VoidSpecter

Betrayed. Forgotten. Erased from history.

Kael Draven was once a loyal knight of the Divine Order, an elite warrior who fought in their name. But when he uncovered their darkest secrets, they silenced him—branding him a traitor and executing him without hesitation.

Yet death was not the end. An unknown force grants Kael a second chance, sending him twenty years into the past. Now, in his seventeen-year-old body, he has one goal: to bring down the Divine Order from the shadows.

Armed with knowledge of the future and a system that grants power at a deadly cost, Kael must rebuild his strength, gather allies, and navigate a world where his enemies still hold absolute control. But the deeper he digs, the more he realizes—the Divine Order’s corruption runs far deeper than he ever imagined.

The world believes the Divine Order is untouchable. Kael will prove them wrong.

This time, he won’t fight for them. He will bring them to ruin.

Eclipsed monarch

The night air was cold and silent. Kael stood before her, his gaze unreadable.

"It's time to put your skills to the test."

He tossed a parchment onto the table. A map. A location. A target.

"A group of slavers operating outside the city. Kill them while they work—leave no survivors. Free the slaves."

She met his eyes, searching for hesitation in his voice. There was none.

He was not asking. He was giving an order.

She gave a small nod, took the map, and left.

The slavers worked in an abandoned warehouse, far from the main roads. She watched them from the shadows, her fingers tightening around the dagger Kael had given her.

Chains rattled. The scent of sweat and filth clung to the air. The slaves—men, women, and children—were lined up like cattle, their faces empty.

She counted six slavers. Armed but careless. Confident in their power.

She moved like a ghost, slipping past the guards. The first slaver stood near the cages, back turned.

A quick strike. A blade across the throat. No scream, just a wet gurgle.

The others turned at the sound of his body hitting the ground.

She dashed forward, ducking under a sword swing. Her dagger plunged into a second man's gut. He gasped, eyes wide, before she twisted the blade and yanked it free.

The remaining slavers rushed her. One drew a crossbow—she flung a stolen dagger, burying it between his eyes before he could fire.

One tried to flee. She caught him first. A knife to the spine. He collapsed.

The last two raised their weapons, backing away, fear overtaking their faces.

She let them see her—just for a moment.

The warehouse was silent, save for the slow drip of blood pooling on the floor.

The slaves stared at her, their chains still binding them.

Her fingers were stained red. She felt their gazes—fear, gratitude, confusion.

"You are not their savior. You are their executioner."

Still, she reached for the keys. The chains fell.

Some of them ran. Others stood frozen, staring at her as if she were something not human.

He was waiting. His eyes flicked to her bloodstained clothes.

A pause. Then, a slight nod of approval.

"Good. Rest. Your next mission will be harder."

Chapter 28: A Blade’s First Cut