The scent of charred pine reached Kaiden before the smoke did. He stopped at the edge of the ridge, the bundle of medicinal herbs in his hand suddenly feeling like a lead weight. Down in the valley, Oakhaven was no longer a village. It was a collection of orange flickers and rising black plumes that stained the afternoon sky.
Kaiden dropped the herbs. He did not run immediately. Instead, he stood perfectly still for three seconds, his grey eyes narrowing as he scanned the perimeter of the settlement. His mind, a part of him he had tried to bury seven years ago, began to categorize the chaos. He saw the systematic placement of the fires. He saw the way the horses were gathered near the western gate. This was not a random raid by starving bandits. This was a professional erasure.
He moved then. He didn't run like a panicked villager; he moved with a low, predatory grace that ignored the jagged rocks and thorny brush. His heart hammered against his ribs, not with fear, but with a cold, rising pressure.
Elena. Aria.
The names repeated in his head like a drumbeat. He reached the first line of houses. Old Man Miller lay across his own threshold, his Spirit Core still faintly glowing a dull brown before it flickered out forever. He had been a Forged-rank warrior once, but he hadn't even managed to draw his blade. A single, precise puncture through the throat had ended him.
Kaiden stepped over the body and drew the small, rusted wood-axe from his belt. It was a pathetic tool compared to the Soul Blades he used to carry, but it would have to do.
A shadow moved to his left. A man in dark navy leather armor stepped out from behind a burning hayloft. He wore a silver visor and held a crossbow leveled at Kaiden's chest. The man didn't hesitate. He pulled the trigger.
The bolt hissed through the air, aimed directly for Kaiden's heart.
Kaiden didn't dodge. He breathed out, a sharp, rhythmic sound that rattled in his throat.
Void Breath.
For a fraction of a second, the space six inches in front of Kaiden's chest became a vacuum. The bolt didn't hit a shield or a wall; it simply ceased to have momentum. It dropped to the dirt as if it had never been fired.
The mercenary stared. He began to reach for a whistle at his neck, but Kaiden was already there. The wood-axe buried itself in the man's collarbone with a sickening crunch. Kaiden didn't wait for him to fall. He grabbed the man's chin and twisted hard, ending the struggle before it began.
Kaiden took the man's short sword. It was standard military grade, well-balanced but soul-less. It lacked the hum of a true Soul Blade, but it felt better than the axe. He moved toward his own cottage at the far end of the village, near the old well.
The closer he got, the more bodies he saw. These were people he had shared bread with for years. The blacksmith who fixed his plow. The baker who gave Aria extra sweets. They were all gone, cut down with a cold efficiency that made Kaiden's blood turn to ice.
He reached the clearing. His cottage was not burning yet, but the front door was shattered. The flowers Elena had planted—the white lilies she loved so much—were crushed under heavy boot prints.
Kaiden entered the house. The smell of Elena's lavender oil was being overwhelmed by the stench of metallic blood.
Kaiden said, "Elena? Aria?"
His voice was low, barely a whisper, yet it filled the silent room. He found the kitchen empty. The table was overturned, a bowl of half-peeled potatoes scattered across the floor. In the corner, Aria's small wooden doll lay face down in a pool of spilled milk.
He checked the bedroom. The wardrobe had been torn open. Clothes were strewn everywhere. But there were no bodies.
A small spark of hope struggled to live in his chest, but it was quickly strangled by the sight of a struggle. There were deep gouges in the wooden floor, the kind made by someone being dragged.
Kaiden stepped back out into the yard. He looked at the ground. The boot prints were clear. They led toward the center of the village, where a group of men stood near the well. In the center of the group stood a man who looked entirely out of place in a burning village. He wore a tailored navy suit and circular glasses that reflected the flames.
Kaiden recognized the insignia on the man's lapel: a divided circle. The mark of the Seven-Three Division.
Kaiden didn't hide. He walked into the open, the short sword hanging loosely at his side. Five mercenaries immediately turned, their hands moving to their hilts. The man in the suit, Herald Voss, looked up from a small ledger he was holding.
Voss said, "You must be the husband. We were beginning to think you'd died in the woods. That would have been a shame. It would have made the collection incomplete."
Kaiden's grip tightened on the sword. He could see his wife and daughter now. They were bound and gagged, thrown into the back of a reinforced transport wagon twenty yards behind Voss. Aria's eyes were wide and wet with tears. Elena was struggling against her ropes, her face bruised but her gaze fixed on Kaiden with a desperate warning.
Kaiden said, "Let them go."
Voss smiled, a thin, clinical movement of the lips. He adjusted his glasses.
Voss said, "I'm afraid I can't do that. You see, Kaiden Valcrest—if that is indeed your name—you have something that belongs to my employer. Or rather, you are living in a place where something very old was hidden. We've spent three hours tearing this dump apart. We haven't found it yet."
Kaiden said, "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm a woodcutter."
Voss sighed and nodded to one of his men. The mercenary stepped toward the wagon and pressed a dagger against Aria's throat. The girl let out a muffled scream behind the gag.
Voss said, "Let's stop the theater. I know about the Silent Shadow. I know you retired. I even know why. But I don't care about your past. I care about the Ring of Seven Kings. My information says it was brought to this village eight years ago. If it isn't in your house, it's in your head. Either way, you're coming with us."
Kaiden felt the Void Breath cooldown reset. The pressure in his lungs eased. He looked at his daughter. He looked at the blade at her neck. The coldness inside him finally broke, replaced by a white-hot clarity.
