The small town of Greystone clung to the wilderness like a wounded beast, its walls scarred from past attacks. At its heart stood the **Longfang Guild**, the single force that gave the settlement structure and order.
Inside its gates walked a lone figure.
Kael.
Blood dried on his clothes, wounds half-healed, his eyes calm as still water. He walked with quiet steadiness, ignoring the whispers that rippled behind him.
"Isn't that Kael Ardyn?"
"The trash bloodline? I thought his whole squad was wiped out."
"Why's he the only one who made it back?"
"He must've hidden while the others fought. Coward."
Some pitied, some scorned, most dismissed him. Kael paid them no mind.
He pushed open the guildhall doors. The air inside was thick with sweat, ale, and noise—until his arrival silenced it.
Hunters looked up, eyes narrowing.
A man with hawk-feathered arms stood. "Where's your team, boy? Don't tell me you're the only survivor."
Kael stared, unblinking.
Murmurs grew. Another voice sneered, "Figures. Trash blood survives while the strong fall. He probably ran." Laughter echoed.
Kael stepped forward, unhurried.
"Hey!" The hawk-man blocked him. "How'd you get out alive? And those wounds—they're closing fast. What are you hiding?"
Kael's lips barely moved. "None of your business."
The man bristled, feathers rising.
Then—
"Enough."
The voice cut sharp as a blade.
All eyes turned to the stairs. A young woman descended, her steps steady, presence commanding. She was barely twenty, her black hair tied back, her leather armor fitting like a second skin.
She wasn't the guildmaster. She was the **Voice Leader of Longfang**, the one who carried the guild's authority in the hall.
Her gaze swept across the room, pinning the hawk-bloodline man in place before turning to Kael. "Your squad entered the Rift outskirts. Where are they?"
Kael inclined his head once.
Her expression darkened. "…Dead, then." She exhaled, lips tightening. "Another team lost."
For a heartbeat, her sharp eyes lingered on him, as if sensing something beneath the calm surface. Then she spoke firmly: "You'll give your report later. For now—clean yourself up."
Kael dipped his head slightly and walked deeper into the guildhall. The crowd's whispers swirled around him like gnats.
*"Why's he so calm?"*
*"That wasn't the Kael I remember."*
*"Trash or not, something's different."*
Kael ignored them all.
The Eye pulsed faintly in his chest. Threads of bloodline shimmered around the room, glowing like prey. His lips curved in the faintest shadow of a smile.
*Soon.*