Whispers of the Construct’s

The kingdom of Persia bustled with life as people walked along the cobblestone pathways, weaving between market stalls and street vendors. The glow of lanterns and the hum of machinery lit up the night, a testament to the kingdom's technological advancements over the past two decades.

At the heart of Persia stood three towering structures—the pinnacle of magic and technology working in harmony. These buildings housed the kingdom's greatest minds, forging magic-infused weapons capable of combating magical beasts and War Constructs alike. The central building, however, served a different purpose: a training ground for those who sought to master their magic and devote themselves to the gods and their church.

Inside the training hall, two figures sat in silence.

Zarex, a man with shoulder-length blonde hair and a broad, muscular build, wiped sweat from his brow as he took a long sip from his water bottle. Across from him, Aubrey, a tall woman with flowing blonde hair cascading to her lower back, observed him with curiosity. Her lean yet powerful frame was evidence of her rigorous training.

She tilted her head slightly before speaking. "You've been pushing yourself harder than usual. You only train like this when you're preparing for something big. Does this have to do with the War Construct sighted near that town you visited yesterday?"

Zarex drained the rest of his bottle, no longer needing to conserve it. "That's never happened before," he admitted, his voice heavy with thought. "Constructs only appear in ruins or places where dark magic lingers. But that town has neither. So where the hell did it come from?"

With a sigh, he stood up, heading toward the large wooden doors at the end of the hall. Aubrey quickly followed, her mind turning over his words.

"The church should send a squad to investigate in the morning," she mused. "If this is the start of something bigger, we need to be ready."

Zarex nodded, taking a left turn down a short hallway that led to a set of double doors. "Yeah. I'm calling the others."

He pushed open the doors, stepping into a dimly lit meeting room. A long table stretched before them, ten chairs arranged neatly—five on each side, with one at each end. Moving to the head of the table, Zarex pulled open a small drawer, retrieving a sleek black tablet.

He powered it on and tossed it onto the table.

Ring! Ring! Ring!

A moment later, a holographic image flickered to life, revealing a young man with white hair and sharp blue eyes. His face lit up with an easy grin as he saw his friends.

"Well, well, if it isn't the golden twins," Lucious said, his usual smugness lacing his voice. "What's got you calling a meeting this late? You do know most of the Saints are out on missions, right?"

Before Zarex or Aubrey could respond, another voice cut in—smooth but firm.

"If you weren't so oblivious and actually paid attention to your work, you'd already know why."

Elaine's image appeared beside Lucious—a poised woman with dark brown hair and piercing green eyes. She radiated an air of quiet authority.

She continued, "Only the two of us will be responding. The others are busy."

Zarex leaned back, his dark blue eyes shadowed with thought. "Then I'll make this quick. You've both heard about the War Construct near the southern town. I need you to investigate—see if there's any trace of dark magic or an artifact that could have caused it. This falls right into your expertise, Elaine."

A smirk tugged at Elaine's lips. "Finally, something worthwhile. I'll head out in the morning."

Her screen blinks off, leaving only Lucious on the call.

"Sooo… what are you—"

Before he could finish, Zarex disconnected the call with a sigh. Aubrey chuckled, shaking her head at Lucious's antics.

Zarex stowed the tablet back in the drawer before rising to his feet. Without a word, he strode toward the elevator at the opposite end of the hall. Aubrey followed, stepping inside beside him.

Zarex placed his hand against the scanner, channeling his magic into it. The panel lit up, and the elevator hummed to life, ascending smoothly to the top floor where their living quarters were located.

When the doors slid open, they stepped out, walking toward their respective rooms. Aubrey's was directly across from the elevator, while Zarex's lay just to the left.

Without another word, they parted ways, each disappearing into their rooms.

The day's weight pressed down on them, but before long, the sound of running water faded into silence. As exhaustion finally took hold, they drifted into sleep—completely unaware of the events that would soon unfold.

The morning sun crept over the horizon, casting a golden glow over the kingdom of Persia. The streets were already alive with merchants setting up their stalls, the chatter of townsfolk filling the air. However, inside the towering headquarters of the Saints, the mood was far more serious.

Elaine strode through the halls, her dark brown hair tied back in a loose ponytail, her emerald eyes sharp with focus. Dressed in a sleek black uniform with silver accents, she moved with quiet purpose, the heels of her boots clicking against the polished marble floor.

As she stepped into the mission hall, Lucious was already waiting, casually leaning against the wall. His white hair was slightly messy, his usual smirk in place.

"You're actually on time," Elaine noted, crossing her arms.

Lucious chuckled. "Hey, when it comes to actual work, I don't slack off. Well, not much."

Elaine rolled her eyes but didn't comment further. She turned toward a table where a few documents were laid out, detailing the mission parameters. "The town is a day's ride from here. We need to find out what caused the War Construct to appear. If it's an artifact, we secure it. If it's something worse, we report back immediately."

Lucious sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, yeah. Let's just hope it's nothing too bad. I just bought a new coat, and I'd rather not get it covered in blood again."

Elaine ignored his remark and stepped toward the teleportation array at the center of the hall. Lucious followed, and with a flash of blue light, they vanished from the headquarters—headed straight for the southern town.

The town was quiet. Too quiet.

The marketplace, which should have been bustling, was subdued. The people moved about warily, their voices hushed, as if afraid to draw attention. Even the guards patrolling the streets seemed on edge, gripping their weapons tighter than usual.

Elaine and Lucious stepped out from the teleportation point, their eyes scanning the area.

"Well," Lucious murmured, "I don't think they're throwing us a welcome party."

Elaine ignored him and approached a nearby guard. "Excuse me. We're here on orders from the Saints. We need to speak to whoever's in charge."

The guard, a young man with a nervous expression, nodded quickly. "Y-Yes, ma'am. The captain is in the barracks. He's been expecting someone from the capital."

Elaine gestured for Lucious to follow, and they made their way through the streets toward the barracks. Along the way, Lucious took in the sight of the damaged buildings, the deep claw marks in the ground, and the still-lingering sense of dread in the air.

"This wasn't just a normal Construct attack," he muttered. "Something's off."

Elaine said nothing, but she felt it too.

