Thorne blinked at the notifications, his mind struggling to process what he was seeing. He lay there, surrounded by the wreckage of the forest, his body aching from the battle and the explosion, but the words before him were pulling his attention in an entirely different direction.

  New traits?

  He wasn’t unfamiliar with power surging through him—he’d been born with the unique trait of the Elder Race, able to wield raw aether in ways that others couldn’t. But that trait had been with him since birth, something that was part of his very existence. The idea that he could gain new traits after battle, or worse, after breaking ancient magic? That was something he had never imagined.

  His mind raced, trying to make sense of it. His only experience with traits was the one he had inherited by birthright—the Elder Race’s ability to tap into the raw aetheric flows of the world. He had always assumed it was something unique to him, a reflection of his lineage, not something that could evolve or be acquired.

  But this was different. This was new.

  He rubbed his temples, groaning as the ache in his head persisted. The notifications still blinked in his peripheral vision, waiting for him to acknowledge them fully. His heart was still pounding from the aftermath of the explosion, his body weak from exhaustion, but curiosity gnawed at him.

  What the hell is this?

  Thorne took a breath and focused, bringing the notifications back into view. His confusion only deepened as the words solidified before him.

  Achievement Unlocked: Veilbreaker.

  You have shattered an ancient and powerful spell, becoming a Veilbreaker—one capable of sensing aetheric disruptions. While this trait does not grant you immense raw power, it allows you to perceive hidden magical forces and detect aetheric flows that others cannot, making you uniquely dangerous to spellcasters and illusionists.

  Trait Acquired: Veilbreaker.

  You can now sense aetheric disruptions around you. This passive ability allows you to feel the presence of magic, revealing the existence of illusions, magical entities, or wards nearby. While you cannot yet unravel these forces, your sensitivity to them is a first step toward greater mastery.

  Abilities:

  Passive: Veil Sense: You gain a passive sense for detecting aetheric disruptions around you. If a magical entity or spell is nearby, you feel a faint “tug” in your consciousness, alerting you to the presence of magic. This sensitivity doesn’t give you precise information but helps you stay alert in magical environments.

  Thorne stared at the words, his mind struggling to grasp what he was reading. His fingers twitched, feeling a new awareness creeping into his senses. The forest around him, quiet and still, seemed to hum with a low, almost imperceptible vibration—like a faint thrumming just at the edge of his consciousness. His instincts flared, and he could sense it now: the subtle currents of aether, the lingering traces of magic in the air, the aftermath of the cataclysm he had triggered.

  It was as if the world had opened a new layer to him, a hidden dimension of power and magic he had never been able to perceive before.

  He rubbed his eyes, still bewildered. This wasn’t some ordinary skill or ability—this was something entirely new. He had become a Veilbreaker, capable of sensing the very fabric of magic around him. He couldn't unravel it yet—that much was clear—but the fact that he could even perceive these forces… it was staggering.

  Before he could fully process the implications, another notification flashed into view, making his pulse quicken.

  Achievement Unlocked: Lunar Champion.

  You have slain the ancient moon guardian, the Lunaris Panthera, and inherited its power. As a result, you are now bound to the cycles of the moon, gaining strength and abilities that fluctuate with its phases.

  Trait Acquired: Lunar Champion.

  You are now a bearer of forgotten lunar magic. The power of the moon flows through you, granting you unique abilities tied to its cycle.

  Abilities:

  Passive: Lunar Regeneration: You gain the ability to heal slowly when exposed to moonlight. Even a sliver of moonlight accelerates your recovery, and during a full moon, your healing is dramatically enhanced, allowing you to recover from non-fatal injuries at an increased rate.

  The words were there, clear as day, but they almost didn’t make sense. He had inherited the power of the Lunaris Panthera—the ancient moon guardian—and now, the moon itself would influence him, healing his wounds when its light touched him.

