The forest fell still again.

Not the hush of sleep or wind—but a deeper stillness. One born of presence. Something vast had stepped into the world and the world, in return, held its breath.

Kiro stood in the clearing surrounded by corpses. His veins hummed with energy, Blood Venom pulsing at his side like a living thing, whispering for more.

Then came the sound.

Not the crack of thunder.

Not the whine of engines.

No—this was the sound of metal claws scraping stone. Of war-bred muscles dragging bone and fury across ruined soil.

Kiro turned slowly.

The dropship didn't blaze in like the last. It descended like a sovereign—deliberate, controlled. A massive silhouette of midnight alloy and sigil-etched plating. Its hatch hissed, pressure releasing, and the ramp unfurled like a tongue from a leviathan's maw.

And then he saw him.

Rhel Varas.

No armor. Just a black coat threaded with command runes and old blood. His left arm was bare, marked from shoulder to wrist in the twin languages of Viora and Dominion. Eyes silver with cybernetic interface, but behind them—something older. Something watching.

At his side, they came:

The Hounds.

Four of them.

No breed Kiro recognized. Bioengineered war-beasts, hunched and trembling with restrained hunger. Muscle piled over plated bones. Jaws split down the center. Each had a mask—iron-faced, with crimson lenses for eyes.

One sniffed the air and let out a low, gurgling growl.

Kiro didn't flinch.

Rhel descended the ramp and said nothing for a long time. Just looked.

Then, he spoke. His voice wasn't loud. It didn't need to be.

"You killed six of my Viora."

Kiro stared back. "They drew first blood."

"That's not what matters."

Rhel stepped off the ramp, boots pressing into soft moss. The hounds followed, flanking him like a dark crown.

"What matters… is that you learned them."

The last word carried a pulse. Not sound. Something deeper. A frequency that made the air around Kiro buzz—as if reality itself bowed to this man's will.

Kiro's fingers curled around Blood Venom's hilt, the blade flickering between states. Spear. Blade. Whip. It hadn't decided what it wanted to be yet.

Neither had he.

Rhel stopped ten paces away.

"Tell me, slave. Did the thing inside you speak yet?"

Kiro narrowed his eyes. "It doesn't need to. I understand it."

Rhel nodded, as if he'd expected the answer.

"The Blood God was a liar. But even lies leave teeth behind."

Kiro raised his chin. "And you came to break mine?"

"No." Rhel unslung a long, narrow weapon from his back—a Viora staff, etched with lineage glyphs. "I came to see if you were worth remembering."

The first hound lunged.

Kiro moved—barely fast enough.

The beast hit the ground where he'd stood a heartbeat ago, jaws snapping air. Kiro twisted, slashing across its side. Blood Venom hissed, drinking deep—but the hound didn't fall. It shrieked and spun, tail arcing like a blade.

The second was already behind him.

Claws raked his shoulder. Not deep—but enough to draw blood.

Enough to make the System growl.

Core Stimulus Registered.Viora Pressure: High-tier.Apostolic Growth Threshold Nearing.

Kiro leapt back, breathing hard. Not from exhaustion. From clarity. This wasn't a hunt anymore.

This was a test.

Rhel hadn't drawn his weapon yet.

The third hound circled. The fourth crouched low, waiting for the cue. Kiro was surrounded—but not panicked.

The Blood in him churned. His cells screamed for violence. For transcendence.

"I'm not like the others," Kiro said quietly.

Rhel tilted his head. "I know. That's why I haven't killed you yet."

The hounds struck again—this time together.

Kiro didn't retreat.

He met them.