Path of the Unmentioned: The Missing Piece-Chapter 171: The Endgame [12]

[Kyle’s POV]

The world snapped back into focus with a jolt.

One second. Nothing but darkness. The whisper of that storm goddess’s lips on my head.

The next... pain.

Real, sharp, searing pain that lit every nerve in my body on fire.

I gasped, coughing blood. My ribs screamed with every breath, my vision still swimming.

But the moment I forced my eyes open. Everything else faded.

Because Rodrick was standing over Cedric.

His flaming sword raised, his face twisted in delight. Like a man about to squash a bug.

Cedric wasn’t moving. His golden hair was stained with blood. His breathing, shallow and fading.

And Rodrick... He was smiling.

Something inside me snapped.

No.

It didn’t snap.

It ignited.

I didn’t think. I didn’t feel.

I just moved.

BOOM.

The ground beneath me shattered. Dust and broken rock burst upward as my feet tore into the earth, launching me forward faster than thought.

The air howled past my ears. My body burned with speed.

My fist smashed into Rodrick’s face.

CRACK.

The sound echoed like thunder. A shockwave exploded from the impact, ripping through the battlefield like a bomb.

Rodrick’s body flew, crashing through soldiers, rocks. Dust and debris erupted behind him as he tore a deep trench across the battlefield.

And then... silence.

Everything stopped.

Even the rain.

Red and Black Legion soldiers stood frozen. The wind held its breath. The storm clouds above paused.

"K-Kyle...?" Cedric’s voice was barely a whisper.

I didn’t turn.

I just stood there, breathing hard. Or... I thought I was breathing. I wasn’t even sure anymore.

Lightning danced over my skin.

Blue-white arcs crackled around my arms, flickering between my fingertips.

Wind twisted around me, forming spirals of mana-infused air.

The ground under my feet was scorched and broken. Water in nearby puddles rippled outward, pushed by something unseen.

I raised one hand.

It wasn’t burned anymore. No wounds. Just smooth skin glowing faintly. With veins of light pulsing underneath.

And then, on my cheekbone. I felt something. A faint sting.

A mark.

I touched it.

Tracing the strange, elegant shape. A crescent, sharp as a lightning bolt, yet fluid like a whirlwind.

Tiny arcs of frost and storm swirled within its curve. Pulsing with a soft, electric blue.

My hair. Once bluish-black, now hung down in strands of bright white. Glowing faintly like moonlight on fresh snow. The tips shimmered. Shifting between blue and silver.

A translucent blue system screen blinked in the air in front of me.

[Stormborne Activated]

I stared at it.

Then clenched my hand.

The wind screamed as raw mana surged from my core, coiling around me.

Ice, lightning, wind, water. All of it responded. Like the storm itself was alive. Like it knew me.

No... like it obeyed me.

This wasn’t just my blessing anymore.

This was something else.

Something more.

———

[Rodrick’s POV]

Rodrick groaned as he spat out a mouthful of blood. He blinked rapidly, trying to steady his vision.

His jaw was shattered. He could feel it. His bones ached.

What... what the hell just hit him?

He dragged himself upright, pain lancing through his ribs.

And then he saw it.

Kyle.

But not the same boy he’d just left dying in the mud.

This Kyle stood at the center of a crater. Hair white, eyes glowing electric blue.

Lightning and wind arced over his body, twisting through the air like living serpents.

The aura around him was heavy. Too heavy. Even from a distance, Rodrick could feel the pressure pressing against his chest.

The very air bent around Kyle. The ground cracked beneath him.

Rodrick froze.

His mouth went dry.

His instincts. Those ancient instincts honed through a hundred battles, screamed at him.

Run.

But his pride held him in place. His rage, madness held him in place. He was the Red Commander. Survived cursed loops. He wouldn’t run from a boy.

No matter how terrifying he looked.

"K-Kyle?" Cedric croaked again, from behind.

Kyle didn’t answer.

He just moved.

CRACK.

The sound came a heartbeat before impact.

Rodrick barely managed to raise his arms before Kyle appeared in front of him and slammed a lightning-coated fist into his guard.

BOOM.

The force sent Rodrick flying again, feet scraping trenches in the dirt. But Kyle followed instantly.

Another punch.

Rodrick blocked it. But it didn’t matter.

The shockwave knocked the breath from his lungs.

ZAAAP.

