Path of the Unmentioned: The Missing Piece
Chapter 189: A Gathering of Blades [1]

Chapter 189: A Gathering of Blades [1]

The chamber was vast. Its domed ceiling arching high above like the inside of a gilded eggshell.

There were no windows. No sunlight reached this place.

Only soft, magical lights floated near the edges. Casting a pale glow on the polished stone walls.

At the center stood a large round table made of pure obsidian. Its surface was so smooth it reflected the faces of those seated around it.

This was the Council Room of the Human Domain. A place where only the most powerful came to speak.

Kings, queens, high-ranking nobles, and ancient mages. Some sat in person, while others appeared through shimmering magical projections. Their bodies outlined in glowing threads of light. Powered by faraway magic.

The air was heavy. The kind of silence that crackled with tension. Words weren’t spoken easily here. When they were. They carried weight.

At the head of the table sat a man who needed no introduction.

King Sylas D’Argent.

The ruler of the Argent Empire. His black hair was streaked with silver near the temples, but his face showed no signs of weakness.

A thin golden crown rested on his head. Its edges sharp enough to cut skin. His black eyes were calm, but dangerous, like still water hiding a flood.

He tapped his fingers slowly against the armrest of his chair. The sound echoing faintly in the silence.

To his right, a projection flickered. A tall man with long black hair tied neatly behind his head and pale gray eyes full of cold focus.

This was Alistair Noctis, King of Noctis. The empire of the East. His voice was calm. But carried a chill.

"Another village burned near the western border," he said. "Demons this time. Not beasts. There were no survivors."

Sylas’ jaw tightened, just slightly.

Across the table. Another projection showed a broad-shouldered man with tousled dark blue hair and a deep scowl on his face.

Lorian Dainmar. The Head of the Hero’s Association in Aserion, crossed his arms and let out a harsh breath.

"That makes three outposts in the last month," he said. "This isn’t just random. They’re not just attacking. They’re hunting. It’s like they’re looking for something."

From the other side. A woman with emerald-green hair and robes lined with stars sat quietly, her hands pressed together.

High Priestess Illyria of the Celestial Spire. One of the most powerful figures in the Noctius Empire. Her voice was soft but clear. "Or someone."

A long silence followed her words.

Then came a low chuckle, light and mocking.

Duke Veyl. A noble from the southern parts of the Argent Empire, tilted his wine glass slowly in his hand.

He wore a rich cloak and a lazy smile, always too relaxed for the matters being discussed. "How poetic," he said.

"The demons have developed a taste for human prey."

King Sylas’ fingers stopped tapping. His voice dropped. "This isn’t a joke."

Veyl raised his hands slightly. "Of course not. Your Majesty. But let’s not act like this is some great mystery. Demons attack. We kill them. Then it starts all over again."

Lorian’s eyes narrowed. He slammed his fist against the table. "Tell that to the families of the dead."

Before more shouting could start. The large double doors at the far end of the chamber slowly creaked open.

Every head in the room turned.

A woman stepped inside. Seris Voidcrest. Her silver-white hair flowed over her shoulders like strands of ice, and the air around her shimmered.

Space itself seemed to ripple near her. Bending ever so slightly as if it was trying to stay out of her way.

Beside her. The flickering projection of another man appeared, an older figure in deep robes, with a sharp gaze and a tired expression.

Lucian Solvayne. Headmaster of the Grand Academy.

The room grew tense.

Seris gave a graceful nod. "Apologies for the delay," she said calmly. Her tone smooth and controlled.

Sylas didn’t look at her. His eyes went straight to Lucian. "You’re late."

Lucian bowed his head slightly. "It was unavoidable."

Sylas’ voice dropped a little more. "Unavoidable?"

Lucian didn’t back down. "My schedule was... complicated."

Sylas’ black eyes narrowed. "My daughter nearly died in your Academy’s care."

The room fell silent. The sentence hung in the air like a blade.

Lucian didn’t move. "The Black Gate incident was unforeseen. We have already taken measures to make sure it doesn’t happen again."

Sylas raised an eyebrow. "Taken measures?"

Lucian stayed calm. "The dungeon was an anomaly. We are still investigating how it got past our barriers."

Sylas let out a small scoff. His voice filled with sharp disbelief. "Anomaly? That’s your excuse?"

Seris stepped in before Lucian could answer. Her voice was calm, but firm.

"We’ve tightened security. We’ve taken measures to make sure it doesn’t happen again."

"Measures?" Alistair said sharply, his cold grey eyes narrowing. "You let students. Children, enter a Gold-rank dungeon. Do you call that a step in the right direction?"

Seris’ golden eyes glowed faintly. "They survived."

"Barely," Lorian muttered. "By luck."

"By skill," Seris corrected without blinking.

A heavy silence followed.

Then, from across the table. Duke Veyl leaned forward.

A sly smile playing on his lips. He swirled the wine in his glass slowly, eyes glinting with interest.

"So," he said, dragging the word out. "We have been hearing some... interesting rumors."

His gaze turned to Lucian. "About a certain target."

Lucian’s face stayed calm. "You’ll have to be more specific."

Veyl chuckled softly. "The attack on Eldermere City Hospital. Quite a dramatic scene. Fires, destroyed hallways, mana blasts. And yet. Only one room was completely obliterated."

He tilted his head. "Room 1004... That’s the room where Kyle Valemont was hospitalized. If I remember correctly. He’s the Gale Witch’s younger brother, isn’t he?"

The air in the chamber changed in an instant.

Cold and Heavy.

Seris didn’t move. But something invisible pressed down on the room.

An overwhelming pressure that made the walls creak and the floor groan. Even the wine in Veyl’s glass trembled.

Lucian’s voice cut through the tension like a blade. "Careful, Lord Veyl," he said quietly. "Your curiosity is starting to sound a lot like accusation."

Duke Veyl smirk faded slightly, but he forced a laugh. "Oh, come now. We’re all curious. I mean, what makes one student so important that demons would risk breaking into a guarded hospital just to kill him?"

"No."

The single word came from Seris.

Her golden eyes gleamed brighter.

The temperature in the room dropped fast. Breath steamed in the air. A loud crack rang out.

The glass in Veyl’s hand shattered. Dark red wine spilled across the table, running like blood over black stone.

No one spoke. No one moved.

Seris stepped forward slightly. Just enough for everyone to feel the shift.

Her voice was low and even. "Let me make something very clear."

She looked around the room. Her eyes glowing golden.

"The students of Solvayne are under our protection. Any... interest in them will not be tolerated."

She looked directly at Veyl. "Kyle Valemont. His safety. His secrets. Are our concern. Not yours."

Lucian followed with a sharp nod. "This council has no right to demand answers from a child who survived an attack. That’s not why we are here."

Veyl opened his mouth to speak again—

"Enough."

Sylas’ voice sliced through the air.

He leaned forward slightly. Black eyes fixed on Veyne like daggers.

"If I hear one more word about dissecting children for answers. I’ll have you removed from this council. Permanently."

Veyl’s jaw snapped shut.

The room fell silent again. The kind of silence that made people hold their breath.

Lucian finally spoke, his tone level but serious. "The Eldermere City Hospital attack wasn’t just an assassination attempt."

Illyria’s brows furrowed. "What was it, then?"

Seris’ eyes glowed softly.

"That," she said, "is what we’re here to discuss."

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