The obsidian chamber was silent.
Five High-Rank Hunters shifted uneasily as the God Sister paced slowly along the black stone floor.
"One question remains," one of them finally spoke, voice careful. "Should we… tell Kaelen about the child? About Narukaze?"
Her gaze, sharp as ice, fixed on the floor. She didn't answer immediately.
Finally, she spoke. "No. He does not need to know."
A murmur ran through the High-Ranks.
"But… he is powerful. Once he learns…"
"He will not learn," she interrupted calmly. "He fights for survival, for strength, for the remnants of his clan. Let him continue outside the village, battling monsters. Let him grow."
She paused, eyes narrowing. "Kaelen killed his own clan after the birth of the child. They were weak, unworthy of surviving what was to come. The older brother intervened. He took Narukaze and left him in the orphanage. SSS rank, yes… but even he cannot surpass us. And no one knows where he is. Nobody knows which city he is in. He cannot be found."
The High-Ranks shifted, uneasy at her tone.
"And yet," she continued, "Kaelen becomes stronger with each battle. The monsters, the chaos… all tools for him to sharpen his strength. Ignorant of the child below, he is untethered. He will rise unrestrained, shaped by power alone."
One of the younger High-Ranks asked quietly, "And if he learns of Narukaze?"
Her lips curved faintly, cold. "Then he will act rashly. The child's life will become predictable. I refuse to give him that advantage."
She turned toward the map of the city and the outer ruins. Her eyes lingered over the East Village breach.
"The child below will awaken Zerath one day. Kaelen… will be a storm that either shields him or crushes him. But for now… let him fight, let him grow, and let him remain ignorant."
Silence fell.
The High-Ranks bowed slightly, acknowledging her decision.
Far below, the city remained unaware.
Kaelen roamed the outskirts of the village, moving through shattered homes and scorched streets. Monsters, low-tier but numerous, attacked relentlessly.
He killed with precision, each swing of his weapon honed by years of clan training. The chaos around him did not faze him; it sharpened him.
Unaware that every blow, every kill, every step forward was being watched.
Unaware that the child he would one day face had already been marked by prophecy.
And unaware that the God Sister, from her obsidian chamber above, had already decided his role in the coming storm.