The morning wind whispered through the halls of Corzedar Manor, carrying with it the scent of rain and iron.

Weeks had passed since Khael's return, days of laughter, of warmth, of peace he had almost forgotten he deserved.

But peace, like the wind, never stays still for long.

The sound of hurried footsteps broke the stillness.

The great oak doors creaked open, Lord Lito Corzedar looked up from his seat, his expression shifting from ease to command.

A messenger, cloak drenched in dust and sweat, dropped to one knee.

"Lord Corzedar… your son, Lord Arden—he needs your help."

Lito's eyes narrowed. "What happened?"

The messenger swallowed and extended a sealed letter. "It's better if you read it yourself, my lord."

Lito broke the wax with trembling fingers. His eyes scanned the words and his heart sank.

Father,

Forgive me for being incompetent.

My men, our men are afflicted by something beyond our knowledge.

Their Shinrei veins burn black, and their eyes glow as if hollowed by fear.

The priests call it a curse—'Vein Rot', they say a plague born from the sins of men who delve too deep.

The healers' seals shatter upon touch. Echo Arts fail.

And their emotions twist, rage, despair, terror and then… silence.

Entire camps lie empty now.

Please send word to the Veinwalker Corps…

before this rot spreads to the capital.

Your son,

Arden Corzedar

…

The letter slipped from Lito's grasp.

For a long moment, no one spoke. Only the faint hum of the wind filled the silence.

Then—

"Father…" Khael's voice was low, but it carried a weight that stilled the air.

His eyes glimmered like tempered steel. "Vein Rot…"

Lito turned sharply. "What? You know of this?"

His hand instinctively gripped Khael's shoulder, the old general's composure cracking into fear.

Lady Maricar stepped forward, her Shinrei aura flickering like a soft breeze. "Lito… calm down."

"I can't," he said hoarsely. "Not when it's our son out there."

Khael met his gaze, steady and unflinching. "I understand, Father."

Ren and Lyra peeked from the hall, worry etched across their young faces.

"Brother, what's happening?" Ren asked, his voice trembling.

"Something dangerous," Khael murmured. "But… let me think."

He closed his eyes. His thoughts spiraled inward. past the manor, past this world into fragments of another life.

(Vein Rot… yes. I know this. It was in Arc 7… when Kaen Suro and the others entered the war camps—soldiers twisted by a 'curse' that wasn't a curse at all.)

Memories flickered. Pages. Diagrams. The voice of Shigeo Smith, the boy he once was echoed like a whisper through time.

(It wasn't divine punishment… it was science. A Shinrei feedback disorder caused by synthetic Vein Gates.)

The truth formed sharply in his mind:

A tool that forced Shinrei into untrained bodies, overloading emotional circuit, their veins fracturing, their souls leaking power like smoke.

The world had called it a curse of the gods.

But he knew better.

He exhaled slowly. "Those bastards are using the forbidden Gate resonance again…"

Lady Maricar's voice quivered. "Khael… what are you saying?"

Khael looked up, eyes burning faintly gold. "I know what this is. And I know how to cure it."

Lito blinked, startled. "You… you do?"

"Take me north," Khael said firmly. "To where Arden is."

Maricar stepped forward, panic flashing in her voice. "It's dangerous, Khael! The curse, whatever it is…it could spread to you too!"

Khael's tone softened, but his resolve was immovable.

"Mother, please… trust me."

Lito studied his son for a long breath then smiled, slow and proud.

The wind stirred his cloak. "You have a plan, don't you?"

Khael nodded once. "I do."

Lito's hand fell heavy on his shoulder, steady as stone. "Then we ride at dawn."

Lady Maricar's eyes shimmered fear, pride, and love entwined.

Ren clenched his fists, whispering, "Bring Brother Arden home…"

And Lyra pressed her hands together, Shinrei light glowing faintly between her fingers a silent prayer.

Khael looked toward the northern horizon, where dark clouds gathered like a scar.

