Examining the blade, Kaelis couldn't help but admire his own craftsmanship.
Although his ability was described simply as one that "summons blades," that was far from accurate.
In truth, it was closer to blade generation—creation rather than mere summoning.
He didn't just pull weapons from some distant vault or dimension.
Each one had to be conceived in his mind—its shape, material, and properties visualized with precision before it could take form.
The uniqueness of his creations reflected that fact.
Where most would conjure standard, utilitarian swords, his designs bore individuality—etched with laughable meaning, infused with the purpose of only to look cool.
Running a finger lightly along the corrupted blade's edge, Kaelis tilted his head, wondering how potent its infection truly was.
How fast could it spread? Would it twist only flesh, or reach into the soul itself?
His gaze drifted downward, scanning the silent ruins below for potential test subjects—uninfected survivors who might serve as experiments.
But there were none. The place was empty, lifeless only roamed by the mindless.
"…No one left," he murmured.
A faint sigh followed, then a flicker of thought.
"That train shouldn't have gone far, right?"
He had barely registered that the sun was on its way down.
'Probably around 5 o'clock.'
Time was a fickle thing for him.
Whenever he entered the second method of study—spreading his spirit and probing the essence of things—he lost all sense of its passing.
What felt like moments could span days, months, perhaps even decades, depending on the complexity of what he studied.
He glanced at the now-pulverized remains of the Kabane's membrane.
This one was simple enough… a day or two at most.
With a shrug, he dismissed the sword, the weapon dissolving into a faint shimmer of crimson light.
"…I'll just follow the train tracks," he decided softly. "They'll lead somewhere."
With that, Kaelis stepped off the edge of the rooftop and soared into the distance, his sash fluttering behind him as the city quickly disappeared in the distance.
He kept his speed at a restrained pace—minimal by his standards—though every casual movement still tore through the air with sharp, echoing booms.
His senses stayed alert, scanning the landscape below for any sign of the train.
After roughly ten minutes, his eyes caught something glinting in the far distance.
Narrowing his gaze and sharpening his focus, Kaelis confirmed what he saw—it was indeed the same train that had departed the station earlier.
His perception was keen, far surpassing human limits; even at a range of two and a half kilometers, every detail came into view as though it were mere meters away.
The train had stopped. The reason remained unclear, but what drew his attention even more were the large cylindrical structures nearby—metal tanks resembling water silos.
"Water tanks? Outside the walls? Where Kabane roam freely?" he mused, brow furrowing.
"Maybe they're for refueling… but why are there so many people out there?"
The sight was puzzling.
Groups of civilians were gathered near the tanks, seemingly unbothered by the lurking threat of monsters beyond the safety of the walls.
"Do they not realize a roaming Kabane might want a family member or two?" he muttered dryly, the corner of his mouth twitching upward.
Then, a thought crossed his mind—dark, yet purely scientific.
Perhaps one of them can help me test the sword.
With that, he tilted forward and accelerated.
BOOM.
A thunderous shockwave rippled through the air as Kaelis vanished into a blur, cutting through the wind toward the halted train.
•••
A few scouts perched on top of the train, binoculars raised, scanning the horizon for any signs of Kabane movement.
"Nothing on this side. Anything on your guys' end?" one called out.
"No. My side's clear."
"Clear over here as well…"
Silence followed. One of them frowned and turned toward the quietest among them.
"Hey, Glen—what about yours? Anything?"
"Huh? Oh, uh… I thought I saw something in the air for a second, but it's gone now."
"Something flying…?" the man repeated, squinting. He thought for a moment before dismissing it. "Must've been a bird. Keep scanning. We can't afford to miss anything."
"Yes, sir!" they chorused, returning to their posts.
Unknown to them, what Glen had seen wasn't a bird at all. It was Kaelis—streaking across the sky at a speed no bird could match.
By the time they settled back into their watch, he was already walking calmly through their encampment.
The area was surprisingly busy. People bustled around with nervous energy, stacking firewood and tending to half-built shelters.
A modest campfire burned in the center of an encircled space, protected on all sides by the parked train cars.
Kaelis tilted his head, watching them.
"They're starting a fire? Out here?" he murmured.
The faint crackle of burning wood filled the air. Smoke drifted upward—visible, and worse, scented.
"Are they trying to announce their location?" he muttered. "Kabane don't move in small groups. I've seen them… they travel in hundreds."
His eyes narrowed as he scanned the people bustling around.
'What are the leaders of this refugee camp thinking? Are they brain-dead? I've watched enough apocalypse scenarios to know how this story ends…'
"Hey, you—!"
The voice cut through his thoughts. Kaelis turned, brow raised.
"Hm? What is it?"
A familiar face approached him, a group following, eyes widening in recognition.
"I've seen you before, right?"
Kaelis blinked, then a small smile tugged at his lips.
"Oh—Ayame, right?"
Recognition dawned on her face as well, her guarded stance softening just slightly.
"You are that guy from the station…" she said, relief mingled with curiosity. "I didn't see you on the train at all. How come you're here now?"
"Nah, I wasn't with you guys," Kaelis replied casually, hands tucked behind his head. "Was still at the station not too long ago—just came here."
"Wha—huh?" Ayame blinked, completely thrown off by his answer.
He didn't seem the least bit interested in clarifying. Instead, his gaze drifted past her toward the crowd until he spotted another familiar face.
"Kurusu, my boy," he greeted, a faint grin tugging at his lips. "So you made it too. Nice."
"Nice to see you again, Kaelis," Kurusu replied politely, though the unease in his tone was obvious. "But I have the same question as Lady Ayame… How come we saw no signs of your boarding?"
"Same as I told her," Kaelis answered with a shrug. "Was at the station a while ago and just came over."
His tone was light, casual—too casual. To any normal person, it sounded ridiculous. Even Kurusu frowned slightly, wondering if he was joking.
One of the men standing nearby couldn't take it anymore. He stepped forward, scowling.
"You should answer Lady Ayame's question and stop playing around before we—"
He never finished.
The air grew heavy. A suffocating pressure swept over them like a sudden drop in gravity. Everyone froze.
The man who spoke felt his heart stop—an instant, vivid illusion of his head being sliced clean off. His hands flew to his neck in panic, expecting blood, expecting death.
Nothing.
But the phantom sensation lingered. Sweat streamed down his face as he stumbled back, trembling.
Kaelis tilted his head, voice still calm—almost playful.
"Oh, c'mon. Don't be like that. I answered honestly, y'know?"
The tension hung thick in the air. No one dared to move.
Even Ayame's fingers twitched near her weapon, though she wisely stayed in her hand.
Kaelis's gaze softened slightly as he turned toward her and Kurusu again.
"So," he said, as if nothing had happened, "why did you guys stop the train anyway?"
chapter 6 end.