Kaen didn't wait for orders.
The second he recognized the crimson insignia—the fanged flame curled into an ouroboros—his instincts took over. Fire swirled around his arms in ribbons, glowing with golden threads unlike before.
The Ashbound Order.
The hunters of corrupted flame. The slayers of "unstable anomalies." The cult that claimed to protect the world from those like him.
But Kaen knew better. They weren't protectors.
They were executioners.
"You shouldn't exist," one masked figure snarled as he approached through the blaze, drawing twin crescent blades etched in bone.
Kaen's feet shifted subtly, centering his weight. His breath slowed. Behind him, Mira raised her bow, Selyra whispered an incantation, and Tane cracked his neck with a grin.
"I exist anyway," Kaen said quietly, then launched forward.
The fight was chaos laced in fire.
The Ashbound were trained, disciplined, and completely unafraid to die. But Kaen—Kaen was burning with something more than power.
Conviction.
One hunter lunged. Kaen dodged, grabbing the man's cloak and igniting it mid-spin. Another hurled a spear of obsidian glass—only for Mira's arrow to intercept it in the air. Tane charged two at once, laughing like a boulder with legs. Selyra summoned barriers that shimmered like moonlight, keeping villagers behind her safe.
But Kaen's focus was on the leader.
A tall figure with a tattered red cape, his mask gold-trimmed, his aura crackling with a corrupted energy that shouldn't have belonged to the Ashbound.
"You wield the Vault's flame," the commander said as they circled one another.
Kaen's brows furrowed. "You know about it?"
"I know it should have remained sealed," the man growled. "And now, you've disturbed the balance."
He struck.
Faster than expected.
Their flames collided—Kaen's golden-orange fire versus the commander's sickly, violet blaze.
This wasn't pure fire. This was… twisted.
The clash sent shockwaves through the hollow, shattering glass and setting trees ablaze. Kaen skidded back, chest heaving. His right arm—still marked with fire veins from the shard—glowed brighter now.
He could feel it—the Firebearer's strength responding to danger.
But that power came with memories. Visions not his own. Voices not his own. And pain that felt like his own.
He gritted his teeth and pressed forward.
With a roar, Kaen channeled everything—every ounce of fear, doubt, and rage—into his flame. The golden fire exploded into a wave, engulfing the battlefield and swallowing the commander in a sunburst of light.
Silence followed.
Then ash.
When the smoke cleared, the commander was gone. Only a scorched insignia remained.
Kaen collapsed to his knees.
He hadn't just fought the Ashbound.
He'd been seen by them.
Marked.
Targeted.
And they wouldn't stop until he was either theirs—or dead.
Mira placed a hand on his shoulder. "They'll come again."
"I know," Kaen said quietly. "Next time, I'll be ready."
But part of him wondered…
Would he still be Kaen by then?
Or something else entirely?