The morning sun spilled over the emerald canopy of the Elrinthian Forest. Birds sang songs Kael didn't recognize, and the air smelled sweet—almost too sweet, like it had never known pollution or sorrow.
But Kael felt neither peace nor awe.
He felt the weight of knowledge—the blueprint for a portal that could take him home.
"Five shards," he whispered, sitting beneath an ancient tree. "Five core ingredients scattered across this world… and no map."
His fingers twitched with instinct. He reached into the satchel at his side and pulled out the crystal fragment—the only physical proof of what he'd earned inside the dungeon.
The goddess had told him: "When you turn fifteen, you'll receive a gift—a guide to your journey."
But the dungeon had given him something greater: a mind-map burned into his genius brain. He could see it when he closed his eyes. A translucent schematic of the Dimensional Gate Drive, complete with instructions for collecting the five essential "Shards of Return":
1. The Flamecore Fang – guarded by the fire serpents of Mount Rynas.
2. The Echo Tear – hidden deep in the Singing Caverns of Luvalis.
3. The Skybinder Feather – held by the Valkyn Queen above the Stormreach Cliffs.
4. The Obsidian Heart – buried in the cursed mines of Arvalon.
5. The Chrono Seed – lost within a living labyrinth that changes with time.
Each shard was guarded by monstrous legends or sealed in forbidden places. And Kael—though a genius—was still a boy in a magic-filled world.
He clenched his fists.
"No magic in my world, sure. But here? I'll use everything this world gives me."
Just then, the brush behind him rustled.
Kael rolled, grabbing his dagger.
Out of the leaves stepped a girl—perhaps fourteen—with short white hair and crimson eyes. She held a bow longer than she was tall, carved from blackwood.
"You've got dungeon scent on you," she said flatly. "You're either stupid or very lucky."
Kael didn't lower his dagger.
"Who's asking?"
She pointed to herself.
"Lyra. Monster hunter. And you're sitting in a firehound nesting field."
Kael blinked. He turned slowly.
Behind him, nestled just beyond a thorn bush… three baby firehounds, growling softly.
"Oh no."
The ground vibrated. A massive shadow fell over them both.
Kael looked up… and saw the mother.
Kael's breath caught.
Towering above them was the Firehound Queen — twelve feet tall, her body covered in molten-black fur laced with glowing lava veins. Her eyes blazed like twin furnaces, and her growl cracked the air like thunder.
Lyra didn't flinch. She had an arrow nocked already.
"We can't outrun her," she said calmly. "Got a plan, genius?"
Kael's mind spun through calculations — size, weight, range, pressure, trajectory. The terrain behind them sloped downward to a creek bed.
"She won't chase far from her pups," Kael muttered, eyes scanning. "She's protective, not predatory."
"How does that help us?" Lyra hissed as the queen stepped forward, claws scorching the earth.
"We use it."
He grabbed a handful of fireroot powder from his pouch — an alchemical dust he had ground himself — and tossed it toward the queen's paws.
BOOM!
A flash of fire exploded. The queen reared back, snarling, blinded for a heartbeat.
Kael grabbed Lyra's hand.
"Now!"
They sprinted down the slope as the air behind them turned molten.
The Firehound Queen charged once—just once—stopping at the ridge's edge to check on her pups. She roared, but did not follow.
Kael and Lyra rolled to a stop near the stream, coughing smoke.
"That… was reckless," Lyra said between breaths.
"That… was calculated," Kael corrected, smirking.
She looked at him again, this time with narrowed curiosity.
"You're not normal."
Kael wiped soot from his face. "No. I'm not. I'm looking for the Flamecore Fang. And I think you just became my best chance of finding it."
Lyra raised an eyebrow.
"You're hunting the shards?"
Kael's expression turned serious. "You know them?"
She nodded slowly. "Heard of them. Everyone in this world knows the legends. Only fools chase them. Or heroes."
"I'm neither," Kael said. "I'm someone who has no other choice."
Lyra studied him, then pulled a small, torn map from her cloak.
"Mount Rynas. That's where your Flamecore Fang lives. It's not far… but the mountain doesn't like visitors."
Kael's eyes narrowed. "Then I'll knock until it opens the door."
Lyra smirked.
"Reckless and arrogant. You really are fun."
Kael stood, helping her to her feet.
"Let's move. That was just a warning. Next time, she won't hesitate."
As they disappeared into the woods, the Firehound Queen watched from the ridge, her pups huddled behind her. She growled softly—not in anger, but in… recognition.
That boy… was different.
Mount Rynas was visible even from miles away—its jagged black peak scraping the clouds like a spear. Rivers of magma snaked down its side, glowing faintly in the dusk. The mountain pulsed with heat, its breath thick with sulfur and embers.
