Alistair didn’t rush.
He stood by the corpse of the cyclops, one hand casually resting on the hilt of his sword, the other dangling like he had all the time in the world.
He didn’t.
[Ethereal Phase – Cooldown: 15 seconds]
He wasn’t dumb enough to make a move without an escape plan, and the guy in the trees clearly wasn’t dumb enough to give him one.
“You know,” Alistair called, scanning the treeline without turning his head, “if you wanted to share loot, we could’ve had an actual conversation. Instead of, you know, arrow-to-the-eye as your opening move.”
A pause.
Then the same dry, amused voice from before, this time slightly more directional.
“You were mid-dramatic monologue. I didn’t want to interrupt.”
Alistair smirked.
“Rude. I had at least three more lines ready.”
[Ethereal Phase – Cooldown: 12s]
He turned his body slightly, just enough to keep his peripheral wide. Nothing moved in the trees. Whoever this guy was, he knew his cover.
“So what’s the play?” Alistair called. “You going to shoot another one or just roast me from the shadows?”
“Tempting,” came the reply, “but I’m low on arrows and you look like you’d whine.”
Alistair snorted. “Only when I’m nearly killed. Or ignored. Or hungry.”
[Cooldown: 9s]
He started to move. Slowly. A single step to the left, toward higher ground.
Still nothing. No rustling. No glint of metal.
“So,” Alistair said, “you’re an archer. Judging by your aim, a good one. But if you were here to kill me, you would’ve taken the second shot already. Which means...”
Silence.
[Cooldown: 6s]
Alistair narrowed his eyes.
“...you’re stalling.”
That hung in the air longer than he liked.
Then came the answer, crisp and disinterested:
“So are you.”
Alistair’s smile widened. “Touché.”
Alistair’s fingers flexed near his blade, his eyes scanning the tree line.
The guy was good. No movement. No light glint. Not even the sound of breath. He could’ve been anywhere or everywhere.
Alistair didn’t like that.
[Ethereal Phase – Cooldown: 2s]
He was counting heartbeats. Watching shadows. Running scenarios in his head. There were at least four ways he could close the distance and two ways to fake an opening.
The problem was, he didn’t know why the mystery man was stalling.
And it was starting to piss him off.
“You planning your next shot, or do you just like watching me breathe dramatically?” Alistair called.
Silence.
Then a reply, still from somewhere in the trees:
“Bit of both. You pant with real intensity.”
Alistair rolled his eyes.
“You know what’s intense? Two arrows to the face in thirty seconds.”
“Then stop putting your face where arrows want to be.”
[Cooldown: 0s – Ethereal Phase Ready]
Alistair was about to make a move when something changed.
Light broke through the canopy, soft and sudden. A warm blade of gold that cut through the shadows and spilled across the forest floor.
He tensed. Instinct flared.
He braced for it, for the ache in his bones, the skin-tight burn, the crackling hiss of [Sun’s Drain].
But nothing happened.
No pain.
No penalty.
Just... warmth.
He blinked.
No system alert.
Just the sun. Warm. Gentle.
Harmless.
“Right,” he muttered. “Sunlight. Still ugly. But not deadly.”
From the treeline: a sharp, confused curse.
“What the hell, why aren’t you on fire?”
Alistair turned toward the sound, smirking.
“Yeah. Welcome to the daywalker era.”
Silence.
Then the voice, flat:
“That’s disgusting.”
“Says the guy hiding in the trees like a woodpecker with commitment issues.”
“Says the vampire who burps light.”
“Fair point.”
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Alistair stepped slightly to the left, letting the shaft of sunlight dance across his shoulders. It felt strange. Soft. Like a lie he was starting to believe.
Then it happened.
The slip.
A faint snap of a branch. Soft cursing. Up high.
His eyes narrowed.
“You’re in the trees,” he said flatly. “And here I was thinking you had the decency to fight on the ground like a normal coward.”
“Sorry. I’m allergic to dying.”
Alistair’s hands came up without hesitation, fingers already weaving through a spell he knew by muscle memory.
[Darken Sight – Cast]
Tendrils of black magic burst from his hands, thicker, darker, heavier than usual. They slithered across the air like living shadows, reaching out with eager hunger.
