Kael wanted answers. Not guesses. Not promises.
He wanted to find the sword his mother once spoke about, buried somewhere unreachable…
But right now, he had no clue where to start.
And after the brutal attack on the base, he knew one thing for sure:
Before he found the sword, he needed to find who sent the enemy.
The answer came faster than expected.
Days after the battle, Caziel and a few scouts intercepted encrypted messages from captured enemies.
Burn sigils… Glow sigils… all marked with the same terrifying insignia:
A jagged fang, dripping black ink.
The Black Fangs.
A name that carried fear across the land. Merciless. Precise. Ruthless.
A faction made up of the strongest rogue sigil users—outlaws, assassins, and fallen elites. No loyalty. No mercy.
Just a hunger to dominate every known ranking and erase any threat to their growing control.
The attack on the base? It was just one of many.
"They're testing us," Caziel growled during the strategy meeting. "Picking off strong sigils. Pushing us into a corner."
"But we're not cornered," Kael said coldly. "We're hunting now."
With information extracted from a captured scout,
they located a remote outpost of the Black Fangs deep inside a ravaged canyon, surrounded by ruins scorched by centuries of war.
It was time.
Kael, still weakened from the last fight, chose to hide the pain he felt.
His body was starting to betray him—time manipulation was causing fractures in his mind and soul.
So this time, he would fight without it.
Just healing. Just telekinesis. Just pure determination.
Yuna stood ready beside him, her Burn Sigil glowing like molten veins under her skin.
Caziel led the charge, spear in hand, his steps calm and deadly.
With them were the Branders—a squad of fierce survivors from the hidden base, loyal to the end.
Among them were three Glow sigils and a handful of Burn warriors, each scarred by battle, each with their own reasons to fight.
They moved like shadows.
And when they reached the Black Fangs' base, they attacked like a storm.
But it was a trap.
The Fangs had been waiting.
Dozens of sigil warriors swarmed from the stone walls—more than expected. Far more.
Kael's team was outnumbered 5 to 1.
Kael didn't freeze time. He didn't need to.
Instead, he gritted his teeth through the pain in his arm, focused on his healing ability to keep himself and allies standing,
and hurled his enemies with raw telekinetic force.
Burn warriors tried to scorch the Fangs from a distance while Glow sigils lit up the battlefield in blinding waves.
Yuna launched into the fray, her hands wreathed in flame, carving paths through enemies while Caziel moved like a phantom,
his spear dropping one after the other with brutal precision.
The Branders held the line. Bodies fell. Flames rose.
Kael fought like a storm held back too long.
His powers were raw, unstable but focused.
His telekinesis was fierce, smashing enemies against canyon walls and lifting entire stone slabs as shields.
But even then… they were still losing ground.
And the worst part?
This wasn't even their main base.
Just an outpost. A taste of the full force that was coming.
But Kael knew one thing—if they didn't stand now, if they didn't push back, they'd never get another chance.
And still, in the back of his mind…
That whisper.
That vision of his mother.
That unreachable sword.
And a feeling that the Fangs… were looking for it too.