The battlefield still steamed. Smoke clung to the air like breathless awe, and the crater Kael left behind still glowed faintly with flickers of lightning and spiraling trails of flame.
No one spoke.
Not until Leiya took a sharp breath, wiping the soot and ash from Kael's face with trembling hands.
"Help me lift him," she said, her voice cracking but firm.
The others moved at once.
Two shieldbearers crouched at his side, slipping their arms beneath Kael's limp body. His coat had been blown apart, armor melted through — his skin marked by lightning lacerations and charred lines where Essence had overflown. His limbs twitched as if still reacting to the feedback.
"Careful," Leiya whispered, cradling his head against her shoulder as they raised him. "Don't jostle his core. He's—he's still alive."
Kael's eyes fluttered open for just a moment.
She smiled at him, eyes shining through the ash. "I've got you."
He passed out again.
The return to Elandor was somber, reverent. No one cheered. No one carried trophies.
They carried Kael.
A dozen adventurers had seen something more terrifying and awe-inspiring than anything before. One of their own had turned into a force of nature — and survived.
By the time they reached the outer gates, word had already spread.
Guards dropped their weapons in disbelief.
Gate Commanders stepped forward to receive the squad — only for Leiya to lift her head and speak clearly, her voice steadier than it had any right to be.
"Kael Solryn eliminated an Eclipse-tier Varnok," she said.
"...Alone."
The words hit like thunder.
One of the Commanders blinked. "What rank is he?"
"Pyre. First Flame." Leiya's tone made it clear she wasn't lying. "He released a multi-affinity technique that… I don't even have a name for it. None of us do. The battlefield's gone. Flattened. Essence collapse residue everywhere. I'd classify it—"
She looked down at him.
"—as near-Origin level, in destructive output. Temporarily."
Silence followed. Then scribes ran. Messengers were dispatched. Guildmasters' names echoed across the walls as calls were made for emergency council.
Kael Solryn was no longer just a prodigy.
He was something else entirely.
Later that Night — Central Elandor, Adventurer's High Council Quarters
Within hours, rumors consumed the city.
Kael's name passed from lips like wildfire. "The War Mage of Fourfold Wrath." "The Essence of Origin."
Guild leaders debated whether such a technique should even be allowed to be replicated.
Leiya sat alone in the council chamber's outer corridor, arms crossed tightly, her uniform torn and dust-covered, boots still wet from blood and Essence residue. She refused the offered rest, the healers, even the water.
She had reported everything. In full.
And now she waited.
Not for the council's decision. She didn't care about that.
She waited for Kael to wake up.
Elsewhere in Elandor — Later That Night
In one of the high towers of the city's central infirmary, Kael rested in a reinforced Essence cocoon chamber.
Steam curled from his skin as stabilizers worked overtime to keep his Essence from rupturing again.
He stirred.
Eyes slowly opened — and through the haze, he saw something strange.
A dozen figures, standing just outside the glass-like warded walls. Guild officials. Military observers. At least one masked Radiant-ranked adventurer watching with crossed arms.
They weren't smiling.
They weren't concerned.
They were… reverent.
He could barely move, but Kael closed his eyes again. Not from exhaustion this time. From the weight settling in.
His name would never return to quiet obscurity.
And something told him…
He was just getting started.