A month passed in the blink of an eye.
Kael spent it buried in books his enhanced cognition skill allowing him to absorb and process knowledge at lightning speed. Mana theory, combat principles, swordsmanship evolution, and even old myths all devoured, categorized, and stored in his mind like puzzle pieces waiting to be assembled.
And now, the time had come.
He stood in front of a mirror, fully dressed in the pristine Aetherion uniform. It fit perfectly. Clean, regal, with a quiet aura of authority. He placed the rest of his items into his storage ring, the magical space flickering briefly as the equipment vanished within.
Kael turned to the home that had sheltered him. For a long moment, he just stared.
"…Goodbye," he whispered.
He closed the door behind him and walked into the quiet of the late night, his footsteps echoing against the smooth cobblestone paths of the futuristic-Victorian city. The moon hovered above, cloaked in wispy clouds, and the streetlamps glowed gently in their suspended crystal housings.
But then.
He stopped.
From the alley shadows ahead, three cloaked figures stepped out, their footsteps quiet but deliberate. Kael's crimson, snake-shaped eyes narrowed as he spotted the insignia on their cloaks a broken fang pierced by flame.
That… symbol.
It flickered in his mind something his father once warned him about. The image resurfaced briefly, muddled by time.
But before he could dig deeper, they attacked.
Blades shimmered in the dark, slashing through the air toward him.
Yet Kael remained motionless, his mind shifting into clarity as Calm Mind activated. Fear? Gone. Panic? Absent. Only instinct and calculation remained.
Shhhk...
In a rush of dark mist, Vanta Edge coiled from his arm like a serpent, materializing in his grip with a hiss of shadow and steel. He moved.
Three quick, clean arcs.
Slice. Slice. Slice.
The cloaked swordsmen didn't even have time to scream. Their heads dropped to the ground, eyes wide in disbelief, followed by their bodies no blood spilled. Instead, they dissolved into shimmering black mist, as if they were never real.
Kael stood still, sword pulsing once with a low growl before vanishing into his arm again.
He exhaled.
"That insignia…" he muttered, brows furrowed. He couldn't afford to dwell on it now. Whoever they were, they wouldn't be the last. But he'd deal with that later.
Time was ticking.
Kael resumed his pace and reached the teleport bus station, stepping aboard just as the doors hissed shut.
His destination: Aetherion Academy.