CHAPTER 20
"THE HUNTERS OF THE DOMINION"**
The bullets disintegrated in Kael's fist like grains of sand hitting a furnace.
Heat shimmered around him, bending the air, turning the night into a wavering mirage of scarlet flames and black shadows.
The Dominion Hunters froze for a brief second—long enough for fear to enter their eyes.
Then Kael moved.
His wings swept outward in a wide arc, sending out a shockwave of fire that carved trenches into the cracked asphalt. Several Hunters staggered back, their armor glowing orange from the heat.
Lyra screamed from behind a toppled car.
"Kael—STOP!"
He heard her voice.
He even wanted to listen.
But the Mark had already chosen blood.
A Hunter raised his rifle, trying to steady his shaking hands.
"C-Class exorcist rounds—fire at will!"
Blue blasts shot through the smoke.
Kael disappeared.
No footsteps.
No sound.
Just a single flicker—like a candle flame sliding through the air.
He reappeared behind the first Hunter, gripping the man's helmet.
A faint hum filled the night as the helmet melted under Kael's burning hand.
The soldier didn't even have time to scream.
A burst of flame spiraled upward, and he collapsed.
The other Hunters backpedaled violently.
"HOLY— he's not supposed to be this fast—!"
Kael turned toward them slowly, expression blank, eyes glowing with cold fire.
The Punisher's voice echoed in his head:
"Consume the wicked."
He stepped forward.
A barrage of energy shots lit the street blue.
Kael deflected them with a single sweep of his wing, sending sparks flying through the air.
"Fall back! FALL BACK!" the squad leader shouted.
Too late.
Kael slammed his foot into the ground.
A wave of hellfire erupted outward like a rising tsunami, engulfing the remaining Hunters in a storm of red flames. Their armor screamed with heat, glowing red-hot.
One soldier tried to crawl away, dragging his half-melted rifle.
Kael grabbed him by the collar and lifted him up effortlessly.
The man's voice shook.
"P-Please… I was just following orders…"
Kael's face twitched.
Something human flickered in his expression.
"Orders?" his voice echoed, layered with flame.
"Is that what you tell yourself to ignore the screams you cause?"
The man cried out, "I-I have a family—"
Kael hesitated.
The Punisher inside him did not.
"LIES."
Kael saw it above the man's head:
A dirty, burning orange cross.
Corrupted. Guilty.
A killer who hid behind a badge.
Kael crushed the man's weapon under his foot and dropped him.
"You had choices," Kael growled.
"And this is your judgment."
He ignited his palm.
Fire spiraled around his fingers like a hungry serpent.
He swung—
A lance of flame shot forward, swallowing the soldier.
Silence followed.
Only the crackling of dying flames filled the street.
Lyra stepped out from her hiding place, trembling violently.
Her eyes traveled across the charred ground.
Across the melted armor.
Across the smoke curling upward like crimson ghosts.
"Kael…" she whispered.
"This isn't justice. This is—this is slaughter."
Kael didn't turn to her.
He couldn't.
If he saw her face—
if he saw the fear—
the fragile part of him might break again.
"The wicked must burn," he said quietly, voice low and distant. "This city is overrun with corruption. I see what others can't. I see their souls."
He finally looked at her.
"And I know who deserves to die."
Lyra shook her head.
"That's not power, Kael… that's addiction."
Kael froze.
She had hit the truth—the one thing he didn't want to face.
Lyra took a step forward.
"You're losing yourself. Bit by bit. I can feel it. You're slipping deeper into whatever the Mark wants you to become."
Kael looked at the glowing symbol on his chest.
It pulsed like a heartbeat—his new heartbeat.
The Punisher whispered:
"She weakens you."
"Humans anchor you to pain."
"Cut her loose before she becomes a liability."
Kael shook his head violently, trying to drown out the burning voice.
"No. Lyra is not your decision."
The voice chuckled in his mind, deep and ancient.
"Everything about you is my decision."
Kael stumbled, gripping his chest as the Mark flared with heat.
Lyra rushed toward him but stopped when he raised his hand.
"D-Don't touch me," he said through clenched teeth. "The Mark reacts to emotion. If I lose control—"
"What?" she whispered.
"You'll burn me too?"
Kael didn't respond.
She stepped closer anyway.
"You won't," she whispered. "Because the real Kael is still in there."
Kael's breath hitched.
A faint white glow shimmered above Lyra's head.
A pure soul.
Untouched.
Uncorrupted.
It calmed him for a moment.
But only a moment.
The air shifted.
The Mark burned hotter.
Kael instantly pushed her aside.
"DOWN!"
A spear made of black fire shot through the air, stabbing into the pavement where Lyra had stood. The ground exploded in a circle of shadows.
Lyra screamed.
Kael spun around—
—and froze.
Standing in the smoke was a figure wrapped in tattered priest robes, hood low over his face.
Chains hung from his sleeves.
His feet didn't touch the ground.
A black cross glowed above his head.
A corrupted exorcist.
No—something worse.
The figure raised his hand, and the shadows curled like living snakes.
His voice was a whisper layered with thousands of others.
"Kael Riven.
The Punisher.
The Devil's Heir."
Lyra backed away.
"W-Who is that?"
The hooded figure tilted his head toward her as if sensing her purity.
"Ah… a white soul.
Rare.
Fragile."
His hand stretched slowly.
"Breakable."
Kael's wings flared.
"Touch her," he growled, "and I will turn you into ashes."
The figure chuckled.
The shadows writhed.
He raised both arms and the ground behind him split open.
From the darkness, creatures crawled out—distorted shapes with skeletal wings and hollow eyes.
Shadowbound.
Kael's flames roared in response.
Lyra's breath hitched.
"Kael… what do we do?"
Kael stepped forward, eyes blazing.
"We fight."
The Punisher whispered:
"Let the fire feed."
Kael didn't resist this time.
He welcomed it.
His wings erupted into full inferno, stretching wide enough to light the entire block.
The shadow creatures screeched.
Lyra covered her ears from the shockwave.
Kael lifted his arm—
And his fire shot upward like a rising sun, splitting the night.