Nyros began flying at full speed, Kael still screaming violently in his arms. His body writhed uncontrollably, twisting as if the pain were tearing him apart from the inside. Suddenly, their path was blocked by a man hovering in the sky—arms behind his back, standing still as if he had been waiting for them all along.
Nyros froze midair, his eyes widening in quiet shock.
"The Keepers of Silence…" he whispered internally.
These were no ordinary guards. They were the guardians of the Lower District—those who protected the prison and the burial grounds. They answered to no one from the Middle District or even the Great Families. They were chosen by the Blood Law itself.
The man before him was tall, his face calm but devoid of expression. His lips were sewn shut with black thread, as if his silence were law. His hair was ash-gray, leaning toward white, and his hands were clasped behind his back.
Nyros braced himself immediately. The appearance of one of them could only mean one thing: danger.
After all, he and Kael had escaped the prison… and Kael had just been chosen.
That alone could bring upon them the curse of blood itself.
But then, the unexpected happened.
From the man came gentle, silent waves—rippling softly through the air. Not sound, but feeling. These were "Internal Pulses"—a unique form of communication that carried meaning not through words, but encoded emotion. Fear. Safety. Joy. Warning… Each pulse bore a message, and anyone who had walked the Path of Blood learned to read them from childhood.
And the Keepers of Silence? They mastered them beyond any living being—for they never spoke.
Nyros felt the waves slip into him—a clear message:
"Follow me… to safety."
He froze, stunned.
Wasn't he supposed to be arrested now? Dragged back into the prison? Tortured until he forgot his name?
Yet this Keeper was offering him protection?
Despite the doubts, he had no choice.
If the Keeper wanted to kill him… he would've done it already.
So the man flew ahead, and Nyros followed, Kael still unconscious in his arms.
*****
Minutes later, they landed in a barren area—far from watchful eyes, far from the sound of prison walls.
There were no buildings here.
Only a massive door embedded in a black wall, from which a glowing red mist drifted—as though blood itself breathed from within.
In front of the door, a great sword was embedded in the ground, glowing with the same ominous hue, as if guarding something older than the world.
Not far away sat a massive man, broad-shouldered, with long violet hair cascading down his back. On his muscular arms were strange glowing markings—not tattoos, but symbols etched deep into his skin. His presence broke the silence like a roar through stillness.
The Keeper of Silence walked up to him and stood at his side. They didn't speak… but it was clear they were exchanging internal pulses. They weren't directed toward Nyros, so he couldn't sense them.
Then the giant turned toward them, a faint smile on his face.
Two black horns protruded from his head.
Nyros froze.
"What… is that creature? I've never heard of anything like him…"
The man spoke, his voice deep and calm:
"Come closer, boy."
But Nyros couldn't move.
It wasn't just fear—his body wouldn't allow it.
The aura coming from this man wasn't just energy… it was a presence. Heavy. Suffocating. As if even the air refused to pass near him.
"Blood God… what stage is he at?"
The natural path of strength climbed up to the Ninth Stage. Nyros had only recently stepped into the Third, forming his core just before entering prison.
Yet this man… he was easily at the Eighth. Maybe beyond.
Nyros had met Fifth and even Sixth Stage warriors… but this presence felt nothing like them.
Sweat poured from his body. His eyes widened in silent disbelief.
The man laughed and said:
"Relax. I won't hurt you. I came to help."
But the moment he stood…
A wave exploded from him—stronger, denser—and Nyros collapsed to the ground, unconscious.
The Keeper of Silence stepped forward, fury flashing in his stitched expression. He raised a finger, pointing in silent reprimand.
"Don't scold me like that!" the man said, raising his hands. "I didn't mean to hurt him."
*****
Kael and Nyros awoke at the same time.
Kael slowly opened his crimson eyes… but peace didn't greet him. Not even for a moment.
His head throbbed violently, and within it, voices echoed. No… wails. Cries. Suffering. As if dozens of spirits were moaning inside his mind.
"What's happening to me…?"
He lifted his head and saw Nyros unconscious beside him. A giant man sat nearby, and the Keeper of Silence stood watchfully beside him, both observing Kael.
"What did I do this time…?"
The seated man spoke, his smile calm—but on his hulking frame, it looked almost sinister:
"Welcome back, little one."