Kael and Lyra stood at the base of a cracked obsidian path winding upward.
"This is no ordinary volcano," Lyra warned, tightening the straps on her quiver. "The Flame Serpents here don't just burn. They think."
"Good," Kael said, adjusting the straps of his prototype gauntlets. "I came prepared."
His eyes gleamed with anticipation. These weren't weapons—yet. They were tools of manipulation, designed to handle extreme temperatures and amplify physical strength by converting kinetic energy. They were his latest invention, built using the parts salvaged from dungeon remains and scrap metal from a dwarven forge.
As they ascended, the wind grew hotter, heavier. Kael's boots sizzled on the volcanic stone. He activated the thermal shields in his gloves, smiling faintly when the heat readings stabilized.
Lyra noticed. "You really are something else."
"Magic's off-limits for me when I return home," Kael replied, "so I build what I can't cast."
They reached the first cavern mouth: wide, dark, and breathing.
A warning.
"Once we enter," Lyra said, nocking her bow, "the mountain decides whether we leave."
Kael nodded and stepped in.
Inside was a labyrinth of glowing red tunnels and obsidian pillars, the air thick with ash. The further they went, the more the walls shimmered—alive with the energy of the Flame Serpents.
Suddenly, a hiss echoed.
From a lava pool ahead, a serpent of fire uncoiled—thirty feet long, its body forged from molten rock, its eyes pure embers.
"The guardian," Lyra whispered.
"No," Kael said, narrowing his eyes. "Just the first one."
The serpent lunged.
Kael dodged, barely avoiding its flaming jaws. He rolled and slammed his gauntlet into the ground, unleashing a shockwave that staggered the serpent backward.
"Lyra! Aim for its throat scales. That's where it flexes the most!"
Lyra didn't hesitate—three arrows in quick succession.
The serpent screeched as the last arrow struck true, sending it crashing back into the lava.
Silence followed.
Kael exhaled, sweat dripping from his brow.
"That was just a scout," he muttered. "The Flamecore Fang won't be unguarded."
"We're close," Lyra said, glancing at the glowing veins in the walls. "The mountain's waking up."
Kael stepped forward, deeper into the molten halls.
"Then let it wake."
The cavern opened into a massive, dome-shaped chamber—walls of obsidian shimmering with rivers of lava flowing through crystalline veins. At its center, floating above a jagged altar, was a crimson relic pulsing with fierce heat: the Flamecore Fang.
It looked like a fang-shaped shard made of condensed fire and energy—surrounded by a ring of ancient glyphs flickering with unstable light.
"There it is," Kael said, his voice low with awe. "The first shard."
But the moment his foot touched the inner ring of the chamber, the ground shuddered violently.
From behind the altar, a massive form rose—twice the size of the Firehound Queen, with wings of ash and a skeletal jaw dripping magma.
A Flame Warden.
"That's no serpent," Lyra muttered, stepping back.
"That's the guardian," Kael said grimly. "The final one."
The creature roared, fire bursting from its mouth in a tidal wave. Kael leapt sideways, his gauntlet absorbing part of the heat. Lyra rolled into a crouch and fired an arrow directly into the Warden's eye.
It bounced off harmlessly.
"Its hide's reinforced with crystallized magma," Kael calculated aloud. "But… its chest vents every time it exhales."
He grabbed a small device from his pouch and threw it forward. It latched onto the stone and deployed—a compact kinetic launcher.
"Aim for the core when I expose it!"
Kael charged. As the Warden inhaled, Kael kicked off a molten rock, slamming his gauntlet directly into its ribcage. The Warden exhaled in pain, exposing a glowing node beneath its sternum.
"Now, Lyra!"
Her arrow flew, wrapped in frost essence.
Boom!
The collision of ice and flame erupted into a steam shockwave that cracked the Warden's armor. Kael didn't wait. With both gauntlets, he struck the cracked spot with everything he had.
A blinding flash.
The Warden screeched and collapsed into dust and flame.
Silence.
Only the soft hum of the Flamecore Fang remained.
Kael walked forward slowly. He reached out, fingers trembling slightly, and touched the shard.
It floated into his hand, instantly syncing with the gauntlets, causing their cores to glow crimson.
"One down," he whispered. "Four to go."
Lyra walked beside him, panting.
"You really are insane."
"No," Kael said softly. "I just made a promise. One I'll burn the world to keep."
He looked at the shard—its heat no longer hurting him.
"Wait for me, Aira. I'm coming."
The chamber dimmed, and the glyphs around the altar faded. Somewhere in the mountain's depths, an ancient presence stirred.
Kael had taken the first step toward returning to his world—stronger, smarter, and no longer afraid to fight fate.
To be continue...