Path of the Unmentioned: The Missing Piece-Chapter 61: Endless Void [1]

Kyle stared at the image Gray Owls had provided, a curved, ornamental sword with intricate carvings along its blade.

It looked like something a noble would hang on their wall, not wield in battle.

But he knew better.

’This is it.’

He needed a replica.

***

The next day, evening after class.

Kyle slipped out of the academy and went to the best blacksmith in Valtheras City.

The forge glowed orange in the dimming light as Kyle pushed open the heavy wooden door.

The scent of burning coal and hot metal filled his nose.

A burly man with arms like tree trunks looked up from hammering a red-hot blade, his bushy eyebrows furrowing.

"We are closin soon" the blacksmith grunted, wiping sweat from his brow.

Kyle pulled out the image and slid it across the counter. "I need this made. Exact replica."

The blacksmith barely glanced at it before scoffing.

"Decorative crap? I don’t waste my time on wall ornaments." He turned back to his work.

Kyle sighed.

He pulled out his academy ID and placed it next to the image.

"I’m Kyle Valemont. Aurelia Valemont’s little brother."

The blacksmith froze. Slowly, he turned back eyes flicking between Kyle and the ID.

"The... Gale Witch’s brother?"

Kyle nodded.

"And she would be real disappointed if her favorite blacksmith refused a simple request."

The man’s scowl wavered.

Then, to Kyle’s surprise, his expression shifted not to fear, but to excitement.

"Wait... you are her brother?" The blacksmith suddenly leaned forward, his voice dropping to a whisper.

"I saw her fight in the news last year. That wind blade technique gods, the way she—"

He caught himself, clearing his throat. "Ahem. I mean... I will make your damn sword."

Kyle blinked. ’...Fanboy?’

The blacksmith snatched up the image, studying it with sudden enthusiasm.

"Blade length, width... aye, easy enough. Won’t hold an edge, though. Pure decoration."

"That’s fine" Kyle said.

The blacksmith hesitated, then rubbed the back of his neck. "Payment... uh..."

Kyle reached for his storage ring, but the man waved him off.

"Nah. Just..." He pulled out a piece of parchment and a quill, shoving them at Kyle.

"Get me her autograph. With a...h-heart."

Kyle stared. "A... heart?"

"A big one" the blacksmith insisted, face reddening.

Kyle sighed.

’Aurelia would murder me.’

"Deal."

The blacksmith grinned. "Come back tomorrow. Won’t take long to make a fake."

***

Before stealing the sword

Kyle placed the black pill between his back teeth, bitter against his tongue.

He hadn’t swallowed it yet.

He wouldn’t, unless things went so catastrophically wrong.

’But if they do...’

He had seen the way Grimmord hesitated.

The dwarf hadn’t been lying, this thing was dangerous.

A last resort.

Hope he didn’t get the chance to use this.

’Why am I even taking this risk?’

He already knew the answer.

***

After the fight with Risha and the others.

Kyle’s fingers tightened around the hilt of the curved sword he took from the wall.

The moment his skin met hilt, his vision flickered.

The warehouse splintering into streaks of light and shadow.

’What the—!’

He blinked. A disorienting lurch.

Before his mind could process what was happening.

The world snapped into focus again.

He was no longer in the warehouse.

***

Kyle opened his eyes and found himself in...

Pure, unbroken darkness that stretched in every direction.

No walls.

No floor.

No sky.

Just an endless void that swallowed all light, all sound, all sense of space.

His breath came too loud in the silence. His heartbeat pounded in his ears like a drum.

’Where the hell am I?’

One second, he had been in the Viper hideout, gripping the divine sword’s hilt.

The next—

’This.’

His fingers flexed, but he felt nothing beneath them.

No ground.

No air.

Just... nothing.

"Is this the sword trial?" he muttered, his voice vanishing into the void.

But that didn’t make sense.

He hadn’t even done anything. No incantation. No blood ritual. Nothing.

He had just touched that damn sword.

Had everyone who held this sword been dragged into this place?

No.

If that were true, the sword would have been legendary, known for killing anyone who touched it.

But it had been sold as a mere decoration.

So why only him?

’Fuck..’

He cursed his [Unpredictable] luck in his status screen for this.

Then, a chilling thought crossed his mind.

Is my body still back there?

If only his consciousness was here then does that mean his physical form was defenseless in the Viper’s hideout.

The Vipers could find him lying motionless on the ground and put a blade through his heart for killing their boss Risha, and the others.

’Shit.’

He had to get out. And to do that, he had to complete this trial.

But how?

’There has to be exit somewhere.’

Kyle forced himself to move.

There was no ground, but somehow, his legs obeyed.

He didn’t understand how it worked but he ran, sprinting blindly through the dark arms outstretched like he might hit an invisible wall.

Nothing.

Just endless black.

His instincts no, his blessing screamed at him. This place is wrong. Get out here.

So he kept running.

His breath came in sharp gasps. His muscles burned, but he didn’t stop.

No wind rushed past his face. He might as well have been running in the same place.

Still, he ran.

The darkness didn’t change.

No landmarks.

No end in sight.

Just an infinite void stretching in every direction.

His lungs ached though he couldn’t tell if it was from exertion or panic.

’There has to be an exit.’

’A way out.’

’To pass this test.’

Minutes passed. Or maybe hours. Or days.

He couldn’t tell.

His legs screamed in protest. His breath came in ragged gasps.

Still, he ran.

Faster.

More time passed..

How long had it been? A day? A month? A year?

Or several years?

Or had it only been a single moment?

He couldn’t remember.

He couldn’t even feel his legs anymore.

A strange numbness crept in, as if his limbs were slowly dissolving into the void below him.

His thoughts grew hazy.

Why am I running?

The question slipped in, soft and insidious.

He shook his head, forcing himself to focus.

’Yes, the sword trial.’

He had to escape.

But his pace slowed.

Running became jogging.

Jogging became walking.

His mind fogged over, thoughts slipping like sand through his fingers.

Then, a sudden, terrifying doubt surfaced.

’Who... am I?’

Panic flared it was brief, sharp. Before fading into nothing.

’Kyle.’

’Yes, his name was Kyle.’

’Wasn’t it?’

He just had to remember that he needed to escape.

Escape?

But...

Why?

Why did he need to escape?

Couldn’t he just... stay here?

This void feels... peaceful.

Quiet.

No pain.

No fear.

No Guilt.

No Responsibility.

Just... nothing.

’It’s peaceful here’.

***

Author’s Note:

Hey, my lovely readers!

Sooo... how are you finding the sword arc so far? Loving the chaos? Hating it? Please tell me.

How did the pacing feel? Should I have wrote the Vipers in more detail, or was keeping it brief the right call?

Don’t hold back—your critiques help me improve (and feed my ever-hungry writer’s soul... along with my existential crisis, of course 😅)

***