Kael woke in silence.
The chamber's light had faded, but something still glowed faintly beneath his skin — not enough to see, but enough to feel. A low, thrumming vibration in his bones, as if the broken sword's mark was rewriting him from the inside.
Naya knelt nearby, watching.
She didn't speak at first. Just passed him a water flask and a look — one that said: I saw. I won't ask. But I won't forget.
Kael sat up slowly, still sore.
The sword hilt was gone.
Not taken — absorbed. It had vanished when the altar closed, the seal binding it to his soul. His palm still ached where the brand had flared.
"This doesn't change anything," he muttered.
"It changes everything," Naya said quietly.
---
They made it back just as the trial ended.
Their team was marked "eliminated" — officially, they hadn't participated in the last phase of the war trial at all.
But Kael noticed something strange:
No one cheered.
No one mocked them either.
Instead, students watched him like he was carrying fire under his cloak. Whispers slithered in corners. Even some of the instructors eyed him with a hint of caution.
Someone had felt what happened below.
---
Later that evening, as dusk fell over the academy's stone towers, Kael wandered alone — trying to breathe again.
He found himself outside the Hall of Records, where some students still lingered, bragging about their scores.
Then he heard his name.
"That lowborn again. I heard he triggered an ancient defense mechanism and collapsed part of the ruins."
"No. I heard the ruins responded to him. Like they recognized him. Creepy, right?"
"He's hiding something. Something dangerous."
Kael didn't flinch.
He just walked past them — silent.
But their voices followed him like shadows.
---
That night, Professor Lioren stood before the Headmaster in the Tower of Glyphs.
"He found the altar," Lioren said. "The sealed one. The blade was part of it. It's gone now."
The Headmaster frowned. "And the boy?"
Lioren hesitated.
"Still hiding what he is. But i think not for long."
---
Elsewhere, deep beneath the capital's central temple, an Oracle stirred from her trance. Her eyes had turned completely white.
"The sleeping blood awakens," she whispered. "The false gods shiver."
A nearby high priest dropped his staff.
"Impossible," he said. "The devourer bloodline was erased."
But the stars above had shifted.
And something ancient was watching again.
---
Meanwhile, Kael stood alone on the academy's western terrace, overlooking the jagged forests.
The wind was colder now. Wilder.
He closed his eyes.
He could feel it.
Not just his power awakening.
But something hunting him.