Shadowbound, Rise of Kael Ardyan

The Day the Sky Shattered

The world remembered that day as The Fracture.

Twenty years ago, the skies cracked open, and rifts tore through the heavens. Through them came creatures that defied reason—beasts of flame, titans of stone, serpents with wings that blotted out the sun. Entire cities crumbled before humanity could even comprehend the invasion.

But humanity was not forsaken.

Some were chosen. Ordinary men and women awakened extraordinary abilities—strength to crush steel, speed faster than bullets, magic that bent the elements to their will. They became known as Wardens, the defenders of mankind, stepping into the rifts to slay the horrors within and seal the Gates before the monsters spilled across the world.

The world learned to breathe again.

Yet even among the Wardens, there was a hierarchy. At the top stood the Sovereigns, beings so powerful they could annihilate armies alone. At the bottom… were the Forgotten. Weak, powerless, ridiculed—barely able to survive in the dungeons.

And no one was more Forgotten than Kael Ardyn.

Kael stood at the edge of a glowing rift, clutching his rusted short sword so tightly his knuckles whitened. Around him, the raid party laughed, their gleaming armor and enchanted weapons a cruel reminder of how little he belonged here.

“Don’t fall behind, Kael,” one sneered. “Or the goblins will eat you before we do.”

Another chuckled. “Don’t bother. He’ll probably trip and die before then.”

Kael said nothing. He was used to it.

At twenty-one, he was still classified as an F-Rank Warden—the lowest possible tier. His stats were pitiful, his mana nearly nonexistent. He had failed more training exams than anyone else in the guild. The only reason he still fought was because of his sister, Lyra, lying in a hospital bed, her body wasting away from a curse no healer could touch.

Hunting paid for her treatment. That was all that mattered.

The Gate before them pulsed like a living wound, its surface rippling with violet light. The raid leader, a smug B-rank fire mage, raised his staff.

“Standard formation. Clear it quick, take the loot, and go home.”

The others cheered. Kael forced his trembling legs to move, stepping into the rift.

Darkness swallowed him.

The dungeon was colder than ice, its cavern walls etched with symbols that flickered faintly. As the party pushed deeper, monsters rushed from the shadows—fang-mawed goblins and wolf-beasts with molten eyes. Kael fought clumsily, his dull blade bouncing off thick hides. Every strike reminded him how weak he was.

Then they found it.

A second chamber. Hidden. Massive doors sealed shut with glowing chains.

The leader’s eyes gleamed with greed. “Jackpot.”

The others hesitated. The chains pulsed with ominous energy, and the runes felt older than time itself. But greed won, as it always did. They broke the seal.

The doors groaned open.

Inside was no treasure. Only silence. And in the silence… a throne of black stone. Upon it sat a colossal figure, armored in shadows, eyes burning like dying stars.

The Shadow Monarch.

Its gaze fell upon them. Most of the raid collapsed instantly, blood pouring from their eyes and ears. Screams filled the chamber. Kael staggered, his vision blurring—yet he did not fall.

The Monarch’s voice rumbled, ancient and cruel.

“At last… a vessel worthy of my chains.”

Darkness surged toward him, sinking into his veins like fire and frost combined. Kael’s body convulsed, his scream echoing through the cavern as black marks carved themselves into his skin.

When he opened his eyes again, the raid was gone—burned to ash. Only Kael remained, kneeling before the empty throne.

A single message burned in the air before him, glowing crimson:

[System Initiated]

You have inherited the Shadowbound Legacy.

Level: 1

Kael’s breath shook, his heart hammering.

For the first time in his life… he was no longer weak.

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