Three days passed.
Kael remained at the hidden base, surrounded by stone walls, wounded warriors, and silence thick with anticipation.
Outside, the skies churned with gray clouds, as if the world itself waited for him to move.
Inside, Kael healed... and prepared.
His body ached with every movement.
Each breath was a reminder of the brutal battle with Veyrith.
But more than the pain, it was the memory of that moment—his powers spiraling out of control, the sword driven into Veyrith's chest, and the voice of his mother—that refused to let him rest.
The scar he'd left on Veyrith wasn't just flesh-deep.
It was a message.
"I'm not weak anymore."
But Kael knew the truth.
He had been pushed to the edge.
And something was changing inside him.
The pain that struck when he tapped into his angelic core wasn't normal.
The backlash, the memory loss, the wild energy—it all hinted at something deeper.
Something awakening.
So, he trained.
Not to grow stronger... but to gain control.
He honed his telekinesis—lifting small stones, twisting branches midair, learning to strike with force or gentleness.
He practiced healing, working on minor injuries with surgical precision.
He studied time manipulation, slowing insects, raindrops, even flame flickers for short bursts.
Not to break time.
To understand it.
Yuna often stood nearby, watching with crossed arms and thoughtful eyes.
Sometimes she joined him—sparring in slow, deliberate sword drills beneath the cold morning sun.
Her Burn Sigil would glow faintly with each motion, and together they found a rhythm in the clash of flame and focus.
Caziel watched too—silent as always, leaning against stone pillars, offering words only when they were needed.
He never spoke to push Kael.
Only to guide him.
But the greatest shift came not in waking... but in dreams.
Or rather, visions.
Each time Kael slept, he saw her.
His mother.
Not a fading memory, not a soft illusion—
A presence.
Her voice rang clear in the vastness of his mind:
"Kael… time is running out.
The sword is more than a weapon. It's the key.
It was sealed in a place unreachable by ordinary means.
Only someone with both light and flame in their blood can find it."
The dreams left him breathless.
Sweat drenched his sheets.
Each time, the vision almost revealed the location—
A mountain wreathed in stormclouds?
A floating island cracked in half?
A shattered ruin glowing with ancient sigils?
It slipped away before he could grasp it.
But he knew—he felt it.
He was getting closer.
Now, he had the strength.
Now, he had the resolve.
All he needed...
...was the way forward.
And soon,
it would reveal itself.