As they stepped into the barracks, a burly man with a graying beard stood from his desk, his sharp eyes scanning them.

"You must be the Saints," he said, his voice gruff but steady. "I'm Captain Roderic. You've come at the right time. We have a problem."

Elaine raised a brow. "More than just a War Construct appearing out of nowhere?"

Roderic's expression darkened. "Yes. A survivor was found near the battlefield."

Elaine's posture stiffened. "A survivor?"

Roderic nodded. "A young man. He was unconscious when we found him near an abandoned house at the forest's edge. He's stable now, but there's something strange about him. His injuries should have been fatal, but by the time we brought him in, he had already begun healing on his own."

Lucious and Elaine exchanged glances.

"Where is he now?" Elaine asked.

"In the infirmary," Roderic said. "But be careful. We don't know who—or what—he really is."

Elaine's fingers twitched at her side.

She had a bad feeling about this.Elaine and Lucious followed Captain Roderic through the dimly lit halls of the barracks, their footsteps muffled against the stone floors. The air felt heavy, filled with the tension of unanswered questions. They reached a door at the end of a narrow corridor, marked with a simple wooden plaque reading "Infirmary."

Roderic knocked twice before pushing it open, revealing a small, sterile room. The low hum of a lantern cast a soft glow over the figure lying on the cot. At first glance, the young man appeared to be nothing more than a ragged survivor, his clothes torn and stained with blood. But as Elaine's gaze moved over him, she noticed the subtle details that made her uneasy—the unnatural stillness of his posture, the way his chest rose and fell with such controlled, steady rhythm, almost too perfect.

The man's dark hair was disheveled, his face pale but surprisingly unmarked by the injuries he'd sustained. Elaine could see the faintest traces of scars on his exposed arms—scars that seemed to shimmer with a strange, otherworldly glow, like faint threads of magic woven into his skin.

The healer in the corner, an older woman with gray hair tied in a tight bun, stood up when they entered. She wiped her hands on her apron, giving them a nervous glance. "He's stable now, but we haven't been able to figure out how he's healing so quickly. His injuries were severe. Too severe."

Elaine stepped forward, her sharp eyes narrowing as she observed the unconscious man. "And you're certain he's a survivor of the battle with the Construct?"

The healer nodded, casting a glance at Roderic. "He was found on the outskirts, just as the battle ended. There was no sign of anyone else. No signs of the usual debris from a Construct attack. Just… him."

Elaine's eyes flicked to Lucious, who seemed as curious as she was. She took a step closer to the bed, her boots soft against the floor. As she reached out to brush a lock of hair from the young man's face, she felt a strange pulse in the air—something faint but unmistakable. Like a ripple in the fabric of reality.

She stopped just short of touching him, her fingers lingering above his skin. There was something about him that felt… off. Not in a dangerous way, but in the way something familiar can feel foreign when you've been away from it for too long. Something about him called to her, like a faint whisper she couldn't quite make out.

Lucious broke the silence, leaning against the doorframe with his usual carefree demeanor, though there was a slight unease in his voice. "So, what do you think? Is he a part of some dark magic experiment or just an unlucky bystander?"

Elaine didn't answer right away. She wasn't entirely sure herself. But there was something about this man—his presence, the energy radiating from him—that told her he wasn't just a simple survivor. And whatever happened in that town, he was tied to it.

"I don't know," she muttered, finally turning her gaze away from the young man. "But I intend to find out."

She stepped back, her mind already racing through possibilities. Lucious raised an eyebrow. "You sure you want to stick around here for too long? If this guy's tied to the Construct attack, we might end up with more trouble than we bargained for."

Elaine turned to face him, her expression hardening. "I didn't come all this way to leave without answers."

Captain Roderic cleared his throat, breaking the growing tension. "If you want to interrogate him, I can have him moved to a more secure location. We have a cell reserved for… unusual situations."

Elaine nodded, her mind already working through the next steps. "For now, keep him here. But I want constant monitoring. No one gets in or out without my say."

As they turned to leave, Elaine's thoughts lingered on the young man in the bed. She didn't believe in coincidences, and this felt far from one. Whether he was the key to uncovering the true cause of the War Construct's appearance, or something even darker, she had no intention of walking away until she had the truth.

As they exited the infirmary and stepped back into the cool morning air, Lucious nudged Elaine lightly with his elbow.

"You've got that look again," he said with a grin. "You know, the one that says you're about to stir up a hornet's nest?"

Elaine didn't answer right away. Instead, she glanced at the distant horizon, the golden glow of the sun reflecting off the kingdom's towers. Somewhere out there, hidden in the shadows, the answers she sought were waiting for her to find them.

And she would—whatever it took.

"Let's go see this 'survivor' again later," she said quietly, her eyes narrowing. "I think he's the key to everything."Elaine and Lucious made their way back to the barracks, their footsteps steady but laden with unspoken thoughts. The tension that had settled over the town was thick, and though the sun had risen and the streets were beginning to come alive, the shadow of the War Construct still loomed over them all.

Inside the barracks, Captain Roderic led them to a secure room where the young man—Kael—was being kept. He lay motionless on the cot, the faint rise and fall of his chest the only sign of life. Despite the bloodstains that marred his clothes and the deep gashes on his skin, his recovery had been nothing short of miraculous. His body had healed far too quickly for a normal person, and that alone set off every alarm in Elaine's mind.

"He's the one who was found near the battlefield?" Lucious asked, standing in the doorway with his arms crossed.

Roderic nodded, his expression grim. "Yeah. He was unconscious when we found him, just like I said. We've been monitoring him closely, but he hasn't woken up since we brought him in."

Elaine moved closer to the bed, her emerald eyes scanning Kael's face. There was something about him that pulled at her instincts, a faint energy radiating from him that felt... familiar. She couldn't place it, but it made her uneasy in a way that was hard to explain.

"His injuries should've killed him," Elaine muttered, more to herself than anyone else. "And yet here he is, healing faster than any mortal should be able to."

Lucious glanced over at the young man, raising an eyebrow. "So, what are you thinking? Dark magic? Some sort of forbidden technique?"

