The road to Kelross wound through rolling hills and sparse woodland, the kind of terrain that promised quiet travel but often delivered the opposite. Kael trudged behind the others, burdened as always with packs and crates. His shoulders ached, but he welcomed the weight. Pain was a teacher, and [Develop] absorbed every lesson greedily.
For the others, the trip was lighthearted.
"Another city, another tavern of cheering fans," Aldric boasted, adjusting his spotless cape. "They'll shower us with gifts when they hear of my heroics."
"Your heroics?" Serenya scoffed, brushing a lock of silver hair behind her ear. "I recall the goblins nearly skewering you when you tripped over your own cape."
Garron roared with laughter, nearly toppling his pack horse. "Aye! You'd have kissed the dirt if my shield hadn't caught that spear!"
Aldric's face reddened. "It was a feint, you oaf! A deliberate lure."
Kael smirked faintly at their bickering. The hero was arrogant, the mage venomous, the knight boisterous, and the healer… too kind. In any other party, they might have collapsed under their own clashing egos. But divine prophecy bound them together, and Kael—expendable baggage—was chained with them.
He didn't mind. Shadows thrived in the company of blind men.
Three days out from Kelross, the quiet ended.
It started with tracks in the dirt—too large for wolves, too clawed for boar. Kael spotted them first, but said nothing. Aldric, of course, noticed later and loudly declared his "keen eyes" had discovered signs of monsters.
By dusk, the source revealed itself.
The hills opened to a clearing, and in it, a hulking beast feasted on a dead stag. Twice the size of a man, with matted fur, yellow eyes, and jagged tusks, it was a warg—an apex predator known for tearing caravans apart.
The Hero's party halted. Garron's hand went to his shield, Serenya began an incantation, Lyria whispered a prayer, and Aldric grinned like a man greeting an old friend.
"At last, something worthy of my blade!" He charged before anyone else could speak.
"Wait—!" Lyria called, but he was already sprinting, sword raised.
Kael cursed inwardly. In his assassin days, charging headlong into an unknown opponent was suicide. Aldric didn't see the details Kael saw: the beast's thick muscles, the uneven ground that would disrupt footwork, the twitch of its hind legs ready to spring.
The warg lunged, jaws snapping. Aldric barely dodged, his cape tearing under fangs. He swung, carving a shallow line across the beast's flank. The warg roared, enraged but not wounded enough.
"Idiot," Serenya muttered, casting a firebolt. Flames streaked through the dusk, striking the warg's shoulder. The beast flinched, but turned on her with a snarl.
Garron rushed forward, shield high, intercepting the charge. The impact reverberated through the clearing, knocking the knight back a step. "Strong bastard!" he grunted.
Lyria's prayers flowed, shimmering light coating Aldric's blade and Garron's shield.
And Kael?
He set down the baggage and drew a dagger, eyes narrowing. His blood sang with anticipation. A perfect opportunity to test himself.
The warg snapped at Garron, its fangs scraping steel. Aldric slashed wildly, each strike too shallow, each movement burning stamina. Serenya launched another firebolt, forcing the beast to shift, but its fury only grew.
Kael slipped into motion. Silent, controlled, his steps flowed from shadow to shadow until he circled behind the beast.
The assassin's part of him whispered: Sever tendons. Blind the eyes. Cut where it cannot strike back.
He leapt, driving his dagger toward the beast's rear leg. Steel bit deep, slicing through muscle. The warg howled, collapsing briefly onto one knee.
[Dagger Mastery Lv.3 → Lv.4]
[Targeted Strike Acquired] – Bonus damage when attacking weak points.
Kael grinned. Already the skill etched itself into his body. He moved again, ducking a wild kick, slashing another tendon. The beast stumbled.
"Loader?!" Aldric shouted, disbelief twisting his voice. "What do you think you're doing?!"
"Keeping you alive," Kael muttered under his breath, too low for the Hero to hear.
The warg thrashed, blood spraying from its crippled legs. It spun, jaws snapping toward Kael. He rolled aside, narrowly avoiding teeth that could have crushed bone. His heart pounded—but beneath the adrenaline was exhilaration. Every movement honed sharper, every dodge more precise.
[Poise Lv.1 → Lv.2]
[Evasion Acquired] – Reaction time and dodging efficiency improved.
The beast lunged at him again, but Garron's shield slammed into its flank, knocking it off balance. "I'll hold it!" the knight bellowed. "Strike, Hero!"
Aldric seized the chance, plunging his glowing sword into the warg's chest. With a roar, the beast collapsed, blood pooling beneath its body.
Silence fell.
The party panted, staring at the carcass. Then Aldric straightened, wiping blood from his blade. "Another glorious victory!" he declared. "The Hero triumphs again!"
Serenya muttered something obscene under her breath. Garron chuckled weakly. Lyria exhaled in relief.
Kael quietly wiped his dagger clean.
Later, at camp, Aldric recounted his "battle prowess" for the fiftieth time. "You should have seen it! The beast lunged, but I anticipated its movements. With flawless precision, I delivered the fatal strike!"
Serenya snorted. "Yes, after our porter crippled it."
The fire crackled. Aldric froze, then forced a laugh. "The boy got lucky. A fluke, nothing more."
Kael said nothing, chewing his rations with calm indifference.
But Lyria's gaze lingered on him again, soft and curious. Garron gave him a nod of respect, subtle but genuine. Serenya's eyes narrowed, assessing him like an unsolved riddle.
Kael ignored them all outwardly, but inside, his thoughts burned.
Luck? No. Every strike, every dodge, every poison he swallowed in secret—none of it was luck. [Develop] was molding him into something else, something sharper than any blade Aldric could swing.
And tonight, he would push it further.
After the others slept, Kael retreated into the woods. He drew the practice sword again, repeating drills until his arms quivered. He slashed, parried, thrust, sweat pouring, lungs burning.
[Swordsmanship Lv.6 → Lv.7]
[Stamina Control Lv.1 → Lv.2]
He uncorked the rest of the poison vial, drinking deep. Agony wracked him, but he endured, gritting his teeth until the system rewarded him.
[Poison Resistance Lv.3 → Lv.4]
[Endurance Acquired] – Sustain injuries and fatigue longer without collapse.
He collapsed to one knee, panting, vision spinning. Yet his lips curled into a grin. Faster. Stronger. More.
If this pace continued, Aldric and his party wouldn't just underestimate him—they would be incapable of keeping up.
And when the day came that betrayal struck again—as it always did—Kael would not be the victim.
He would be the blade.