The battlefield reeked of iron and smoke.
Crows circled overhead, their cries mingling with the distant sobs of villagers collecting their dead. Blood seeped into the earth, thick and dark, as though the ground itself refused to drink any more.
Kael sat alone against the broken palisade, the rusted cleaver still in his grip. His hands trembled—not from fear, but from the aftershock of too many deaths. His skin was unbroken, his body whole, yet he remembered every cut, every spear through his gut, every bone shattered.
He remembered dying.
And worse—he remembered watching himself die.
The System whispered, cold and insidious.
[Death Count: 12]
[Attributes Enhanced.]
[Soul Strain: 15%]
"Each death makes you stronger. Each death brings you closer."
Closer to what? Kael didn't dare ask.
---
Serenya stood a few paces away, her face unreadable as she cleaned her blades. The villagers avoided her as much as they avoided him, casting fearful glances before hurrying past. Their whispers carried on the wind.
"Demon…"
"He rose again…"
"No man should laugh while dying…"
Kael's chest tightened. He hadn't meant to laugh. It had slipped out, unbidden, a mad joy that came with the surge of power after death. And now, the memory of it made bile rise in his throat.
Was he losing himself?
---
"Drink this."
Eldran's shadow fell across him. The old mage held out a clay flask, his weathered eyes calm but sharp.
Kael hesitated before taking it. The liquid burned bitter on his tongue, but warmth spread through his chest, easing the tremor in his hands.
"It will steady you," Eldran said. His gaze lingered on the faint black veins creeping up Kael's neck, marks only visible when the light struck just so. "Though it will not cure you."
Kael set the flask aside, jaw tightening. "Cure me of what?"
The old mage lowered himself to sit across from him, robes stained with dirt and ash. "Do you know why the villagers fear you?"
"Because I don't stay dead."
"Because what returns may not be entirely you."
Kael's breath caught. His mind flashed back to the moment of laughter, to the hunger in his chest when he struck the goblin leader. For a heartbeat, he had wanted to kill not for survival, but for the thrill of it.
He forced the thought away. "I'm still me."
Eldran studied him in silence, then said softly, "For now."
---
That night, Kael dreamed.
He stood in the battlefield again, but the corpses were not goblins—they were all him. Twelve bodies, each marked with the wounds he remembered: one with a shattered skull, another with a sword through the chest, another with a throat torn out.
Their eyes opened.
And they spoke with his voice.
"You let us die."
"You laughed while we bled."
"You are not Kael—you are what is left of us."
Kael stumbled back, clutching his head. "No… I had no choice. I had to fight!"
The corpses rose, shambling closer, their voices merging into a single, hollow whisper.
"You think you live… but you are only the sum of our deaths."
The world warped, shadows bleeding into the air. Chains erupted from the ground, coiling around his arms and throat. The System's voice echoed like thunder.
[Warning: Soul Strain 20%]
[Stability compromised.]
Kael screamed—
—and woke, gasping for air, sweat soaking his clothes.
---
The fire had burned low. Serenya sat across the flames, her bow beside her, eyes narrowed. She had been watching him.
"You were thrashing," she said flatly.
Kael rubbed his face with shaking hands. "A nightmare."
"Not just a nightmare." Her tone was sharp, suspicious. "Something follows you. I saw it in the fight. Every time you rose, something dark stirred around you. The others saw it too."
Kael clenched his fists. "And what do you see?"
For a long moment, Serenya was silent. Then she said, "A man standing on the edge of a cliff. And he doesn't even know the wind is blowing."
Her words cut deeper than any blade.
---
Morning came harsh and gray. The villagers prepared to burn their dead, but none came near Kael. Children were pulled behind mothers, men turned their backs. Even when he tried to help gather the bodies, they recoiled as if he carried plague.
Only Eldran met his gaze without fear. Serenya remained by his side, but whether it was duty or curiosity, Kael couldn't tell.
When the pyres were lit, smoke curling into the sky, Kael felt the weight of every stare pressing down on him. They did not see a savior. They saw a curse.
And in his chest, the System pulsed, hungry and alive.
[Quest Complete: Defend the Village Gate]
Reward: ???]
Light flared before his eyes, too bright, too sharp. When it faded, something remained—an orb of black crystal hovering in the air, pulsing like a heart. Only Kael seemed to notice it.
He reached out, hand trembling, and the crystal dissolved into his palm.
The whispers returned, louder than ever.
"We are not done. Not yet."
---
Kael staggered back, heart racing. Eldran's eyes narrowed. Serenya's hand went to her blade.
"What happened?" she demanded.
Kael swallowed hard, his throat dry. He didn't know what to tell them. He didn't know what he had just accepted into himself.
But deep inside, he felt the truth. The deaths had only been the beginning.
Something far greater—and far darker—was awakening.
---