Elaine didn't answer immediately. She crouched next to the cot, her hand hovering just above Kael's shoulder. It wasn't the first time she'd encountered strange occurrences in her line of work, but something about this felt different. The magic around him wasn't just dark—it was... wild, untamed, and far too potent for someone who appeared as ordinary as he seemed. The sense of power that lingered in the air felt like it belonged to someone much more dangerous than a mere survivor.

"We'll need to keep him under guard," Elaine said, standing up slowly. "He's not just a casualty of the battle. There's more to him than that."

Lucious smirked, looking almost disappointed. "And here I thought we were going to find a nice, quiet case to handle. Guess not."

Elaine shot him a look that silenced him instantly. "This is far from over. I need to speak to him when he wakes up. If he has any answers, we need to know."

---

Hours passed, and as the day wore on, Kael remained unconscious. The small room in the barracks became a tense waiting area for Elaine and Lucious, who continued to monitor him from a distance. The town seemed to hold its breath as they waited for something—anything—that would explain the strange events surrounding the War Construct.

By nightfall, when the shadows grew long and the streets quieted, Kael finally stirred.

His eyes snapped open, glowing with an unnatural intensity. For a moment, everything around him seemed to blur as his vision adjusted, and he slowly sat up, wincing at the dull ache that still lingered in his body. His breath came in short, sharp gasps, but the deep exhaustion in his bones seemed to fade almost immediately as his body healed itself once again.

Elaine and Lucious, who had been sitting quietly in the corner, were on their feet in an instant.

"He's awake," Elaine said quietly, her eyes narrowing as she approached him slowly. "How do you feel?"

Kael's gaze shifted to her, his eyes sharp and calculating. "Like I've been through a war," he muttered, his voice rough. He flexed his hands, as if testing his strength. "But I'll survive."

Elaine studied him, her expression unreadable. "You're not just any survivor, are you? You healed far too quickly for a normal human."

Kael didn't respond immediately. Instead, he looked down at his hands, his fingers curling into fists as if he was trying to control something within himself. His jaw tightened, and for a moment, Elaine thought he might lash out, but he seemed to rein it in.

"I didn't ask for this," Kael said quietly, his voice heavy with something she couldn't place. "I just want to be left alone."

Lucious, who had been watching the exchange with his usual laid-back demeanor, finally stepped forward. "You're asking for a lot considering you just walked out of a battlefield, buddy. And it's not like we can just let you go after all that's happened."

Elaine held up a hand to stop him, her focus still entirely on Kael. "What happened out there? How did you survive?"

Kael's gaze hardened, and for a brief moment, his eyes flickered with something darker. "I don't know. I was just trying to survive. I didn't ask to be part of this." He exhaled sharply, as if trying to dismiss the thoughts racing through his mind. "But whatever it was that caused that Construct... it's tied to me now. I can feel it."

Elaine exchanged a glance with Lucious. "You've got a lot of answers we need, but you're not ready to share them, are you?"

Kael's silence spoke volumes. He wasn't ready, but whether he wanted to or not, he was already involved in something far bigger than him.

Elaine took a deep breath, knowing the answers were just out of reach. "Fine. We'll give you some time. But know this: you're not leaving until we get the full story."

Kael didn't say anything, but his gaze locked onto Elaine, a faint flicker of something unreadable in his eyes.

As the room grew still, the weight of his secrets hung in the air, thick with tension.

And deep within, Kael knew: whatever path lay ahead, he was already too far down it to turn back now.Kael's eyes scanned the room as he slowly regained his bearings. After the battle with the Construct, his body was battered, but he was already healing. The wounds weren't fatal, but they'd taken a toll. He could feel the dark magic swirling inside him, though, and he knew that it had only just begun to manifest in ways he couldn't fully control.

Groaning slightly, Kael pushed himself up and started pacing around the small room. His gaze flicked to the brown-haired woman and then to the white-haired man standing nearby. They were from the capital, no doubt—he could tell by their posture, the way they carried themselves. They weren't ordinary townsfolk. Their presence was far too deliberate, especially considering the Construct's appearance.

The woman's eyes were sharp and calculating, her every move betraying a cold focus. As Kael observed her, he could sense something—dark magic. It pulsed faintly from her, like a quiet storm just waiting to break. She wasn't someone who relied on Aura like most warriors, but something else entirely, something more dangerous.

The white-haired man, on the other hand, was more carefree. His relaxed posture, the slight smirk on his lips, all suggested he wasn't taking things too seriously. But Kael wasn't fooled. There was power there, a quiet strength that he could feel beneath the surface. Aura, maybe? Or even a Divine Blessing? He couldn't quite tell. But one thing was clear: neither of them were here by accident.

A sense of urgency rose in Kael's chest. He had to leave, he had to find the Hero of this timeline, the one who could explain why everything felt so different. Everything was already changing the moment he met these people.

Then a thought struck him, and his breath caught in his throat.

My sword. It's gone.

He glanced around, his eyes narrowing as he searched the cot he had woken in. The blade that had once been his constant companion was nowhere to be seen. They must've taken it, probably to ensure he wasn't a threat to them. He clenched his fists in frustration. It was the only thing that kept him grounded.

Kael turned his gaze back to the two strangers, his voice steady, though his mind raced. "What do you want to know?"Kael shifts uncomfortably on the cot, trying to ignore the pressure of their gaze. He knows they're waiting for answers, but he can't tell them everything, not yet. Not about the time manipulation, not about the truth of his existence.

Instead, he focuses on the attack he'd just endured.

"I've... fought the War Constructs before. This wasn't the first time," Kael starts, his voice steady despite the tension in the room. "They're dangerous. But this one was different. I couldn't sense any dark magic at first, and it shouldn't have appeared in that area."

Elaine narrows her eyes. "You fought it alone?"

Kael nods. "I didn't have a choice. I couldn't afford to wait for help."

The room falls silent for a moment, the weight of his words sinking in.

Lucious shifts his weight and gives a wry grin, clearly impressed. "You fought it alone, and lived to tell the tale. That's not something many people can do." His tone is light, but there's an edge of seriousness to it.

Kael meets his eyes, unflinching. "It's not about surviving. It's about stopping them from causing any more damage."

