ONLINE: Blades of Eternity-Chapter 337: THE PATH OF SOARING WIND

The embers still whispered in the wind as Kaelen, Kelvin, and Guinevere sat cross-legged, their bodies steaming from residual flame as they meditated beneath the jagged shadow of the Circle of Resonance.

Their skin pulsed faintly with glowing etchings—flame scars from the Amaterusu—but their souls were slowly stabilizing.

Just as the forest’s silence began to return, a sudden voice cut through the air:

"I’m next."

All eyes turned.

Standing at the edge of the circle was Lila, fists clenched tightly, eyes hard and gleaming beneath the sheen of mist tears not yet shed.

Kaelen stirred, but said nothing.

Kelvin raised an eyebrow. "You sure about this?"

Lila nodded, not looking at him. "I have to. I have to."

She closed her eyes and whispered as if to herself.

"They took everything from me... I need to be stronger. Strong enough to make every Dragonyx choke on their legacy."

Naena stood quietly for a moment. The air stilled around her as she stepped forward, scanning Lila’s soul not with her eyes—but with her ancient Qi sense.

"Soaring Wind..." she murmured. "A trial not of force... but of clarity. Of balance."

She hesitated—only for a second.

"Very well. But be warned, Lila. The winds... show no mercy. They don’t burn. They cut."

Lila stepped into the circle.

And the statue reserved for the path of Soaring Wind suddenly became active.

-----

As soon as she started her trail, she found herself suspended in a world of gray skies and screaming winds.

Storm clouds rolled endlessly above her. Below, there was no ground. No horizon. Only air—roaring, biting, tearing.

The wind carried no comfort. No warmth.

Only pain.

"Lila."

The voice was soft—fragile.

She turned.

In the distance stood a figure. A woman. Dressed in silken Elven robes. Hair like snow. Eyes full of silent sorrow.

Her mother.

"Mom?" she whispered, her voice nearly carried off by the wind.

Apparently, Lila was an elf who was abandoned by her race and was labeled as a traitor. Although she later came across Lila’s dad and had a few happy times with him and later her, it was unfortunately short lived.

She tried to run—but the air turned solid against her, holding her in place.

Before her mother could reach her—

A black blade sliced through her chest.

Blood sprayed into the wind.

Her mother fell—eyes still watching Lila. Her lips moved. No sound came.

And then—vanished.

"NO!"

The wind howled louder.

Another figure emerged. A tall man in black armor.

Her father. His back was to her.

"Dad... please, turn around—run!"

But he didn’t.

From the swirling storm, figures in Dragonyx armor emerged—silent, merciless.

She screamed until her throat tore—but they ran him through with crimson blades, three at once.

His body slumped. Fell.

The storm carried it away like leaves.

And again—

Her mother returned.

Then her father.

Then the deaths—again.

And again.

"This is what the wind is," a voice whispered in her ears. "It brings change. And takes everything. Are you up to this task?"

Her body trembled. Her limbs wouldn’t move. Her vision blurred from tears. Her mind cracked beneath the weight of helpless repetition.

Until she broke.

"I can’t... I can’t do this—STOP IT!"

She fell to her knees. Arms limp at her sides.

And the trial—collapsed.

---

The light which was shining on Lila suddenly ceased.

Unlike the other trails that has been done, this one was particularly ruthless as Lila’s body was flung out like a broken doll, skidding across the moss-carpeted earth until she lay still, curled inwards like a leaf in the rain.

Naena was already beside her, hand glowing with healing Qi, pressing two fingers to her temple.

"Breathe, child. It’s over. You’re safe."

Lila’s eyes flickered, full of horror. She coughed—then broke into sobs.

Kaelen reached out instinctively—but Naena stopped him with a glance.

"No. Not yet."

She turned to the others.

Her expression was grim.

"The Path of Soaring Wind is not meant for those still burdened by grief. Wind is a merciless element—it gives no time to mourn. It expects clarity... serenity... abandonment. Maybe that’s the reason it only chose the three of you."

Naena stood slowly, still cradling Lila’s body with her Qi.

"If you’re not ready, it will strip you bare—of strength, of purpose, of sanity."

The forest was still now.

Even the wind had ceased.

Kaelen stared at Lila, fists clenching at his side.

Kelvin looked away, his jaw locked.

