Chapter 5: The First Kill
892 Words
The orphanage creaked in the silence of midnight. Most of the children lay asleep on their thin mats, their breathing heavy, their dreams filled with hunger and fear.
But Kael was not asleep.
He sat on his bed, the Devil’s Dagger resting across his knees, its crimson glow faint under the pale silver light of the moon. His eyes were sharp, his thoughts restless.
The System’s message still floated before him.
[Side Quest: Spill Blood Under the Moon.]
[Requirement: Kill an enemy before dawn.]
[Reward: +15 BP, Skill Upgrade.]
Kael’s chest rose and fell steadily. He could feel the System pressing against his mind, whispering, demanding.
“Kill. Feed me. Do not waste the night.”
His hand tightened around the dagger. He had spilled blood earlier, but the hunger of the System was endless. It wanted more.
And so did he.
This wasn’t just about points. It wasn’t just about quests. It was about his path. The boy who had once cowered under Brann’s fists was gone. Tonight, he would prove it.
A creak sounded in the hall outside. Heavy footsteps, dragging, careless. Brann’s voice muttered, low and drunk with anger.
“I’ll gut that rat… show him who’s master…”
Kael’s eyes narrowed. Fate had delivered the answer.
Brann.
The bully was too blind with rage to realize what he was walking into. He thought Kael was still weak, still a rat to be crushed under his boot.
But tonight, Brann would be Kael’s offering.
Kael rose silently, his dagger clutched tight. He slipped from his room, his feet light against the wooden floor. The torch at the end of the hall flickered, casting long shadows across the cracked walls.
Brann stumbled into the corridor, half-dressed, his leg still bandaged from Kael’s earlier strike. His two lackeys trailed behind him, whispering nervously.
“Maybe we should wait until tomorrow, Brann…” one said.
“Shut up,” Brann growled. “I’ll end him tonight.”
Kael stepped from the shadows. The dagger caught the torchlight, its glow sharp and menacing.
Brann froze. His face twisted into a snarl, though Kael could see the flicker of fear in his eyes.
“You—” Brann spat. “You dare show your face?”
Kael’s voice was low, steady, like cold steel sliding from its sheath. “You wanted me. Here I am.”
The lackeys shifted uneasily. One whispered, “Brann, maybe—”
But Brann roared, charging forward. His fists swung wide, reckless.
Kael’s body moved like water. He sidestepped, the Aura of Fear pressing against Brann’s chest like a weight. The dagger slashed across his arm.
Blood sprayed. Brann cried out, stumbling back.
Kael advanced without pause. His dagger gleamed red, his eyes burning. He struck again, this time cutting across Brann’s thigh. The bully fell to one knee, his face pale, his breath ragged.
The lackeys panicked. One rushed forward, swinging a broken stick. Kael’s dagger flashed. The stick clattered to the floor, and the boy’s forearm split open, blood running fast.
The second lackey fled down the hall, screaming.
Kael’s gaze returned to Brann.
The bully was on the ground now, clutching his bleeding leg, his eyes wide. The arrogance, the cruelty, the smirks—gone. All that remained was terror.
“P-please,” Brann stammered, his voice cracking. “Don’t—don’t kill me. I’ll leave you alone. I swear!”
Kael crouched in front of him. His face was calm, but his eyes were colder than ice.
“Do you know what it means to be powerless?” Kael asked softly. “To kneel, to beg, to suffer under someone else’s boot?”
Brann’s lips trembled. “I—”
Kael’s dagger pressed against his throat, silencing him.
“That was my life once,” Kael whispered. “But no more.”
The blade slid across.
Blood gushed, warm and thick. Brann gurgled, clawing at his neck, his eyes wide with shock. His body convulsed once, twice, then stilled.
The hall was silent. Only the sound of Brann’s blood dripping to the floor remained.
The System roared.
[Ding! Quest Complete.]
[+15 Blood Points.]
[Skill Upgrade: Savage Strike → Crimson Slash.]
Kael’s body trembled as the power surged through him. His veins burned, his muscles tightened. The dagger glowed brighter, drinking deeply from the fresh kill.
[Crimson s***h: A strike infused with bloodlust. Deals double damage when the enemy is bleeding.]
Kael rose slowly, the dagger in his hand alive with dark energy. His chest heaved, his breath sharp.
Brann’s corpse lay at his feet, eyes frozen in terror, mouth open in a silent scream.
Kael stared down at him for a long moment, then whispered, “You were the first. But not the last.”
The lackey who had run away would spread the word by dawn. Fear would ripple through the orphanage like fire in dry grass. And Kael welcomed it.
Fear was his ally. Fear was his weapon.
The System’s whisper curled in his ear, cold and satisfied. “Yes. More. Always more.”
Kael smirked. He sheathed the dagger beneath his cloak, his steps steady as he returned to his room.
The night outside was silent, but the world had shifted.
Kael Draven, reborn with the Devil’s System, had claimed his first true life.
And the Devil’s heir had begun his reign.
- Writer
