Chapter 35 — The Ninth Toll

The eighth toll shook the air like a beast’s roar.

Kael burst into the top chamber of the bell tower. Wind roared through shattered windows, tugging at his cloak. The bell itself loomed in the center, massive and ancient, its bronze surface covered in etched runes that glowed faintly with red-gold light.

But someone was already there.

A girl stood beside the bell’s rope, her hands gripping it tight. Her long white hair whipped around her face, her eyes glowing with an unnatural silver sheen. Kael knew her—not from the present, but from the fractured visions he’d seen when using Erosion magic.

“You—” Kael’s voice caught. “You’re supposed to be dead.”

She smiled faintly, but it wasn’t warm. “I was. Then the bell called me back.”

The ninth toll had not yet come, but Kael could feel the magic building, thick and suffocating. Every rune on the bell pulsed in time with the beat of his heart.

He stepped forward, blade ready. “Stop this, before you open something we can’t close.”

The girl tilted her head. “It’s already open. You just can’t see it yet.”

Before Kael could move, she yanked the rope—

The ninth toll thundered through the city.

For a moment, everything froze. The sound didn’t fade—it deepened, stretching into a vibration that passed through flesh and bone, through reality itself.

The walls of the bell tower peeled away like smoke. The sky above wasn’t blue anymore—it was black, stitched with cracks of blinding white light. And through those cracks… something was watching.

Kael dropped to one knee, his chest tight, as if a giant hand were pressing him into the earth.

The girl’s voice echoed unnaturally, as though she spoke from every shadow.
“The Forgotten Thread is not the only one to return, Kael. You were never meant to be the only hero… nor the only threat.”

From the rift above, something began to emerge. Claws. Chains. Eyes without number.

And Kael understood—this wasn’t a summoning.
It was a release.