Hello, last chapter today will be updated, in the near future it'll be hard to upload... :(

  After the Battle – The Medium Shop Ruins, Salvation Kingdom

  The almost noon air was heavy with the scent of scorched wood, lingering mana, and the faint, bitter trace of otherworldly corruption. What had once been a humble medium’s shop now stood fractured and half-collapsed—its door shattered, walls cracked, and pieces of furniture strewn about like the aftermath of a storm.

  A faint golden light filtered through broken slats in the roof. Dust floated in the air like drifting ash.

  At the heart of the ruin sat Ren Wei, slumped in a wooden chair that creaked under his weight. A blood-stained bandage wrapped around his side, freshly applied with great care by Quin moments earlier. His brows furrowed slightly with pain, but his breath remained steady.

  Just before, Kael, Quirl, and Quin had made their quiet exit—leaving behind no names, no titles, only a promise and a direction.

  “We’ll meet again. The inn infront of all the stalls near main entrance… we'll wait there,I'll give explaination there,” Kael had said, his voice calm but edged with urgency.

  And then, they disappeared into the waking city, their silhouettes vanishing like whispers on the stone road.

  Now, footsteps approached from outside—firm and deliberate.

  Two royal knights entered first, their armor gleaming despite the soot and shadow. Behind them came a healer, wrapped in a white mantle embroidered with golden thread. His eyes widened at the sight of the ruined shop, but his focus locked instantly onto the blood-stained bandage wrapped around Ren Wei’s waist.

  “Oh gods—he’s still bleeding,” the healer muttered, rushing forward. “Lie back. Quickly!”

  Ren Wei tried to push himself to his feet, aided by the kindly innkeeper who had stayed behind. “I’m fine—”

  “You’re not fine,” the healer snapped, already pulling a glowing vial from his satchel and placing a palm over the wound. A soft hum rose in the air as magic flared briefly. The blood stopped. The torn flesh knit itself back together. Color slowly returned to Ren Wei’s lips.

  “Hmm…” The healer stepped back, satisfied. “There. You’ll feel soreness for a while, but nothing fatal.”

  One of the knights leaned forward, voice sharp with curiosity. “Where are the three people who fought the creature? We heard it was a direct blow from one of them that forced the mythical beast to retreat. Are they still here?”

  Ren Wei, now upright and composed, offered a calm shrug. “They left.”

  The other knight narrowed his eyes. “Left? Without a word?”

  “They checked to see if anyone else was injured. Once they confirmed it was only me…” He gestured to the now-clean bandages. “They said this incident will make the royal knights involved, they’d rather not stay. So, they vanished.”

  “They must’ve known we’d come.”

  “Likely,” Ren Wei replied, tone even.

  Unknown to the knights, Rayne and Silas stood silently in the shadows of the ruined shop. The two royal figures were cloaked in tattered travel gear, hoods pulled low to hide the unmistakable signs of nobility—Silas’s regal posture, Rayne’s refined elegance. Even in rags, their presence couldn’t quite be dulled.

  They exchanged a glance as they listened.

  Silas leaned slightly toward Rayne, voice a soft murmur. “They didn’t wait for praise. Strange behavior for anyone strong enough to fight a Nox Wraith…”

  Rayne’s gaze swept the destroyed room. “No common mercenary could force it to retreat, let alone wound it. That power… I want to see it again.”

  “Something tells me you will,” Silas said under his breath.

  Just then, a soft breeze stirred the silence. A whisper through broken rafters, it rustled ash and caused loose paper to flutter across the floor.

  Rayne instinctively turned to his right—then paused.

  Something peach-colored caught his eye, swaying gently from a half-toppled pillar.

  He stepped closer, boots crunching over debris.

  The cloth—smooth, light, and slightly frayed at the edges—clung delicately to the jagged stone. Rayne reached out and plucked it free. The fabric was faintly warm, holding the residual heat of its previous bearer.

  He stared at it.

  This is no ordinary cloth. Worn to veil something… or someone. And it was enchanted by some spell.

  His thumb brushed over the fabric. For a moment, something unfamiliar stirred in his chest—quiet, elusive. He tucked the cloth gently into his cloak’s inner fold.

  That was when he saw it.

  Just beside the ruined chair, near a shattered table leg… a small, sticky puddle of black liquid glistened under the fractured light. It moved sluggishly, like oil resisting the sun.

  Rayne crouched.

  “Nox Wraith residue,” he murmured. “It was wounded deeply. It left part of itself behind.”

  Silas stepped closer, his expression now serious. “So, it bled… and retreated. That makes this worse than we thought.”

  Rayne rose to his feet, eyes on the cloth hidden in his hand.

  Who are you…?

