Crimson rebirth: rise of the cursed eye

Two Years Later – Wyrmveil Forest, Hollow Cavern

The storm no longer raged.

It knelt.

Kael stood at the center of the Hollow Cavern, surrounded by scorched stone and the echoes of violence. Lightning coiled softly across his shoulders — no longer wild, no longer defiant. It moved like breath now, alive and obedient.

Two years.

Two years since Elenore's death.

Two years since he turned his back on the world.

Two years since the Nexis system awakened.

And in those years, the forest had become his crucible.

Kael's torso was bare, his skin marked by faint scorch trails and glowing Nexis veins. The Ashen Sigil glimmered in both eyes — red rings revolving slowly inside pitch-black irises. His presence exuded power that didn't radiate… it pressed.

He lifted his blade — Ebonfang, now refined through countless soul echoes. Its blackened steel carried streaks of crimson, etched with spectral scars of every beast and monster it had consumed.

He moved.

> "Voidrend Pulse."

Lightning erupted from his arm, molded by memory. His figure blurred into motion — a streak of violet-black light that crossed the cavern in a heartbeat. His blade struck the stone wall with explosive silence, the impact folding space and cleaving a clean diagonal gouge straight through the rock.

Kael stopped behind it, unblinking. Sparks hissed from his fingertips.

He exhaled. Not from fatigue — from restraint.

---

He turned.

More energy gathered in his palm — not chaotic like before, but focused, layered with intent.

Lightning compressed into a sharp, spear-like construct. Its tip radiated unstable arcs that snapped at the air, distorting light around it.

> "Aetherpierce Lance."

He hurled it.

The spear flew faster than sound — a burst of violet light surging through stone, wind, and magic itself. The moment it struck the far wall, a shockwave thundered through the cavern. The rock didn't shatter — it ripped open, as though reality itself had been speared.

A perfect tunnel now carved through thirty meters of stone.

Kael lowered his hand, his expression calm. Aetherpierce. Clean. Absolute. There was no hesitation in the energy anymore — it followed his will as if it had always belonged to him.

Then he raised his gaze.

The crack in the cavern's ceiling showed hints of the storm gathering beyond.

The sky responded to his presence now.

It knew what he was.

He slowly extended his arm upward, palm facing the heavens.

> "Netherstorm Descent."

The clouds convulsed above. Silent. Pregnant with power.

Then, like a vengeful god tearing through dimensions, a black-violet lightning dragon crashed from the heavens — its form shrieking with the sound of tearing sky.

It struck the cavern's training ground.

Everything within a hundred-meter radius was erased.

There was no fire. No explosion.

Just… silence.

And then, nothing.

When the glow faded, molten stone remained — circular, perfect, smoldering.

Kael stood at the center, untouched.

The echoes of beasts in the forest beyond fell quiet. Even the monsters that ruled Wyrmveil recoiled from what they had just felt.

Ashuru's voice whispered faintly, ever present in Kael's mind:

> "You've done more in two years than most do in a lifetime. But this… this is still only the beginning."

Kael didn't answer.

He turned his gaze toward the small altar near the cavern wall — where the broken hilt of Elenore's dagger still rested, wrapped in weathered cloth and bound by black cord.

He placed a violet flower beside it.

No words. No tears.

Only silence.

Then, suddenly, his body shifted — senses sharpening. The air to the west had changed.

A faint ripple.

Not beast. Not Wyrmveil.

Humans.

Kael narrowed his eyes. Forest Rankers, maybe. Or something worse.

He sheathed Ebonfang into his inventory.

No light, no sound.

Just gone.

Lightning sparked faintly around his feet as he stepped toward the exit. The shadows welcomed him. The cave behind him steamed, smoking from the power he had just unleashed.

---

Interlude: The Rift Divide (Updated)

> Two years ago, the Rift system was fractured — now, it is dominated.

The Five Great Noble Houses, the Obsidian Spire, and the Royal Empire control all high-tier Rift access. Even Tier III zones are locked behind blood contracts and kingdom-sealed permissions.

Evolution is now bought, not earned.

Those without titles, guild backing, or noble blood — the Riftless — are cast out into wild zones like Wyrmveil, where survival is not a matter of rank but of desperation.

These outcasts, called Forest Rankers, face corrupted beasts, unstable terrain, and forgotten magic. Many die. Few return. Even fewer evolve.

But rumors have begun to rise from Wyrmveil:

Lightning that splits the sky.

A swordsman cloaked in silence.

Black storms that leave no corpses — only ash.

Some call it myth. Others call it cursed.

But the forest calls it Kael Ardyn.

---

Kael stepped into the open air, eyes scanning the distant trees. His presence was invisible, but his instincts were sharper than ever.

Far off, near the western border of the Wyrmveil, he could feel it — curiosity, fear, and hunger.

He didn't know if it was Forest Rankers or scouts sent by nobility.

He didn't care.

If they entered his forest uninvited…

they would learn the difference between a hunter…

And a storm