The dormitories of the Longfang Guild were never silent. Even at dawn, the air was thick with the sound of footsteps, clattering gear, and the barked laughter of hunters preparing for another day beyond the walls.
Kael sat on the edge of his cot, boots planted firmly on the floor. The faint morning light bled through the shutters, catching the scars and dried blood on his clothes. Around him, the other hunters whispered just loud enough for him to hear.
"…that's him. The only one who came back."
"Why him? Why not Fenric or Jalen?"
"Because he hid, obviously. Trash always finds a way to crawl back."
The voices brushed against his ears, but Kael gave no sign he noticed. His gaze was fixed forward, calm, unblinking. Inside his chest, the Eye stirred, threads of bloodline shimmering faintly around the room. Strength. Speed. Resilience. Each hunter glowed with something he could take.
The hunger whispered. *One choice. One bloodline.*
Kael's lips curved in the faintest shadow of a smile.
He rose, fastening his cloak around his shoulders. The whispers faltered as he passed, unease rippling in his wake. Some hunters sneered. Others looked away. Pity and scorn clung to him like smoke.
By the time he reached the guildhall, the place was already alive. Mission boards crowded the walls, covered in parchment slips detailing Rift expeditions, beast hunts, and escort duties. Teams clustered around tables, dividing spoils and arguing over assignments.
Kael paused at the edge of the hall.
Eyes turned toward him. Again, the same hushed remarks.
"The survivor."
"The weakling."
"Why is he even here?"
Kael ignored them all, his calm footsteps carrying him toward the mission board.
From the second-floor balcony, Selene Veyra's voice cut through the noise. Clear, steady, commanding.
"Team assignments are being logged now. Submit your names in groups of four or more. Lone applicants will be placed at my discretion."
Her gaze swept the hall, sharp as a drawn blade—then paused, for a breath too long, on Kael.