After the decision was made, Kael joined the soldiers on their long march—wherever it was they were going.
He quickly realized how much he didn't know. So he stayed alert, listening intently to every murmur and side conversation around him. Every step forward was a step deeper into the unknown, and Kael's mind—once trained for war—now shifted into full reconnaissance mode.
Having once served as a vice commander, Kael's information-gathering skills were sharp. Even without powers, he knew how to survive—and knowledge was survival.
From the moment he saw their ranks, he estimated the force to consist of about four hundred soldiers. That meant there were plenty of conversations to overhear, and he took advantage of it.
Fortunately, they allowed him to walk freely—no ropes, no cuffs. He was grateful for that, but the freedom made him uneasy.
It's like they were daring him to do something stupid.
Each day, he slowly pieced things together. One overheard comment here. A dropped phrase there. And over the next five days of grueling travel, he'd gained quite a bit.
At first, his only source of information was eavesdropping. But gradually, he made a few acquaintances—soldiers who didn't mind answering some of his questions.
They had long since left the black sands behind. Now, their path cut through a vast and ancient forest.
Apparently, this whole journey was an escort mission. They were protecting a high-ranking figure within a heavily guarded carriage at the center of their formation—returning them from another faction back to their own.
Yes, Kael now understood that much.
The world was divided into five major powers, known as Fractions, each overseen by a central authority. Tensions between them were high. War, many believed, was inevitable.
The soldiers Kael traveled with belonged to the Fraction of Light, and they were heading back to its heart.
To his relief, most people in this world were normal—no powers, no gifts. But there was a notable exception: those blessed by Nebula, the divine source of power in this realm. These gifted individuals were called Bearers of Nebula, or simply Bearers.
Though Kael now knew more than he did five days ago, he still tread carefully. He only asked what he could afford to, avoiding anything that would seem too curious or suspicious.
This wasn't just a regular army—they were elite. If they didn't want him to hear something, he wouldn't. And not everyone was friendly. Some still watched him with suspicion, a few with quiet hostility.
He knew where they were coming from. He would've probably done the same if the roles were reversed.
"You can all take a break now!" shouted a man on horseback, from the forefront.
The soldiers gave a short salute by hitting their hands against their chest, creating a uniformed sound before relaxing. The speaker was the second-in-command, a man who often rode beside the Supreme Inquisitor.
Kael slumped onto a nearby rock, completely exhausted. Some soldiers chuckled or sneered at the sight, but he ignored them.
He felt embarrassed—but he just couldn't help it. His body wasn't yet conditioned for this kind of journey, though he could feel it growing stronger, little by little.
They typically marched for six hours straight before resting. While the others were used to it—He wasn't.
If it weren't for his willpower, he would've collapsed many times—just like he did on the first day.
A leather water bag landed against his chest.
"Drink up and hang on. We'll arrive soon," said one of the soldiers. He had brown hair and eyes and always wore a calm expression.
"You're doing very well. I'm actually surprised," said another, sitting down beside him. This one had long black hair tied in a ponytail and a more playful tone.
Both seemed to be in their late twenties.
Kael didn't know their names. They hadn't given them—and they weren't obligated to. In fact, it seemed like an unspoken rule among them: names were shared only under orders, among comrades, or with enemies before battle—as a sign of respect.
Right now, Kael didn't fall into any of those categories.
"How much longer would the journey take?" Kael asked.
"About three more days. If the road and weather favor us, maybe two," replied the brown-haired soldier.
Kael felt a wave of despair. Two to three more days? That felt like a death sentence to his aching legs.
"If you don't mind me asking… whose territory have we been in this whole time?" he added. The question had just come to mind.
"We're not in anyone's territory," the soldier explained. "This is the Great Expanse—a massive, neutral zone between all five fractions. It's dangerous, which is why we move in tight formation and never drop our guard. Not until we reach home."
It was common knowledge, apparently. But they didn't mind sharing. They were much kinder than he'd expected.
"WHEN YOU'VE RESTED, GATHER RESOURCES! WE MOVE IN TWO HOURS!" came a commanding voice from up ahead.
"You heard the boss," said the long-haired soldier as he stood. "There are rivers nearby. You should freshen up. Then gather anything you think might be useful."
They left, and Kael sat on the rock for another ten minutes.
He really needed a bath.
High above, seated on a large boulder overlooking the forest trail, the Supreme Inquisitor sat still—gazing into the distance.
A sealed bottle of wine rested beside him, untouched. His mind wandered, distant and deep.
Footsteps approached. Someone stopped a meter away and bowed slightly.
"Your Eminence," said General Admos, the second-in-command. "The escort within the carriage wishes to step out. They say they're growing restless. What are your orders?"
The Supreme Inquisitor didn't look away from the horizon. He simply nodded. "We cannot force them to stay. Just watch over them."
"As you command." Admos bowed again and left.
He returned to the carriage, which was positioned dead center in their formation—protected by their finest fighters.
With a bow, he addressed the interior. "Your Highnesses. The Supreme Inquisitor has granted permission. You may step outside."
The door opened with a soft click.
Out stepped a man in his early twenties.
His presence alone felt regal. Tall and slender, he moved with natural-born grace. His long black hair flowed behind, contrasting his pale skin and piercing green eyes.
A long, deep-green cloak embroidered with silver patterns flowed slightly in the breeze. Every inch of him spoke of nobility.
He scanned his surroundings before locking eyes with General Admos.
"Where's Night?" he asked.