The humming Fenton Thermos on Kael's desk was more than a trophy; it was a starting point and a data source. It marked the end of his time as a reactive victim and the beginning of his career as a proactive chess player. The next three months became a grueling symphony of relentless pursuit of the goal he had set: Ghost Zone entry in ninety days.
His life turnded into a punishing rhythm, each day a small step toward power
Mornings (5:30 AM - 7:30 AM) belonged to the Batman Protocol. The two-hour block was sacred. His body, once soft, hardened under the relentless routine. Mile-long runs became five. Push-ups and pull-ups were done in sets of fifty, not twenty. The home gym's squat rack groaned under increasing weight. He was forging not just muscle, but willpower, shredding away the last remnants of the boy who had panicked in a cemetery.
School Hours were used for combat studies alongside class. In his 8th-grade classes—Pre-Algebra, English, General Science, Social Studies—he was the quiet, polite student who aced every test without apparent effort. But his real work happened at lunch and in free periods, where he sketched figures in the margins of his notebooks and mentally rehearsed combat forms. He joined the Chess Club and within a month, its previous best player could only stare in frustrated silence as Kael checkmated him in under fifteen moves. Kael didn't play to win; he played to analyze, to predict, to dominate the entire chess board with efficiency. It was a perfect, public reflection of his ghostly training.
Three afternoons a week were for Master Feng's dojo. The lessons evolved from basic stances to complex katas and controlled sparring. The economy of motion he learned there translated directly into his ghost form. A block here, a precise strike there—it was all about using an opponent's energy against them, about expending the minimum required force for the maximum effect. He was learning to fight smart, not just hard.
The other four evenings were dedicated to ghost studies. The Elmerton Library became his second home. He expanded his Spectral Database from local folklore to broader paranormal theory, ancient myths, and cutting-edge physics papers on dimensional membranes. His research into the cemetery's phenomenon led him to define it formally. In his notes, he created a new entry:
<<< SUBJECT: ECTOPLASMIC RIFTS >>>
Classification: Class-1 -Description: A passive, low-level dimensional tear. Not a true portal. Functions as a metaphysical "sinkhole" or "stain," accumulating residual emotional/ectoplasmic energy from traumatic events and weak geological points. Cannot generate entities; attracts and coalesces free-floating energy into low-tier specters (E-Class). Presents as persistent nuisance haunting.Threat Level: Low. Primary risk is swarm tactics from mindless echoes.Reference Case: Old Elmerton Cemetery.
This knowledge was power. If he could understand it, he could eventually predict it, and even seal it. The fight there hadn't just been a battle; it had been a field study.
But his most critical work happened in the basement lab he'd slowly established in the spare room. This was where he executed his three-month technological roadmap.
Phase 1: Containment was complete. The Fenton Thermos worked, but it was bulky. He spent two weeks meticulously disassembling and studying it, and by the end of the first month, he had built a more compact, efficient prototype he dubbed the Ecto-Capsule. It held less ecto-mass but was faster to aim and recharge.Phase 2: Detection & Analysis consumed the second month. The basic Fenton Ecto-Scanner was a blunt instrument. Using parts ordered online and concepts from his research, he soldered and coded late into the night. He finally succeeded in integrating a simple Heads-Up Display (HUD) into a pair of sleek, black goggles. When activated, they could overlay basic readouts—THREAT: E-2 onto his vision. It was a revolutionary advantage as he even included his D tier info in it. Before it could detect only e tier thanks to his slight modification before the battle. But now it can store all tier info if given reference. Phase 3: Automated Defense was his current project for the third month: the Sentry Node. It was a frustrating notion of wiring and energy regulation problems, but the blueprint was solid. It wasn't be ready for the cemetery, but it was the next step.
His ghostly training was where the results were most visible. Every night, he pushed his limits, and the results were now gratifying.
Stamina, his greatest weakness, improved dramatically. He could now maintain his form for 2 hour of intense activity. The draining panic was gone, replaced by a steady, controlled flow of energy.Invisibility was now Intermediate mastery. He could hold it for several minutes and move slowly while maintaining it. However, rapid movement or attacks would still cause it to fail. True "combat stealth" was a skill for B-Tier.Intangibility reached Proficient mastery. He could phase a single arm through a wall to grab something or let an attack pass through his torso without losing his concentration or form. It was a precise tactical tool.The Blue-Fire Ray was Proficient. It was no longer a sputtering blast but a precise, sustained beam he could hold for several seconds, capable of cutting through metal.
Yet, one ability frustrated him: the Ghost Shield. He understood the theory—a focused, shaped manifestation of his aura into a defensive barrier. But in practice, he could only create a brief, shimmering wall of energy that shattered under the slightest pressure. He knew this skill was the gatekeeper to the C-Tier; a defense that would allow him to survive encounters beyond mindless echoes.
The breakthrough came during a sparring session at Master Feng's. He was paired with a larger, stronger opponent. Blocking the punches jarred his arms. Master Feng called out, "Veyne! Stop blocking the force. Redirect it! Guide it away! Your defense must be active, not a wall!"
The words struck Kael like a lightning bolt. He wasn't trying to create a wall; he was trying to create a field.
That night in the upskirt of the house, he didn't try to solidify his aura. Instead, as he summoned his energy, he focused on the concept of deflection. The electric blue and silver energy flared around his arm, swirling into a vibrating, disc-like vortex. He shot blue fire at a tree, and a small branch snapped off and shot toward him. He thrust his arm forward.
Instead of shattering, the shimmering energy disc deflected the branch, sending it spinning harmlessly away. The shield held for a full second before Kael's concentration broke and it dissipated. It was Beginner-level mastery—unstable and crude—but it was a shield. Not a wall—a dynamic, active defense.
In that moment, he felt a familiar "click" deep within his core. The constant hum of his ghost energy, which had grown steadily stronger, suddenly smoothed out and deepened. It was no longer a volatile generator; it was a reliable reactor. His aura flared, not with uncontrolled power, but with a new, solid intensity. The silver ripples within it calmed from chaotic cracks into steady, wave-like patterns.
He had done it. He had ascended. The relentless grind, the study, the failure, and the perseverance—it had all fused together into a new whole.
Kael Veyne was now a C-Tier ghost.
He looked at his hands, buzzing with newfound power and control. The journey to the Ghost Zone no longer felt like a distant dream. He will step into the Ghost Zone soon.