A second pulse followed. Lightning delayed by half a second. It shot into Rodrick’s body, through his bones.

His body locked up. Smoke curled from his skin. His arms went numb.

He screamed.

He staggered, barely managing to stay upright. But it didn’t stop.

Kyle was relentless.

Another step. Another blow.

His foot slammed into Rodrick’s ribs with a dull, wet crack. Sending the Red Commander crashing through a half-broken barricade.

He rolled across the soaked earth, until he slammed into a shattered supply cart. Wood splinters flew. A metal pot clanged to the ground and spun away.

Rodrick coughed. Harsh, guttural, and more blood spilled from his lips.

He pushed himself up with trembling arms, barely staying upright.

His body was a mess. Burned, bruised, cut open in a dozen places. His left eye was swollen shut. And still, somehow. He laughed.

A hoarse, hateful sound.

Kyle didn’t answer.

His hands rose slowly, almost lazily. As if he wasn’t even trying anymore.

The rain started again, drenching everything. It filled the battlefield with shallow puddles and steam rising from charred earth.

And then...

Water moved.

A dozen spears of shimmering liquid shot up behind Kyle. It swirled in the air with perfect control.

No incantation. No magic circle. Not even a gesture. They simply... formed.

Rodrick’s eye widened. "Water affinity?" he muttered, stunned. "Another... a third one?"

The spears launched without warning.

Rodrick barely had time to react.

He threw up his hand and summoned a dome of fire. A desperate barrier.

The spears collided, slicing through the flame like knives through silk. His shields shattered in seconds.

He dodged, half-leaping to the side, only to stumble.

The puddle beneath his feet... it had moved.

Tendrils of water had crept up his boots, freezing solid with a sudden flash of ice. His legs locked in place.

His fire flared again, heat surging around him. But the water wasn’t melting fast enough.

The first spear hit. Then the second. Then five more in quick succession.

Rodrick screamed as the barbed tips punched through flesh, shallow but precise.

One in his shoulder. One through his thigh. Two near his ribs. One grazing past his arm. They didn’t kill. But they tore him, weakened him.

He barely had time to process the pain when it hit.

Lightning.

Every wound sparked. Electricity bursting from the embedded water, coursing through his nerves like burning wires.

The delayed current surged through his body with a sound like crackling paper.

Rodrick convulsed, teeth grinding as he fought not to black out.

And then the wind came.

A swipe of Kyle’s arm, and razor-thin blades of wind slashed across Rodrick’s already battered form. Skin tore.

Blood splattered onto the mud.

He roared, trying to tear his feet free. But the puddle beneath him boiled suddenly.

Then exploded upward into a spike of ice that cracked through and froze his foot in place.

Then it happened.

A glacier erupted beneath him.

Not massive, but sharp. freeweɓnovēl.coɱ

Jagged blue-white ice spears burst from the ground, impaling him in three places.

His left thigh, his right forearm, and his side. Shallow, again. Deliberate. Designed to wound. To immobilize.

Rodrick screamed. Raw and broken.

The battlefield around them was silent. What few survivors were left had long since stopped fighting. Watching in horror or awe.

Thunder rumbled overhead. And then, without warning, thin bolts of lightning fell from the sky, striking the earth around Rodrick’s pinned body.

The explosions scorched the ground, leaving blackened craters and steam curling into the rain.

Kyle walked forward, slow, steady, calm.

Each step sent ripples across the puddles at his feet.

Rodrick gritted his teeth, trying to lift his arm.

And then he saw it.

The glow.

Kyle’s skin was beginning to change.

Tiny glowing fissures crawled up his neck like veins of cracked light.

His jawline, his cheekbone. Cracks ran along them like delicate fractures in glass. Blue and white light pulsed just beneath his skin.

It wasn’t mana.

It was power trying to break free. Power his body could barely contain.

Rodrick stared, eyes narrowing.

The mark on his cheekbone glowed brighter. An ancient rune, now pulsing violently. His next step faltered. Just slightly.

A stumble that wouldn’t have been noticeable to anyone else.

But Rodrick saw it. Understood it.

Through the blood dripping into his eyes. Through the agony of broken ribs and scorched flesh.

Rodrick’s lips twisted into a gore-stained grin.

"You can’t hold it forever, can you?" he rasped, voice raw from screaming. He dragged himself upright, swaying but still standing.

"That power. It’s eating you alive."

Kyle said nothing.

———

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