Plundering Worlds: I Have a Shotgun in a Fantasy World-Chapter 49: Summoned at Night

Heat. Immediate. Overwhelming.

It started in his chest, a point of searing warmth just below his sternum. Then it spread. Inward. The heat burrowed deep, threading through muscle and bone, wrapping around his spine, his ribs, his pelvis.

Kael gasped. His body arched in the chair—but the sensation was electric, overwhelming.

Like every cell in his body was waking up. Like he’d been half-asleep his entire life and only now opened his eyes.

But it was presence, It was presence—pure, overwhelming presence. Something vast settling into him, claiming space, rewriting pathways.

His breathing changed. Slower. Deeper. His diaphragm expanded, pulling air down into his lower abdomen. The heat followed, pooling in his core. He felt his Qi—his internal energy—begin to move. Smoothly. It rose along his spine, vertebra by vertebra, until it reached the base of his skull. Then it descended along his front, down his sternum, back to the core.

A circuit. Complete. Stable. Self-sustaining.

Kael’s vision blurred. His awareness turned inward. He saw it. A golden thread of energy, cycling through his body. Warm. Steady. Alive. The sensation lasted seconds—or minutes. He lost track. When it faded, Kael collapsed back into the chair, breathing hard. His chest rose and fell, but the rhythm was different now. Controlled. Measured.

He felt full. Like his body had been a half-empty vessel his whole life, and now—Now it brimmed.

Kael waited only long enough to catch his breath. He selected the second ability.

[Exchange: Reversal Sword (Grandmaster) | Cost: 4 Aether] [Confirm?] [Yes.]

His hands moved on their own. They lifted from the armrests, fingers curling as if around a hilt. His wrists turned. Elbows folded. Shoulders aligned.

Kael rose to his feet before he registered it. His body flowed through the sequence. First strike—an upward cut, measuring the angle. Second—lateral, guiding the line. Third—a diagonal descent. The killing stroke.

He executed the sequence five times. Ten. Twenty.

Each repetition carved itself deeper into his muscle memory. His tendons tightened, realigned. His joints smoothed. His bones settled into new positions, optimized for the angles and trajectories the sword demanded. By the thirtieth repetition, the movements felt natural. By the fiftieth, they felt inevitable.

Kael’s hands finally stilled. He stood in the middle of the room, breathing steadily, arms hanging at his sides. He flexed his fingers. They knew. The grip. The angle. The pressure. If he held a sword right now, it would feel like part of his arm.

Third ability.

[Exchange: Reversal Steps (Grandmaster) | Cost: 3 Aether] [Confirm?] [Yes.]

His legs shifted. Weight dropped low. Knees bent. Hips rotated.

Kael stepped forward. Then sideways. Then back. His center of gravity stayed constant. His balance never wavered. The floor beneath him might as well have been a tightrope, and he walked it with absolute certainty.

He felt the mechanics settle into his legs. The way his ankles flexed. The way his calves engaged. The way his thighs stabilized his core. He moved faster. Half-step. Quarter-turn. Full pivot. His body responded instantly, smoothly, precisely.

When he stopped, he stood exactly where he’d started. Perfect.

Final ability.

[Exchange: Tide-Subduing Palm (Mastery) | Cost: 7 Aether] [Confirm?] [Yes.]

His palms burned. With awareness.

Kael raised his hands and stared at them. He could feel it. The flow of energy beneath his skin. The pulse of his own Qi, circulating through his meridians. He pressed his palms together. The sensation sharpened. He could sense the points where his energy converged. The nodes where it gathered before dispersing.

He separated his palms and struck forward—slow, controlled. The motion carried weight. Energy. His Qi surged through his arms, coiling in his palms, ready to release.

He struck again. Probe. Then again. Suppress. And once more. Seal.

Each strike felt different. The first light, exploratory. The second heavier, pressing down. The third absolute, final.

Kael lowered his hands. His breathing had remained steady throughout. His Qi moved cleanly, flowing where he directed it, smooth and obedient, like blood through open veins.

Kael stood in the center of his quarters, arms at his sides. The interface flickered in his vision.

[Current Aether: 4.9]

He’d spent twenty-nine. Four point nine remained. Kael closed the interface.

He looked down at his hands. They were steady. Strong. He could feel the Qi circulating through his body, warm and constant. The sword forms etched into his muscles. The footwork rooted in his legs. The palm strikes encoded in his nerves. Decades of training. Compressed into minutes.

Kael exhaled slowly. He felt different. Complete. Like pieces of himself he’d been missing had finally slotted into place.

He walked to the window and looked out at the training yard. Men moved through drills. Swords flashed in the sunlight. Orders barked across the space.

Normal. Familiar. Safe.

Kael’s reflection appeared faintly in the glass. Same face. Different eyes. 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝕨𝕖𝗯𝚗𝚘𝕧𝕖𝗹.𝗰𝗼𝕞

He turned away from the window and picked up his sword from the desk. The weight settled into his hand perfectly. Like it had always belonged there.

Kael smiled faintly.

The edge of anxiety that had followed him for months had dulled.

---

[The Training Grounds - Sector 4]

The yard was quiet when Kael arrived.

Kogan was in the center of the yard, training alone. A sandbag rested across his shoulders as he moved through weighted squats—steady descent, controlled rise.

Bren sat on a low bench near the perimeter wall, a book open in his hands. He turned a page calmly. A whetstone and knife lay unused beside him.

At the sound of approaching footsteps, he lifted his head.

His eyes settled on Kael.

