The Eternal Hunter’s Trace

The rain fell like a thin curtain, drenching the city bathed in neon lights. Puddles on the pavement reflected hues of red, blue, and gold, creating shimmering distortions beneath each step.

Footsteps echoed softly between towering buildings.

Kael took a deep breath, letting the scent of damp earth fill his lungs. The cold air bit at his skin, yet his palms remained warm.

Because of the book.

Its black leather cover was rough, cracked like a tree scorched by time. But the strangest thing—was that the book felt alive.

As if it was breathing.

And he had found it in a shop that shouldn't exist.

The alley had been dark and silent when he stumbled upon it—a narrow gap between two ancient buildings, too small to house a store. No signboard. No light from the windows. Just a worn wooden door, slightly ajar, as if beckoning him in.

Inside, wooden shelves stood still under the dim glow. The air was thick with the scent of aged paper and decaying wood. But beneath it… something else lingered.

Something watching.

Behind the counter, an old man sat motionless.

His eyes were sharp—too sharp for someone his age. As if he wasn't merely human.

Without a word, he slid the book toward Kael.

"This book has been waiting for you."

Kael frowned. "What do you mean?"

But the moment he blinked—

The shop vanished.

He stood alone in the empty alleyway.

The wind carried the scent of rain… and something foreign. His heart pounded.

What just happened?

In his apartment, Kael sat at his wooden desk. The flickering light above cast a weak halo, barely pushing back the darkness creeping in the corners.

Before him, the book lay silent.

Yet he could feel something pulsing within it.

His fingers brushed against the black leather cover. The moment they made contact—an unfamiliar sensation crept up his arm.

Like a heartbeat.

Like something waiting.

Hesitantly, he flipped open the first page.

Golden letters shimmered across the coarse paper:

"Welcome, Eternal Hunter. Fate has chosen you. This world is waiting."

Kael's heartbeat quickened.

Those words… they weren't just text.

They were speaking.

He swallowed, reaching to turn the next page.

But before his fingers touched the paper—

The room trembled.

The air thickened, as if unseen forces coiled in the shadows.

Kael's breath hitched. His eyes darted around, searching for something invisible.

The light above shattered.

Darkness swallowed the room.

Shadows crawled along the walls, moving like living ink, dripping and spreading. The stench of burning filled the air, mingled with something else—something ancient, something dangerous.

Then, the whispers came.

Not one voice. Not two.

Thousands.

They spoke in a language he did not know.

Yet somehow, he understood.

Prayers.

Curses.

Warnings.

A storm of memories crashed into him:

—A man in a black cloak stood atop a ruined mountain, surrounded by smoldering corpses. The dark-red sky wept over a world already lost.

—A pair of crystal-blue eyes stared at him from the abyss. A woman's eyes. The sorrow within them was endless, as if mourning something forever gone.

—A colossal sword was buried in the earth, its golden glow blinding—like the imprisoned core of a sun.

Kael gasped, his hands trembling.

I've seen this before.

But when?

The wind howled—even though the windows were shut.

The book began to glow.

Not ordinary light—but a pulsating golden radiance… like a heartbeat growing stronger.

Kael tried to shut the book.

Too late.

The light consumed him.

His body felt weightless, engulfed in swirling energy. Kael tried to scream, but his voice was devoured by the void.

The world around him collapsed.

Heat and cold struck him at once, as if his body was shattered into fragments before being pieced together again.

When he came to, he was no longer in his apartment.

Kael stumbled onto grass that felt like silk. The air was cooler, yet something was wrong.

Too quiet.

He turned.

Above him, the sky was a deep violet—vast and endless.

Two moons hung on the horizon, casting an eerie, unnatural glow.

This world… was waiting.

A voice echoed in his mind.

"Welcome to the Endless Realm, Eternal Hunter."

Kael's heart clenched.

He turned swiftly.

Atop a massive stone, a man in a black cloak stood tall.

His eyes gleamed like stars in the night.

The wind played with his cloak, casting shifting shadows that seemed to move on their own.

Kael tried to speak, but before he could—

The sky trembled.

A crimson flare erupted on the horizon, splitting the clouds like a wound in the heavens.

A shriek pierced the air.

Not human.

Something massive.

Something ancient.

Kael could only watch in terror.

This world had called him back.

Kael's pulse pounded as the cold wind lashed against his face. He stood frozen, eyes locked onto the cloaked figure atop the stone.

"Who are you?" His voice nearly caught in his throat.

The man didn't answer immediately. His star-like eyes bore into Kael, as if peering through his very soul.

"You've finally returned."

Kael frowned. "Returned?"

Before the man could reply, the wind shifted again. From the distance, a low rumble echoed—something stirring within the shadows.

"Prepare yourself."

The man raised a hand, and Kael saw his shadow waver. Something was approaching—more than one.

From the rolling mist, dark figures emerged.

Tall, gaunt, their bodies shifting like thick smoke. Their eyes glowed crimson, filled with hunger.

Kael took a step back. "What are those…?"

"Cursed wraiths." The cloaked man's voice was calm. "They can sense you."

One of the creatures snarled—then lunged at Kael with terrifying speed.

Instinct took over.

Kael leaped back.

His heart pounded. His body felt light yet heavy at the same time. This world was unfamiliar, yet…

Familiar.

The creature lunged again, its claws mere inches from his face.

CLANG!

A long blade slashed through the air, slicing the wraith in two before it could touch him.