His dragon blood stirred, a low rumble echoing in his veins.

(Brother… hold on. I'm coming.)

The dawn came late that day.

Clouds hung low over Corzedar Valley, heavy and bruised, as if the heavens themselves hesitated to watch what would come.

In the courtyard, the wind carried the scent of wet soil and steel. Horses stamped the ground, their breaths misting in the cold. Soldiers moved quietly not with the bravado of battle, but with the weight of men riding toward uncertainty.

Khael tightened the strap on his gauntlet, the silver scales glinting faintly under the morning haze. His cloak fluttered, dark blue edged with gold, the insignia of the Corzedar line stitched proudly on his back.

Beside him stood Lord Lito Corzedar, armor of windsteel polished to a dull gleam. The old general's expression was grim, but beneath it ran a steady fire, the same fire that once led armies through storms.

"Formation ready," one of the captains reported. "We've packed rations, Vein Beads, and sealing scrolls, my lord."

Lito nodded. "Good. We leave no trail. If this 'rot' spreads through emotion, even fear can become a contagion."

Khael looked toward the soldiers, thirty men and women of the Corzedar household, veterans bound by loyalty and blood. He could feel their Shinrei faintly pulsing — blue, green, some a trembling yellow. The wind whispered through their spirits like reeds bending before a storm.

Then Lito spoke again, his tone softer. "You don't have to come, son."

Khael met his father's gaze, eyes sharp yet calm. "You know I do."

Lito exhaled. "…Yeah. I knew you'd say that."

They mounted their steeds.

Maricar stood by the manor gates, her hand pressed to her heart. Behind her, Ren and Lyra waved, the girl's small Shinrei aura glowing faintly with Bloom light, a prayer of hope.

Khael raised his hand in farewell and then spurred his horse forward.

The gates opened with a heavy groan, and the wind surged to meet them.

Their convoy moved north, through valleys veiled in fog and roads lined with barren trees.

Hours passed.

The further they rode, the heavier the air became.

At first, it was only a tingle, the faint distortion of corrupted Shinrei. But soon, even the horses began to grow uneasy, hooves clattering nervously on stone.

One of the soldiers muttered, "Feels… wrong here. Like the world's holding its breath."

Khael closed his eyes, feeling it too, the pulse beneath the land.

It was uneven, broken… leaking emotion like open wounds.

Then he saw it, black wisps trailing across the grass, the earth itself scarred by veins of shadow.

"Stop."

The command left his lips cold and sharp.

The convoy halted immediately.

Lito turned to him. "You sense it too?"

Khael dismounted, crouching low as his hand brushed the soil. His Shinrei flared faintly, a golden and wind-touched.

The earth shivered under his touch.

Whispers, faint, hollow echoes of fear and pain brushed against his consciousness.

He frowned. "Vein Rot's spreading faster than the records said. It's not just affecting people… it's merging with the land."

Lito's jaw tightened. "Then your brother's camp…"

"…might already be within the infection zone," Khael finished grimly.

The soldiers exchanged uneasy glances.

Khael stood, brushing the dirt from his gloves. "Prepare a purification barrier here. No emotion leaks past this point. From now on, everyone suppress your Shinrei flow to minimum output."

"Yes, Lord Khael!"

As the men began to carve seals into the ground, Lito studied his son from behind, the confidence in his voice, the precision in his commands.

For the first time, he didn't see the boy who used to chase wind with bare feet.

He saw the Dragon Knight the world now whispered about, a man of power and grace, tempered by pain.

(My son… how much did you go through out there?)

The wind rose again, carrying the scent of ash and sorrow from the north.

Khael's eyes hardened.

Somewhere beyond that horizon, his brother awaited, surrounded by the rot of emotion gone wrong.

He whispered under his breath, low and steady, a vow.

"No curse takes my family. Not while I still breathe."

And with that, he stepped forward into the blackened path

the wind at his back, and a storm rising in his veins.

To be continue

Next chapter will be updated first on this website. Come back and continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

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.