Kaiden said, "You made a mistake coming here."
Voss raised an eyebrow.
Voss said, "Is that so? You are one man, armed with a stolen scrap of steel. I have a dozen Adept-rank soldiers and my own Core. Kill him. Keep the woman and the child. We'll find the ring in the ashes."
Four mercenaries lunged at once. They were fast, coordinated. Two went high, two went low.
Kaiden didn't wait. He stepped into the first strike, parrying a spear with a flick of his wrist. He used the momentum to drive his elbow into the man's throat. As the second man swung a mace, Kaiden used Void Breath.
The mace didn't just stop; it felt as if it hit an infinite void. The mercenary stumbled forward, his balance ruined by the sudden loss of resistance. Kaiden spun and drove his short sword through the man's back.
Blood sprayed across the dirt. Kaiden didn't stop. He was a blur of motion, a ghost in the smoke. He wasn't fighting like a villager. He was moving with the lethal precision that had once ended wars. He cut through the third man's hamstrings and punched the fourth in the temple with a force that shattered bone.
In six seconds, four men were on the ground.
Voss didn't look worried. He looked intrigued. He closed his ledger and tucked it into his pocket.
Voss said, "Impressive. Your Core is truly unique. To nullify energy and matter so cleanly... it must be exhausting."
Voss raised his hand. A faint blue light began to hum around his fingers.
Voss said, "But I told you. I deal in ratios. Everything is a division."
Voss snapped his fingers. A wave of distorted air slammed into Kaiden. Kaiden tried to use Void Breath again, but the cooldown hadn't finished. The force hit him like a battering ram, throwing him backward through the air. He crashed into the stone lip of the village well, his ribs screaming in protest.
He tried to stand, but his vision swam. Voss was walking toward him, his movements slow and deliberate.
Voss said, "You are 70% talent and 30% rust. I will take that 30% and expand it."
Voss raised his hand again, but a sudden explosion of fire from the western gate distracted him. A group of villagers, led by the blacksmith, had gathered for a final, desperate charge. They were screaming, wielding pitchforks and torches.
Voss looked annoyed.
Voss said, "Finish this. Burn the rest. Get the wagon moving. I don't want to be here when the provincial guards arrive."
A mercenary kicked Kaiden in the face. Darkness flared in Kaiden's eyes. He felt himself being dragged toward the burning remains of a nearby shed. He heard the wagon's wheels begin to creak. He heard Aria's muffled cries fading as the transport moved away.
He tried to crawl, but his limbs wouldn't obey. He was shoved into the shed, and the door was barred from the outside. A moment later, he heard the crackle of fire climbing the walls.
Kaiden lay in the dirt, the heat rising around him. He had failed. He had spent seven years trying to be a man, only to lose everything because he wasn't enough of a monster.
His hand brushed against something in the dirt.
He was in the ruins of the village elder's storehouse, or perhaps it was just a hole in the ground he'd been thrown into. His fingers closed around a cold, hard object. It was a ring. It felt impossibly heavy, as if it were made of lead and star-matter. It was black, carved with symbols that seemed to writhe in the firelight.
The heat was becoming unbearable. The roof of the shed groaned, ready to collapse.
A voice spoke. It didn't come from the room. It came from inside Kaiden's skull. It was a voice like grinding stones and roaring lions. It was deep, arrogant, and ancient.
The voice said, "So. This is the one? A broken shadow dying in a cage of wood?"
Kaiden coughed, blood flecking his lips.
Kaiden thought, Who is that?
The voice laughed. It was a sound of pure gold and fire.
The voice said, "I am Solaris. I am the sun that does not set. I am the king of the first throne. And you, little shadow, are pathetic. Do you want to die here? Do you want to let that small-minded accountant walk away with your blood and your soul?"
Kaiden's fingers tightened around the ring. The metal began to glow a dull, angry red.
Kaiden thought, No.
Solaris said, "Then give me something. A king does not grant favors for free. Give me your pride. Give me your silence. Put the ring on, and I will show you what absolute force looks like."
The roof gave way. A flaming beam fell toward Kaiden's head.
Kaiden didn't think. He slid the black ring onto his right ring finger.
The world stopped.
The fire didn't go out, but it froze in mid-air. The smoke hung like black marble. Kaiden felt a surge of heat that made the burning shed feel like a winter breeze. His Spirit Core, the Void Breath, didn't just recharge—it expanded. It felt as if a sun had been shoved into his chest.
The first seal on the ring cracked. A visible line of gold light appeared on the black metal.
Solaris roared, "Finally! I was starting to think I'd spend eternity in the dark. Now, Stand up, Kaiden Valcrest. A king is watching. Try not to bore me."
Kaiden stood. He didn't feel the pain in his ribs anymore. He didn't feel the rust in his joints. He kicked the barred door.
The door didn't just open. It disintegrated into splinters.
Kaiden walked out of the burning shed. The mercenaries who were busy lighting the next house stopped and stared. They saw a man covered in ash and blood, his grey eyes now glowing with a faint, dangerous gold light.
The ring pulsed on his finger.
Kaiden looked toward the road leading out of the village. The wagon was a hundred yards away, guarded by Voss and a dozen men.
Kaiden said, "I'm coming for you."
He didn't say it to the mercenaries in front of him. He said it to the world.
He took a step forward, and the ground beneath his boot cracked. The hunt had begun. He was no longer just a father, and he was no longer the Silent Shadow. He was the wielder of the Seven Kings, and Aetheria was about to learn the cost of waking the dead.