The morning sun climbed higher, casting long shadows across the Lockwood estate. Two hours. That was all the time Kael had before Morgan Whitmore arrived with her kill squad.
He stood in the estate's training hall, a spacious room with reinforced walls and runic inscriptions designed to contain magical outbursts. Lyra knelt before him on a meditation cushion, her hands folded in her lap, her breathing slow and measured.
"Focus," Kael said, his voice cutting through the silence. "You said you can summon spirits. Show me."
Lyra's brow furrowed in concentration. A soft blue glow began to emanate from her chest, spreading outward through her veins like luminescent rivers. The air in the room grew heavy, charged with an otherworldly energy.
"I... I'm trying, Master," she whispered. "The barrier between worlds is thick today."
"Try harder."
She let out a shaky breath and closed her eyes. The blue glow intensified. In front of her, the air began to shimmer and distort, reality warping like heat rising from summer asphalt.
A shape coalesced. Translucent, roughly humanoid, with features that shifted like smoke. Its eyes glowed faint blue, and its form flickered between solidity and mist.
"A Spirit Wraith," Sylara's voice echoed in Kael's mind, the ancient vampire observing through their mental link. She had been quiet since the dungeon, recovering from the partial unsealing. "Impressive for a novice summoner. The girl has genuine talent."
SYSTEM NOTIFICATION
Ability Analysis: Spirit Affinity (Grade A)
Current Proficiency: Novice (Level 1)
Capabilities:
Spirit Summoning: Can call forth spirits from the Spirit WorldSpirit Bond: Can form pacts with cooperative spirits
Spirit Sense: Can detect spiritual entities within 50 meters
Limitations:
Summoning duration: 5 minutes per spirit
Only one spirit at current levelRequires meditation to recharge between summons
The spirit hovered silently, its hollow eyes fixed on Kael. There was no hostility in its gaze, only a distant, alien curiosity.
"What can it do?" Kael asked, circling the entity.
Lyra's face was pale from the effort, sweat beading on her forehead. "It's... it's a scouting spirit, Master. It can phase through walls. Detect living things. See in absolute darkness." She paused, swallowing hard. "And it can touch things on the spirit plane. Ghosts. Wraiths. Other summons."
"Combat capabilities?"
"It's combat capability is minimal. It can distract. Harass. But against a trained fighter..." She shook her head. "It would dissipate after one or two hits."
Kael studied the spirit for a long moment.
"How long until you can summon again?"
"Maybe... thirty minutes? An hour?" Lyra swayed slightly. "It takes a lot of mana. My reserves are almost empty."
Kael placed a hand on her shoulder. Through their bond, he could feel her exhaustion—the spiritual equivalent of running a marathon. He channeled a small amount of his own mana into her, using the [Soul Resonance] technique to stabilize her core.
"Rest. Eat something with high calories. When the fighting starts, I'll need you to stay out of the way."
Lyra's eyes widened with alarm. "But Master, I want to help! I can—"
"You can die," Kael cut her off coldly. "The people coming are B-Ranks. Minimum Level 80. Professional killers with combat classes and years of experience." He gripped her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes. "Your value is in your spirit abilities. If I need reconnaissance, I'll call you. Otherwise, you stay hidden. Understood?"
Her lower lip trembled. "Yes, Master."
"Good girl." He released her. "Now go. Silas and I have preparations to make."
Lyra hurried out, her footsteps fading down the corridor.
Kael stood alone in the training hall, his mind already calculating. Five B-Ranks. Maybe more. The mana difference alone was staggering. A B-Rank had condensed their core, survived the Lightning Tribulation, and emerged with a mana pool five to ten times larger than a C-Rank's.
"You're confident," Sylara observed. "But you understand the risks."
"I always understand the risks."
"Do you? The gap between C and B isn't just numbers. It's quality. A B-Rank's mana is denser, more refined. Their techniques hit harder, last longer, recover faster. And Morgan Whitmore wouldn't send fodder. She'll send elites."
Kael cracked his neck, rolling his shoulders. "Then I'll just have to be smarter than them."
One Hour Later
The estate's main hall had been transformed. Furniture pushed against the walls. Rugs rolled away to expose the stone floor beneath. The windows remained uncovered, sunlight streaming in freely.
Silas stood beside Kael at the center of the room. She'd changed into combat attire—a sleek black bodysuit with reinforced plating at vital points, her hair pulled back in a tight bun. A far cry from the elegant business dresses she usually wore.
"Your mana?" Kael asked without looking at her.
"Forty percent," Silas replied. "Maybe forty-five after the rest. Enough for eight to ten minutes of sustained combat. Or two major curses."
"Save the curses for the most dangerous target. I want you on support—disruption, debilitation. Don't engage directly unless you have to."
"I know my role," she said, a hint of irritation in her voice. "I've been fighting since before you were born."
Kael turned to face her. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes held a cold intensity. "Then you know that one mistake today means death. For both of us."
Silas met his gaze. The fear was still there, buried deep, but something else had joined it. Resolve. Acceptance.
"I won't fail you, Master."
Before Kael could respond, a chime rang through the estate.
VEHICLE APPROACHING. MAIN GATE. NUMBER OF CONTACTS: EIGHT.
"Showtime," Kael muttered.
Kael watched from the second-floor balcony as the convoy rolled through the estate gates. Three black SUVs, their windows tinted dark, their frames reinforced with mana-conductive alloys. They came to a stop in the circular driveway, engines humming as they idled.
His [Hawk Eye] ability activated, zooming in on the passengers as they emerged.
First vehicle: Two men. Armed with military-grade rifles. Their movements were practiced, professional. But their mana signatures were weak. Level 45-50. C-Ranks. Cannon fodder.
Second vehicle: Three figures. These were different. Their mana pressed against Kael's senses like physical weight.
