The fire was dying when Kael reached the raiders' camp.
Charred wagons lay overturned in the mud, and the smell of burned flesh hung heavy in the air. Most of the raiders had already fled or were dead — except for one.
A man in tattered armor crawled near the edge of the campfire, clutching his side where a jagged arrow jutted out.
Kael approached in silence.
The man looked up, his face pale. "W-wait— I can pay you," he stammered. "Gold, food, women— whatever you want, just—"
Kael stopped before him, cloak dripping with rain.
His eyes were like glass — reflecting no pity, no anger, only calculation.
"You were part of the attack on Eredale," Kael said quietly.
The man froze. "We—we didn't mean to— we were ordered! The captain said the town had rebels, I swear!"
Kael knelt, his gaze fixed on the dying raider. "Did he tell you to burn the children too?"
"I— I didn't—" The man's voice broke, his words choking on guilt and fear.
Then the whisper returned.
Soft. Patient. Hungry.
"Feed me…"
Kael's chest tightened. The sigil beneath his armor began to pulse, each beat in sync with the man's trembling breaths. He could feel it — the curse, stirring like a living thing inside him. It wanted blood. It wanted life.
Kael pressed his palm against the raider's chest.
The man screamed as black veins shot from Kael's hand, sinking beneath the skin. The air filled with the sound of tearing flesh, and the dying man's life was ripped away like smoke drawn into a flame.
When it was over, only ash remained.
Kael rose slowly, staring at his hand. The veins had vanished, leaving his skin pale once again.
Inside, the hunger dulled… satisfied — for now.
Then a faint glow appeared before him.
[The Hollow Curse has fed]
Synchronization: 19%
New Trait Unlocked: Soul Sense (Lesser)
— You can now sense living souls within a limited radius.
Kael's breath misted in the cold air. He could feel them — faint, flickering lights moving beyond the woods. Survivors.
Or prey.
He turned toward the forest, the faintest smirk touching his lips. The curse wasn't a gift — it was a chain. But as long as it made him stronger, he would wear it willingly.
He moved like a shadow among the trees, guided by the pull of faint souls ahead.
When he reached the clearing, he stopped.
A girl knelt in the mud, clutching a bloodied dagger. Her clothes were torn, her hair matted with soot, but her eyes burned with defiance. Two raiders circled her like wolves.
Kael stepped out of the dark.
The men turned — one sneered. "Who the hell are you?"
Kael didn't answer.
He only raised his hand. The black sigil flared once, casting his face in pale light.
The raiders' laughter died as shadows coiled around their legs.
Their screams came next.
When silence fell, Kael stood motionless, the girl staring at him in horror.
He could feel her fear — taste it in the air. But he said nothing. He simply turned away.
"Wait!" she cried out. "Who are you?"
Kael paused. His voice was quiet, almost distant.
"No one worth remembering."
And then he was gone, swallowed by the forest as the first light of dawn touched the ruins of the world he once called home.