📖 Eclipse Hunter

Arc I — The Abyss Awakens

Chapter 1: The Dungeon That Refused to Die

The stench of blood and stone dust clung to the collapsing cavern.

Kael staggered forward, his breaths ragged, every exhale tasting of iron. The dungeon core had already cracked, its once blinding light now a dim ember flickering between the jagged rocks. Hunters lay scattered—friends, rivals, and strangers alike—reduced to lifeless husks by the dungeon’s final death throes.

Yet Kael alone remained standing. Barely.

A fissure in the air yawned open before him, a slit of writhing blackness. It whispered, voices overlapping like a thousand dying echoes. His instincts screamed to run, yet his feet dragged him closer, as if the abyss itself had coiled chains around his soul.

"Successor…" the whispers crooned. "Heir to the shadows…"

Kael’s vision blurred. His sword clattered from his fingers. He reached toward the darkness without meaning to. And in that moment—

A pulse.

A cold rush spread through his veins, like liquid night itself had invaded his blood. The fissure devoured the dying dungeon, swallowing stone and corpses alike, until only Kael remained at the center of the void.

Then the world snapped back.

When Kael opened his eyes, he was lying on rubble under a pale shaft of moonlight. His body screamed in protest, but his heartbeat was steady. Too steady.

And then he noticed it.

A shadow—small, four-legged, and definitely alive—sat on his chest, staring at him with glowing silver eyes.

“…You’ve got to be kidding me.”

The creature yipped. A wolf pup. Pitch-black fur, ears too large for its head, and a faint shimmer of abyssal energy curling off its body like smoke.

Kael groaned, pushing himself up. The pup refused to budge and instead barked once, sharp and commanding.

Kael: “Out of all the powers in the abyss, I get… a furball?!”

The pup responded by biting his cloak and tugging, as though trying to drag him upright. Kael glared at it.

Kael: “You’re supposed to be my summon, right? My servant?”

The wolf barked again. Then, with all the seriousness in the world, it turned… and squatted right on a broken sword sticking out of the ground.

Kael pinched the bridge of his nose.

Kael: “Fantastic. My grand destiny begins with a dog that pees on weapons.”

The pup wagged its tail proudly.

Despite his protests, Kael forced himself to stand, his new shadow lingering unnaturally at his feet. Every step felt heavy, yet his wounds had already begun knitting closed. He didn’t understand it—but he wasn’t about to waste the miracle.

He limped toward the dungeon’s ruined exit, the wolf trotting at his side. For a moment, amidst the silence of corpses and rubble, he muttered bitterly:

Kael: “…Guess it’s just you and me now, pup.”

The wolf barked softly, as if in agreement.

Kael didn’t realize it then, but that ridiculous little beast would be the first thing to make him smile in a long, long time.

Chapter 2: A Hunter without a guild

The city of Eryndral always smelled faintly of smoke and steel.

Kael limped through the outer gates at dawn, his battered cloak dragging against the cobblestones. The watchmen at the gate gawked at him—bloodied, exhausted, carrying no trophies. Survivors of dungeon collapses were rare enough. Survivors who walked out alone were even rarer.

At his heel padded the black wolf pup, tail wagging proudly as though it had slain the dungeon itself. The guards whispered, half in awe, half in suspicion.

Kael ignored them. His only thought was: Food. Bed. Maybe both at once.

---

Inside the Guild Hall, the air was thick with the stench of sweat and ale. Hunters lounged around, boasting of victories, trading loot. The moment Kael entered, silence followed him like a creeping shadow.

The receptionist blinked at him.

Receptionist: “Kael Draven? Weren’t you assigned to the Ironfang raid party?”

Kael’s jaw clenched. He remembered their screams, the way the dungeon had devoured them.

Kael (flat): “They didn’t make it.”

Murmurs rippled through the hall. Suspicion. Fear. Hunters glanced at him like he was cursed.

Receptionist: “…And the core?”

Kael dropped a cracked shard of obsidian onto the counter. The wolf pup immediately jumped up, tried to snatch it, and nearly toppled the ledger.

Kael: “Don’t even think about it.”

The pup whined and sat down, ears flat, pretending to be the most innocent creature alive. A few hunters chuckled nervously.

But the Guildmaster’s booming voice cut through.

Guildmaster: “Draven. My office. Now.”

---

The Guildmaster was a mountain of a man, scarred and stern. His eyes scanned Kael like one might study a blade that was sharp but unstable.

Guildmaster: “A whole raid party dead. And you come back alive. With… a dog.”

The wolf barked indignantly, as if deeply offended by the term.

Kael (dry): “He’s house-trained. Mostly.”

The Guildmaster wasn’t amused.

Guildmaster: “You expect me to believe you had nothing to do with their deaths? That you aren’t harboring some forbidden power?”

Kael’s fists clenched, but before he could retort—

The office door creaked open.

---

She stepped in like dawn cutting through a storm: Seraphine Vale, the Guild’s resident healer. Auburn hair tied neatly, soft green eyes sharper than they appeared, carrying a satchel of herbs.

Seraphine (calm): “Guildmaster, if you’re done accusing half-dead men, perhaps I should do my job?”

Her gaze landed on Kael. For a moment, it lingered.

Then she knelt beside him without hesitation, hands glowing faintly as she inspected his injuries.

Seraphine (softly): “You’re burning up. How long have you been walking?”

Kael blinked, caught off-guard. Most hunters looked at him with suspicion. She looked at him with… concern.

Kael (gruff): “Since last night.”

Seraphine (arching a brow): “And you didn’t think to stop and rest? Or at least find water?”

