Recognition And Reward

Kael strode back into Emberhod under the dim glow of lanterns, his armor stained with dirt and blood. The guild hall was still lively despite the late hour—adventurers boasting of victories, merchants haggling over supplies, and bounty hunters swapping stories over cheap ale.

At the counter, the same clerk from before looked up with disinterest. "Back already?"

Kael dropped a pouch onto the desk. The clerk opened it, eyes widening slightly at the number of goblin ears. "Not bad for a first hunt," he muttered. But as he reached for the ledger, Kael placed another object onto the counter—a jagged claw, severed cleanly from the monster he had slain.

The clerk froze, then glanced up. "This... this is from a B-rank monster. You're telling me you took this thing down on your first hunt?"

A few nearby adventurers turned their heads, interested in the commotion.

Kael met the clerk's gaze. "Is that a problem?"

The man chuckled, shaking his head as he reached under the counter, pulling out a heavier pouch of coins. "Not at all. You just earned yourself a bonus. Mid-rank monsters aren't something rookies usually walk away from."

Kael took the reward, nodding in approval. He wasn't here for fame—just coin and purpose.

As he stepped away, a few guild members whispered among themselves, murmurs of curiosity surrounding the mysterious new adventurer.

It was a small step, but Kael knew one thing for certain—he was far from finished.

Kael made his way through the streets of Emberhod, the weight of the coin pouch in his hand a reminder of his first step into this new life. He soon arrived at the small inn where Darian and Ren had settled in.

The moment he stepped inside, Ren nearly dropped his drink. "By the gods, you're back already?"

Darian, who was sharpening a newly bought dagger, looked up. His eyes flickered to the pouch Kael placed on the table. "That much in a single day?"

Kael simply nodded. "Goblins pay well. A B-rank monster pays better."

Ren whistled. "You took on a mid-rank beast on your first hunt? And you survived?"

Kael smirked. "Barely."

Darian shook his head, impressed. "Either you're lucky, or you're really as dangerous as the legends say."

Kael sat down, the exhaustion finally catching up to him. "I'll let you decide which."

The brothers exchanged glances, both knowing one thing for certain—they had just partnered with someone far beyond an ordinary adventurer.

As the night deepened, Darian tossed a pouch onto the table. "With what you earned, you should get yourself a proper set of armor and a real sword. That dagger won't last forever."

Ren nodded. "Yeah, you took down a mid-rank beast today, but if you keep fighting like that, you won't last long without better gear."

Kael ran his fingers over the dagger's worn hilt, the same weapon he had pulled from his own chest the moment he awoke in the tomb. It was a blade of betrayal, the very instrument of his fall.

He shook his head. "I'll get armor. A sword, maybe. But I'm keeping this dagger."

Ren raised a brow. "Why? Sentimental value?"

Kael's grip tightened. "It's a reminder."

Darian didn't press further, but he understood. This wasn't just about survival—Kael carried something heavier than coin or steel. He carried vengeance.

After the long day of battle and revelations, Kael stepped into the washroom. The cool water washed away the dirt and blood, but it could not cleanse the weight of his past. He traced the scar on his chest, the mark left by Malachai's betrayal—a wound that should have ended him but instead became the beginning of something new.

Dressed in fresh clothes, he returned to the small, dimly lit room where the brothers were already settling in. The bed creaked as he lay down, exhaustion finally pulling at him.

As he stared at the ceiling, he couldn't help but wonder: What had become of Lyra? What else had changed in these two centuries?

Sleep came slowly, but when it did, it was dreamless. Tomorrow, his journey would truly begin.