Chapter 5
Into the Forest
The Ironwood Gate opened at dawn.
Not with ceremony but with precision.
Chains rattled as reinforced doors were pulled aside, revealing the broad stone road that led away from the Valerius estate and toward the distant silhouette of forested hills. Mist clung to the ground like a living thing, swallowing the lower half of trees and wagons alike.
Kael stood at the center of the formation.
Not at the front.
Not hidden in the rear.
Exactly where a noble heir should stand.
He wore simple training armor light leather reinforced at joints, no ornamentation, no insignia beyond the Valerius crest pressed subtly into the chest plate.
Practical.
Purposeful.
Around him stood twelve men.
Veterans.
All soul masters. None below Rank 40. None above Rank 79.
That was deliberate.
No Spirit Douluo escort.
No overwhelming protection.
This was a hunt, not a parade.
Captain Jorvan Holt stepped forward, cloak shifting as soul power rolled faintly beneath his skin.
"Formation check," Jorvan called.
"Ready."
"Clear."
"Stable."
Responses came crisply.
Jorvan turned to Kael.
"You understand the rules?"
"Yes," Kael said.
"No heroics."
"Yes."
"No solo decisions."
"Yes."
"No martial soul release unless ordered."
Kael met his eyes. "Understood."
Jorvan held his gaze for a second longer than necessary.
Then nodded.
"Move out."
The column advanced.
The forest announced itself before it was seen.
The air grew thicker. Damp. Heavy with decay and life intertwined. Sounds multiplied chirps, rustles, distant howls layered atop one another in a chaotic symphony.
Kael observed everything.
Humidity increase. Visibility reduction. Sound distortion.
He catalogued it all mentally.
This was not fear.
This was analysis.
A soldier to his right muttered, "First time in a soul beast forest always feels like it's watching you."
Kael replied calmly, "It is."
The soldier blinked then laughed under his breath.
"Kid's got nerves."
Kael didn't correct him.
He didn't feel brave.
He felt alert.
They stopped near a natural clearing marked by broken trees and churned earth.
Jorvan raised a fist.
Everyone froze.
A pressure rolled through the air.
Not hostile.
But heavy.
Kael felt it immediately.
His breath slowed.
His soul power responded instinctively tightening, compacting, pulling inward.
That's… killing intent, he realized.
Then it vanished.
A figure stepped from between the trees.
Tall.
Broad.
Armor darkened with old scars.
Duke Alaric Valerius.
The air shifted the moment he arrived.
Not violently.
Decisively.
Several soldiers straightened unconsciously.
Kael felt it like standing near a mountain.
Level 87, he thought calmly. Spirit Douluo.
Alaric's gaze swept the group then landed on Kael.
"You didn't flinch," the Duke said.
"I adjusted," Kael replied.
Alaric's lips twitched slightly.
"Good."
He turned to Jorvan.
"I'll observe," Alaric said. "Intervene only if necessary."
Jorvan bowed. "Understood, my lord."
Alaric stepped back yet somehow the pressure remained.
That's control, Kael thought. Not raw force.
They went deeper.
Tracks appeared.
Hoof marks.
Heavy.
Wide spacing.
Jorvan crouched, fingers brushing the ground.
"Grayhorn Elk," he murmured. "Single. Likely male."
"Estimated age?" Kael asked.
Jorvan glanced up, surprised but answered.
"Two hundred eighty. Maybe three hundred."
Kael nodded.
Within margin.
He exhaled slowly.
This wasn't excitement.
It was focus.
They followed.
Minutes stretched.
Then
A low bellow shook the trees.
The ground trembled.
The Grayhorn Elk emerged from the mist like a living battering ram.
Massive.
Antlers like polished stone, spiraling forward.
Muscles coiled beneath thick hide.
Its eyes locked onto the group.
And then
It charged.
"Shields!" Jorvan roared.
Soul rings flared.
Kael didn't move.
He watched.
The Elk slammed into the front line.
Earth exploded.
Steel rang.
Kael felt the shockwave ripple through his bones.
His heart rate spiked but his mind stayed cold.
Front impact force exceeds average. Lower-body reinforcement confirmed.
The Elk reared, antlers sweeping.
A soldier was thrown back, rolling hard.
"Contain, don't kill!" Jorvan shouted.
Kael clenched his fists.
This is it.
The moment before choice.
He felt his martial soul stir responding not to danger, but to order.
Not yet.
The Elk bellowed again, hooves cracking stone.
Then
Alaric stepped forward.
He didn't release a ring.
Didn't raise a hand.
He simply looked at the beast.
The pressure crashed down.
The Grayhorn Elk froze mid-step.
Instinct screamed.
Predator awareness overwhelmed it.
It staggered knees buckling.
Jorvan seized the moment.
"Now!"
Chains flew.
Formation locked.
The beast fell.
Breathing heavy.
Alive.
Silenced.
Kael stared.
That wasn't suppression, he realized. That was authority.
Later, as the camp was secured and preparations for absorption began, Kael sat beside the fire, notebook open on his knees.
He wrote quickly.
Observation 1: Soul beasts respond to intent hierarchy.
Observation 2: Killing intent is inefficient. Control yields better outcomes.
Hypothesis: Spirit pressure can substitute force at higher levels.
"Researching already?"
Kael looked up.
His father stood beside him.
"Yes."
Alaric nodded. "Good."
He sat.
"Remember this moment," the Duke said. "Power is not dominance. It's leverage."
Kael met his gaze.
"I want to understand soul power itself," Kael said quietly. "Not just use it."
Alaric studied him.
"You'll need allies for that," he said. "And enemies."
Kael nodded.
"I know."
In the distance, the Grayhorn Elk exhaled slowly.
Its soul ring began to form.
Golden-yellow.
Steady.
Compatible.
Kael closed his notebook.
Tomorrow
He would step forward.