His face split into a grin.

"Captain!" Bren stood and clapped Kael on the shoulder. "Thought you’d sleep all day."

Kael raised an eyebrow. "Close enough."

Bren laughed. "Good timing. You missed the worst of the hangovers."

Kael glanced around the yard. "Where are the others?"

Bren jerked his thumb toward the barracks. "Griggs and Jarek are still dead to the world. Drank themselves stupid last night. I checked on them an hour ago—still breathing, barely moving."

Kael grunted. "And Silas?"

Bren’s grin widened. "In the infirmary. Captain, did you forget? He never had the wound treated yesterday and came drinking with us. Now the linen’s stuck fast. They’re probably cutting it out."

Kael winced slightly.

"He’ll have fun with that."

"His own fault." Bren shook his head. "Man’s got the discipline of a drunk goat."

Kogan walked over, the sandbag still across his shoulders. He lowered it to the ground and gave Kael a short nod.

"Captain."

Kael met his gaze. "What is it?"

Kogan gestured toward the center of the yard. "Strength drills. Join me."

Bren closed his book and stood. "Count me in."

Kael gave a short nod. "All right."

The three of them moved toward the training ring.

[One Week Later]

The week passed quickly.

Kael trained.

Every day, he pushed his body harder than before. The sword forms flowed through him like water. The footwork came as naturally as breathing. The palm strikes landed with precision he’d never had before.

And his body responded.

The Qi circulating through him amplified everything. His muscles grew denser. His reflexes sharpened. His endurance deepened.

He could feel the changes.

Every morning, he woke stronger than the day before.

Every night, he ate enough to feed five men.

Then six.

Then eight.

The cook had stopped commenting after the third day. He just ladled the food and watched Kael consume it with the same bemused expression.

Kogan noticed.

"You’re eating like a siege is coming," Kogan said one evening, watching Kael finish his fourth bowl of stew.

Kael wiped his mouth. "I’m hungry."

Kogan studied him for a moment. "Captain... are you about to reach the Transcendent?"

Kael did not answer immediately.

At the same table, Griggs and Jarek continued eating. They barely reacted. By now, Kael’s appetite no longer surprised them. One passed him the bread; the other nudged the stew pot closer.

Kael set the empty bowl down. "Soon."

Kogan stood and crossed to the serving table, and returned with another plate. He placed it in front of Kael.

Bren leaned back in his chair. "At this rate, we’ll need to requisition livestock in bulk."

A few of the men at nearby tables chuckled.

By the end of the week, his appetite had become legendary.

The men joked about it. The cook grumbled each time he saw Kael in line. Valen raised an eyebrow when word reached him, but said nothing of it.

Kael kept eating.

His body demanded it.

And he gave it what it needed.

[Evening - The Bathhouse]

Kael finished his training late.

The yard had emptied hours ago. The sun had set. The barracks were quiet.

He walked to the bathhouse, his muscles aching pleasantly from the day’s work.

The room was empty when he entered.

Steam rose from the large wooden tub in the center. Hot water, courtesy of the garrison’s heating system. A luxury Kael had learned to appreciate.

He stripped off his shirt and trousers, leaving only his undergarments, and stepped into the water.

The heat sank into his muscles immediately. He exhaled slowly and leaned back against the edge of the tub.

For a few minutes, he just sat there.

Eyes closed. Breathing steady.

The Qi in his body circulated smoothly, warm and constant. He could feel it moving through his meridians, reinforcing his flesh, deepening his strength.

After a while, he stood and stepped out of the tub.

He dried himself with a rough towel and pulled on his trousers. His shirt hung over his shoulder as he walked barefoot down the hallway toward his quarters.

The stone floor was cool beneath his feet. The corridor was dim, lit only by a few oil lamps mounted on the walls.

Kael reached his door and stopped.

Someone was standing there.

A girl.

Young. Maybe sixteen, seventeen at most.

She wore a winter mantle of deep blue wool, lined with pale fur at the collar and cuffs. The fabric was thick, finely woven, cut close to her frame, cleanly tailored.

Beneath it, a fitted dress of dark velvet showed at the sleeves, layered for warmth but tailored with restraint. Leather gloves, soft and well-kept, covered her hands.

Her hair was braided neatly and tucked close to keep the wind from tangling it. The cold had brushed a faint color into her cheeks.

*Cute.*

That was the word that came to mind.

She stared at him.

Her eyes flicked from his face to his bare chest, then back to his face.

Her cheeks flushed red.

Kael raised an eyebrow. "Can I help you?"

The girl’s mouth opened. Closed. Opened again.

"I—" She swallowed. "Captain Valen sent me."

Her voice was quiet. Nervous.

Kael waited.

"He wants to see you," she continued, her eyes darting to his chest again before snapping back up. "In his office. Tonight."

Kael nodded slowly. "Understood."

The girl nodded quickly, her face still red.

Then she turned and walked away.

Fast.

Almost running.

Kael watched her disappear around the corner.

He looked down at himself.

Bare chest. Wet hair. Trousers slung low on his hips.

He shook his head and pushed the door open.

Inside, he drew a slow breath and let the qi circulate through his meridians. Heat rose beneath his skin, subtle but controlled.

The moisture clinging to his body and hair thinned, then lifted as faint vapor. Within moments, his clothes and hair were completely dry.

Valen wanted to see him.

At night.

That usually meant one of two things.

A mission.

Or a problem.

Kael buckled his sword belt and walked toward the door.

Either way, he’d find out soon enough.