Kael did not return to the ravine.
Nor did he circle back toward the village.
Instead, he went north.
Deeper.
The forest changed the farther he traveled. Trees grew thicker, roots clawing across the ground like petrified serpents. The air smelled older here—less rot, more stone and moss. Fewer insects. Fewer birds.
More space.
Kael welcomed it.
His body still ached from the fight in the village. His ribs protested every breath, and his meridians throbbed faintly, as if reminding him that they were damaged things being forced to perform unnatural tasks.
But beneath the pain was something else.
Momentum.
He had crossed another invisible threshold.
Not in power.
In mindset.
The forest no longer felt like an enemy.
It felt like a proving ground.
By midday, Kael sensed them.
Not through sound or scent alone—though both were there—but through something subtler. A pressure against his awareness, like grit caught between teeth.
Intent.
Hostile. Directed. Human.
He slowed his steps.
The Eclipse Core pulsed once, quietly, confirming his suspicion.
People, he thought. Watching.
Kael altered his path deliberately, angling toward a narrow stretch of land where a rocky outcrop pressed close to a ravine. The terrain funneled movement. Limited angles.
If they followed—
They were predictable.
He stepped into the narrow passage and stopped.
Waited.
Moments passed.
Then footsteps.
Careful. Measured.
Not villagers.
Kael shifted his weight slightly, loosening his shoulders.
Three figures emerged from the trees behind him.
Men. Roughly dressed. Armed.
Bandits.
Their eyes lit up when they saw him alone.
"Well, look at this," one of them said, grinning. "Thought we smelled blood."
Another chuckled. "Skinny one, too. Easy pickings."
Kael turned slowly.
He kept his expression neutral—not fearful, not defiant.
"Turn around," he said calmly. "Walk away."
The men blinked.
Then laughed.
The one in front—a broad man with a scarred jaw—snorted. "You hear that? Kid thinks he's in a position to negotiate."
Kael's gaze flicked over them quickly.
Three opponents.
One sword. One spear. One knife.
No armor.
Confident.
Careless.
They hadn't seen the village.
They hadn't seen the boar fall.
They had only seen a thin boy walking alone in the forest.
Kael inhaled slowly.
This was different from beasts.
Beasts killed to eat.
These men killed to take.
To dominate.
To enjoy.
Something cold settled into his chest.
"Last chance," Kael said.
The scarred man stepped forward, drawing his sword. "I'll take your tongue first. Teach you manners."
Kael moved.
He did not charge.
He stepped back.
The spear-wielder lunged instinctively, trying to pin him against the ravine wall. Kael twisted aside, the spear scraping stone where his chest had been a heartbeat earlier.
The knife flashed.
Kael felt a line of fire slice across his forearm.
Blood spilled.
The Eclipse Core reacted instantly—cold pressure wrapping around the wound, slowing the flow, stabilizing.
Kael ignored the pain.
He focused.
On spacing.
On timing.
On intent.
The men spread out slightly, grins fading as they realized he wasn't panicking.
"Careful," the spear-wielder muttered. "He's slippery."
The scarred man snorted. "Doesn't matter."
He rushed forward.
Kael stepped in.
Not away.
In.
The sword whistled down toward his shoulder.
Kael raised his arm.
The blade bit into flesh.
Pain detonated.
Kael did not scream.
He grabbed the man's wrist with his uninjured hand and pulled, forcing the sword arm down and forward. At the same time, he drove his knee up into the man's groin.
Hard.
The man gasped, choking on his own breath.
Kael leaned close.
Their eyes met.
In that instant, the Eclipse Core flared.
Not violently.
Precisely.
Kael reached.
The sensation was unmistakable now.
Not like draining the wolf.
Not like the boar.
This was different.
This was a person.
Thoughts. Fear. Regret.
All of it brushed against Kael's awareness as life poured out of the man's body, rushing into the Eclipse Core in a cold, intoxicating flood.
The scarred man convulsed.
His strength vanished.
Kael twisted the sword in the embedded arm and shoved him backward.
The man collapsed, eyes wide, mouth opening and closing soundlessly.
Dead.
Silence fell.
For half a heartbeat.
Then panic.
"Kill him!" the knife-wielder screamed.
The spear thrust again—wild this time.
Kael ducked, rolled, came up with the fallen sword in his hand.
It felt heavy.
Wrong.
But serviceable.
The knife-wielder rushed him.
Kael slashed.
Clumsy.
The blade cut deep across the man's chest.
The man screamed and fell back, clutching the wound.
The spear-wielder froze.
Fear flooded his face.
Kael advanced.
Step by step.
Sword dripping blood.
The Eclipse Core hummed inside him, black and white spinning faster than before. Power surged—not enough to make him strong, but enough to make him inevitable.
"P-please," the man stammered, dropping the spear. "I'll leave—"
Kael stopped in front of him.
He looked down at the trembling figure.
This was the moment.
The one that defined paths.
In his previous life, he would have hesitated.
He would have rationalized.
He would have told himself that mercy was the right thing—that killing would change him.
Kael understood something now.
Killing always changed you.
The question was whether you let fear decide how.
The man lunged suddenly, desperation overriding reason.
Kael didn't think.
He acted.
The sword pierced the man's chest cleanly.
The Eclipse Core drank deeply.
The spear-wielder collapsed, lifeless.
The knife-wielder tried to crawl away.
Kael walked to him slowly.
The man sobbed. "I won't tell anyone—please—"
Kael raised the sword.
Paused.
He felt it then.
A tremor.
Not in his hand.
In his soul.
Not resistance.
Recognition.
This was his first human kill.
Not in defense.
Not as collateral.
A choice.
He brought the sword down.
The body went still.
Kael stood alone in the ravine, chest heaving, sword hanging loosely from his hand.
Blood pooled around his feet.
The forest was silent.
No birds.
No insects.
Nothing.
He waited for something.
Guilt.
Horror.
Revulsion.
It didn't come.
What came instead was… clarity.
The Eclipse Core stabilized, its rotation slowing, settling into a new equilibrium. The ember in his abdomen flared brighter than it ever had before, Qi surging briefly before being compressed and contained.
Kael gasped as warmth flooded his limbs.
Not healing.
Reinforcement.
His muscles felt denser. His grip stronger.
Qi Condensation—Stage One.
Barely.
But undeniable.
He looked down at his hands.
They were steady.
Kael laughed softly.
"So that's the line," he murmured. "Once crossed… there's no going back."
And he was fine with that.
He cleaned the sword, wiped it on the bandits' clothes, and discarded it.
Steel could be traced.
Blood could be smelled.
He took only what he needed—food, a crude cloak, a small pouch of coin.
Nothing sentimental.
Nothing excessive.
As he left the ravine, Kael felt it again.
That distant pressure.
Stronger now.
Sharper.
As if something far away had just noticed a change in the pattern of the world.
He looked up through the canopy.
"Too early," he said quietly. "I know."
The pressure receded—but did not vanish.
Kael moved on.
His steps were surer now.
He had killed.
And the world had not ended.
If anything—
It had opened.