Elaine's gaze softens slightly. "I understand. But we need to figure out where they're coming from. There's something off about this one. You said it didn't have dark magic, but it appeared anyway. We need to know if there's more to this than we've seen so far."

Kael pauses, unsure how much more to say. He can't trust them fully, not yet. But... he also can't keep hiding. The town, the people—everything was at risk. He had to push forward, even if it meant taking risks.

"I don't know where it came from, but I know it's not over," Kael finally says, his voice firm. "If there's more, we need to stop it before it's too late."

Elaine and Lucious exchange a glance. Both of them seem to recognize the gravity of his words.

"You're right," Elaine says, breaking the silence. "We'll take care of it. But you need to rest. You've been through a lot."

Kael hesitates, feeling an odd mix of frustration and relief. He wanted to act, to take matters into his own hands, but part of him knew he couldn't keep pushing himself like this.

"I'll rest. For now," Kael mutters, closing his eyes for a brief moment, trying to ignore the ache in his body and the gnawing feeling in his mind.

He couldn't stop now. Not when everything had already started to change.Kael focuses his dark magic and aura, carefully combining strands of both powers to heal the ache in his body. The steady rhythm of his breathing fills the silence, offering a strange comfort amidst the constant chaos that usually surrounds him.

I need to get back to the ruins where the God of Fate's physical body resides. There has to be a way. I can't afford to lose track of that. His mind wanders for a moment, thoughts tangled with the lingering weight of his mission. I also need to grow stronger. That War Construct didn't give me much to work with—just shattered its core and absorbed what was left. But it's never enough.

He pushes the thoughts aside, focusing on his body. Finally, his wounds are healed, the ache dissipating completely. With a satisfied sigh, Kael stretches, the tension in his muscles easing as he regains full autonomy.

A dark red aura envelops his body, a sign of the slight increase in his power. It's a subtle difference, but one that feels solid and reassuring. He holds it for a moment, testing the strength of his aura, before allowing it to fade.

Kael then shifts his attention to the other two in the room. He takes a deep breath and looks directly at them, his eyes sharp with purpose.

"So, who are you two supposed to be?" he asks, his voice steady, with a hint of caution.Elaine and Lucious exchange a brief glance before Elaine steps forward, her sharp green eyes studying Kael with an unreadable expression. She folds her arms across her chest, standing tall as she addresses him.

"We're part of the Saints," she replies, her tone calm but firm. "We were sent here to investigate the appearance of the War Construct. You were found near the site, so we brought you in to make sure you weren't another threat."

Lucious, leaning casually against the doorframe, gives a small grin, though his eyes remain watchful. "The name's Lucious. And we're just trying to figure out what happened here. So, how about you tell us everything you know about that construct you fought?"

Kael considers their words for a moment, the question hanging in the air. His eyes flicker between the two of them, gauging their sincerity. They don't seem like immediate threats, but something about their presence unsettles him. Dark magic from her, and the relaxed confidence of the man with the white hair… they're not ordinary.

"Fine," Kael mutters, his gaze drifting to the floor as he tries to organize his thoughts. "The construct showed up out of nowhere. I was in a nearby town when it appeared, and I had to fight it off. But something felt wrong about it. It wasn't just a regular War Construct—it didn't even come from a typical source like ruins or dark magic fluctuations."

Lucious pushes off the doorframe and walks closer, intrigued. "What do you mean? You're saying it wasn't a regular construct?"

Kael's hands tighten into fists as he recalls the battle. "Exactly. It was different. No dark magic, no connection to any artifact that I could sense. It was like it was… summoned, for lack of a better word."

Elaine nods, her expression softening slightly. "And you didn't have any trouble fighting it? You seem like you've had your fair share of encounters with these things."

Kael clenches his jaw. "It wasn't easy, but I did what I had to. Once I shattered its core, I absorbed the remnants of its power. But it wasn't enough to heal me completely, not right away."

Lucious raises an eyebrow. "You absorbed the remnants of its core?"

"Yeah," Kael replies, a small, wry smirk tugging at his lips. "Seems like I have a unique way of healing."

There's a moment of silence as both Elaine and Lucious exchange a look, their curiosity piqued. Elaine steps back, sensing there's more to Kael's words than he's letting on.

"We'll need to investigate further, but for now," she says, "You'll stay here. We'll need to be sure you're not involved in whatever's behind all this."

Kael nods, his face hardening. "I'm not here to cause trouble. But I'm not staying locked up, either."

Lucious grins again, sensing Kael's stubbornness. "Don't worry. We're not here to babysit you. But if you're planning to go anywhere, you'll need our help to figure out what's going on with this construct."

Kael hesitates, then finally speaks, his voice quieter now. "I need to get stronger. That construct didn't leave me with much to work with. There's something bigger at play, something tied to these ruins."

Elaine watches him closely, her gaze sharpening as she considers his words. "Ruins? What ruins?"

Kael's eyes flicker to the window, his thoughts turning inward. "The place where the God of Fate's physical body resides. It's not far from here. I need to find a way to get there."

Elaine's expression remains unreadable, but Lucious raises an eyebrow. "God of Fate's physical body? Now that's a bit of a curveball. You sure you're not just chasing some old legends?"

Kael's eyes narrow, his tone firm. "I know what I felt. And if there's anything I've learned, it's that things are never as simple as they seem."

Elaine finally speaks again, her voice quieter but still commanding. "We'll get to the bottom of this. But right now, we need to focus on finding out what caused that War Construct to appear. Once we have more information, we'll decide what comes next."

Kael exhales slowly, his frustration still simmering beneath the surface. "Fine. But I'm not sticking around here forever. Once I have the answers, I'll do what I have to."

With that, the room falls into a tense silence, the weight of unspoken questions hanging in the air.

Kael strides toward the door, gripping the handle as he pulls it open. Without turning back, he speaks, his voice steady but firm.

"Where did they put my sword?"

Elaine steps forward, arms crossed, her sharp emerald eyes studying Kael's movements. "We secured it for safety reasons. You were unconscious and radiating both aura and dark magic—hardly the usual combination."

Lucious smirks, leaning against the wall. "Not to mention, you looked half-dead when they found you. What kind of guy walks away from a War Construct attack in one piece?"

