The city burned with whispers before noon.

Rumors of blasphemers in the cathedral spread faster than fire. By the time Kael and Jorah reached the river gates, every guard post was on alert. The banners of the Solar Church fluttered above the rooftops, and priests in golden robes shouted prayers that sounded suspiciously like death sentences.

Kael kept his hood low as they slipped through the alleyways. The mark on his wrist pulsed faintly—warning, not pain. Time itself seemed uneasy.

"You're smiling again," Jorah muttered. "That's never a good sign."

"I like when they panic early," Kael said. "It saves me the trouble of introducing myself."

They stopped near the edge of the docks. Beyond the river, the forest stretched wide and dark—Graycross's natural border and Kael's best chance to vanish. He remembered this place from his first life; he'd marched armies across that forest, burned half of it, buried thousands beneath it. Now it looked peaceful, shimmering under the sun.

Jorah scanned the guards near the ferry ramp. "You got a plan, genius?"

Kael smirked. "Same as always. Improvisation."

"I hate that plan."

"Then run faster."

---

They moved when the bells rang again—Kael walking calmly toward the guards while Jorah circled wide behind the crates. The moment one guard shouted, "Hey, you there—!" Kael grabbed a barrel, rolled it into their legs, and dove for cover. Jorah's dagger flashed, cutting the rope that held the ferry steady.

The vessel drifted.

"Now!" Kael shouted.

They sprinted together, leaping onto the ferry as it slid away from the dock. The guards yelled, one firing a crossbow that clanged harmlessly against the railing.

Kael gave them a mock salute. "Blessings of the gods upon you!"

"Kael!" Jorah groaned. "You're going to get us killed!"

"Probably."

They drifted downriver, the city slowly shrinking behind them. Kael exhaled, letting the sun warm his face. For a moment, peace. Real, fleeting peace.

Then the air went cold.

Jorah felt it first. "Uh… why is the sky doing that?"

Kael opened his eyes. The sunlight had dimmed, as if something massive had passed between them and the sun. The mark on his wrist burned.

"Oh," he said quietly. "They sent one already."

---

A shape descended through the clouds—vast, golden, and winged. It landed on the far bank in a storm of dust and light. When the glow faded, it wasn't a creature but a man—tall, armored, and radiant, eyes burning like twin suns.

A celestial.

Kael's smirk faltered just slightly. "Well, that was quick."

Jorah gaped. "That's one of them?"

"The Hound of the Sun," Kael said. "Divine enforcer. I killed him once."

"You killed that thing?!"

"Not recently."

The celestial raised a hand, and the air rippled. The river began to churn backward, dragging their ferry toward the shore. Kael's hair whipped in the wind as he steadied himself.

Jorah grabbed the railing. "Any plan that doesn't end in death?"

Kael cracked his knuckles. "Working on it."

---

The ferry slammed against the mudbank. The celestial stepped forward, his voice echoing like thunder.

"KAEL VORRION. YOU ARE OUTSIDE YOUR ERA. THE THREADS OF TIME REJECT YOU."

Kael grinned. "Get in line. Everyone's rejected me at least once."

"YOUR EXISTENCE IS A BLASPHEMY. YOU WILL BE ERASED."

Kael tilted his head. "Erase me, then. See how that works out for you."

The Hound raised his sword—a blade made of sunlight, humming with divine power. Kael met its glow with a cold smirk. "Still compensating for something, I see."

He moved as the blade came down.

Time twisted.

Kael vanished, reappearing a few feet away as the sword hit the ferry, splitting it in half. Steam hissed as water exploded upward. Jorah yelled something unintelligible and dove for the riverbank.

Kael landed in the mud, boots sliding. "You really want to do this again?" he called out. "Last time didn't end well for you."

The celestial's burning gaze flickered. "LAST TIME, YOU DIED."

Kael's grin sharpened. "And yet, here I am."

The Hound lunged.

---

Light and shadow clashed.

Every strike from the celestial carved through the air like a falling star. Kael dodged by fractions of seconds—literally. The mark on his wrist flared, letting him steal moments, bend them, slip between them. To mortal eyes, it looked like he was dancing through sunlight.

But the power burned. Every use felt heavier than the last, like tearing stitches in a wound that hadn't healed.

The Hound struck again, faster. Kael parried with his stolen dagger; the metal screamed, then disintegrated. He ducked, kicked the Hound in the chest, and rolled away.

"Little help here!" Kael shouted.

Jorah threw something—a flask of oil. Kael caught it, grinned, and flung it at the Hound's armor. The celestial's light dimmed just enough.

Kael snapped his fingers.

The spark of stolen time ignited the oil like magic. Flame roared upward. The celestial howled, wings folding instinctively.

Kael lunged, grabbed the burning hilt of the divine sword, and twisted it free.

The blade screamed as he touched it—divine energy biting into mortal flesh—but Kael held firm. His wrist mark blazed bright blue, forcing the light to obey him. The sword's glow shifted from gold to azure.

The Hound staggered back, eyes wide. "IMPOSSIBLE—"

Kael smirked. "That's my favorite word."

He drove the blade straight through the Hound's chest.

Light burst outward, blinding and pure. When it faded, only ashes and feathers remained.

Kael stood over the spot, chest heaving, knuckles white on the divine blade's hilt. The air still crackled with heat. Behind him, Jorah clambered out of the mud, soaked and shaking.

"You—" he panted. "You killed a god."

Kael looked down at the smoking ground. "No. Just one of their dogs."

He turned the sword in his hand, watching as its light dimmed and solidified into cold metal. The runes along the edge changed—new ones forming, glowing faintly blue, like the mark on his wrist.

Jorah swallowed. "You're enjoying this way too much."

Kael grinned. "Wouldn't you?"

---

They camped deep in the forest that night. Kael cleaned the blade, now resting beside him, its edge humming softly. Jorah sat across the fire, watching with wary fascination.

"So," Jorah said at last. "What now?"

Kael stared into the flames. "Now the gods know I'm awake. They'll send more. Stronger ones."

"That's… not comforting."

"It's not meant to be."

He leaned back, smiling faintly. "The game's started, Jorah. The pieces are moving. And the gods? They think they're players."

Jorah raised a brow. "And you?"

Kael's eyes gleamed in the firelight. "I'm the one flipping the board."

Far above them, unseen, the stars pulsed faintly—like the ticking of a clock beginning again.

---

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.