Kael: “…Dungeon collapses don’t come with tea breaks.”

She gave him a look. A look that said she was very close to smacking him with her satchel.

---

As she worked, Kael felt heat rise to his cheeks—not from her healing magic, but from the closeness. He hadn’t been touched gently in years.

Shade, apparently jealous, climbed onto Kael’s lap and stared right at Seraphine, growling faintly.

Seraphine (smiling faintly): “Is this little one always this protective?”

Kael (muttering): “He’s usually too busy stealing food to care.”

The wolf sneezed, showering Kael’s tunic in dust.

Seraphine laughed—a clear, warm sound that filled the cold office like sunlight.

Kael looked away quickly, pretending to scowl.

---

When she finished, she rose gracefully.

Seraphine (to Guildmaster): “He’s injured, but alive. If you’re going to question him, let him eat first. Or do you want him collapsing mid-sentence?”

The Guildmaster grumbled but waved them off.

Kael stood, awkwardly adjusting his cloak.

Kael (gruff, to Seraphine): “…Thanks.”

She smiled, just a hint.

Seraphine: “Try not to make a habit of nearly dying. It’ll make my work much easier.”

Her words were teasing, but her eyes… they lingered on him a heartbeat longer than necessary.

Kael didn’t know it then, but that moment would root itself deep inside him, a fragile warmth fighting against the abyss that had claimed his soul.

---

Chapter 3: Shadows Learn to Bite

The training fields behind the Guild were nearly empty at dawn. Only the sound of Kael’s blade echoed, steel slicing through the cold air.

Or rather—it would have echoed, if not for the black wolf pup running circles around him, barking at every swing.

Kael (panting): “Shade. For the love of all the gods—stop distracting me.”

The pup barked louder, then lunged at his feet, nearly tripping him mid-swing. Kael stumbled, cursed, and dropped his stance entirely.

Kael (glowering): “You’re supposed to be a shadow beast. Not a… shoe-chewing menace.”

Shade proudly trotted over with Kael’s bootlace dangling from his mouth.

---

As the sun climbed, Kael pushed harder. Each swing of his blade now left behind a faint trail of black mist, a lingering echo of the abyssal power flowing through him. When he focused, that mist coiled around him—living, writhing—and extended like claws, slicing deeper than steel.

It felt intoxicating. And terrifying.

Kael paused, staring at his own hand as tendrils of shadow wrapped around his fingers. The dungeon’s whispers still echoed faintly in his skull.

"Successor… Heir to the shadows…"

He clenched his fist until the mist dissipated.

---

A slow clap broke the silence.

Kael stiffened, turning sharply—only to find Seraphine leaning against the fence, a faint smile playing at her lips.

Seraphine: “I see you’re keeping busy.”

Kael frowned. Why was she always showing up when he least wanted witnesses?

Kael: “Spying on people this early? Thought healers preferred cozy beds.”

Seraphine (smirking): “Someone has to make sure you don’t slice yourself in half. Or trip over your… very fierce wolf.”

Shade barked proudly, tail wagging. Then immediately faceplanted into Kael’s dropped boot.

Kael groaned.

Kael: “…I hate my life.”

---

Before he could retort further, a shadow loomed over them.

It was Rylan Veyr, captain of the Silver Spear squad—the Guild’s golden boy. Tall, polished armor, smirk carved permanently onto his face.

Rylan (mocking): “So this is the ‘sole survivor.’ Training already? Brave… or desperate.”

Kael’s grip on his sword tightened.

Kael (flat): “You need something, Veyr?”

Rylan (grinning): “Guildmaster wants proof you’re not hiding something. You’ll join me on today’s culling mission. We’ll see if you’re worth keeping… or branding.”

His gaze flicked to Seraphine, then back to Kael, smirk widening.

Rylan: “And if you get in my way, I won’t hesitate.”

Kael said nothing. His silence was sharper than any blade.

---

The mission was simple—or so it seemed. A small infestation of lesser shades in the forest outskirts. Rylan’s squad marched in gleaming formation. Kael followed behind, Shade trotting at his side like an overeager scout.

But the “lesser shades” were more dangerous than reported.

The trees themselves bent under the weight of black mist. Figures crawled from the roots, whispering in forgotten tongues. The other hunters faltered—but Kael felt a strange calm. The abyss recognized him.

He stepped forward, shadows coiling around him.

Kael (low, to Shade): “Let’s hunt.”

---

The battle was chaos. Rylan’s spears flashed, but the swarm grew. Hunters were dragged screaming into the dark.

Kael raised his hand—and his shadow stretched, splitting into wolves, tendrils, blades of night. Shade howled, and the abyss answered, tearing through the shades with savage precision.

The hunters froze, terror and awe mixing in their eyes.

Hunter (whispering): “He… he commands the dark…”

Kael ignored them. His focus narrowed to the fight, to the intoxicating rhythm of blade and shadow. For the first time, he felt alive.

---

When the last creature fell, silence descended.

Rylan stepped forward, his spear tip aimed at Kael’s throat.

Rylan (cold): “You think that power makes you one of us? No. It makes you a threat.”

Before Kael could respond—Seraphine’s voice cut through from the treeline.

Seraphine (sharp): “Put that spear down, Veyr. He just saved your squad.”

She stepped into the clearing, cloak rustling. Her eyes flicked to Kael—concern and… something softer lingering there.

Kael averted his gaze quickly, but Shade immediately trotted over to her and licked her hand.

Kael (deadpan): “Traitor.”

Seraphine laughed softly.

Seraphine: “Maybe he just knows who the kinder master is.”

Kael felt heat creep up his neck. He turned away, pretending to clean his blade.

---