The scroll Veyl gave him pulsed with something deeper than magic.
It wasn't just aura—it was history. Buried echoes and chains of intent. Kael sat with it unopened, his fingers brushing the seal made of melted mythril and ashroot ink. The moment he broke it, he knew, things would never return to how they were.
Lyra and Drayke were silent nearby. For once, Drayke wasn't cracking jokes or making loud observations. And Lyra—her gaze flickered between the scroll and Kael, anxiety shimmering like sunlight on glass.
He drew in a breath and broke the seal.
The parchment within unraveled itself midair, spinning slowly before it burst into ethereal flames, leaving only a single object hovering where it had been.
A blade.
But not a weapon of war. It was slender, blackened, and curved like a fang made from fossilized shadow. Red aura veins pulsed inside it, like the relic itself had a heartbeat.
[Relic Acquired: Fangsoul Edge]
— Adaptive-class
— Resonates with Aura Types: Ashen, Beast Flame, Abyssal
— Passive: Gains properties of slain foes
— Active: "Echo Rend" – Summons phantoms of defeated enemies to strike in tandem
— Sync Potential: High
Kael reached forward and took it.
The moment he gripped the hilt, it wasn't pain that coursed through him—it was memory. The death-cries of monsters. The last thoughts of warriors. His own fear, rage, and that quiet voice inside him that refused to die.
"Kael!" Lyra lunged forward as his aura surged violently.
But it wasn't out of control—it was syncing. Absorbing the relic, not resisting it.
And when it settled, Kael stood taller. His breath misted in the air even without cold.
He slid the blade across his palm. It didn't cut—it listened.
"I can use this," he murmured.
Drayke grinned. "Remind me never to bet against you again."
"Like you'd win anyway," Kael said.
Lyra stepped in. "That relic… It wasn't just made. It was forged during the first war with the Eternals. Who did it belong to?"
Veyl had only left a single note inside the scroll before it burned:
"Wielded by the Revenant who defied fate. May his edge sharpen yours."
Kael's thoughts spun—but before he could respond, a sudden tremor shook the mountainside.
Not an earthquake.
A pulse.
A scar opened in the air itself, not far from their camp. A rift—deep, dark, and singing with corrupted aura.
And from it spilled a creature.
Ten feet tall, cloaked in stitched hides of its victims, its body a mess of jagged teeth, no eyes, only tongues that whispered across dimensions.
A Dungeon Beast.
"Aura Borer," Lyra breathed. "That's an Apex-class. That's not supposed to be here."
Kael didn't speak.
He stepped forward.
The Fangsoul Edge shimmered in his hand.
The creature lunged.
And Kael vanished.
Not literally—but his aura blurred. A trick of the Ashen—the moment before he struck was always a question.
He appeared above the creature mid-leap, blade glowing red.
"Echo Rend."
Behind him, silhouettes of the Veilborn's dying echo formed. For a heartbeat, it looked like a nightmare had joined his side.
The slash came down.
And the Aura Borer didn't roar—it howled, its body split into four as Kael landed in a crouch, smoke rising from his shoulders.
"Did that thing just…" Drayke whispered.
"Get erased?" Lyra finished.
Kael stood slowly.
The Fangsoul Edge hummed. It had tasted the creature's aura—and stored it.
This was no normal weapon.
This was a key.
He turned to them.
"That Rift isn't natural. Someone—or something—forced it open."
Lyra pointed. "Look!"
More cracks in the sky. Small ones. Barely visible. Like glass waiting to shatter.
"Riftfall," Kael murmured.
"A what-now?" Drayke said.
"When aura becomes unstable in high-density zones, reality thins. It only happens near Eternal-affected regions."
Drayke cracked his knuckles. "Then we close 'em. One by one."
But Kael shook his head.
"We don't close them."
He looked at the largest rift in the center.
"We go through."
Meanwhile – Deep Within Noctheron Marsh
A woman clad in moon-colored robes stood before a dying Eternal Spawn. Her aura whispered of still water and venom.
"Fangsoul Edge has awakened," she said softly. "That boy walks too far for someone who was meant to die in the first breach."
A voice slithered from the shadows.
"You fear him?"
"Not yet," she replied. "But soon… the gods might."