Though Kael and Selene lay together, only one of them truly slept.
Kael opened his eyes in silence. He hadn't slept at all.
Careful not to wake her, he slipped from the bed, moving quietly through the darkened halls until he reached the rooftop.
The sky was still deep with night, but a faint blue was gathering on the horizon—morning was near.
He stood there, arms crossed, the cold breeze brushing past him. His thoughts drifted back—back to his fight with Eiden.
That battle had left deeper scars than the wounds on his body. It hadn't just been a clash of strength… it had broken an illusion.
After defeating monsters, undead, generals—Kael had begun to believe the path ahead might always be that smooth.
That he would rise, challenge by challenge, like some fated hero in a story.
But reality had a crueler rhythm.
This wasn't a fantasy world. There were no rules that forced stronger enemies to wait, no final boss who politely sent underlings first.
If someone powerful wanted something from him—they would come.
Directly. Mercilessly.
And what then?
Kael looked out at the still-dark horizon, jaw tight.
How would he fight back? How would he survive?
There were no answers yet. Only the wind and the weight of the truth.
"You don't have a specific sword style, do you?"
The words echoed in Kael's mind—Eiden's voice, calm, almost pitying.
It had struck him harder than any blade.
Because it was true.
He didn't have a defined style.
No signature technique.
No path honed through blood and repetition.
He had survived on instinct, on a mixture of borrowed forms and raw effort—guided by a swordsmanship talent that was… just decent.
C-grade.
Better than most, yes.
But not exceptional.
Not the kind that turned a swordsman into a legend. Not the kind that would make him a prodigy like Eiden.
Eiden…
That man was born of a different mold. If he was a star, others like him would follow.
Brighter. Stronger.
And now, Eiden knew the truth.
He had seen it—the mark Kael carried, hidden no longer.
Godbreaker's Mark.
Kael's hands curled into fists at his sides, his chest hollow with doubt.
They would come for him now. Not generals. Not beasts.
But chosen heirs. Champions. Gods-in-the-making.
And what was he?
The wind howled gently across the rooftop.
Kael stayed still, gaze distant, burdened by the weight of what was coming.
"What are you thinking, Kael?" Yue's voice broke the stillness—clear and quiet, carried by the breeze.
Kael turned toward her, eyes distant.
"Nothing, I just…"
He didn't finish. The words trailed off into silence.
But Yue didn't look away.
"Why didn't you blame me?" she asked softly.
Kael blinked, confused. "Blame you? For what?"
She lowered her gaze.
"For the curse. Because of me, you have to bear it… and everything tied to it."
Kael gave a small laugh. "You're also bound to me, aren't you?"
Yue shook her head. "That's not it, Kael. Tell me the real reason."
He was quiet for a long time. The silence settled like dew between them.
Then Kael turned fully, his voice barely above a whisper.
"You really want the truth?"
Yue nodded, silent.
Kael exhaled slowly.
"The first time you bound with me… I already saw you as my ally, Yue. As my partner."
His eyes held hers.
"And as a partner… all your curses, and all your blessings—they're mine too. That's what it means, doesn't it? To walk together."
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Silence stretched between them.
Yue's eyes shimmered, glassy with unshed emotion.
Then, without another word, she leaned forward and hugged him—not a touch of flesh and bone, but a spirit's embrace, cool and weightless, like mist curling around his soul.
Kael stood still beneath the stars, letting her essence fold into him.
He smiled.
Soft at first.
Genuine.
But as Yue clung tighter, Kael's smile began to shift—subtly, then unmistakably.
The corners of his lips curled not with warmth, but with something darker.
A trace of triumph.
The faintest gleam of something demonic flickered in his gaze.
If someone had seen him at that moment—eyes glowing faintly in the gloom, features caught between humanity and something else—they would have frozen in fear.
It lasted only a breath.
Then, like mist before the dawn, the darkness vanished. His expression softened once more, as if it had never changed.
Kael gently patted Yue's head.
"Thank you," he whispered.
But inside, he thought:
Finally.
The night was still.
A soft wind drifted over the rooftop, stirring Yue's ethereal hair like a whisper from another world.
After calming down, Yue's voice broke the silence again—gentle, trembling slightly, but sincere.
"You're my first true friend, Kael. I'm… really happy to have you."
Kael looked at her—this spirit who had bound her fate to his, who had cursed him and yet comforted him.
A small smile tugged at his lips, soft and real. He gave her a silent nod, accepting her words like a quiet oath.
Then Yue hesitated.
There was a shift in the air—uncertainty, and something deeper beneath.
"Actually…" she said slowly, almost guiltily,
"I haven't told you everything," Yue said softly, her voice almost hesitant.
Kael turned toward her, the flicker of interest in his eyes deepening.
He waited.
"I'm the Sect Master… of the Divine Dream Pavilion."
Silence followed.
Heavy.
Hanging.
Yue glanced at him from the corner of her eye.
He must be overwhelmed, she thought. The spirit bound to him is a Sect Master—someone revered in the upper realms.
Surely now… he respects me more. Maybe even fears me a little.
But Kael only blinked.
His brow creased slightly—not in awe, but in confusion.
"…And what exactly is the Divine Dream Pavilion?"
Yue choked on air.
For a second, she forgot how to breathe.
She stared at him, wide-eyed, as if she hadn't just dropped the most important revelation of her life.
She wanted to strangle him.
This man… this man has no sense of gravitas!