The forest had changed.
Kael could feel it. The trees no longer whispered warnings but watched in reverence, swaying as if bowing. The mark on his hand had grown more vivid since the Vault—its spiral now pulsing like a second sun beneath his skin.
Three days had passed since the battle.
Three days since he killed.
He should've felt guilt.
He didn't.
Only... weight.
And something else.
Power.
---
"Again," Sylen said, tossing a handful of pebbles into the air.
Kael shifted his stance and drew the blade in one clean arc.
The pebbles split apart in midair—clean slices, down to grains of dust. The sword hummed as if pleased.
"Not bad," Sylen muttered. "You're remembering faster than I expected."
Kael wiped the sweat from his brow. "You mean I've done this before?"
"In your blood," Sylen said. "The Firstborn trained through inheritance. Skills etched into bone. Echoes passed through blood."
"So… every time I fight, I remember?"
"Not exactly. You awaken. Piece by piece. Battle sharpens what's buried. But it also invites danger."
Kael frowned. "Because the more I awaken…"
"The more they'll fear you. And the harder they'll come."
---
They set up camp in the shadow of a cliff carved with ancient runes. Lira helped prepare food—flatbread with dried root vegetables—and listened to Kael's stories wide-eyed.
"Do you think Mom's still alive?" she asked quietly as night fell.
Kael looked into the fire.
"I know she is," he whispered.
He saw her in his dreams. His mother, Ysolde—hair like moonlight, arms like iron. She'd told him stories of the Old Flame, the fire that couldn't be tamed.
He never knew those were real.
But he would find her.
And protect her.
---
That night, Kael dreamed.
Not of the past, but of something older.
He stood in a field of silver grass, under a moon carved with runes. Figures stood around him—seven silhouettes cloaked in starlight. One stepped forward.
A woman. Eyes like burning suns. Her voice rang like thunder and song.
"You carry our legacy, Kael Nightroot."
"Who are you?" he asked.
"Your ancestors. Your burden. Your blade."
She reached toward his chest, and his mark pulsed.
"The blood remembers. But beware. Memory is a weapon, and not all truths should be known."
Kael woke gasping, heart pounding, hand still clutching the sword.
The mark glowed faintly.
And then it whispered.
---
Status Interface Detected. Awakening Blood Memory...
A glowing screen formed before him, written in the same runes from the Vault—yet he understood every word.
---
Name: Kael Nightroot
Bloodline: ??? (Firstborn – Memory Locked)
Tier: Initiate (Level 3)
Affinity: ???
Skills Unlocked:
– Blade Echo (Inherited Form – Lv. 1)
– Instinct Shift (Combat Memory Triggered – Lv. 1)
– Legacy Sight (Passive – Ancient Awareness)
---
Kael blinked.
"What is this?"
Sylen appeared at his side, unsurprised. "Your blood system. Firstborns don't use standard mana paths. Their powers awaken through memory and inheritance."
Kael stared at the screen, then at his sword. "Then I'm not learning… I'm remembering."
"Yes," Sylen said grimly. "And not all those memories are kind."
---
The next day, Sylen took Kael and Lira to a hill crowned with seven broken statues—weathered, forgotten, and moss-covered.
"This was once a shrine," Sylen said. "To the First Seven."
Kael touched one of the statues, feeling warmth echo through his fingers.
"What happened to them?"
"They lost. Betrayed by one of their own. The world moved on, and the Order erased the rest."
Kael looked at the crumbled face.
"They won't erase me."
Sylen smiled thinly. "Good. Because you're going to learn how to burn them back."
---
They trained under stars and stone.
Kael sparred until his arms bled. He practiced Instinct Shift—letting his body move with reflexes he didn't understand. The more he fought, the clearer things became: footwork etched in memory, energy paths flowing like rivers under his skin.
He also began sensing threads—lines of fate that trailed from people, from places. His sword hummed when near them.
He was changing.
But it wasn't painless.
---
One night, Lira asked, "Will we ever go home?"
Kael didn't answer immediately.
"We can't. Not yet."
"But we didn't do anything wrong."
Kael looked into her eyes. "The world doesn't fear wrong. It fears different."
She nodded, brave despite the tears in her lashes. "Then I'll be different too."
He hugged her tightly.
"You already are."
---
Days later, something shifted.
The forest trembled. Birds vanished.
Sylen froze mid-step. "We're not alone."
A low growl echoed from the ridge.
Then it stepped out.
A beast—taller than a house, armored in bark and bone, with six glowing eyes and fangs like icicles.
"Forest Revenant," Sylen cursed. "They never come this far south. Unless…"
He looked at Kael.
"They're being drawn to you."
The Revenant charged.
---
Kael rolled aside as its claws struck the earth. Sylen danced between its legs, slashing at tendons. Lira hid beneath a fallen tree, eyes wide.
Kael tried to calm his breath.
Then he remembered the Vault's whisper: Memory is a weapon.
He let go.
Let the blood speak.
His vision blurred. Time slowed.
He saw its weak points—cracks between its bark armor, black spots beneath its throat.
He leapt.
The blade hummed.
One clean strike.
CRACK.
The Revenant howled, crashing to its knees.
Sylen finished it with a blast of crimson light.
Kael stood over the corpse, panting, blade glowing faintly blue.
Another memory had returned.
Another step forward.
---
That night, the system whispered again.
---
Level Up – Tier: Initiate Lv. 6
Skill Gained: Bloodbind (Lv. 1 – Passive)
Trait Unlocked: Firstborn Pulse – Enables relic sense and ancestral bond detection
---
Kael lay under the stars, sword beside him, Lira asleep on his arm.
Sylen watched from the fire.
"You're growing too fast," he said. "But the world won't wait."
Kael stared at the stars, where a new one had begun to shine—faint, but constant.
"I don't want to be a god," he said quietly. "I just want to protect what matters."
Sylen nodded. "Then you'll need to become something more."
---