"They'll never understand you, Kale. Not her. Not anyone. You hesitate, and she calls it weakness. You falter, and she questions your resolve. But with me…"

The blade's voice softened, almost tender.

"With me, they wouldn't question. They wouldn't doubt. You heard her—you already know what she thinks of you. They all think it. Afraid of doing what's necessary. Afraid of power. Afraid of becoming more."

Kale said nothing, forcing himself to focus on the rhythm of his steps.

"You think she respects your restraint?" Lifedrinker pressed, its tone curling like smoke. "No, Kale. She pities it. And pity will not save her. Pity will not save anyone when the blood starts to flow. But you could. You could save them. You could end all of this before it begins. You just have to reach for me."

The whispers coiled around his resolve, each word sharp and precise, calculated to needle into the doubts he'd tried to bury.

"You carry me as a burden, but I am a gift. Strange, isn't it? Like a drowning man clutching a lifeline, but never pulling himself to shore."

Kale's steps faltered for a moment before he steeled himself.

"And yet you cling to me," the blade continued. "You carry me everywhere. Why? For what? You know what I can do. You've felt it. I am your greatest strength, Kale. I am the answer to every doubt you've whispered to yourself in the dark."

Kale kept moving, his eyes fixed ahead, refusing to give the blade the satisfaction of a reply.

"You think silence is strength? That ignoring me proves your resolve? It proves nothing. It makes you weak. You let yourself get bound to the Scarlet Veil, Kale—tied to their blood, their magic, their war. Do you truly believe you can shoulder that burden without me? Without the strength I offer?"

Kale inhaled slowly, focusing on the path ahead.

The blade's voice softened, shifting to something almost coaxing. "You saw what happened in Khor'vel. After all this time, you weren't alone. You found them. And what did you do?

"You cut them down.

"You call it mercy. You tell yourself there was no other way. But tell me, Kale—if that's true, why does it haunt you?

"You carry me, but you refuse to wield me. Why? Out of pride? Fear? Do you think your restraint makes you noble? It doesn't. It makes you predictable. It makes you vulnerable."

Kale stopped mid-step, the blade's words cutting deeper than he wanted to admit. He exhaled sharply, his voice low and defiant. "You don't control me."

"Control you?" Lifedrinker's laugh curled through his thoughts like smoke. "I don't want to control you, Kale. You'll come to me on your own, as they all do. When the blood starts spilling, when the walls start crumbling, when your noble restraint costs you everything you've sworn to protect. And in that moment, you'll understand. I'm not your burden. I'm your salvation. I want to set you free."

Kale's grip on his resolve wavered, just for a moment. He forced himself to keep moving, forcing the voice back into the recesses of his mind. But the words lingered, their shadows trailing after him, waiting for the moment his will might break.

Kale walked toward the Keepers, their red-cloaked figures visible in the distance, a grim reminder of the path he was being forced to tread. As if Lifedrinker's endless taunting wasn't bad enough, Kale thought, now I have to deal with this too.

Lifedrinker's laughter rippled faintly, a sinister undertone in his mind. "Oh, but I make it fun, don't I?"

Kale didn't think it was fun, and he refused to let the blade drag him further into conversation. He spotted Liliana and Rika ahead and moved to join them, careful not to meet their eyes. He was afraid they'd see the conflict written across his face, the turmoil he couldn't fully hide.

This wasn't just another mission. This was a crucible—a test of his resolve, his morality, and his ability to remain himself in the face of everything pulling him toward darkness.

He took a steadying breath, preparing himself for the brutal mission ahead. The path ahead would demand everything he had, not just against the Bloodthorn, but against the shadows within himself. He couldn't let either claim him.

"Took you long enough," Rika said as he reached them. "What happened? Did you get lost again?"

Kale sighed, brushing past her. "No, I just needed a moment. Not everyone wakes up ready to smash things."

"I'm built for action," Rika shot back, slapping her bicep with a grin. "You never know when you'll need to start smashing. You might wake up in the middle of the night, and there's a giant golem standing over you. What do you do? Right. You smash it."

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"Yes, because that happens all the time. Golems, just casually lurking over people in their sleep. When has that ever happened to you?"

Rika shrugged. "It hasnt. But it could! That's why I'm always ready."

"Last time someone broke into our camp, you didn't even wake up until Kale killed all those bandits," Liliana said.

Rika scoffed. "I was awake the whole time, I just didn't wanna steal his thunder."

Kale chuckled. "Oh, is that what that was? You were snoring so loud I'm surprised you didn't scare them off.

"If anything, your snoring probably attracted them," Liliana said. "They probably thought there was a wounded animal nearby."

Rika crossed her arms. "First of all, I don't snore. Second, you can both go to hell."

Kale laughed, shaking his head. "Keep telling yourself that, Rika. Meanwhile, I'll be here, protecting you while you nap through the next crisis."

"Keep laughing," Rika said, jabbing a finger into his chest. "Next time, I'll let the bandits have a go at you first. Let's see how funny you are then."

"Oh will you?" Kale laughed. "I'm sure you'd just sleep through the whole thing again. I thought you were supposed to be the bodyguard?"

Rika shot back with a grin. "I don't think you've ever thanked me for saving your life. Not once in the…" She paused, counting on her fingers with exaggerated effort. "I can't even count how many times."

