The planet Eldrath was a place of fractured beauty, where the skies shimmered with auroras that danced like living fire, and the ground pulsed faintly with veins of mana. On the continent of Veylora, the kingdom of Kaelthar stood as a bastion of humanity against the horrors that spilled from the Veil Portals-gates to the undead realm that opened unpredictably, unleashing chaos.
In the vast grasslands of Dawnshire, a small county nestled in the shadow of Kaelthar's capital, the wind whispered secrets to the tall, golden grass. It was here that Kael Veyne stood, a lone figure against the endless horizon. His long black hair floated like a shadowy banner in the breeze, and his sharp green eyes burned with an intensity that could freeze the blood of even the most hardened warrior. His sunken gaze was a window to a soul scarred by fire and blood, a soul that had long since abandoned innocence.
Kael's athletic frame was draped in an oversized coat, its edges frayed and stained with the remnants of countless battles. His hand rested on a straw hat, shielding his eyes from the sun, while the other gripped the hilt of a long katana at his waist. Two pistol-like pouches hung under his shoulders, and a massive sword peeked over his back, its blade etched with runes that glowed faintly. Beside him stood his Spectral Steed, a ghostly skeleton horse with eyes that burned like embers. The creature snorted, its breath a mist of cold vapor, as Kael adjusted his grip on the reins.
Kael was an Adventurer, a hunter of monsters that spilled from the Veil Portals. His job was not one of glory but of necessity-a grim duty to keep the world of the living safe from the undead. Yet, beneath his stoic exterior lay a mind fractured by trauma, a mind that could shift from cold calculation to unhinged rage in an instant.
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The Past: A Village in Flames
When Kael was six, his world had been reduced to ash.
The village of Eryndale was a peaceful place, nestled in a valley surrounded by lush forests. But that peace was shattered when a Veil Portal opened, unleashing a swarm of monsters. Giants, taller than ten-story buildings, strode through the portal, their massive clubs crushing everything in their path. Each step they took shook the earth, creating cracks that swallowed homes whole.
Flying beasts screeched overhead, their talons tearing through the sky, while swift creatures-goblins, werewolves, and worse-hunted the villagers like prey. The air was thick with screams, the stench of burning wood, and the metallic tang of blood.
Kael stood frozen, his small frame trembling as he watched a man-a neighbor who had often given him sweets-beg for mercy. A pack of werewolves surrounded him, their claws slicing into his flesh with cruel precision. The man's screams turned to gurgles, then silence, as his life was extinguished in a pool of crimson.
"Run, Kael!" his father's voice cut through the chaos. His parents rushed to him, their faces pale but determined. His mother scooped him into her arms, her voice trembling as she whispered, "Stay calm, my love. We'll get through this."
His father, a broad-shouldered man with calloused hands, shielded them as they ran toward the edge of the village. "Go to the Adventurer's Guild, Kael," his father said, his voice steady despite the terror around them. "Call for help. We'll save the others. We'll be fine."
Kael's mother kissed his forehead, her tears mixing with the soot on his face. "Be brave, my little warrior."
They pushed him toward the path to safety, then turned back to the village. Kael watched as they disappeared into the smoke, their figures swallowed by the inferno.
And then it happened.
A boulder, hurled by one of the giants, crashed down with a deafening roar. Kael's parents were gone, reduced to a crimson smear beneath the stone. Blood splattered across his face, warm and metallic, as the world seemed to slow.
The crack of bones. The splatter of blood. The roar of flames.
Something inside Kael snapped.
He picked up a wooden sword from the ground, its blade splintered and useless, and charged at the giant. The creature laughed, a sound like grinding stones, and flicked him away like a bug. Kael's body slammed into a tree, ribs cracking, bones breaking. But he stood. Again and again, he rose, driven by a rage that defied reason.
Just as the giant raised its club to finish him, a flash of light cut through the chaos.
"Not bad, kid," a voice said. Kael looked up to see the back of a man, his sword crackling with electricity. With a single, fluid motion, the man swung his blade, and the giant's head flew into the sky, its expression frozen in surprise.
The man turned, his face obscured by the glare of the sun, and smiled. "Help's here. You're safe now."
But Kael didn't feel safe. He felt nothing.
---
The Present: A Journey Begins
Kael shook off the memory, his grip tightening on the reins of his Spectral Steed. The horse snorted, its skeletal frame shifting restlessly beneath him.
"Easy, Eryx," Kael muttered, his voice low and gravelly. "We've got a long ride ahead."
He mounted the steed, its ghostly form barely touching the ground as it began to move. The grasslands stretched endlessly before him, the wind carrying the faint scent of rain.
As he rode, Kael's mind wandered to his next mission: the capital of Kaelthar, Eryndor. A ten-day journey lay ahead, and with it, the promise of more bloodshed.
But Kael didn't mind. Bloodshed was all he knew.