Chapter 42: Alter Ego
"Infinity Barrier? What is that?"
Vael reached the front of the hut and stopped too. Only then did she turn toward him.
"Well, it’s like — hmm." She paused, searching for the clearest way to explain it. "It’s like crossing a distance, but you can only ever close half of it each time, which creates an infinite gap between you and the target. In essence, nothing ever reaches me."
Vael sat with the thought for a moment. Not quite a barrier — more like space itself bent so the distance between her and anything incoming stretched toward infinity. An impenetrable defense, plain and simple.
That would’ve made a hell of an asset. I wonder what else she’s carrying.
Vael thought, letting a small smile surface. For now, he’d head back to Warstone and hope their paths crossed again. Maybe once his abilities had evolved further, he’d come looking for her.
The thought dissolved as quickly as it formed. That was old thinking — the version of himself he was trying to leave behind. If he wanted to reach his goal, he needed people he could depend on — not trust, depend on.
He looked up at her. "If I may ask — are you an adventurer, by chance?"
She crossed to the wild boar she’d dropped near the hut’s entrance and scoffed. "I’m a survivor. People who’ve crossed paths with me gave me a name I don’t care for, so I won’t use it — saying it out loud is as good as claiming it." She crouched beside the boar and drew her blade from its sheath. "I don’t believe in righteous or evil. I believe in freedom. The ability to do exactly what I want, whenever I want, without anyone holding me back."
"And does morality factor into that at all?" Vael asked. If survival alone drove her, without any moral compass attached, he’d need to rethink his approach — manipulation might not get far with someone like her.
She began cutting into the boar as she answered. "Morality’s an illusion. Right and wrong get written by whoever holds the most power. Humans call their cause just and still slaughter demons without a second thought for their families, their futures. They paint every demon as evil and cast themselves as the light."
She paused, setting a cut piece aside. "That’s cruelty wearing righteousness like a mask. Demons, on the other hand, live by one rule — survival of the fittest. And yet even they punish betrayal. Funny, isn’t it? If strength alone decides who’s right, then the strongest demon who betrays his own kind should be right too, by their own logic."
Vael studied her, unable to fully place where she stood. Was she claiming neutrality, or did she simply despise both ideologies equally?
She glanced up and added, "I don’t care about any of it. Humans, demons — doesn’t matter. As long as I survive, even if the world burns, even if I have to be the one to light the match, I’ll do it. As long as I keep living."
Vael scoffed. She’d have made a fine ally, if he still had it in him to trust anyone that way. He couldn’t offer trust anymore — not real trust — but a mutual arrangement was still on the table. He looked at her and said, "Tell me — if someone wanted to burn both worlds down instead, leaving only a handful of people standing, would you join them, if it meant you’d survive?"
A faint smile touched her lips. "I’d join the demons if I was certain they’d win. I’d join the humans if I sensed victory leaning their way. Doesn’t matter who, doesn’t matter what — survival is the only thing that matters to me."
"And would you trust them?" Vael asked before he could stop himself.
"No. I trust no one, nothing. And if I ever did extend something close to trust, it would only ever be based on capability and action — never character. I’ve had my fill of both humans and demons, and all I can say is — let them all burn."
That was exactly what he needed. Someone with a mind already made up like that. A useful tool, if nothing else.
Vael stepped toward her and extended a hand for a shake, a casual smile settling over his face. "I do hope we stay on good terms from here — and whatever comes, I hope we can call on each other when it counts."
"Don’t count on it. I’m not playing hero for anyone," she replied, rising to her feet.
"Neither am I. So until we cross paths again, I’ll take my leave." Vael said. She studied him a long moment, silence stretching between them, before finally muttering, "Very well then. Good luck."
She crouched back down over the boar as though nothing worth remembering had passed between them. Vael lowered his hand, still smiling, and turned to go.
---
They — he — stopped at a cliff overlooking Warstone in the distance. He walked to the edge and sat.
He let his mind drift back over the last two weeks. So much had happened, and though his path was supposed to be one of calculated ascension toward becoming the world’s greatest calamity, his emotions had never fully stepped aside. They’d been shaping his choices all along, quietly, and now it was time to actually sit with that.
What does it mean to be a villain? What does vengeance actually cost? Was there even a difference between the two, and what should change from here? Something had to.
He looked down over the cliff’s edge and murmured, "Claire, can I see my stats?"
Claire: Certainly.
A translucent screen unfolded before him.
Authority of Theft (Base Authority)
Authority of Deception — Lie Discernment (3)
Authority of Space-Time — Spatial Compaction (2)
Shapeshifting (Active Disguise)
Poison
Teleportation [once a day]
Heightened Senses
Heightened Physiology
Unique Skill: Solar Flare (2)
Unique Skill: Split (1)
Unique Skill: Divine Healing (3)
Fire (3)
It looked like a lot, laid out like that — and yet he’d nearly died carrying all of it. All he could do was laugh, not from triumph but something closer to relief, something settling deep beneath it. He felt different in that moment. Clearer. More whole.
Something in him had cracked, or maybe finally clicked into place. Then a thought surfaced.
"Claire," he said, his voice steadier than he expected, calm enough to catch himself off guard.
Claire: Yes, Lord Vael? Do you need something?
No — just curious. Why do you go silent whenever I’m at my weakest?
Claire: I can’t function once your mana drops below ten percent. The system stays inactive during that window.
Ah. I see.
Vael smiled, watching the sun sink toward the horizon. He wasn’t scheming anything, wasn’t turning over some new plan. He just felt, for once, okay.
My apologies, Claire. I should treat you like a partner, not just a voice in my head. From here on, let’s actually work together. No more revenge dressed up as strategy, no more old grudges steering the wheel, no more careless pretending. Just partners.
Claire: I accept the proposal, Lord Vael. I’ll do everything I can to meet your expectations.
Good. And drop the title too — just call me... partner.
Claire: Understood, partner. Noted. So, if I may ask, partner — where do we go from here? What plan actually deserves a real path, rather than the revenge route we’ve been following?
"Dread." Vael’s lips curved faintly. He rose slowly, spreading his arms wide, letting the evening wind wash over him.
"We build an alter ego. A name they’ll all come to fear — Faceless. The darker half. The hand working from the shadows, twisting things toward something greater." He let the thought settle. "I’m going to break the heroes, the demons, and the White Order — all of them."
Claire: That’s an ambitious scale, don’t you think? You’ll need a starting point.
"Certainly." Vael turned, walking away from the cliff’s edge, hands sliding into his pockets. "I already have one in mind."
Claire: And what’s that, partner?
Vael smiled, descending the hill, his gaze catching the sun one last time as he murmured, "An organization. We’re going to build one."