier's weapon—then through the man himself.
Blood sprayed across the grass.
Kael froze, horror twisting his stomach.
"I—I didn't mean—"
The sword pulsed, glowing brighter, feeding on the blood it had spilled. Kael felt the heat surge through his veins again, the same burning fire from before. His vision bled red.
The second soldier attacked, screaming.
Kael moved faster than he thought possible—his blade carving a crimson arc through the air. Another body fell.
The last man trembled, dropping his weapon.
"D-demon! You're no human!" he stammered before fleeing into the trees.
Kael stood among the corpses, chest heaving, hands shaking.
The sword was silent now, but Kael could feel it whispering in the back of his mind. It had tasted blood. It wanted more.
Kael dropped to his knees, gasping.
"What… what have I become?"
Above him, the moon glowed blood-red, as if watching, waiting.
End of Chapter 3.