Guinevere bit her lip and dropped her gaze.

"She will recover," Naena assured, "but she cannot try again. Not yet."

She carried Lila toward the nearby healing spring, her voice fading into the wind.

"Some paths are not walked. They are flown. And for that, one must first shed the weight of the past."

––––––

The moon hung heavy above the borderlands, casting a pale glow over the tangled edges where the towering silver-barked trees of the Elven territory gave way to the corrupted flora of the Deadroot Forest.

From behind a thick tree veiled in shadows, Eirana crouched low, her long silver blade strapped to her back and her body wrapped in travel-worn Elven cloaks she’d stolen from a drying line days earlier. Beside her stood the Voidcloak, a dark, formless being barely contained by its humanoid frame. Shadows clung to it like oil. It breathed silently, its eerie, slitted eyes watching everything with unnatural stillness.

They were almost home.

But fate had different plans.

"There!" shouted a voice from above.

Elven scouts—three of them—had spotted them from their treetop vantage points. The alarm cry was followed by the sharp blast of a horn—a border alert.

Within seconds, the area burst to life with Elven warriors, clad in thin silver and green armor, wielding bows charged with wind-imbued arrows and spears that danced like reeds in the storm. Their movements were fluid—elegant. Deadly.

"Damn it," Eirana muttered, unsheathing her long silver blade. "So much for subtlety."

The Voidcloak growled lowly, but made no move.

The guards encircled them.

"Drop your weapons!" one barked. "You are trespassing into Elven border lands. Identify yourself and the family you belong to, or be cut down where you stand!"

Eirana spat at the ground.

"Out of the way. I’m not in the mood for politics."

Then she moved.

In a blur of motion, her sword sang through the air, slicing through the first elf’s spear and grazing his collarbone. She pivoted, dancing into the fray, her Qi flaring violently through her meridians like a lightning storm.

With a roar, she unleashed one of the artificial Nullcarvers’ Qi techniques, sending a shockwave into a cluster of oncoming warriors and throwing them into the air like leaves in a cyclone.

"Intruder is using Qi—non-Elven! Engage with lethal force!" shouted a commander from the rear.

Arrows rained down. Eirana spun, her blade intercepting two, but a third grazed her thigh. She hissed in pain.

Another squad charged her from the left—six warriors at once.

She sidestepped the first, elbowed the second in the throat, and ran the third through—but the remaining three swarmed her. A blade nicked her shoulder. A spear bruised her ribs.

She stumbled, bleeding, breathing heavily. Dozens still surrounded her.

"There’s... too many," she muttered, swaying slightly.

And that’s when it happened.

The Voidcloak, who had been still all this while, suddenly twitched.

Its limbs cracked unnaturally. The air trembled.

Then it roared—a sound so unnatural and bone-chilling it warped the air around it. Not only that, but a dark, circular surge suddenly spread out from it to all over the area.

And then, in a single heartbeat, it moved.

Faster than any eye could follow.

The guards didn’t even have time to scream.

One by one, they fell.

Their bodies twisted—some turned to ash, others vaporized, as if consumed by a darkness too ancient to comprehend. Blades shattered. Qi barriers crumbled like paper. It was as if existence itself refused to resist the Voidcloak.

The forest went silent.

Eirana stood amidst the carnage, staring wide-eyed at the dozens of mutilated corpses and the pitch-black fissures torn into the earth, still writhing with shadows.

"What... the hell are you?" she whispered, stepping back slightly while she also thought.

’How can any creature move so fast?’

The Voidcloak turned its head toward her.

Its slitted eyes gleamed with something unreadable.

But it didn’t move.

It didn’t attack.

It simply... waited.

And despite her instincts screaming, Eirana turned away first.

"...Come on," she muttered. "We need to go. More are coming."

Far in the distance, more Elven horns began to wail, their notes high and urgent.

"I heard a roar over there!"

"That must be the Voidcloak!"

"That means the intruder must also be there!"

"All squads, move out!!

More were coming.

Eirana wiped the blood from her brow, slung her blade across her back, and took off into the thickening mist of the Deadroot Forest.

The Voidcloak followed, each step it took leaving behind a faint trail of darkness that refused to fade. But despite all this, they didn’t know that the Voidcloak’s roar has alerted someone that wasn’t meant to be alerted of it’s existence.