The wind howled softly across the mouth of the cave, brushing past my coat like an old ghost brushing my skin.
I stepped back instinctively, eyes narrowing.
From the treetops, from the tall grass, from behind the mossy rocks—they appeared.
Figures in black and crimson cloaks. Dozens of them. Armed, but not hostile. Watching me as though I'd just walked out of legend.
And then came the man.
He emerged into the moonlight as if it were his to command.
Jet-black coat churning behind him. White streaks running through his hair. Eyes like shattered stars—bright, but broken.
"Hero Rhaizen." he growled, deep and rough like gravel beneath boots. "You finally arrived."
I didn't say anything.
I just gazed.
He regarded me harder, eyes flashing with feeling.
".No words?" He laughed. "You're just the way I pictured you. Enigmatic. Cold. Damn near invincible."
Still, I said nothing. Classic technique. Say less, hear more.
He grinned, cocking his head. "Oh, wait. I guess we've never actually met. My fault."
He made a dramatic, mock bow. "I'm Kael. Leader of the Obsidian Dreamers."
Damn. That's a cool name. Kudos for marketing.
Kael moved toward the building, gesturing with a sweep of his arm. "Let's discuss things inside. It's not safe out here. Too many ears. Too many ghosts."
I nodded. Subtly. Slow.
As we proceeded, I murmured in my mind:
Bingo. This trick never fails. Keep your mouth shut, let them do the filling.
We went inside the cave… and I blinked.
It looked like any ordinary crevice on the rocks outside. Dark, cold, plain. But in there?
It was a fortress.
Glowing blue veins of mana traced along the stone. Crystals floated midair, casting soft, shifting lights across etched walls. Secret doors. Runes glowing softly. It wasn't merely a hideout. It was history.
And the others?
Busy. Concentrated. Some were taking notes across maps. Others meditating close to arcane fire pits. And some just bickering over whether their previous plan was 'insane' or 'tactically spicy.'
"This is…" I muttered, eyes sweeping the chamber.
"Home," he said proudly.
One of the younger rebels came running to Kael, scroll in hand.
"Sir! The magic's done. We've hidden the northern ridge."
Kael smiled. "Excellent. If the Peace Council comes looking for us again, we're gone before they can even blink."
The rebel swung around to me, staring. "Is that. really him?"
Kael placed a hand on my shoulder. "The one and only. The Savior. The one who disappeared when we needed him most."
I kept my face still. Calm. Collected. A flicker of a smirk to keep up appearances.
"Come," Kael said. "We'll talk in the War Chamber."
The War Chamber?
Turns out, it was a room behind a stone illusion—opened by pressing a hidden rune.
Inside: glowing table. Holograms. Floating maps showing troop placements, Peace Council facilities, stasis zones.
"This world…" Kael muttered, tapping the map. "It was never meant to be like this."
I watched quietly.
Kael's voice dropped. "Rhaizen, you were the one who taught us that peace without freedom is just another kind of war."
Alright… that's something I'd probably say in one of those 999 lives.
Kael faced me once more, his expression serious now.
"When you vanished, they said you gave up. That you left the fight. But I never believed it."
I looked at him.
"You were right to wait," I said finally.
Kael's eyes widened—slightly. "So you recall?"
"No," I said icily. "But I recall enough to know. I don't like prisons."
Kael chuckled. "You haven't changed a thing."
I sneered inwardly.
He had no idea that I wasn't his Rhaizen.
And I wasn't going to disillusion him.