  Thorne could barely comprehend it. He instinctively flexed his fingers, feeling the faint pulse of the moon’s magic already working inside him. The lingering cuts and bruises from the battle, while still painful, were mending, little by little, under the thin light of the waxing crescent moon above.

  How is this even possible?

  The notion that he was now bound to something as vast and timeless as the moon was overwhelming. His strength, his very abilities, would wax and wane with the moon’s phases. It wasn’t just about raw power anymore; it was about timing, about understanding the rhythms of the world itself.

  Thorne’s eyes scanned the forest canopy, glimpsing slivers of moonlight cutting through the shattered trees. He had to admit, the thought of being stronger under the full moon, able to regenerate in the heat of battle, was… reassuring. But it also filled him with a sense of unease. What would happen when the moon was new, when the sky was empty, and darkness reigned? Would he be weaker, more vulnerable?

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  The thought left him cold.

  Another notification blinked into view, and this time, it was more ominous.

  New Trait Evolution System Unlocked: Traits can evolve.

  By siphoning aether from fallen foes and unlocking ancient abilities, your traits can evolve into more powerful forms. The aether you absorb feeds into your core, allowing for new abilities and transformations.

  Thorne froze.

  Siphoning aether?

  The realization hit him hard, the words leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. He had never heard of anything like that. Absorbing aether from dead foes, using it to grow stronger—it was foreign, alien. But then something darker slithered into his thoughts, making his skin crawl.

  It was exactly what people did to his kind.

  The Elder Races had always hidden, his family had lived in secret for years, and in the end, it hadn’t been enough. The same people who now coveted power had murdered them for their cores, for the very essence of their being. And now here he was… doing the same. Not to the Elder Race, no, but siphoning aether from dead foes to gain power was eerily similar to what those hunters had done to his family.

  And now, he thought bitterly, I’m no different from them.

  The irony wasn’t lost on him. The very thing that had destroyed his family, the thing that had driven them into hiding, had become his path to survival. He had never wanted this—never wanted to take from others. But here he was, standing on the same precipice. The choice before him was stark: siphon power or die.

  For a moment, his hands shook. What would his parents think if they saw him now? What would they say, knowing that to grow stronger, to survive, he had to tread the same dark path that had led to their destruction? A cold wave of guilt washed over him, but beneath that, there was something darker, more primal—a hunger for survival, no matter the cost.

  He clenched his fists, pushing the thought away. There was no room for morality here, not when his very existence was at stake. This was the path the world had set him on, and he would walk it, no matter how much it sickened him.

  His jaw tightened, a wave of revulsion mixing with the cold realization that if he wanted to survive, this was the path he would have to walk. He had become a Veilbreaker, a Lunar Champion, and now… he would need to siphon aether to evolve these traits, to gain strength. Just like the people who hunted his family had taken their cores to become more powerful.

  It was undeniable. Power had its cost.

  Thorne exhaled slowly, his hands trembling as he closed the notifications. The weight of the new traits settled over him like a cloak, heavy and daunting.

  He needed to move.

  Pushing himself to his feet, Thorne winced as pain flared in his ribs. His body was weak, but the Lunar Regeneration was working. Slowly, steadily, he was healing. The faint light of the moon brushed his skin, feeding the magic that now pulsed through his veins.

  As he staggered through the wreckage of the forest, his thoughts swirling with uncertainty, something became obvious., a strange silence hung over the forest. It wasn’t just quiet—it was unnaturally still. The trees around him were shattered, broken branches littering the ground like the aftermath of a great storm, but there was something more unsettling about the scene. No birds called from the trees, no rustle of animals moving through the underbrush. Even the wind seemed to have stilled, leaving the air heavy with an oppressive, suffocating weight.

  The explosion hadn’t just torn through the physical world—it had left a scar on the very essence of the forest. The aether here was different, thick and sluggish, like it was reluctant to flow. Thorne could feel it, pulsing faintly beneath the surface of reality, as though the forest itself was trying to recover from a wound it didn’t fully understand.