Kael exhales through his nose, keeping his expression neutral. He doesn't have time to explain himself to them. "Where is it?"

Elaine watches him for a moment before gesturing toward the barracks. "The captain has it. But before we hand it back, you need to answer a few questions."

Kael clenches his jaw. He could force his way out, but that would draw unnecessary attention—and he still doesn't know what kind of abilities these two possess. For now, playing along is the best option.

He shuts the door and turns to face them. "Fine. Ask."

Elaine nods, stepping closer. "Start with your name."

Kael exhales. "Kael."

Lucious tilts his head. "Just Kael?"

Kael doesn't respond, his gaze unwavering.

Elaine narrows her eyes but moves on. "Tell us what happened. The report said the War Construct appeared without warning near the town's outskirts. By the time the guards arrived, you were the only one left standing."

Kael crosses his arms. "I was passing through when it attacked. I fought back. Simple as that."

Lucious raises an eyebrow. "You 'fought back' against a War Construct? Alone?"

Kael doesn't flinch. "Yes."

Elaine watches him carefully, analyzing every subtle shift in his stance. His story is straightforward, but something feels off. A lone traveler defeating a War Construct without support? Possible, but rare.

She exchanges a glance with Lucious, who gives a slight shrug, as if saying, He's hiding something, but what can we do about it?

Elaine folds her arms. "That's all?"

Kael meets her gaze evenly. "That's all."

A tense silence lingers in the room.

Finally, Elaine sighs. "Fine. But don't think that means we trust you. The captain still has your weapon. We'll escort you there."

Kael nods, concealing his relief. Getting his sword back is the first step—then, he can figure out his next move.

Lucious grins. "Alright, mystery man. Let's go retrieve your sword."

Elaine opens the door, motioning for Kael to follow. Kael steps out, his mind already working through possible escape routes, just in case.

He may be playing along for now, but his real mission is just beginning.

I follow behind them. I didn't mention the fight before the War Construct with a saint. The same as them. I guess it was a good thing not to mention it since they are allies. Then that would mean these 2 serve directly under the church, who serves the gods.

I stare at them as we continue walking to where my sword is being held. I could ask about the Hero though, he should also be a saint since he has a blessing from the God's

"Do you guys know anyone with dark blue hair and dark blue eyes? He has a blessing that allows him to be immune to dark magic manipulation on his mind."

Elaine glances at Kael, her expression unreadable. "That's... oddly specific."

Lucious, walking beside her, folds his arms behind his head. "Dark blue hair, dark blue eyes, immune to dark magic mind control… Yeah, that does sound familiar."

Kael keeps his face neutral, but his focus sharpens.

Elaine exhales. "If you're talking about who I think you are, then yes. There is a Saint with those features. Why are you asking?"

Kael considers his answer. He can't reveal too much. "Just curious. I've heard rumors."

Lucious chuckles. "Rumors, huh? Well, if you're looking for him, you'll have to wait. He's not in Persia right now. He left on a mission a few weeks ago."

Kael nods, hiding his disappointment. So the Hero is away... That complicates things.

Elaine stops in front of a reinforced door, guarded by two armored soldiers. "Your sword is in here. But before we return it, let me ask you something, Kael."

She turns to face him, her green eyes sharp. "You took down a War Construct alone. You show signs of dark magic, but you're not a Curse user. And now you're asking about one of the Saints. Who exactly are you?"

Kael meets her gaze, his mind racing.

He needs to choose his next words carefully.

I meet her gaze, my expression unwavering.

"Just someone who refuses to be held back or restricted by anything—and will do whatever it takes to achieve true freedom."

After saying this, I walk past them and down the hallway, leaving the barracks behind. Stepping outside, I tilt my head up, letting the sunlight warm my skin. The sky is clear, the town bustling as if nothing had changed—but for me, everything is different.

I glance around, taking in the familiar streets of my childhood. A part of me wonders if anyone has noticed the younger version of myself still living here. If they have, it could complicate things. I can't afford that right now.

Pushing the thought aside, I make my way toward the outskirts of town, retracing my steps to the battlefield where I fought the War Construct. The signs of destruction remain—deep gashes in the earth, broken weapons scattered around, and a few torn banners flapping in the breeze. But I don't stop.

I step past the splintered remains of a tree that took the brunt of the battle's force and continue into the dense forest beyond—the same path I was heading toward the night before.

I continue walking through the forest, tracing the path of destruction left behind by the battle. The scars stretch from the outskirts of town deep into the trees, a reminder of just how far the fight had spread. I exhale quietly, shaking my head before pressing forward.

The leaves crunch softly beneath my boots, the cool breeze weaving through the trees and rustling my hair. For once, the forest is calm—no enemies lurking in the shadows, no looming threats waiting to strike. Just the quiet rhythm of nature.

I wish it could always be like this. Maybe then, I wouldn't be on edge all the time.

I move deeper into the forest, my steps steady as I navigate the familiar terrain. The sounds of the town fade behind me, replaced by the rustling leaves and distant calls of wildlife. The farther I go, the more at ease I feel, yet my mind remains sharp, aware that peace like this never lasts long.

I need to get back to those ruins—the place where the God of Fate's physical body resides. That's where my real answers lie. But first, I have to figure out the best route. I don't have time to waste dealing with unnecessary fights or attracting unwanted attention.

As I push forward, I sense a faint fluctuation in the air—a ripple of energy, subtle yet distinct. I stop in my tracks, narrowing my eyes.

I'm not alone.

Someone, or something, is nearby.

Another War Construct? Already? It hasn't even been a full day! I tense, scanning the area, my senses honing in on the faint magic fluctuations that pulse through the forest. Whoever—or whatever—it is, it's deeper in the woods.

I push forward, moving swiftly, careful to mask my presence as I get closer to the source. My heart quickens, my instincts telling me that time is of the essence. Whatever is causing this disturbance could be far more dangerous than I anticipated.

I need to reach it before it's too late.

The trees blur past me as I move through the forest, my feet barely making a sound against the ground. The deeper I go, the stronger the magic pulses, dark and erratic, like a heartbeat thrumming in the air. My senses are on high alert, each step bringing me closer to whatever's causing this disturbance.

