Kael's hand trembled as he took a single sip from the vial.
It was just enough to keep him on his feet.
Barely.
He had no illusions.
Even if he drank the whole potion, it wouldn't change the outcome.
These mages were Rank 2—far beyond his current capabilities.
A Rank 1 like Kael could never defeat them.
So, with grim resolve, he made his choice.
He poured the rest of the healing potion into the hands of the one person who could shift the tide—the Divine General.
His new ally.
The fearsome warrior whose name was whispered across every shadowed corner of Velmora.
Now, the General stood before him—body whole again, eyes sharp with terrifying clarity.
He looked down at Kael, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his face.
Then, in a low growl, he asked:
"Who are you?"
Kael's lips curved into a cold, knowing smile.
He stood—barely—but unshaken.
"I'm... the Devil."
No flourish. No theatrics.
Just raw, unshakable certainty.
His gaze met the General's, unwavering, even as blood traced thick rivulets down his cheek.
His body was broken, but there was no weakness in his stance.
The General's eyes widened for the briefest second.
The Devil?
His lips parted, but no words came.
Then he grinned—slowly.
A dark, ominous smile that promised destruction.
"Well then… things are about to get interesting."
Kael nodded slowly.
He turned to the dozen mages still frozen in the chamber—those who had watched everything unfold in stunned silence.
"Kill them all," Kael said.
His voice calm.
Steady.
The mages, once brimming with arrogance, felt their hearts lurch in terror.
Because the General—the Divine General—was no longer broken.
He was reborn.
A force of nature.
And nature had turned on them.
Before they could react, the General moved.
With a flick of his wrist, two orbs of black lightning exploded into existence—dark, unstable, crackling with wrath.
They launched like missiles.
The room filled with thunder.
In a flash, the dozen Rank 2 mages were gone—reduced to ash and smoke, their screams lost to the roar of power.
Kael stood frozen.
Staggered.
The sheer weight of that power was overwhelming.
The General wasn't just restored—he was transcendent.
"You should've fought me in this form, boy," the General said with a dry chuckle, as if this was all a game.
Kael said nothing.
But then Yue's voice cracked through the silence—panicked, sharp:
"More are coming. Veyran isn't far behind!"
Kael cursed under his breath.
His mind raced.
Escape, escape, escape.
Then—a heavy hand landed on his shoulder.
He stiffened instantly.
The General leaned in, voice low and commanding:
"Autumn Fade."
Kael blinked.
His gaze dropped to the floor—and his blood ran cold.
His feet were dissolving.
Turning into swirling leaves—amber, crimson, gold.
What the hell—
He tried to move.
Tried to scream.
But his throat locked, his limbs unraveling into a vortex of falling leaves.
His body vanished, piece by piece, swept into the storm of autumn.
Yue's voice broke through again, frantic:
"It's teleportation!
Don't fight it, Kael—just let it happen!"
But it was already too late.
The General, now caught in the same swirl, dissolved beside him.
They vanished together—as if they'd never existed.
Only a faint trail of golden leaves remained.
Then—
Veyran arrived.
A breath too late.
He stepped into the silent chamber, his heart pounding.
He looked down.
Only leaves.
His jaw clenched.
Rage boiled to the surface.
"That bastard… he escaped."
A low curse escaped him.
His fists trembled.
But worse than the failure itself was the thought that followed—
His father.
What would he say when he learned that the Divine General—the very man they'd broken, chained, and silenced—had not only risen... but vanished?
Veyran's stomach twisted.
He could already hear the scorn in the old man's voice.
"Incompetent."
A cold shiver ran down his spine.
And then—his thoughts turned darker.
Maybe... it was time to stop fearing that voice.
Maybe it was time to silence it.
For good.
His eyes narrowed, the ember of rebellion flaring to life in his chest.
"Soon," he muttered under his breath.
"Very soon, Father."
He turned sharply to the stunned mages behind him.
Most were still frozen, unsure whether to flee or speak.
Veyran's voice cracked like a whip:
"What are you all gawking at?
They couldn't have gone far—spread out!"
He hesitated.
Then, more coldly:
"Scour the entire duchy if you have to.
Burn fields. Break wards. Tear down stone.
I want every shadow overturned."
A beat passed before he added, quietly but firmly:
"But do not—do not—let the people know it was the Divine General who escaped."
He glanced down at the fading remnants of leaves.
If word got out that the Devil had restored a forgotten war god...
That the legend had returned...
***
High above the city, atop the roof of a long-abandoned building, the air shimmered.
Then—a storm of autumn leaves began to gather, spinning into two human shapes.
With a rush of wind, Kael materialized first, his body collapsing forward as if the world itself had betrayed him.
"AAAAAH—!" he shouted, tumbling to his knees, clutching his head.
His vision spun. His stomach churned.
Teleportation.
His first time.
And it felt like being torn apart and stitched together in the sky.
"What the hell was that?!" he gasped, chest heaving.
"I thought my liver ended up in my throat!
You could've warned me, bastard!"
The Divine General merely stared at him, expression unreadable.
Yue rushed to Kael's side, wrapping her arms around him tightly.
"Calm down, Kael—just breathe.
You're okay."
Kael exhaled hard, shaking.
Slowly, his muscles relaxed beneath her hold.
The General finally spoke—dry, unimpressed:
"You must act like your name."
Kael glared at him, still panting.
"…What was that spell?"
The General turned, his cloak billowing in the wind.
"Autumn Fade — a Rank 3 soulbound teleportation spell.
Easily deceives low-rank mana sensors.
Looks like nothing more than leaves on the wind."
Kael's breath caught.
Soulbound.
His eyes went wide.
He'd read about them—rare spells that grew alongside their caster, evolving, ascending.
They have the potential to reach Rank 9, making them invaluable treasures.
Suddenly, the General's past made sense.
The endless torture, the obsession with his body and mind.
"Is that why they carved you up?"Kael asked quietly.
The General nodded faintly.
"It's one of the reasons."
Then silence.
He offered nothing more.
Kael scoffed internally.
Playing the mysterious war god, huh?
But the amusement didn't last.
His body stilled.
Something shifted.
The wind changed.
The air grew heavier.
Even Yue stopped smiling, her ghostly form tense.
The General sensed it too.
Kael took a step forward, voice low, serious:
"Swear your loyalty to me, General."
Silence fell.
This wasn't a request.
Kael's eyes burned with something deeper than command—paranoia, shaped by betrayal, shaped by a world where power shifted like sand.
He didn't trust words.
Not unless they were spoken under divine binding.
In Velmora, warriors swore loyalty in the name of the War God—and if they did, the god would bestow strength, clarity, and purpose.
But if that vow was broken…
The punishment came not from man.
But from the heavens.
Kael didn't say it outright.
But the message was clear:
Swear, or leave.
He had healed the General, trusted him.
But he wouldn't gamble the future on vague alliances.
Yue said nothing.
She simply watched.
All eyes turned to the Divine General.
The wind held its breath.
And then—
"No," he said quietly.
"I can't."
The rooftop went still.