  Elsewhere — Stone Roads Outside the Shop

  Three figures moved swiftly down a quiet stone path, weaving through the early city bustle. None of them spoke loudly. They didn’t need to. The air between them was charged with urgency.

  Kael led the way, his long black hair brushing his shoulders, the wooden pole slung carefully across his back. His sharp senses remained alert, scanning their surroundings with each step. Beside him, Quirl’s hands fidgeted slightly while Quin walked with calculated steps, her red eyes never leaving the ground too long.

  They didn’t know the prince’s face. They didn’t know the kingdom’s watchers had seen them.

  But they did know that news traveled fast.

  Whispers had already begun in the market streets, “The shadow beast,” “a collapsing shop,” “a mysterious savior with black hair and a brown hair…”

  Finally, they reached the familiar inn. Climbing the stairs two steps at a time, the trio slipped into their shared room and locked the door behind them.

  Quin was the first to exhale. “We’re safe… for now.”

  Quirl nodded wordlessly, falling onto the bed with a soft sigh.

  Kael placed his wooden pole against the wall. Then paused.

  Quin tilted her head. “Where’s your blindfold?”

  Kael blinked. His hand went to his forehead instinctively. “...I must’ve dropped it.”

  “You what?” Quin almost leapt up. “Kael, that thing’s enchanted—”

  “I know.” His jaw clenched slightly. “But I didn’t notice it in the chaos.”

  Quirl finally spoke, tired but amused. “Let’s hope no one saw your eyes then.”

  Kael didn’t reply.

  Outside the inn, the city buzzed with rumors of shadow, light, and a savior whose face no one could remember.

  And back in the ruined shop, hidden under layers of secrecy, a foreign prince from HuaLian held a soft peach-colored veil—unknowingly holding the thread to something much larger than either kingdom could imagine.

  Inside the Inn – Late Afternoon, Nearing Evening

  The faint light of the setting sun filtered through the wooden window slats of the rented inn room, casting long shadows across the floor. Dust motes danced in the amber light. The three figures sat on simple beds, Kael with his wooden pole leaned against the side of his mattress, his long black hair untied and swaying slightly in the breeze from the cracked window. Quirl sat cross-legged, fingers tapping against his knee in thought. Quin leaned back slightly, arms crossed, eyes narrowing with a contemplative frown.

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  “Why did the mythical creature suddenly appear here of all places?”

  Quirl finally asked, breaking the silence. “It wasn’t even its full form, just its shadow… but I felt it—strong, oppressive. When my dagger cut through its shadow, I could still feel its resistance.”

  Quin shifted, pulling off his gloves. “When I fought it, the sword in my hand trembled—not from fear,” he clarified, brows furrowed, “but a deep… disgust. As if the blade itself rejected the creature's essence after its claw was slashed.”

  Kael looked between them before slowly asking, “Do you both know the full description of the Nox Wraith? Not just its shadow or its true form, but why its appearance causes chaos… why even seasoned knights lose their lives when facing it unprepared?”

  Both Quirl and Quin shook their heads slowly.

  “We only learned of its basic forms from the temple scrolls,”

  Quirl admitted.

  “The shadow… the beast. But not why it comes.”

  Kael exhaled heavily and began, his tone low and measured, voice barely above the hush of the evening wind brushing past the wooden walls:

  “The Nox Wraith…”

  He paused.

  “Its true form is not something you see clearly, but feel. Covered in obsidian-like skin, its surface slick with a viscous saliva that smells of rotting corpses and burnt metal. Two long, curved horns extend from its temples, etched with runes that pulse with something… ancient. Its mouth—when opened—reveals not just rows of teeth, but jagged, asymmetrical fangs, some too long, some cracked, others fused together. And its breath—like a graveyard drenched in stagnant blood.”

  He saw both Quin and Quirl pale slightly at the imagery but continued.

  “The creature feeds on spiritual energy. Not just mana… but the essence of people. The more sensitive your senses are, the more you hear it. Its shrieks can pierce the mind, speaking in voices not of this realm. Those with untrained or weak spiritual defenses suffer nosebleeds, migraines, madness. But some—few—can fight back. Rare individuals with certain resonance.”

  Kael’s voice lowered as he added, “It doesn’t appear randomly. It manifests only under very specific conditions—when either its prey is near… or something within them calls it.”

  There was a long silence.

  Quin shuddered subtly. “I didn’t think… such a thing even existed beyond old battlefield myths.”

  Quirl rubbed his jaw, eyes narrowed. “Before it retreated, I heard it speak in my mind… a name. Two, actually. Whispered. But one stood out more.”

  Quin nodded slowly. “I heard it too. Thought I imagined it. But it was… it was someone name's, Kael.”

  Kael held his breath. His hand, resting on the bed, curled into a soft fist.