  His Veil Sense pulsed faintly, alerting him to the presence of aetheric disruptions all around. Whatever had happened, it had changed everything around him. The magic here felt raw, unbalanced, as if the natural order had been shattered. He could sense other things in the distance, faint flickers of life, but none of it felt familiar. They weren’t just animals anymore. Something had shifted, reshaping the creatures that had survived the blast into something… more.

  Thorne’s heart pounded as he took a step forward, scanning the eerie landscape. The world felt wrong, like it was on the verge of unraveling. He had unleashed something ancient, something forgotten, and the forest—no, the very air—had absorbed it.

  And then his new trait alerted him to something, a tug in his consciousness that told him there was a significant aetheric presence near. It was a sensation he was still getting used to, but now it flared stronger than before, surging within him.

  The stag.

  Thorne froze, his breath catching in his throat as he stared at the creature. It stood not far from where he had been thrown by the explosion, its body still but somehow… different.

  It was the same stag that had fled the cataclysm with him, the one that had shared that desperate glance as they ran for their lives. But now, it was no longer an ordinary animal.

  Thorne’s eyes widened as he stared at the stag. The creature stood still, its large eyes gleaming with an almost serene intelligence, but its body had transformed into something both beautiful and alien. Vines coiled around its legs and torso, snaking upward in delicate, graceful patterns, their leaves dark green and vibrant. Among the twisted vines, small, iridescent flowers bloomed, their petals glowing faintly in the dim light.

  The stag’s antlers, once ordinary, now resembled the boughs of an ancient tree, sprouting blossoms that shimmered with soft, magical light. It was as though the forest itself had wrapped around the creature, claiming it, infusing it with the wild magic that had been unleashed.

  Thorne’s breath caught in his throat. He could feel it—the stag wasn’t just a creature anymore.

  An aether beast.

  It had become something other, infused with magic far older than the world they knew. The air around it buzzed with power, faint and primal, and Thorne could sense the delicate balance of life and magic that now coursed through the creature’s veins.

  His Veil Sense pulsed again, and for the first time, he truly felt it—the deep connection between the stag and the aetheric forces that had altered it. The flowers on its antlers gave off a faint magical pulse, like a heartbeat, resonating with the aether that had transformed the forest. The magic wasn’t just in the stag—it was part of the very air, the ground, the trees. This place had changed, and so had everything within it.

  Thorne shivered. The stag wasn’t hostile, but it wasn’t the same creature that had run beside him in the chaos. The forest had claimed it, just as it had claimed him.

  Thorne’s heart skipped a beat, his senses flaring as something unexpected happened. His Veil Sense, the trait that had only just awakened, pulsed within him, responding to the presence of the creature. A rush of understanding flooded his mind, and to his surprise, he instinctively knew the stag’s level.

  Level 16.

  His breath caught in his throat. His Veil Sense had shown him more than just the presence of aether—it had revealed the creature’s strength, its level. He hadn’t expected that. The trait was more powerful than he realized, capable of giving him insight into magical entities in ways he had never imagined.

  Thorne stared at the stag, a mixture of awe and confusion washing over him. The world had changed, and so had he.

  The stag’s gaze met his, and for a moment, they stood in silence. There was no fear in the animal’s eyes now, only calm. It tilted its head slightly, as if acknowledging him, its antlers shimmering with life and magic.

  Thorne felt a shiver run down his spine.

  The forest had been forever altered by the events of that night. He wasn’t the only one who had changed.

  With a final glance at the transformed creature, Thorne turned and began his long walk back to Alvar. The air was still, the moonlight faint but steady, and the weight of the new power within him pressed down on his thoughts.

  He was no longer just Thorne, the assassin. He was a Veilbreaker, a Lunar Champion, and now, he was someone who had to reckon with the dark truths about power and survival.

  Whatever came next, he would face it.

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