Pain.
That was the first thing Kael felt. It was hot, sharp and everywhere. It was like waking up after being crushed by a mountain, then dragged across ten more for good measure.
His eyes slowly blinked open, squinting at the soft morning light pouring in through a cracked wooden window.
His body refused to move. Both arms were wrapped tightly in something that looked like cloth but shimmered slightly like tree sap mixed with glass, hard yet flexible, clearly not made by any regular person.
His ankle throbbed like a drumbeat of doom, and when he tried to shift it even a little, lightning bolts of agony ran up his spine.
Great. Just fantastic.
He took a slow breath and tilted his head, scanning the room. It was barebones; just a rickety bed with itchy-looking straw, a wooden table, and the faint smell of crushed herbs and alcohol in the air.
Despite the pain, Kael's mind was already racing. He knew at once that he was most likely still inside one of the remaining available rooms in the hideout.
That meant he was safe. That also meant he still had a bandit group to revive.
He went over everything that had happened; from waking up in this cursed world, finding the ruins of the Crimson Maw, Helga trying to kill him, recruiting her again, and then that ridiculously powerful fallen trying to drag him into a life-draining death formation like some kind of clingy ex.
The whole ordeal had nearly killed him. Again!
Still, he was alive. And as long as he was alive, the Crimson Maw wasn't dead. Not yet.
He started listing things in his head, organizing the chaos into neat mental bullet points. These were the goals he needed to achieve in order to fully consider the Crimson Maw as revived.
First, they needed people—loyal ones. Not random thugs but warriors with potential.
Second, they needed food and supplies. Kael couldn't build an empire on empty stomachs.
Third, territory. The valley was a good base location, but it wasn't secure yet. Monsters still prowled the edges.
Fourth, information. He needed to know what kingdoms ruled nearby, which groups to avoid, who might come for his head if they realized he was back.
Fifth, money. This one needed no explanation.
And sixth, most importantly, power. Not just strength, but real influence. If he was going to rebuild, he had to do it smarter this time.
No more dying like a dog in the mud!
Creak!
The door creaked open. Kael turned his head, expecting to see a bloodied, wounded gladiatrix holding a dagger. What he got instead was a different Helga.
Kael blinked. His brows raised in surprise.
Helga had taken a bath. All the blood, dirt, and sweaty grime that usually clung to her like a badge of honor was gone.
Her long black hair was tied back, her bronze skin was polished clean, and she wore a simple blouse and shorts that, frankly, did nothing to hide the fact that she was built like a goddess of war and thighs!
Kael's brain did a double take. He had always known Helga was attractive in that terrifying "I-could-break-your-neck-and-still-look-good-doing-it" kind of way, but clean Helga?
Clean Helga was unfair!
He stared at her for another long second, eyes roving over the lean muscle and the firm set of her jaw.
"You know," he muttered dryly, "you're even more dangerous when clean. That body could raise a holy war."
Helga blinked once, slowly. "You look like death."
Kael snorted, immediately regretting it when pain lanced through his ribs. "Flirting with a corpse is still flirting."
"A little." She walked to the side of the bed, gaze sweeping over his broken limbs and the reinforced bandages.
Her voice remained quiet and matter-of-fact. "The potions in storage were old, but they worked. You'll heal in a few more days. I've stabilized your bones with a local resin cast—sticky stuff, sets like stone. I did what I could with what we had."
Her words were direct, simple, without any fluff or embellishment. But Kael could hear the care behind them, buried under that rock-hard shell.
She didn't say it, but she had sat beside him. She had watched over him. She had done her best.
"And the others?" he asked, though he already knew.
"Buried. West ridge. I marked their graves." Her lips thinned. "Some of the buildings were half-ruined from the earlier ambush. I patched what I could. Cleared rubble. There's some food and water again. Not much else."
Kael nodded slowly. His body screamed, but his brain was already shifting gears. It never stopped moving, not even when he was stuck in bed with a mangled frame. "You've done well."
Helga said nothing to that. No thanks, no smug look. Just a short dip of her head.
"Get me something to eat," Kael said after a pause, lips twitching in a weak smile. "I'm starving. I might have survived the Fallen, but hunger's about to finish the job."
She gave a curt nod and turned to go. When she left, Kael finally let out a slow breath. She was… loyal. Strong. Capable.
After everything, she could have left him for dead. But she didn't. He owed her for that. And after dying once already, Kael had decided he would never take people like her for granted again.
Subordinates were the foundation of any empire. Treat them like pawns, and they'll break. Treat them like cherished weapons, and they'll sharpen themselves for you.
He tilted his head back, letting his thoughts drift to plans. Recruitment, funding, training camps. Supply chains. Communication networks.
What kind of warriors he wanted in the new Crimson Maw. He could already see the map forming in his head.
Then… burning!
Out of nowhere, his chest flared with white-hot pain.
The tattoo on his chest that had been so quiet lately suddenly screamed with power. His breath hitched. The room blurred.
Kael's body went rigid. The pain wasn't like his arms or his ankle; it was deeper. It came from his soul, like something inside him was being peeled open with a red-hot knife.
He grit his teeth and tried to stay conscious, but his vision started tunneling. Darkness bled in from the edges.
"What the hell—" he muttered, eyes wide.
The burning grew stronger. The tattoo on his chest began to pulse, glowing faintly beneath his torn shirt. It was reacting to something, but what?
He didn't get the answer.
His body convulsed once, then everything went black.
Kael's head slumped to the side, unconscious once more.