  “Only those with heightened spiritual sensitivity can hear its true voice,”

  Kael murmured. “You two… are more attuned than I thought.”

  Quirl looked over sharply. “You speak as if you’ve encountered it before. But… you’ve been trapped in the Vladimir estate since you were a child, haven’t you? How do you know all of this?”

  Kael paused. He could feel the air growing heavier. And hesitate before open his mouth speak.

  Then he asked quietly, “Do you believe in reincarnation? Or… rebirth?”

  Quirl blinked, leaning back slightly. “I’ve… read of it. The cycle of souls. But I only half believe. It feels like a tale to comfort the grieving.”

  Quin frowned. “I don’t. Once we die, we fade. That’s what I was taught—and what I’ve seen.”

  Kael’s shoulders dropped a little at their answers. A shadow crossed his expression. His voice, when it came again, was burdened.

  “Then it will be hard to explain what I truly am.” Kael says this in a low tone.

  Before more could be said, a knock came at the door.

  Quin rose and opened it cautiously—only to step back as Ren Wei entered.

  Clad in a scholar’s robe of deep forest green with silver embroidery marking arcane knowledge, his appearance was a stark contrast to the dusty ruins they had left behind. His face was calm but his eyes held stormed thoughts.

  “Forgive the intrusion,”

  Ren Wei bowed slightly to Kael, then turned and offered a polite dip of his head to Quirl and Quin. “We met briefly earlier, I am Ren Wei. A scholar in both mystical medicine and poisons.”

  The two nodded warily. Quin crossed his arms. Quirl simply narrowed his eyes, observing every movement.

  “I came to check on Sir Kael again,”

  Ren Wei continued.

  “There is… a rare poison that was infused into his bloodstream. I helped draw more of it out earlier.”

  Quin and Quirl both flinched, turning sharply to Kael. “Poison?” Quin echoed. “The same one Sir Serenn treated?”

  Kael nodded slowly. “Yes, He’s right. It’s… something placed there long ago to suppress something within me. Ren Wei helped remove some of it earlier. I feel clearer now.”

  “The poison was designed not to kill, but to weaken,”

  Ren Wei added, stepping further into the room. “It targets spiritual mana. A binding agent to hold something inside… or something ancient.”

  There was a pause. The flickering lantern hanging from the ceiling cast soft golden light, illuminating the serious expression on Ren Wei’s face.

  “I have to ask, Sir Kael,”

  Ren Wei’s voice dropped, grave and heavy.

  “The Nox Wraith didn’t just randomly attack that shop. It was drawn there. Drawn to you. Because of what resides inside your body, the spiritual mana that doesn’t belong to this world. You’re not just Kael. There is someone else inside you.”

  The air turned cold.

  Quirl stood, his hand unconsciously resting on his dagger’s hilt. “What are you saying?”

  “There’s a second mana,”

  Ren Wei said gently.

  “I traced it. It doesn’t belong to Salvation Kingdom. It’s only six months old in this world. And I seems to recognized the spiritual mana.”

  Both Quin and Quirl turned to Kael.

  Kael sat quietly, his eyes lowered, hands resting on his knees. A pang of guilt twisted in his chest, but he remained composed.

  “...So, it’s true,”

  He murmured.

  “The soul you see now didn’t originate from this body.”

  The room fell into a stunned silence.

  Outside, the last rays of sunlight vanished behind the buildings of Salvation’s capital. Night crept in slowly.

  Inside the room, secrets had just begun to surface

  The air in the room turned heavier, the golden light of the setting sun seeping in through the inn’s window casting long, wavering shadows over the wooden floor and worn bedposts. The earlier tension of mythical beasts and strange poisons was now replaced with something deeper — truth, memory, and the quiet storm of revelation.

  Kael — or rather, Asael — exhaled, his stormy gray eyes lowered to the cup of now-cold tea resting between his fingers, that was served earlier before they discussed about this. His voice, though quiet, filled every corner of the room like a forgotten hymn being sung for the first time in years.

  "I am not Kael Liam Vladimir," he said slowly. "Not the soul that was born in this body. The Kael you knew… his soul lingered within until a week ago. He gave me this body — no, he let me have it… willingly. That morning, when I asked to go to Silverstone, it was my wish, a request from me before he vanished.”

  Quirl froze, eyes wide. “That night…?”

  “Yes,” Kael nodded. “He left.”

  Quin’s shoulders tensed as he lowered his gaze, his jaw clenched. A familiar grief touched his features, one he thought buried with the past Kael, but now twisted into something more complicated.

  “I’m sorry,” Kael murmured. “I couldn’t make him stay… even if I wanted to.”

  Silence. Then Kael’s voice returned, firmer, gentler.

