Chapter 9 – Into the Fog Alone

Kael remained with the party—for now.

He moved with quiet discipline, his presence barely noticeable among the more outspoken and seasoned hunters. He responded when spoken to, followed formation orders, helped eliminate beasts that came too close. But inside, his thoughts were like sharpened blades- focused, calm, and waiting.

Not yet… I need the right moment. Not when eyes are watching.

That moment came faster than expected.

The group had stopped for the evening—exhausted, yet wary. Rehn had chosen a wide clearing, encircled by tree roots and thick mist. A small fire was sparked to stave off the cold, and the hunters rested in rotating watches. Kael sat apart, cross-legged, his mind already mapping a route through the fog.

Then the beasts came.

Low growls echoed from the treeline—followed by snarls and snapping branches. The fog shifted, shadows emerging. They were surrounded.

"Positions!" Rehn barked, already drawing his blades.

Kael didn't move with them.

Instead, as the others turned toward the danger, Kael slipped sideways—through a narrow gap in the roots, sliding into the deeper fog like a shadow made flesh. He didn't run—he melted into the mist.

They're too busy to notice one less fighter, he thought coldly.

This is it.

Behind him, the sounds of battle rang out—steel clashing, soul energy flaring, beasts shrieking. Rehn's voice thundered above the chaos, commanding his team with precision.

But Kael didn't look back.

Elsewhere in the Fogveil Ring, Kael moved with silence honed from experience. His senses, sharpened by both instinct and training, picked up every flicker of movement in the dense fog.

He didn't have to wait long.

A pack of lean, four-legged creatures with glowing veins and jagged fangs—broke through the brush in front of him. Their formation was crude but effective: two flankers, three frontal attackers.

Kael exhaled slowly and shifted into stance. His grip tightened around the obsidian-black scythe, the weapon humming softly with soul resonance.

The first beast leaped towards him.

But Kael didn't flinch.

With a flick of his wrist, his body shifted left and a faint afterimage stayed behind as Kael blurred to the side, the beast snapping at empty air. He slid behind it and sliced upward in a clean, arcing strike. One down.

Another came from his left and this time faster.

He spun, keeping low. His blade moved in a precise crescent, catching the beast under its jaw and lifting it off the ground before it hit the dirt, lifeless. Kael stepped back, breathing evenly, already reading the next attackers.

A third came in too fast.

He dropped to one knee, planting his scythe in the soil, twisting the pole in a defensive spiral to redirect the impact. He rolled out of the way and struck again, splitting the creature's back with an upward cleave.

Three down. Two remaining.

Kael didn't waste energy. Every movement was intentional, Strategic, and Controlled.

Another beast lunged at him and Kael used his environment, leaping onto a root and over its head, then driving his scythe down into the base of its neck.

Only one left and it hesitated, but Kael was already in motion.

Shadow Flicker.

He blurred again, this time into a spin, and ended it with a diagonal slash that severed spine and skull.

Silence returned to the fog.

Then—a faint chime.

[System Alert: CE Units Absorbed: +100]

[Current Total: 460 / 1000]

Kael stood in the stillness, blood slowly dripping from his blade. His chest rose and fell in calm rhythm—not from exertion, but from exhilaration.

This… this is what I need.

To fight smart. To grow stronger. To rise beyond limits others have shackled me with.

He cleaned his blade on a nearby root, eyes gleaming with a fierce glint.

The tide may drown others... but it will carry me forward.

The fog curled tighter around him, and Kael walked deeper into it—alone, but far from lost.

****

Kael had become a ghost in the fog.

For days, he hunted alone, carving his own path through the deepening chaos of the Fogveil Ring. His routine had solidified into a pattern—hunt by day, absorb soul energy by dusk and train at dawn. Every beast he felled fed his system, every core pushed him closer to the invisible wall of transformation.

His blade moved like a whisper through flesh. He learned how to silence the crunch of his steps, how to read shifts in the fog, how to ambush predators before they even sensed him. He had become the predator.

And as the days passed, the chaos energy—once strange and foreign in his body—now coursed through his veins like a second bloodstream.

520… 670… 810…

Each CE unit absorbed didn't just bring him closer to the system's milestone—it altered him. The mutations came subtly: his reflexes faster, his muscle recovery near-instant, and most strangely, his affinity—once faint and average—now crackled with raw potential.

His soul weapon responded faster to his will, and the first skill he had once needed to focus to activate now came with a thought, a breath, a pulse.

But strength wasn't the only thing growing.

So were the beasts.

And something was different.

The packs he once hunted had begun moving together, more organized than natural creatures should be. Kael observed from the treetops—a horde, dozens deep, unified not by instinct but by a purpose.

They're not wandering anymore... They're marching.

South. Toward Greyveil.

Kael crouched silently,

Below him, the forest floor trembled under the rhythmic movement of claws and paws. The beasts were no longer individual threats. They were now one tide, a rolling storm of flesh and fang.

His eyes narrowed.

If I stay any longer, I won't be hunting—I'll be drowning.

It was time to return.

But his fingers twitched.

980… 990…

So close…

Meanwhile, back in Greyveil Town, the atmosphere had shifted from tense to frantic.

The town gates groaned with traffic—soul hunters staggering in from missions, some bloodied and unconscious, others supporting wounded teammates. Medics and town guards flooded the entrances, guiding the injured toward clinics that were rapidly reaching capacity.

The Hunter's Guild was in chaos.

The once orderly place now echoed with shouts, groans. Tables were piled high with beast cores. Hunters crowded the boards where new missions were posted, their eyes dark with exhaustion and fear.

Layla worked the desk with rapid urgency, her hands blurring as she signed reports, logged core trades, and relayed updates.

"…fog's denser than ever…"

"…packs are forming… they're marching now…"

"…a third-rank nearly got torn apart—said the beasts are acting like soldiers…"

"…this isn't just a tide, it's a warpath."

The town had entered a state of emergency.

Guards manned every watchtower. Engineers worked around the clock to reinforce the Soul Barrier, fed by the very cores Kael and the other hunters risked their lives to collect. Caravans carrying civilians out of the town were already being considered.

The fogveil tide had become a looming tsunami.

The Hunter Council convened behind locked doors.

Rumors buzzed in hushed tones—about beasts evolving, about scouts going missing, about a potential feral beast lord awakening in the deeper zones of the ring.

Outside, the wind howled, and the mist thickened.

And somewhere out there—Kael moved silently toward the edge of the Ring, his system pulsing with a growing storm.

System Alert Incoming…

[CE Unit Threshold: 1000/1000 – Evolution Imminent]