The wind howled low between the buildings, carrying the scent of blood and ash.
Stepping out of the dorm lobby, Kael walked into the chaos.
Blood and ash stained the ground. Broken chunks of buildings were scattered across the plaza like discarded memories of a world that no longer existed.
He moved slowly, cautiously, his eyes scanning every shadow. Every overturned bench. Every flickering streetlamp.
He was looking for movement—for signs of zombies, monsters, anything non-human he could kill.
He needed to reach Level 10. Fast.
Until then, he couldn't use his flames.
And yet… the campus was empty.
No survivors. No enemies.
Just corpses—students, zombies, and one thing that didn't belong.
A tree.
But not just any tree.
It stood over ten feet tall, bark as black as coal, its limbs twisted like arthritic fingers. Runes glowed faintly along its trunk, and its roots pulsed with a slow, steady rhythm—like a heartbeat.
Kael stared at it, eyes narrowing.
"The heck is that?"
"A Treant," Seraphiel replied. "They're from the Obsidian Wilds. A twisted realm full of eldritch creatures."
Kael frowned.
"So wait—if Treants are from the Obsidian Wilds, and Beastkin are from the Warring Plains… how many different worlds are on Earth now?"
Seraphiel didn't hesitate.
"There are three worlds that are combing with Earth. 2 of which you've meet already."
"The Warring Plains," she began, " a realm of endless war. Imagine a world where the sun never sets, and the only law is strength. Orcs, goblins, beastkin, war-tribes, nomads—all born to conquer, raised to kill. They don't build cities. They burn them. Their leaders don't rule—they dominate through fear or challenge. Blood runs thicker than water there, and even the young are taught to slit throats before they can speak."
Kael's jaw tightened, remembering how lucky he'd been taking down that lone Beastkin.
"They're not savages," Seraphiel warned. "They're organized chaos."
She paused before continuing,
her voice lowering.
"The Infernal Descent is Hell by another name. Not the one from your stories—worse. A layered chasm where fallen angels, demons, and cursed souls twist together in flame and shadow. There's no sky. Only screaming smoke and rivers of fire. The corrupted walk openly, ruled by warlords of sin—beings who were once divine… now monstrous."
Kael swallowed, uneasy.
"And they're here?"
"They've already sunk roots," she confirmed. "The air is changing. Corruption seeps into your soil, your buildings… your dreams. You'll know when you're close. The air turns to rot, and the light stops working."
Another pause.
Heavier this time.
"And then there's the Obsidian Wilds," she said, her tone almost reverent—and laced with warning.
"That's the oldest of the three. A realm where forests think, and the animals remember. Trees bleed. Roots whisper. Time doesn't flow right. You'll find ancient beasts there, Kael—creatures that make dragons look like house pets. And worse... the Wilds don't care who you are. Divine, demon, human—it doesn't matter. The forest devours all."
Before Kael could ask another question, a ripple of foreboding crawled down his spine like ice.
A sixth sense.
He ducked behind a toppled kiosk just as the sensation spiked.
Peering over the kiosk, he spotted three Beastkin—each larger than the one he'd taken down, and clearly more organized. You could tell just from the way they spoke to each other. Their language was rough and guttural, like a dog growling… with just a hint of human dialect.
"Do you know what they're saying, Seraphiel?"
"Yes, actually. Right now, they're talking about their friend—the scout you killed. They're wondering why he hasn't come back yet, and whether something dangerous might be over there. They're debating whether or not to check it out... but they're being cautious. They need to find their chief and war leader soon, before they're gone too long."
Kael exhaled slowly. "So, what's the game plan?"
"I'm assuming we let them go," he added. "Because there's no way I can take on three of them."
"Correct. You're not ready to fight them yet, Kael. But that's fine. We just need to make sure we don't head in the same direction. My guess? There'll be more zombies inside the buildings and fewer monsters like these Beastkin. So, you might want to start working your way through the structures—clear them out, absorb what you can, and keep leveling."
Kael nodded at the suggestion, thoughtful.
He watched as the Beastkin moved together, speaking in low growls, their bodies hunched with purpose. After a brief exchange, they turned away—heading in a direction opposite the dorm.
They'd decided not to follow their missing scout.
Not because they didn't care.
But because whatever killed him… might be too much for the three of them to handle.
Kael didn't waste time.
Once the Beastkin moved out of sight, he slipped into the nearest academic building. The hallway was trashed—lockers torn open, desks overturned, blood smeared in chaotic streaks across the walls and floor.
He moved fast.
One step. One breath. One kill.
A zombie stumbled out from a doorway. Kael didn't hesitate—he drove his stolen spear through its chest, angled up into the brainstem. The corpse dropped instantly, twitching.
No Cube.
Another groaned from deeper inside. Kael gripped the spear tighter and swept forward in a brutal arc, snapping its knee with a low strike before stabbing it through the eye.
Still nothing.
He cleared floor after floor, carving through half-rotted bodies, broken limbs, hollow eyes. Some tried to lunge. Others just wandered. None of them stood a chance.
No flames. No powers.
Just his body, his weapon, and the quiet fury in his heart.
Kael pushed open another door and stepped into what had once been a computer lab.
Now, it was a slaughterhouse.
Wires hung like vines from the ceiling. Desks were overturned, monitors shattered. Blood soaked the floor.
Two zombies stood over a half-devoured corpse, backs turned.
Kael didn't hesitate.
He sprinted forward, drove the spear clean through the first skull, then yanked it sideways and caught the second in the throat. It flailed, screeching, but Kael twisted the spear free and brought it down through its skull in one clean strike.
Both fell.
This time, when the silence settled... he heard it.
Clink.
A small, glowing object rolled across the floor—a six-sided shard of faint light.
A Hexagon Cube.
Kael crouched, fingers brushing the surface.
"Finally."
He focused his will.
The Cube responded—pulsing with dull silver light before cracking open. A faint coil of essence rose from within, twisting like smoke before slipping into his skin.
[Corruption Essence – Tier 1 Absorbed]
[Level Up – Level 8 Achieved]
Kael winced as the cold sensation rushed through his chest—but it was nothing like before. His body had started adapting.
"Eight," he muttered. "Almost there."
Then—
Screams.
They came from outside—loud, sharp, and urgent.
Kael rushed to the window.
Across the courtyard, near the shattered amphitheater, a group of students were surrounded—five of them, armed with mismatched weapons: a bone-bladed axe, a jagged-edged sword, one even had a glowing gauntlet made of translucent crystal.
They were all fighting together, backs to each other, against a pack of mutant wolves. Fast, lean, all muscle and claws—corrupted creatures with glowing green eyes and too many teeth.
One lunged—and the axe wielder barely blocked in time, getting knocked flat.
Kael's eyes narrowed.