The forest grows denser, the sunlight barely breaking through the thick canopy above. Then, I hear it—a faint, guttural sound, the low rumble of a Construct stirring. I quicken my pace, pushing through the underbrush, adrenaline sharpening my senses.

Finally, I break into a small clearing, and there it is. A War Construct, but unlike any I've encountered before. This one is larger, its body twisted and deformed, dark magic swirling around its core. The ground beneath it trembles with each movement, and its eyes glow with an unsettling red hue.

I've never seen one this unstable.

I take a step forward, my hands instinctively reaching for the dark energy coiling inside me, preparing for the fight ahead. But I'm not alone. The air feels heavier, charged with the presence of something—or someone—else nearby.

I glance around, trying to sense if there's another force at play here.

Whatever this thing is, it won't be easy to deal with.

I charge forward, my muscles tense and my mind laser-focused on the construct's core. The unstable energy radiating from it threatens to tear the ground beneath me apart, but I can't afford hesitation. If I don't get to it in time, the entire forest—and probably the surrounding town—will be wiped out in a catastrophic explosion. Even I wouldn't survive that.

I push harder, my aura surging around me, enveloping my body in a protective cocoon. It propels me forward faster than I've ever moved before, the air whistling past me as I close the distance. The War Construct's form looms larger, dark magic crackling like lightning along its twisted body.

At the last moment, I dive for its core, my hand outstretched. My fingers brush against the pulsating energy, and I grip it tightly, feeling the intense heat radiate from it. The power surges through my body, threatening to overwhelm me, but I anchor myself.

With a final, strained effort, I pull the energy into myself, absorbing it before the construct can fully complete its activation. The dark energy floods into me like a wave, the raw power coursing through my veins.

I stagger slightly, my body trembling under the immense strain, but I hold firm. The construct's body crumbles around me, its magic fizzling out as it collapses into nothingness.

For a moment, I stand there, breathing heavily, feeling the remnants of the dark power settle within me. It's a dangerous feeling—almost as if I've taken something too much for my body to handle—but I know I'll grow stronger from it.

The forest falls silent once again, the only sound my ragged breathing. I glance down at my hand, still trembling from the absorption, and then up at the clearing. The danger has passed… for now.

But there's no time to rest. I turn and begin walking back toward the town, my thoughts racing. Why was this War Construct here? Who— or what—sent it?

I need answers.

"Is it because of me?" I murmur to myself. The construct only appears where I am—if I stay near the town, it could return. The longer I'm here, the greater the risk that my presence will bring destruction to my home. I sigh, feeling the dark power coursing through me, and glance back toward the spot where the construct had manifested. I must leave. I'll unravel the mystery of these threats once I find the Hero of this timeline.

I turn and sprint deeper into the forest, determined to distance myself from the town. I can't allow my presence to endanger the people who deserve a peaceful life.

The world blurs around me as I run, trees and shadows merging into a shifting tapestry of movement. I leap onto a low branch and scramble upward, pausing to survey the path ahead. From this vantage point, I scan the dense canopy for a safe route. I need shelter—and perhaps a clue as to where the Hero might be.

Catching my breath, I focus on the familiar surroundings below. The forest is ancient here; the trees gnarled and twisted, and hidden among them lie relics of a long-forgotten past. I can almost sense that my destiny is intertwined with these ruins—the resting place of the God of Fate's physical form.

With cautious determination, I descend from the branch and weave silently through the undergrowth. Every step is measured; every rustle of leaves reminds me that danger could be lurking just beyond sight. But I push forward, fueled by the need to protect my home and the desperate hope of finding answers.

As I move deeper into the forest, the air grows cooler, and the landscape shifts. I notice a narrow trail leading toward a cluster of ancient stone ruins, half-swallowed by ivy and time. My heart quickens. This must be it—the place where forgotten power lingers, where I might finally learn the truth behind the War Constructs and my own cursed gift.

I quicken my pace, eager yet wary of what lies ahead. The journey is far from over, and danger looms in every shadow, but I know one thing: I will not be the reason my hometown falls. I will forge my own destiny—and in doing so, I will challenge fate itself.

With resolve burning in my chest, I set off down the narrow path, leaving behind the echoes of the past and the uncertainty of the present, stepping into a future that I intend to shape with my own hand.

I follow the narrow, winding trail that cuts through the heart of the forest. The ancient trees tower overhead, their gnarled branches weaving together to form a dense canopy that filters the sunlight into mottled patterns on the forest floor. Every step I take is deliberate, every sound—a snap of a twig, a rustle of leaves—heightening my vigilance.

The path eventually opens into a clearing dominated by a cluster of stone ruins. Time has not been kind to these relics; the once-proud walls now lie in crumbling disarray, half-swallowed by ivy and moss. The air here is cool, thick with a sense of old power and forgotten secrets. I can feel it pulsing in the very ground beneath my feet—the remnants of a force that once shaped the world.

My heart quickens. This must be the place. The ruins are rumored to be the resting grounds of the God of Fate's physical form, a nexus of divine energy that might hold the answers I seek. I approach cautiously, each step measured as I scan the crumbling structure for any signs of recent disturbance. The forest around me is eerily silent, as if nature itself is holding its breath.

I pause before a partially collapsed archway, running my fingers over ancient carvings worn smooth by time. The symbols speak of destiny, fate, and the delicate balance between mortal will and divine power. I close my eyes for a moment, letting the energy of the ruins seep into my bones, a silent promise of both danger and possibility.

I know I must find a way to tap into this power, to use it as a stepping stone toward breaking the chains that bind my world. But I also understand the risks. The closer I get to the source, the more I feel the pull of something dark and relentless—a reminder that every step I take is watched by forces beyond my control.

I push forward, determined to uncover the truth behind the War Constructs and my own cursed potential. The journey here is fraught with danger, but I cannot afford to let fear paralyze me. Not when my hometown, my family, and the very future of this world hang in the balance.

With each step deeper into the ruins, the air grows charged with anticipation. I feel the power of the old magic stir, mingling with my own dark aura—a fusion of will, pain, and defiance. I know that here, among these shattered stones, lies the key to reshaping my destiny.

