The industrial elevator groaned as it hauled them out of the filth of the Undercity, the chains rattling like the bones of a dying giant. Kael stood at the edge of the platform, the wind whipping his coat. He felt different. Lighter. The [Phantom Step] ability sat in his core like a coiled spring, eager to launch him into the void.
Beside him, Alaric Vance adjusted his tie, looking like a cat that had just eaten a canary. "The data from that fusion... simply exquisite. I haven't seen a mana network this efficient since I dissected that S-Rank elf back in '98."
"Focus on the road, not the dissection," Kael muttered.
Morgan was quiet, her eyes glued to her tablet. The afterglow of their sessions had faded, replaced by the cold reality of business. She was a slave, yes, but she was a useful one. She knew the players; she knew the board.
"Master," she said, her voice tight. "You need to see this."
She turned the tablet toward him.
The screen was filled with the face of his brother.
Sarae Hart.
---
The Royal Announcement
The broadcast was live from New Avalon, the gleaming capital of the North American Alliance. A massive crowd stretched to the horizon, their faces upturned in religious fervor.
Sarae stood on a floating dais of obsidian, dressed in a pristine white suit that contrasted sharply with the dark, swirling energy of the Dragon Heart held aloft in his hand.
He looked bored.
That was the first thing Kael noticed. Sarae didn't look like a conqueror high on power. He looked like a man holding a trinket he had picked up at a convenience store.
"Citizens," Sarae's voice echoed, smooth and resonant, manipulated by wind magic to carry for miles. "The Age of Hiding is over. I have returned from the Dragon Bones with the heart of a God. The weak barriers protecting your cities are no longer necessary."
He crushed the heart in his grip.
A shockwave of pure, golden mana erupted outward, washing over the city. Broken buildings mended themselves instantly. The smog in the air cleared, revealing a blue sky.
The crowd went fucking insane. Screams of adoration. Tears. People fainting.
Sarae watched them with a faint, detached smile.
"In celebration of this new dawn," Sarae continued, "The Hart Family assumes permanent stewardship of the Alliance. Regional borders are dissolved. All Guilds will pledge fealty to the Crown. We will bring order to the chaos."
He paused, his gaze sweeping over the crowd.
"The world is vast, and filled with opportunities for those with the strength to seize them. Do not squander the gift I have given you today."
He turned away, the image of the savior holding firm.
The broadcast cut to static.
---
Kael stared at the black screen.
The hover-car was silent. Even Alaric had stopped fidgeting.
The bastard was standing on top of the world, crowned in light.
"You're quiet," Alaric observed, eyeing Kael nervously. "Planning to storm the capital? Because I can tell you right now, that would be a suicidal move. He just fixed a city with a flex of his wrist. That's SS-Rank reality manipulation."
"I'm not suicidal," Kael said, his voice low and deadly. "I'm practical. Sarae is a god right now. If I walk into New Avalon, I'm just another ant to be stepped on."
He looked out the window, the lights of the city blurring into streaks of neon.
"Master, your siblings," Morgan ventured.
"Two," Kael said. "Michael and Dalia. Michael is a Spatial user. SS-Rank potential. He ran. Grabbed Dalia and left me to rot when we were kids."
"Ah," Alaric said. "Family drama. The fuel of empires."
"They aren't family," Kael spat. "Family doesn't leave you to be tortured for five years."
He turned to Morgan.
"Where is Michael?"
"Rumors place him in the Frontier Zones," Morgan replied quickly. "The Dead Lands. It's a lawless shithole where S-Rank monsters roam. No government control."
"Perfect," Kael said. "Sarae is too arrogant to look for me. That gives me time."
He leaned forward, his eyes glowing with the [Primordial Sight].
"Change the flight plan. We aren't going back to the Lockwood estate. We're going to the Frontier."
"Why?" Alaric asked. "To hide?"
Kael laughed. It was a cold, jagged sound.
"No. To level. Sarae is SS-Rank. I'm C-Rank. The gap is obscene. I need XP. And what better place than the frontier zones."
He cracked his neck.
"The Frontier is crawling with monsters and outlaw Guilds. It's an all-you-can-eat buffet. And my brother Michael... he has a lot of explaining to do."
---
The Frontier
The jet banked sharply, engines roaring as it altered course toward the desolate wastelands of the West.
Kael sat back, closing his eyes.
Family. A joke. A lie told to children to make them feel safe.
In this world, there was only one rule: The Devourer stands alone.
"System," Kael thought. "Plot route to the last known location of Michael Hayes."
ROUTE CALCULATED.
Destination: The Frontier
Estimated Time: 6 Hours.
Threat Level: EXTREME.
Kael watched the city lights fade into the darkness of the wasteland.
"Let the King have his throne," Kael whispered to the empty air. "I'll bring the storm."
---