Blood still stained the alley. Smoke still rose from cracked walls. The scent of scorched stone and burning mana hung in the air like poison.
And Kairo Vale stood in the middle of it all—alive, breathing, and very much unbroken.
He didn't smile.
He didn't celebrate.
He just stared at the ruins left behind by the royal knights who had come to erase him.
Lira leaned against a wall nearby, one hand pressed to a shallow cut on her side.
"You alright?" he asked.
"I've had worse," she said, grinning. "That commander though? You fried his soul."
"He deserved worse."
She nodded. "Yeah. He did."
Kairo looked up at the sky.
Still dark. Still no sun.
"Think they'll come back with more?" he asked.
"They always do."
They didn't wait long.
By midday, Kairo's name was on every whisper, every scroll, every voice that dared speak truth in the kingdom of Elaria.
"He survived the Rite."
"He broke divine magic."
"He commands cursed power."
"He fights like a demon and walks like a man."
Bounty posters appeared across towns. A high reward. No rank. Just a name.
Kairo Vale – Bring him in. Dead or alive.
Most wanted posters listed magic type, skill level, and bounty code.
Kairo's?
Only three words.
"Unknown. Dangerous. Forbidden."
Far beyond Elaria, deep within a floating fortress known as the Spire, a council gathered.
Seven robed figures. Seven kingdoms represented. All seated beneath a massive crystal showing visions of the boy who burned chains meant for gods.
An old man spoke first. "The boy's a threat."
A woman beside him narrowed her eyes. "He's not just a threat. He's a message. A flaw in the system."
"He's more than that," another said. "He's proof."
"Proof of what?"
"That the old powers are waking."
Silence fell.
Then the leader of the Spire leaned forward. Her eyes were silver, her voice like a blade.
"Then we must make an example of him. Burn his name from the world before it spreads too far."
"But it already has."
Back in the slums, Kairo and Lira were on the move.
They couldn't stay in the same place. Not anymore.
Every time he used the power, it left a mark. It echoed. It called things.
Not just people.
Things.
"You feel that?" Lira asked as they passed a broken chapel.
"Yeah."
There was something in the air. Heavy. Wrong. Like the shadows were watching.
They ducked into a tunnel under the city. It used to be an old escape route—now it was just damp stone and dripping water.
Lira lit a small flame in her palm. It flickered blue, dim and cold.
Kairo glanced over. "That spell—it's not normal mana, is it?"
"No."
"What is it?"
She looked ahead. "Same as yours. A curse."
Kairo stared.
"Don't look at me like that," she said. "You're not the only one touched by something ancient."
He smirked. "I didn't say anything."
"You were thinking it."
"Were you born with it?"
"No. I was bitten."
"Bitten?"
She nodded. "By something that wasn't supposed to exist."
The air grew colder.
"What happened to it?" Kairo asked.
"I killed it."
Kairo blinked. "...You sure?"
She didn't answer.
They moved deeper into the tunnel. The light vanished behind them.
After an hour of silence, Kairo asked, "Why do you trust me?"
"I don't," Lira said.
"Then why follow me?"
"Because you're going to cause a storm. And I want to be in the center when it hits."
He smiled. "You're crazy."
"Yeah. And so are you."
By nightfall, they reached a ruined sanctuary at the edge of the kingdom. It was covered in vines, half-swallowed by nature. A place forgotten by the gods.
They made camp in the hollow of a broken statue.
Lira started a fire. Kairo sat with his back against cold stone.
"I wasn't supposed to be anything," he said suddenly.
Lira looked up.
"I used to think I'd die unknown. Just another name no one would remember."
"And now?"
He stared into the flames.
"Now they fear me."
Far away, in a crowded tavern on the eastern border, a bounty hunter slammed a scroll down on the table.
"Five thousand gold," he said. "For some cursed kid."
Another hunter leaned in. "What's his name?"
"Kairo Vale."
A silence swept the room.
Then laughter.
"That kid? The one who broke the Rite?"
"You believe that crap?"
"Doesn't matter," the first said. "The price is real."
"You going after him?"
"I'm not going alone."
In a temple high on the mountains, a blind priest wrote a name across a wall with ink and blood.
KA-I-RO
A prayer or a warning—no one could tell.
In a prison deep beneath the royal city, a girl in chains opened her eyes. They were silver and black.
She whispered one word:
"Kairo…"
The world was watching.
His name was a spark.
And sparks always burned something.