The cloaked man had moved. The black sword in his hand pulsed with a dim glow, as if feeding on the vanquished creature's essence.

Kael swallowed. "What the hell is happening?"

The man gazed at him. "If you want to survive, you must fight."

Kael shook his head, struggling to make sense of everything. "I don't even know where I am!"

The man studied him for a moment—then tossed something his way.

Kael instinctively caught it. A sword.

It felt light in his grip—like it was made for him.

"Remember anything?" the man asked.

Kael stared at the blade, and for a moment, his head throbbed. A flash of memory surfaced—he had wielded a sword like this before.

But when? Where?

Before he could search for answers, the wraiths attacked again.

Kael lifted his sword—his body moved on its own.

His blade deflected the first strike, then spun sideways to evade another.

This movement… I know it.

His heartbeat quickened.

A shadow lunged at him. This time, Kael didn't retreat.

He spun, swinging his sword. A faint blue light trailed behind the slash—

And the wraith was cleaved in half.

Kael panted.

His hands trembled, but not from fear.

His body remembered something his mind had forgotten.

The cloaked man watched him with an unreadable expression.

"You're not completely lost."

Kael turned to him. "What do you mean?"

But before he could answer, the sky trembled once more.

A deafening roar shook the heavens.

A blood-red light tore through the sky—

And from within it, something began to descend.

Bigger. Stronger. Older.

Kael stared upward. And as he gazed at the creature—

Something inside him…

Awakened.

Kael's breath came in ragged gasps as he stared at the distant black spire. The crimson light at its peak pulsed rhythmically—like a heartbeat—casting an eerie glow against the swirling sky. A strange pull gnawed at his chest, a sensation both foreign and familiar, as if something deep within him recognized that place.

The cloaked man beside him remained silent, his unreadable gaze fixed on Kael.

"You feel it, don't you?" The man's voice was calm, almost knowing.

Kael's fingers twitched around the hilt of his sword. The residual energy from his earlier battle still coursed through his veins, leaving behind a faint hum beneath his skin. "What is that tower?"

The man tilted his head slightly. "The center of everything. The source. The place where all paths converge."

Kael narrowed his eyes. "Then why do I feel like I've seen it before?"

The man took a slow step forward, his boots sinking slightly into the strange, grass-like terrain. "Because you have."

Kael's body tensed. "That's not possible."

A quiet chuckle escaped the man's lips. "You still don't remember, do you?"

Kael clenched his jaw. His mind was a fractured puzzle—scattered images, sensations without context. He knew how to wield a sword, how to fight, but the memories tied to those instincts were gone. Hollow.

"I don't have time for riddles." Kael took a step forward, his gaze locked onto the tower. "If that place holds my answers, then I'm going."

The man regarded him for a moment before nodding. "Good. But reaching it won't be simple."

Kael exhaled sharply. "Nothing ever is."

The man extended a hand toward the horizon. "This world shifts, bends. There are forces at play here beyond your comprehension."

Kael turned his gaze to the landscape ahead. The terrain stretched endlessly—twisted plains and jagged cliffs dissolving into the horizon like a mirage. Shadows slithered unnaturally, moving without a source of light.

"This world…" Kael murmured. "Where am I?"

The man's expression darkened. "The Forgotten Realm. A place between existence and oblivion."

A cold shiver ran down Kael's spine. "And I was brought here because of that book?"

The man nodded. "The book was merely a key. You, Kael, were always meant to return."

His heartbeat quickened at those words. Return? The thought sent a ripple of unease through him.

Then, the wind shifted. A whisper drifted through the air, slithering past his ears like a phantom.

He has awakened… The hunt begins…

Kael's grip tightened around his sword. The cloaked man barely reacted, only casting a glance toward the distant shadows.

"We should move," he said calmly.

Kael nodded and stepped forward—

—only for the ground beneath him to vanish.

A split second later, he was falling.

The air howled past his ears as darkness swallowed his vision. The last thing he saw was the cloaked man standing at the abyss's edge, watching him with an expression that was neither surprised nor concerned.

Then, the world shattered.

Kael's back slammed against something that wasn't quite solid, yet not liquid either. A strange, ink-like substance enveloped him, thick and suffocating, dragging him deeper into its depths.

He thrashed, his body straining against the unseen force. The more he struggled, the heavier it became, wrapping around him like invisible chains.

Then—

A skeletal hand shot out from the abyss.

Not his.

Something else.

Its long, bony fingers stretched unnaturally, reaching for his throat.

Kael's instincts roared to life. His sword materialized in his grip, its blade pulsing faintly with blue energy.

With a sharp, fluid motion, he slashed.

The skeletal hand severed cleanly at the wrist.

A deafening wail erupted from below, an inhuman shriek that rattled Kael's bones. The darkness recoiled, and the weight holding him down abruptly vanished.

He gasped as his body broke free, tumbling onto solid ground.

When he looked up, the ink-like abyss was gone.

He was standing in ruins.

Towering pillars stretched high above, cracked and crumbling, their surfaces etched with strange, pulsing symbols. Dust filled the air, mingling with the scent of age and decay—like a place abandoned by time itself.

In the distance, a massive gate loomed between two colossal statues. Faint runes shimmered along its surface, their glow barely piercing the dim light.

Kael's gut twisted.

A trial.

The thought settled deep in his bones.

He didn't know how he knew. But he did.

This was the first step toward the tower.

His journey had truly begun.

[End of Chapter 1]