He didn't smile. He laughed.
A low, rising laugh—hollow, distant, demonic.
In this dream, Kael wasn't just building a haven.
He was laying the foundation for an unseen empire.
Kael's laughter echoed through the strange stillness of the realm, wild and untamed, as if something deep within him had finally cracked free.
The sound eventually faded, leaving behind an awkward silence.
When he opened his eyes, he found both Selene and Yue staring at him.
He coughed, suddenly self-conscious. "What?"
Selene let out a quiet sigh, her expression somewhere between resignation and mild exasperation.
"I'm getting used to it… I think," she murmured.
Yue shook her head, her silver gaze narrowing slightly.
"You really are losing it."
Kael gave them a sheepish grin, brushing a hand through his hair.
"Well, maybe just a little."
A moment passed in silence before Selene's expression turned more serious.
"So… who are you planning to bring in first?" she asked.
Kael's gaze drifted upward, thoughtful.
"I think… I can maintain this realm for around thirty minutes—if there's no combat, of course. That's my limit for now."
"And in that window," he added, "I could probably manage to bring in two more people without compromising stability. For now."
Selene nodded, absorbing the information.
"That's not much, but it's a start."
She looked off into the distance, her voice quiet, contemplative.
"In our kingdom, the Night Goddess Church and the War God Temple are the only major institutions still holding ground. All the sects and clans have already shifted to the Empire, especially after the mana veins started drying up."
Yue crossed her arms.
"So we have to be careful about who we approach. We can't afford to waste even a single slot."
Kael nodded slowly, the weight of his own limitations pressing down on him.
Selene gave a small nod. "Alright. I'll begin investigating the best candidates."
Kael looked at her and smiled faintly. "Of course. You're the best"
The edges of the dream realm began to ripple, the illusion unraveling like mist in the wind.
A heartbeat later, the realm shattered—dissolving into light.
***
Some time later, Kael sat alone in the quiet of his chamber, hunched over a black stone the size of his wrist.
Its surface was smooth yet strangely uneven, like cooled magma.
He rubbed it with a cloth again and again, polishing it with a strange intensity—each stroke careful, reverent.
There was no visible change. No glow. No crack. No warmth.
Still, he persisted.
Hovering nearby, Yue floated lazily in the air, arms folded, head tilted.
"Are you sure that's even an egg?" she asked, eyebrow raised.
Kael didn't answer at first. His gaze remained fixed on the black stone. In truth, he was more certain than he let on—he'd used a Beast Taming Card on it.
The card had activated.
And acknowledged it.
"Yes," he said quietly.
Yue narrowed her eyes. "It looks like a river rock. A cursed one."
Kael didn't respond.
A sudden idea struck him. He blinked. Slowly sat up straighter.
"…What if it needs to eat?" he muttered aloud.
Yue looked at him like he'd grown antlers. "Eat?"
But Kael was already on his feet, tucking the black object into a cloth pouch.
"No time. Come on."
"Where are you going?"
"Mount Veilpire."
Yue groaned, floating after him.
"Why is it always the creepy places with you?"
He waved her off as he hailed a carriage.
The ride to Mount Veilpire was long and silent.
Shadows stretched long across the land as twilight deepened, and the mountain loomed like a sleeping beast on the horizon.
Yue hovered beside him, arms crossed, visibly tense.
"I really don't like it here."
"We're not going near the temple," Kael said. "We just need something… alive."
Soon, the two of them found a beast—a horned brute the size of a horse, rank one at most. It was grazing alone near the treeline. A weak target.
Kael didn't hesitate.
His Arcanum Vortex lared—a spiral of dark energy—and in a blink, the beast's head erupted in a violent spray. The body collapsed, twitching.
Blood soaked into the mossy earth.
Yue flinched. "Subtle," she muttered.
Kael didn't answer. He stepped over the body, knelt, and carefully placed the black stone into the widening pool of blood.
Then he waited.
The woods fell silent.
Yue hovered nearby, watching him, her expression caught between irritation and concern.
"You really look like a lunatic right now."
But then…
A sound.
A hiss? A pulse?
No—just the faintest change.
The blood was no longer spreading.
It was… receding.
Or rather, it was being pulled toward the stone, thread by thread, vanishing into it like ink in water.
Kael leaned closer, eyes narrowing. The surface of the black object pulsed—just once—as if something within had stirred.
Yue's voice was small now. "It's… absorbing it."
Kael didn't speak. He didn't move.
Yue floated a little further back.
"That's not just an egg," she said at last.
"That thing inside it… it's hungry."
A beat of silence passed between them, heavy and cold.
Kael stared at the stone, the last of the blood disappearing beneath it.
"Then we feed it."
That day became legend.
A nightmare scorched into the memory of Mount Veilpire and all who lived near its cursed slopes.
The first signs were the screams—bestial, guttural, torn from throats not meant to wail in fear.
Then came the silence.
A terrible, heavy silence that fell like a shroud over the trees. The usual chorus of birds and insects vanished, replaced only by the squelch of blood-soaked earth.
Somewhere in the misted heights of the mountain, a figure moved.
A human form.
Cloaked in black.
Wearing a red demonic mask.
He did not run.
He did not rush.
He walked, slow and deliberate, through the forest as if through a sacred ritual.
And every step he took was a death knell.
The beasts never stood a chance.
A boarbeast, its tusks the size of scythes, lunged from the thicket—its head was removed before it landed, spine hissing steam where it was severed.
A scaled predator with flesh like iron roared from the trees—its chest exploded in a pulse of arcanum, bones scattered like glass.
Blood painted the forest.
Slicked across leaves. Soaked into roots. Pooled in hollows.
The mountain reeked—iron and rot, the copper tang of open veins.
Soon, the entire slope ran red.
It was as if the mountain itself were bleeding.