And so, I press on.

The deeper I venture into the ruins, the more oppressive the air becomes. It feels as though the very stones beneath my feet are watching, listening. The silence is deafening, broken only by the occasional creak of ancient walls shifting, as if the ruins themselves are alive with the memory of a power long gone.

The path eventually leads me to a wide open chamber, the remnants of a grand altar at its center. Despite the erosion of time, I can feel the faint traces of something divine here. The stone is cold, yet there's a pulsing warmth emanating from beneath it, like the heartbeat of the world itself, echoing in the walls. My instincts flare, urging me to be cautious—but this is the place. This is where fate and time have intersected, and where I might finally confront whatever it is that holds me captive in this cycle.

I kneel before the altar, reaching out a hand to brush against the surface of the stone. The moment my skin makes contact, the air shifts. A whisper, faint at first, coils around my mind—distant, almost incomprehensible. A voice? No, not a voice—thoughts. Memories, fragments of a being greater than anything I've encountered. I pull my hand back instinctively, my heart racing.

I stand up slowly, my eyes scanning the room for any sign of the source. A low hum vibrates in the air now, like the quiet murmur of a distant storm. My gaze lands on the altar once more, where intricate, age-old carvings swirl in patterns that seem to shift and change as I look at them.

I feel it—the power is concentrated beneath the altar, deep within the stone. But there's something more—something… hidden. A darkness, buried beneath layers of divine energy and centuries of dust. A warning lingers at the edge of my thoughts, as if whatever slumbers beneath this altar was never meant to be disturbed.

But I have no choice. The constructs, the gods, the war—it's all connected. The very reason I was brought to this time must lie hidden in these ruins. My fate is bound to whatever lies here, whether I like it or not.

I step closer, determination hardening in my chest.

Taking a deep breath, I press my hands against the cold stone of the altar. The hum of energy intensifies, coursing through my fingertips and into my veins, filling me with both power and dread. My aura flares instinctively, wrapping around me like a second skin as I brace myself for whatever comes next.

The ground rumbles, faint at first, then louder as the altar cracks and shifts. The stone splits open with a deafening crack, revealing a dark, swirling vortex of energy at its core. It is not the same divine power I've encountered before, but something older. Something far more primal.

I feel the darkness beckoning. The pull of it is strong, but I refuse to let it claim me. I am not the puppet of fate, not anymore. With a firm grip on my willpower, I focus, forcing my aura to surge through me, pushing against the energy that tries to overwhelm me.

But it fights back.

The swirling vortex grows stronger, the shadows within it reaching out like tendrils of darkness, wrapping around my limbs, pulling me closer. I can feel it gnawing at my psyche, threatening to break my control. This is no simple power—this is the essence of fate itself, an entity that has shaped worlds and crushed those who sought to defy it.

And yet, I will not yield.

The struggle rages inside me, my will against the might of fate. My aura flares brighter, dark magic seeping through my veins as I focus every ounce of my strength into resisting the pull of the vortex.

It is only when I hear a voice—soft, distant, yet unmistakable—that I realize the true nature of this force.

"You... will never escape me."

The words echo through my mind like a cruel mockery.

But they only strengthen my resolve.

I close my eyes, focusing on the one thing that remains mine—my will. I am not bound to fate. I refuse to be its prisoner.

With a final, defiant cry, I push forward, using all of my power to shatter the vortex. The darkness screeches in protest, but it is too late. The vortex collapses inward, the energy dissipating into the air as the ruins fall silent once more.

I stand alone in the chamber, panting, drenched in sweat. The faint pulse of the divine energy still hums in the air, but the oppressive force is gone.

I've done it. For now.

But I know that this is only the beginning. Whatever the God of Fate had planned, I've only scratched the surface. And I won't rest until I've carved my own path—one that cannot be dictated by fate, gods, or constructs.

The world will change. And I will be the one to change it.

I look back at the open altar, peering inside to see if there's anything else hidden within. Finding nothing of immediate importance, I push the altar back into place, relieved for the moment. I deserve a brief respite after pushing it back, at least for now.

But as I sit on the altar, something shifts. My aura and dark magic flare up, reacting violently to the stone beneath me. I try to move, but it's too late. The grip of the altar tightens around me. A dark energy pulses from within, seeping into my body, connecting with my dark magic and aura.

Panic surges in my chest as I try to pull away, but it's futile. The energy's hold is relentless, crawling beneath my skin, wrapping around my veins, forcing itself into me. My teeth grind together, but I refuse to let it take control.

If it wants to become a part of me so badly... I think, fury rising within me. Then I'll take control of it myself.

My eyes narrow, my resolve hardening. I clench my fists and shout, pushing every ounce of my willpower into resisting the dark energy. "You won't control me!"

I growl through clenched teeth as I focus all my power on absorbing the dark energy. It resists fiercely, but I refuse to be overwhelmed by something so weak.

"AAAAAAGHHHHH!!" I roar, my body straining as the energy fights me at every turn. But I force it to submit under my will, pulling the energy into me, swallowing it whole. The struggle is intense, my muscles screaming in protest as my body absorbs the immense power.

My vision blurs as the energy tries to assert itself, a battle between my will and the darkness that refuses to be bound. My body trembles with the effort, my mind racing as I fight to maintain control.

Suddenly, everything goes still. I'm no longer in the ruins. I'm... somewhere else. A dream? An illusion?

The air around me is thick with power, heavy and suffocating. A presence looms behind me, massive and all-encompassing. I turn, and there it is—him. The true form of the God of Fate. His presence fills the space, his form an abomination, a twisting mass of godly power and unyielding authority. His eyes, glowing with unnatural light, lock onto me, and I can feel the weight of his gaze pressing into my soul.

"You..." His voice is not just heard, but felt, deep within my bones. The very essence of fate, impossible to escape, echoing in every word.

But I won't yield.

Gripping my sword tightly, its red-hot blade glowing with a mix of my aura and dark magic, I take a step forward, then another. I feel the power coursing through me, an unfamiliar strength that is somehow both mine and not mine at the same time.