And best of all?
[Shadow Surge – Buff Active]
Mana Cost: 0
“Free magic,” he muttered. “My favorite kind.”
The shadows reached for the branches above.
He didn’t need to see the guy yet.
Because now?
Now he knew exactly where to aim.
Something crashed through the branches.
Leaves scattered. A muttered curse turned into a surprised yelp. Then a thud.
Alistair’s ears perked up. He didn’t hesitate.
He darted forward, following the sound.
He sprinted, weaving through trees, vaulting over roots, boots kicking up dirt. Every instinct screamed that this was it. The hunter. The archer. The smartass who stole his kill and hid in the trees.
“Please let it be your spine that snapped.”
He rounded a moss-covered boulder and came to a sudden halt.
There, sprawled out at the base of a massive oak, was an elf.
Braided hair tangled in leaves. Bow missing. One boot half-off. His lean frame was crumpled awkwardly, but still breathing. His eyes were open, slightly glazed.
He looked dazed. Not wounded.
Like he'd dropped out of a tree and into a very bad moment.
Alistair smirked.
“Well, that’s one way to dismount.”
He stepped closer.
The elf didn’t move. Just blinked up at him like a man who was only just remembering what pain felt like.
Alistair raised his sword.
A slow, measured motion. Not rushed. Not panicked.
He stepped into position. Blade ready. Victory humming through his veins.
Then the elf’s eyes locked onto his.
And everything changed.
The world seemed to hold its breath.
A rush of warmth flooded Alistair’s chest, spreading through his limbs like blood turned to light. His vision shimmered. Time slowed. It wasn’t fear. It wasn’t power.
It was something else.
Something bigger.
His skin prickled. Not from the cold but from something inside shifting. Something ancient, buried deep, that now stirred like it had been waiting.
Waiting for this.
The bond wasn’t physical. It didn’t come from his magic or his class or his blade. It came from something older than any of that.
It came from fate.
He couldn’t look away.
Neither could the elf.
“What the hell is this…” Alistair whispered.
Then the system hit.
[Soulbinder Trait – Activation Triggered]
A soul of rare resonance has entered your sphere. This essence is linked by fate, not proximity.
Traits Compatible: Yes
Role Potential: Unknown
Warning: Souls connected in this way often share intertwined destinies. Once formed, this link cannot be easily broken.
[Ability: Soul Insight – Passive Activated]
You sense that this soul will play a pivotal role in your future.
Current Target: Significance – High
Alignment – Unknown
Effect – Undetermined
[Ability: Soul Bond]
You may now initiate a bond between your soul and another.
Bond effects at current level:
? Passive awareness of partner’s general location
? Limited sharing of attributes, skills, and resistances
? Permanent, unbreakable tether
Note: Soulbonds are rare. They often emerge not by choice, but by alignment of purpose.
The messages faded just long enough for one more to appear:
[Do you wish to initiate a Soulbond with this individual?]
[Yes] / [No]
Alistair didn’t move.
Didn’t breathe.
He looked down at the elf again. The one who just tried to kill him. Or tease him. Or something.
And felt it in his chest, not pain. Not power.
Just certainty.
This wasn’t chance.
This was the system showing its hand.
The system prompt hovered before him, still glowing.
[Do you wish to initiate a Soulbond with this individual?]
[Yes] / [No]
Alistair stared at it.
Then at the elf, still groaning, still half-conscious, dirt in his hair, leaves stuck to his face. The guy looked like a druid’s bad haircut. Like he’d rolled downhill through a sacred grove and hadn’t apologized.
And yet…
Something stirred in Alistair’s chest.
Something raw.
The trait had finally triggered.
After years.
Years of silence. Of watching others, his father, his brother, form bonds with ease. Gather warriors, mages, loyalists. Allies.
He’d tried.
He’d hoped.
He’d waited.
And nothing had ever come.
No bonds. No connections. Just questions.
Was I broken?
He’d asked himself that more times than he could count. Maybe he was too different. Maybe his bloodline had flaws. Maybe the trait had skipped him entirely.
And now this.
This ridiculous elf. Wild hair. Smelled like moss and sarcasm. Looked like he’d been raised by squirrels and passive aggression.
But he was the one.