SYSTEM ANALYSIS
Target 1: Brick
Level: 98 (B-Rank Early)
Class: [Juggernaut]
Abilities: Super Strength, Impact Absorption, Steel Skin
Threat Level: HIGH
Target 2: Viper
Level: 102 (B-Rank Early)
Class: [Poison Master]
Abilities: Toxin Generation, Acid Spray, Poison Immunity
Threat Level: HIGH
Target 3: Gale
Level: 87 (B-Rank)
Class: [Wind Walker]
Abilities: Super Speed, Air Manipulation, Friction Reduction
Threat Level: MODERATE
The third vehicle's rear door opened.
Morgan Whitmore stepped out.
She was older than Kael remembered—or perhaps his memories were simply fragmented. Her black hair was styled in a sharp bob, her face immaculately made up despite the combat situation. She wore a designer pantsuit, impractical for fighting but projecting the image of someone who never needed to fight herself.
SYSTEM ANALYSIS
Target: Morgan Whitmore
Level: 167 (A-Rank)
Class: [Biotech Sovereign]
Abilities: Biological Manipulation (Self), Regeneration, Enhanced Intelligence
Threat Level: EXTREME
Two more B-Ranks emerged from the third vehicle, flanking Morgan. A woman with flames dancing around her fingertips, and a man whose skin had a faint, metallic sheen.
Target 4: Cinder
Level: 91 (B-Rank)
Class: [Pyromancer]
Threat Level: HIGH
Target 5: Iron
Level: 94 (B-Rank)
Class: [Metalmancer]
Threat Level: HIGH
Five B-Ranks. Two C-Ranks. And Morgan herself.
Kael's jaw tightened. The odds were worse than he'd hoped.
"Sylara," he thought. "Analysis."
"Five B-Ranks is manageable if you fight smart. Pick them off one by one. Use the environment. But Morgan is the real problem. A-Rank regeneration means you need to destroy her core completely—decapitation won't work if she can regrow her head."
"And if I can't reach her core?"
"Then you run. Live to fight another day."
Kael descended the main staircase, his footsteps echoing in the silent hall. Silas followed three paces behind, her presence a cold weight at his back.
Morgan stood at the entrance, flanked by her mercenaries. Her eyes scanned the hall with casual disdain, cataloging exits, defensive positions, potential threats.
"Silas, darling," she called out, her voice carrying false warmth. "I must say, your security is lacking. The gate guards barely put up a fight."
"They were instructed to let you pass," Silas replied. "No point in unnecessary bloodshed."
"Pragmatic." Morgan's gaze landed on Kael, who had stopped at the bottom of the stairs. "And this must be the specimen."
She approached slowly, her heels clicking on the stone floor. Her eyes raked over his body—the red scales on his arms, his heterochromatic eyes, the predatory stillness of his posture.
"Interesting," she murmured. "You've changed since the facility, Subject 704."
"I've grown."
Morgan laughed. It was a cold sound, devoid of genuine amusement. "Clearly. The boy I experimented on was a broken thing. Crying. Begging." She reached out, trailing a finger along his jaw. "Licking my feet like a dog."
Her eyes glittered with cruel satisfaction.
"This one has... spirit. But that can be broken. Everything can be broken."
She turned to Silas. "I'm impressed. Truly. I didn't think you had it in you to capture something this valuable."
"I have my reasons," Silas said.
"Well, whatever they are, I'm satisfied." Morgan snapped her fingers. "Restrain him. Gently—we don't want to damage the merchandise."
The five B-Rank mercenaries stepped forward.
Kael didn't wait.
Before the mercenaries could advance three steps, he moved.
[SWIFT STEP: BLINK]
The world shifted. Kael vanished from his position and reappeared directly in front of Brick—the Juggernaut. The big man barely had time to widen his eyes before Kael's fist, wreathed in crackling lightning, slammed into his gut.
[LIGHTNING FIST]
BOOM!
The impact sent a shockwave through the hall. Brick's [Steel Skin] activated instinctively, but the combination of physical force and electrical discharge was enough to launch him backward. He crashed through a decorative pillar, stone fragments scattering.
"HE'S ACTIVE!" Gale screamed. "TAKE HIM DOWN!"
The Wind Walker's body blurred with speed. He closed the distance in an instant, his hands surrounded by cutting winds.
[AIR SLASH]
Kael twisted, raising his arm. The wind blade sliced across his forearm, cutting deep. Blood sprayed across the marble floor.
"Tch." He gritted his teeth. [REGENERATION] kicked in, the wound already beginning to close.
"You're fast," Gale said, circling him. "But you can't beat pure speed."
The mercenary moved again, appearing behind Kael.
[CEILING WALK]
Kael's feet left the ground. He ran up the wall, defying gravity, then flipped backward, landing behind Gale.
[LIGHTNING BOLT]
A crackling spear of electricity shot from Kael's palm, catching the Wind Walker in the back. Gale screamed, his muscles seizing.
Before he could recover, Kael grabbed his head.
[DEVOUR]
The process was quick. Gale's body shriveled, his essence flowing into Kael.
SYSTEM NOTIFICATION
Devour Successful.
Acquired Abilities:
Air Manipulation (Grade C), Friction Reduction (Grade D)
Experience Gained: 2,400 XP.
"One down," Kael growled.
He turned to face the remaining four B-Ranks.
They had regrouped, forming a semi-circle around him. Brick had recovered, pulling himself from the rubble, his skin now fully metallic. Viper's hands dripped with glowing green poison. Cinder's flames cast dancing shadows across the walls. Iron had drawn a sword of gleaming steel.
"Take him together," Brick snarled. "No more games."
The four B-Ranks attacked as one.
Kael smiled.
Finally.