I raise my sword, every step bringing me closer to this towering entity. Then, without hesitation, I charge forward, my legs pumping furiously, each stride bringing me closer to my target. My speed increases until I'm moving faster than I've ever moved before, hurtling through the air with nothing but rage and defiance in my heart.

I reach him, and with a final burst of energy, I leap, aiming my sword directly at one of his enormous, glowing eyes.

"This will be the end of you, Fate!" I shout, my voice a roar of unbridled fury as I slash toward him, the power of my aura and dark magic converging in the strike.

This is it. This is where I carve my own path.

The sword slices through the air, the weight of my resolve driving it forward, and for a brief moment, I feel like I've crossed a threshold—like I'm about to shatter something that has held the world in its grasp for too long.

The God of Fate's gaze doesn't waver. Time itself seems to stretch as the blade nears his eye, the glow of his divine essence flickering around it. But I can feel something—the sense of inevitability, of the universe bending to his will, trying to redirect my attack. He is Fate, after all.

But I won't be shackled. I won't be dictated by him.

With a scream of determination, I force all of my power into the strike. My sword, glowing brighter than ever before, crackles with the combined might of my aura and dark magic. The blade cuts into the God's eye, the resistance of his divine form struggling to hold it back, but I won't stop.

The connection between us deepens—his energy surges against mine, the sheer weight of his divine nature attempting to crush me beneath it. But I refuse to back down. The more he fights, the more I push forward, my mind focused on one thing—freedom.

The sword digs deeper into the eye, and I can feel the presence of the God begin to shift. He recoils slightly, a deep tremor of uncertainty passing through him, the first time I've felt him lose any control over the moment.

"You..." he growls, a deep, resonant sound that shakes the very fabric of this place. "You dare—"

But before he can finish, I twist the blade. It's not just a strike anymore; it's an assertion of my will, an imprint of my defiance. The God of Fate, with all his power, has underestimated the force of someone who refuses to accept the path laid before them. The world might bend to his will, but I will carve my own.

The sword's edge finally meets something far deeper than flesh. It digs into the very essence of Fate, into the strands of control he has over reality. For a moment, the entire illusion flickers—the world quaking as if my strike has destabilized the very foundation of his domain.

The God of Fate lets out a deafening roar, his form flickering with rage, but it's too late. I can feel the connection between us shattering, the fabric of his power breaking as I draw more of it into myself. I stand my ground, absorbing the energy as it fights against me, but it no longer has the strength to resist.

With one final push, I force his power into my body. My veins burn with its intensity, and my heart races as if it might burst from the weight of it. But I hold on. I hold on because I won't let him control me any longer.

I close my eyes, breathing heavily, but there's a new sense of clarity in the air around me. The illusion fades, the God of Fate's presence no longer looming over me. Instead, I'm left standing, holding the sword in my hands, breathing deeply.

The energy in me is overwhelming, but it's mine. I've claimed it. The God of Fate's grip on reality wavers, and for the first time, I feel like I'm the one in control.

This... this is my rebellion. And I will not stop until I carve my own fate.

My body is still straining to contain the immense power of the God of Fate. After all, he was the one who controlled the fate of every living being on earth. I know the other gods will soon take notice, but I can't afford to think about that right now.

I sit up on the altar, leaning against it as I struggle to control the surging power within me. With Fate gone, I know someone will try to take his place, but I will not allow that to happen. With his power now a part of me, and with Fate itself shattered, I can finally break free.

For the first time in a long time, I smile. A wave of relief washes over me. The chains that once held me are gone, and for the first time, I feel like I can breathe.

I close my eyes, allowing the stillness to envelop me. The weight of everything I've fought for, all the pain, the suffering, and the constant struggle, finally eases. And as the darkness claims me, I pass out from exhaustion, knowing that, in this moment, I am truly free.

The world around me fades into nothingness, my body giving in to the exhaustion. Yet even in this dark void, I sense the lingering power, the godly presence inside me. It's a strange feeling—like I'm tethered to something larger, something beyond this world. But at the same time, I can feel my will, my strength, refusing to let go.

Hours, or maybe days later, I awaken. The sensation of power is still there, but it's quieter now, more subdued. I open my eyes, the faint light of the ruins illuminating the space around me. The alter, the remnants of the battle, and the echoes of Fate's power still hang in the air.

I stand, the weight of the godly energy inside me no longer an overwhelming torrent, but a simmering force I now command. It feels like an extension of myself, like it was always meant to be a part of me.

The god of fate is gone, and with him, the chains that bound the world to destiny have shattered. But I know this power isn't mine alone to wield—it has the potential to change everything. The gods won't let this go unnoticed, and soon, others will come. Not all of them will be allies. Some will likely see my existence as a threat. They'll come for me, for the power I now carry.

But I'm not afraid.

I stand tall, pushing the exhaustion aside, my body invigorated by the new power coursing through my veins. I step forward, leaving the ruins behind. The path ahead is uncertain, but for the first time in my life, the future is mine to shape.

I will carve my own fate, free from the strings that once controlled me. And no god will stand in my way.

I walk out of the ruins with a smirk on my face, feeling lighter than I have in a long time. The power of the God of Fate still hums within me, but it's no longer overwhelming. It's mine now. I walk deeper into the forest, leaving the ruins behind, passing the boundary of the Persian Kingdom.

As I emerge from the forest, the vast, open plain unfolds before me, its tall green grass swaying gently in the breeze. The sight is peaceful—so different from the tension of the past few days. In the distance, the sea stretches out, its surface glistening under the sun. I take a deep breath, the cool air feeling refreshing on my skin.

I walk across the field, relishing the sense of freedom that comes with being out in the open like this. There's no battle, no looming enemy. Just me, the earth, and the horizon.

As I approach the edge of the ocean, the faint sound of the waves crashing against the shore is calming. I squat down at the water's edge, dipping my hands into the cool water. I haven't eaten or drunk anything for days, but I don't feel hungry or thirsty. The power within me seems to suppress those normal needs, almost like it's absorbing everything I would need on its own.

I splash some of the water on my face, the cool sensation grounding me. I look up again, eyes squinting against the sunlight. Some of the water trickles down into my mouth.

"Eugh... salty," I mutter, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.

Even in moments like this, it's hard to ignore the weight of what I've done—and what's to come.