"That's because you can't count over ten," Liliana said without missing a beat.

"Wow, rude! Can too! Don't mix me up with Kale, Lili, I thought we were friends!"

"Hey! I can count like the best of them!" Kale protested, raising a hand in mock indignation.

"Sure," Liliana said dryly. "Let's test that. How many bandits were there last time?"

"Easy," Kale said confidently. "There were… uh…" He hesitated, glancing at Rika for help.

"See?" Rika grinned. "I knew it. Stick with me, Kaley. I'll handle the numbers and the smashing."

Liliana sighed. "The world is doomed."

A voice called from the hall behind them. "Bladeweaver. Titanbreaker."

They turned to see two attendants stepping forward, their expressions solemn and respectful. "The Lord of the Scarlet Veil has a gift for each of you," one of them announced. "He wishes you to bear these as a mark of honor—and a token of his faith in the battle ahead."

The attendants gestured, and two Keepers approached, each bearing a gleaming set of armor designed to match Kale and Rika's classes.

Kale's armor was fitted to him masterfully. Pristine white plates interlaced with flowing crimson accents gave it a striking, almost ethereal appearance, as if the armor itself carried the essence of blood magic. Fine engravings traced the edges of each piece—not merely decorative, but imbued with enchantments to enhance his agility and sharpen his reflexes. Light yet durable, it allowed him the freedom to fight with the grace of a bladeweaver. On his back, discreet slots had been crafted to secure extra blades, perfectly positioned for quick access in the chaos of combat.

"Bladeweaver, this armor will amplify your speed and precision," the attendant explained. "It is attuned to your class and strengthened by the magic of the Scarlet Veil. You will find it moves with you, rather than against you."

Kale ran his hand over the smooth, gleaming surface, feeling the faint hum of power coursing through the plates. There was something alive about the armor—not in a literal sense, but in the way it seemed to resonate with him. As he fastened it into place, it adjusted effortlessly to his frame, each piece settling as though it had been made for him alone.

The moment it was secure, he felt the difference. His movements felt sharper, lighter, as if the armor wasn't just protecting him but enhancing him. More surprising, however, was the quieting of Lifedrinker's whispers. The ever-present murmur of the cursed blade dulled to the faintest echo, no longer clawing at his thoughts with the same insistent hunger. It was as if the armor formed a barrier not only around his body but within his mind.

"Nothing to say now, huh?" he muttered under his breath. "What happened to all the clever comments? No taunts? No lectures about power?"

Silence.

The absence of a response was almost more jarring than the blade's usual ramblings. For a moment, Kale frowned, half-expecting Lifedrinker to seize the opportunity to needle him. But there was nothing—no retort, no condescension. Just silence.

He exhaled deeply, and his worries eased, if only slightly. Kale adjusted the final strap and turned to Liliana.

"Ready," he said firmly.

Then came Rika's turn. Her armor was crafted from the same white and red, but the plates were thicker, more robust. The crimson accents cut across the chestplate and pauldrons in jagged, powerful lines, like veins running through marble. The enchantments woven into the armor amplified her titanic strength, each piece calibrated to enhance her force. Every swing of her warhammer would now hit with the unrelenting power of a landslide.

"Titanbreaker," the attendant said, "this armor has been forged for your might. It will endure the harshest of battles and magnify your strength. With it, you will strike harder, stand longer, and shatter all who stand in your path."

Rika rolled her shoulders, flexing her arms as the enchantments settled into her. She felt the surge of power, an almost electric charge in her muscles. Testing the range of movement, she grinned. "I could definitely get used to this."

She turned to Kale, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Look at you, Kaley, all fancy and polished like a bladeweaver prince."

Rika leaned closer to his chestplate, squinting dramatically. "Wait, is that me? Oh, it is! I can see my reflection in your armor. Fancy and functional."

Kale, unable to resist, leaned forward to try and catch his own reflection in the gleaming surface. "Really? I don't see—"

Before he could finish, Rika tapped his forehead with her knuckle and said, "Boop."

Kale blinked, momentarily stunned. "Did you just—'boop' me?"

Rika grinned wide, hands on her hips. "You're welcome, prince. That's the royal blessing."

Kale scratched the back of his head, still confused. "I don't get it."

Rika rolled her eyes dramatically. "You don't have to get it, Kaley. Just accept it. It's a gift. A sacred, once-in-a-lifetime 'boop' from yours truly."

Kale raised an eyebrow. "Sacred? I'm pretty sure you just made that up."

"What? Do I look like someone who'd just make up something like that?"

Kales eyes narrowed. "You look exactly like someone who'd make up something like that."

"Okay, you got me!" Rika said, throwing her hands in the air. "But now it's tradition. Kale, you've been blessed. That means you're officially ready to smash some bad guys."

Kale sighed. "Right. Because nothing prepares you for battle like a forehead tap."

"It's called a boop, Kale. And yes, it does. The power of the boop is real."

Liliana crossed her arms. "Alright, children. If you're done booping each other, we should probably join the Keepers. We are the vanguard, after all, and I doubt they'd appreciate us keeping them waiting."

Kale grinned, glancing at Rika. "You heard her. Vanguard's calling. Time to put that sacred boop to good use."

Rika grinned back. "See? It's already working."

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