[XP: 1000]
"System, allocate my final points needed to evolve into Strength, agility, endurance and perception."
[Strength: 24 → 25]
[Agility: 24 → 25]
[Endurance: 24 → 25]
[Perception: 24 → 25]
The moment he finalized the upgrades, a new message appeared before him.
[You have reached the threshold for evolution.]
[Would you like to evolve into a Level 2 Forsaken Underling? Cost: 500 XP]
Kael smirked. "Do it."
The world around him shifted.
A powerful force surged through his body, warping him. His bones compressed and expanded in rapid succession, his muscles tore apart and rebuilt themselves in an instant, and his Forsaken Aura flared to life, shifting between pure darkness and electric storms.
His vision blurred, his senses exploded outward, and then—
Silence.
[Evolution Complete. You are now a Level 2 Forsaken Underling.]
Kael exhaled, flexing his fingers. He felt lighter, stronger, faster. His aura no longer felt unstable—it was under his complete control.
He glanced at his XP.
[XP Remaining: 500]
"System, put the rest into Intelligence."
[Intelligence: 5 → 10]
A sharp clarity washed over him. His thoughts became more precise, his understanding of his abilities deepened, and his ability to analyze battle situations sharpened like never before.
Kael rolled his shoulders, turning away from the golden door. He knew now that whatever was behind it wasn't meant for him yet.
But soon… he would return.
For now, he had a family reunion to attend.
The Journey Home
Kael made his way out of the Abyssal Dungeon, stepping into the world for the first time in a year. The air felt different, lighter. The city of Valtheris lay in the distance, its towering structures glistening in the sun.
As he walked, a thought crossed his mind.
"System, is there a reward for… destroying my family?"
There was a pause. Then, the System responded, its voice eerily calm.
"The Draven Clan cast you aside. They sent you to die. In doing so, they unknowingly created the first Forsaken. If you were to eliminate them… a fitting reward would be given."
Kael's smirk widened.
"And what ranking am I in human terms now?"
[Your current rank is Mystic Warrior.]
Kael stopped walking. His heart pounded.
"Mystic Rank?"
Mystic-Ranked Warriors were legendary in Valtheris. They stood at the pinnacle of power, second only to godlike beings that few had ever seen. In this city, a Mystic-ranked warrior could do as they pleased. Even his father, Lord Darius Draven, was only a 5th Earth-Ranked Warrior.
Kael ran a hand through his hair, chuckling darkly.
"This is going to be fun."
He continued down the path, heading straight for the Draven estate.
This time, he wasn't coming home as a weak, powerless outcast.
He was coming home as a monster.
Kael walked through the streets of Valtheris, his black cloak billowing behind him as crackles of violet lightning flickered across his fingertips. He hadn't seen civilization in a year, yet nothing about it felt familiar anymore. The weak scurried beneath the strong, noble families flaunted their power, and warriors boasted of their strength.
But they were nothing compared to him now.
As he approached the towering Draven Estate, the ancestral home of his clan, two armored guards stepped forward, crossing their halberds in front of the gate.
"Halt. State your business."
Kael stared at them, his golden eyes glowing faintly. "I'm here for the Heir Competition."
The guards scoffed, but then one of them narrowed his eyes, examining Kael's face. His expression twisted in confusion.
"…Wait. Do I know you?"
The second guard took a closer look, then his eyes widened in horror. "No way… It can't be."
Kael smirked. "Figured it out?"
The first guard took a step back, his grip tightening on his weapon. "You—You're Kael Draven! You were sent to die a year ago in the Abyssal Dungeon! How the hell are you standing here?!"
Kael tilted his head. "I walked back."
The guards exchanged nervous glances, uncertain of what to do. Finally, one of them muttered, "We… We have to take him inside."
"Yeah," the other guard agreed. "Lord Draven will definitely want to see this."
They escorted Kael through the massive estate, leading him straight to the Family Square, where the Heir Competition was about to take place. The entire Draven Clan had gathered—warriors, nobles, elders, and, of course, his family.
The moment Kael stepped into the square, a murmur spread through the crowd.
"Who's that?"
"I don't recognize him…"
"Wait… look at his face… No. No way."
Then, a voice rang out across the square—his cousin Vael Draven, one of the top competitors. He squinted at Kael, then let out a cruel laugh.
"You've got to be kidding me. Is that really Kael? The worthless outcast?!"
Laughter erupted from the crowd.
One of his uncles sneered, crossing his arms. "We sent you to die, boy. And now you waltz in here like you belong?"
"Wait, wait," another cousin mocked, "so let me get this straight—not only did you somehow survive, but now you actually think you can compete in the Heir Competition?"
Roars of laughter filled the square.
Kael didn't react. He simply stared at them.
Then, a deep voice echoed across the courtyard, silencing the laughter instantly.
Lord Darius Draven stepped forward, his imposing figure towering over everyone. His dark armor gleamed under the sun, and his piercing crimson eyes locked onto Kael.
The head of the Draven Clan. The man who cast Kael aside.
For a brief moment, silence hung between them. Then, Darius threw back his head and laughed.
"HAHAHAHA!" His deep voice rumbled across the square. "This is hilarious!"
He gestured toward Kael, turning to the gathered warriors. "Look at him! My pathetic, useless failure of a son returns after a year in the wild, thinking he can stand among us."
More laughter followed.
Darius wiped a tear from his eye and smirked. "Tell me, boy—do you truly believe you belong here?"
Kael met his father's gaze, his expression unreadable. "I don't just belong here," he said calmly. "I'm going to win."
Silence.
Then—more laughter. This time, it was cruel.
Darius smirked. "Then let's make things interesting." He turned to the gathered warriors and spread his arms.
"Anyone who kills Kael Draven… earns my personal favor."
The air grew heavy. The smirks disappeared. Suddenly, every warrior in the square turned their gaze to Kael.
Murderous intent filled the air.
Darius grinned. "Let's see how long the disappointment lasts this time."
Kael simply closed his eyes, rolling his shoulders.
Lightning crackled around his body.
"Alright," he muttered. "Come and try."