The soul that woke something real.
And for the first time in Alistair’s life, the system didn’t treat him like a mistake. It saw him. It saw his bond.
His fingers hovered over the prompt.
His jaw clenched.
“You better be worth this,” he muttered.
And he reached for [Yes].
Alistair’s finger tapped the glowing prompt.
[Soulbond Initiated]
[Soul tether engaged. Essence synchronization in progress…]
The air around him pulsed once.
Then again.
The world didn’t shift. It unraveled.
Light bled from the trees, not golden but silver-blue, curling in on itself like mist caught in slow motion. Every breath Alistair took felt denser, fuller. As if the forest had stopped to listen.
His chest buzzed with a warmth that wasn’t heat. It wasn’t pain either. It was weight. The weight of connection. Like a door had opened inside him, quiet, ancient, final and something had stepped through.
He felt seen.
Not by eyes, but by the thread pulling tight inside him.
A bond older than language.
A truth that didn’t care about permission.
And it knew his name.
You are now bound to: [Kaelren – Level 16 – Hunter of the Warden’s Hollow]
Effects Active:
– Vague sense of partner’s direction and condition
– Partial skill resonance enabled
– Attribute resonance (low level) established
Warning: This bond is unbreakable.
Synchronization Level: Dormant (Potential: Moderate)
The system faded, and the world returned, just trees, sun, and the elf still flat on his back at the base of the oak.
Alistair exhaled slowly.
That was it. After all this time, after all the waiting, it was done.
And somehow, it didn’t feel dramatic.
It felt… right.
Not perfect.
Just right.
Just exactly what it needed to be.
He sheathed his sword and stepped forward, crouching next to the elf.
Kaelren blinked hard. Then winced. Then looked directly at Alistair.
“Ugh. I think I hit my head.”
“You hit everything,” Alistair said. “Especially the ground.”
Kaelren groaned. “Is this what dying feels like?”
“No. Dying is quieter. This is something worse.”
The elf narrowed his eyes.
“Why do I feel like I swallowed someone else’s hangover?”
Alistair smiled.
“Because we’re bonded now.”
Kaelren blinked. “We’re what?”
“Soulbound. You fell on your face and woke up married.”
A pause.
“...You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“I never joke about involuntary magical contracts.”
Kaelren sat upright so fast he nearly headbutted Alistair.
“Wait...You did what?!”
Alistair raised both hands. “Hey, calm down. It was a system thing. Auto-bond. Happens more often than you’d think.”
“That’s assault with metaphysical intent!”
“Technically, you triggered it.”
“Technically, I’m going to strangle you with my quiver strap!”
Alistair leaned back. “Look, you’re mad. I get it. But hear me out.”
Kaelren didn’t say anything. His glare did.
Alistair kept going.
“The Arena’s changing. Factions are forming. People are already grouping up and wiping out solo players. You think you’re gonna survive this place playing tree-tag by yourself?”
Kaelren hesitated.
“We share some stats now. Minor boosts. I get a vague sense of where you are. You get to be connected to someone who doesn’t die easily.”
“You soul-tethered me without asking!”
“I didn’t plan it! The system gave me a pop-up. What was I gonna do, click no?”
Kaelren gritted his teeth. Then sighed. “Gods. My goddess is going to mock me for this.”
Alistair smirked. “Mine probably just took bets.”
Kaelren sat up slowly, rubbing the back of his neck. “That explains the weird tugging in my ribs. I thought it was a pulled muscle. Or guilt.”
“I get that a lot,” Alistair said dryly. “It’s me. I’m the guilt.”
They sat in silence for a moment. Just long enough for Kaelren to process it.
Then:
“You couldn’t have bonded with someone cleaner?”
“I had standards,” Alistair said. “Then the cyclops showed up and I lowered them.”
Kaelren huffed. “Well, congrats. You picked a winner. I steal kills and sleep in trees.”
“You’re my type.”
Another pause.
Then Kaelren sighed.
“Fine. Whatever. We’re stuck. Let’s just agree not to make eye contact for a while.”
“No promises,” Alistair said. “Your eyes are kind of nice.”
Kaelren scowled. “This is going to suck, isn’t it?”
“Oh, absolutely.”
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