  “I woke up that morning, confused, in a borrowed body. A servant had come to wake me. At first, I thought it was a dream. My memories… they returned slowly, like waves. Some things are still missing, especially the moment in the past before I died. But I remember my name clearly.”

  His gaze lifted. “Asael Kian Ravenwood. That was me… is me. I died six months ago.”

  Quirl blinked. “Six… months…”

  Quin muttered the same words, his brows furrowing, but then his eyes snapped wide. “That’s not possible… Six months ago… Asael, the Court Sorcerer of HuaLian… you died during the southern incursion and died saving Lord Ashen Vilebane.”

  "That was what all the citizen from HuaLian Kingdom said." Ren Wei said after telling them that he was there when the royal palace announced it like that.

  Kael didn’t flinch. “Yes and No,” It's true he died during southern incursion but he was not died because saving Ashen he thought.

  "What do you mean 'no'?" Quirl asked.

  'The reason I died not because of I save Ashen Vilebane." Asael said in Kael body.

  "What do you mean?" Quin asking curiously. But Asael didn't answer him, Quin didn't questioned it further.

  Ren Wei, sitting at the edge of Quirl’s bed, seemed the calmest, but only outwardly. His scholar’s robes, deep forest green with silver embroidery and a braided sash of silver thread, shifted slightly as he leaned forward, voice steady. “You were from HuaLian Kingdom?”

  Kael nodded slowly. “Born and raised.”

  And then, simply: “Yes, I am him. Asael Kian Ravenwood, who was once called the Powerful Sorcerer of the Easthern.”

  The room dropped into a stunned silence. Quin stared at him, mouth slightly ajar, the disbelief in his eyes beginning to give way to something more painful, acceptance. Quirl looked like he wanted to speak, but every time he opened his mouth, the words seemed to die before birth.

  Only Ren Wei’s hand trembled faintly. He placed it against his chest, bowing slightly with his head lowered. “Then my speculation… was true earlier.”

  Twenty minutes passed like a single breath held too long. Emotions shifted silently in the room. Grief. Wonder. Guilt. All mingled under the dying sun.

  Then Quirl spoke at last, his voice quieter than usual. “So… the one who cried that day by the riverbank after His Highness Rayne asked you about Asael Kian Ravenwood… That was you, Asael.”

  Kael — Asael — gave a faint, rueful smile. “Yes. That was me. I wasn’t ready to meet him so soon and was asked such question. Rayne. Not at Silverstone and other places, not like that. It was too soon.”

  Quin finally found his voice. “That’s why you were in so much pain.”

  Kael nodded. “When we sparred, he asked me if I knew Asael, you two hear it. I didn't answer. I couldn’t. The moment felt wrong… and I feared his reaction. That misunderstanding… it tore me apart after he left. I broke.”

  Quirl placed a hand over his mouth, recalling the image of Kael — Asael now — crumpled beside the river, shoulders trembling in silent grief. “You… you hated him in your past life?”

  Asael’s gaze softened, distant. “I thought I did. I pushed him away for years. But somewhere in that coldness… I grew distant not because I hated him. I feared him. Feared how easily he saw through me. And when I became the leader of the Sorcerers, I met Ashen Vilebane.”

  Ren Wei blinked. “Ashen Vilebane. The Shadow Enchanter of Virelane now at HuaLian Kingdom?”

  Kael smiled, wistful. “He was… kind to me. Gentle in ways I never understood. His presence quieted my mind. I only realized I loved him when he almost died on one of our mission. He never knew I loved him until that day.”

  His voice broke slightly. “But… I smiled when I saw him. Every time without me realizing it until that one memory I remember.”

  He told them about Ashen — about quiet nights in the eastern archives, about sparring with veiled spells, about stolen glances, about warmth found in war. It was a story laced with both light and ache, and even Quin’s usually stoic expression softened, his eyes glinting wet.

  Ren Wei gave a soft hum of understanding. Quirl looked like he might cry but held it in.

  Then Asael quieted, his tone shifting. “Our last mission together… I was going to confess. But I never got the chance. I died that night.”

  Silence.

  Quin sniffled, clearing his throat. “Was… Ashen with you? In your final moments?”

  Asael looked away, eyes darkening with something unreadable. A long pause passed before he answered.

  “…No.”

  Quirl leaned in slightly. “Then… who?”

  Ren Wei echoed the question softly. “Who was there, Sir Asael?”

  The room held its breath. Asael’s gaze dropped, shadows pooling in his eyes like memories he wasn’t yet ready to face.

  “It was someone else,” he said finally, voice distant.

  And the room, full of ghosts and quiet revelations, fell into silence once more, the kind that lingered, heavy and knowing.

  To be continued...

  >_<