The Path Of A True King.
Chapter 47: A Friend Is Gone.

Chapter 47: A Friend Is Gone.

Chapter 86

Kai was fully healed.

The pain had vanished, the wounds erased—but the sensation of Dark Ki still surged through his veins.

It was vivid.

Exhilarating.

It pulsed like a second heartbeat colder than ice, yet strangely empowering.

He stood in silence, breath steady, eyes slowly adjusting to the aftermath.

Blood painted the earth in crimson streaks.

Severed limbs lay strewn across the clearing.

The once-feral enemy was now nothing more than scattered scraps of flesh and bone.

Kai snorted not in mockery, but at the absurdity of it all.

He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out his phone.

In the distance, the dying echo of a gunshot rumbled like thunder across the night.

The Endless Forest stretched in all directions, its silence eerie, almost sacred.

Above, the moonlight streamed through the canopy in strands of silver, casting soft light over green leaves that danced in the night breeze.

Nature remained untouched. Indifferent to the slaughter.

It was almost poetic—how life moved on without pausing to grieve.

Life and death.

That was the cycle.

Nothing more.

Nothing less.

There was no immortality—only mortals foolish enough to believe themselves gods.

They clung to power, feared death, built illusions of eternity atop fragile bones.

But the trees oh, the trees they had lived for millions of years.

They had watched empires rise and fall, witnessed civilizations burn and be reborn.

And in their death, they whispered not of regret, but of understanding.

Their calm wasn’t peace. It was memory—ancient and enduring.

The scent of countless endings... and endless beginnings.

Kai exhaled softly and tapped Lucas’s number.

Ring... Ring...No answer.

He called again.

Ring...Still nothing.

A flicker of worry curled in his chest.

Not panic.

Just something cold.

Gnawing.

Lucas always answered.

Kai hesitated, then switched to Kevin’s contact.

He called.

Kevin picked up, voice sharp and clipped. "Kai, we’re a little busy. Call in 10 minutes."

Kai frowned. "You’re still fighting? Fine—I’m coming there."

The line went dead before Kevin could respond.

Kai’s eyes narrowed.

That wasn’t like him.

Without hesitation, he dialed Jack next.

The phone rang once before Jack answered, voice calm as still water. "What’s up, Kai?"

"Did anyone attack the base?" Kai asked, cutting to the point.

A pause.

Then a weary sigh. "Yeah. The idiot finally showed up."

Kai nodded slowly.

His face betrayed no concern.

Jack was calm.

That meant the situation wasn’t out of control.

To Kai, Jack wasn’t just reliable—he was unstoppable.

"Don’t take too long," Kai said. "Once you’re done, head to the Hotel base. Support Lucas and Kevin."

Jack’s voice remained cool. "Yeah. Just give me ten minutes."

Kai ended the call without another word.The screen went dark.

He slid the phone back into his coat and turned south—toward the Hotel base.

His expression was unreadable, but his steps were swift and steady.

The wind rustled the leaves, as if bidding farewell to the calm.

And Kai moved.

Moments Earlier – Before Sunset

Everything moved.

Ben and Marcus had already vanished ripping away from the battlefield like twin meteors flung in opposite directions, only to collide deeper within the forest.

The others didn’t follow.

They knew better.

This fight wasn’t for backup.It wasn’t for spectators.

It was personal.

They landed in a narrow hollow, surrounded by crooked trees and jagged stone.

Ben’s coat fluttered as he adjusted the crude iron gauntlets on his arms—thick knuckle-plates forged from layered steel, reinforced fingers designed to crush bone, and forearm guards dense enough to stop a blade.

Each gauntlet pulsed with a deep hum as Ki flowed into them, dark red lines flickering like veins across the surface.

His eyes never left Marcus.

"You picked a good place to die," Ben muttered.

Marcus drew his sword with a soft rasp slim, blackened metal with a faint green edge that glowed faintly, unnaturally.

"Your fists won’t stop this blade," he said coldly.

Ben cracked his neck. "We’ll see."

Ki surged.

His boots dug into the dirt.

Aura coiled tight around his gauntlets, shimmering like molten iron.

Marcus struck first—a blur of motion.

His blade slashed down in a perfect arc—clean, precise, surgical.

Ben sidestepped.

His left gauntlet rose just in time.

CLANG—!!

Steel screamed against steel, but the blade didn’t break through.

Ben grinned.

He shoved forward, Ki exploding from his core as he threw a savage right hook.

Marcus twisted, barely evading.

He countered with a low slash toward Ben’s thigh.

Ben caught it with his forearm guard.

CLANG—!!

The impact stripped bark from nearby trees.

Shockwaves rolled through the clearing.

They leapt back.

Paused.

Breathed.

Then lunged again.

Marcus attacked in a flurry—strikes becoming a blur of green arcs and ghost-steel.

His movements were refined.

Lethal.

Mechanical.

He fought like a man who’d had his soul beaten out and replaced with pure precision.

Ben ducked under a slash, rolled low, then exploded upward—both fists slamming into Marcus’s ribs with twin bursts of Ki.

Marcus grunted, staggered—but spun with the momentum and brought his blade down toward Ben’s shoulder.

Ben raised both gauntlets and caught the strike.

The sword cracked against reinforced steel.

Sparks flew.

For a heartbeat, their eyes locked.

Ben was smiling.

"I remember you hitting harder."

Marcus twisted, landed on the far side of the clearing, and exhaled slowly.

His blade shimmered faintly, Ki reinforcing its edge.

"You’ve improved," he admitted. "But raw strength won’t be enough."

Ben didn’t respond.

He charged.

Crimson Ki flared around him as he activated Burst Technique again, pushing his body past its limit.

His fists blurred—

Jab.

Duck.

Elbow.

Backstep.

Haymaker.

Marcus dodged most—but the last punch clipped his shoulder, drawing blood and forcing him back.

Ben followed.

A barrage.

Each hit flowed into the next—rhythmic, relentless, like thunder drums pounding bone.

Marcus parried desperately.

Blade rang.

Sparks flew.

Then—he vanished.

No sound.

No flash.

Just gone.

Ben spun instinctively—just as the blade came for his back.

He caught it mid-spin with his gauntlet, then twisted away, letting it graze his side.

In the same motion, he drove a knee into Marcus’s gut, followed by a brutal uppercut that lifted him clean off the ground.

The strike cracked the air like splitting stone.

Marcus crashed into a tree with a sickening thud, coughing as he dropped to one knee.

Ben approached, panting slightly.

"You don’t fight like you used to," he muttered, spitting blood.

Marcus wiped his mouth.

Blood ran from his lip.

Ben dropped into stance again.

Marcus’s eyes narrowed.

They charged.

The trees trembled.

Shockwaves rolled with every strike.

Birds scattered.

Sparks rained.

Ben’s gauntlets were dented.

Blood streaked his face.

Marcus bled from his mouth, a long cut tracing his cheek and shoulder.

Still—they didn’t stop.

Marcus slashed upward in a spiraling arc, Ki coiled like a serpent around his blade.

Ben stepped into it.

The edge met his gauntlet—metal shrieked.

For a moment, it looked like Marcus might break through—

But Ben gritted his teeth and slammed a hook into Marcus’s ribs.

Crack.

The sound of breaking bone.

Marcus staggered, turned it into a spin, blade sweeping low.

Ben jumped.

His knee rose high.

He dropped a heel onto Marcus’s collarbone mid-spin and landed behind him.

Marcus choked.

And that’s when Ben struck.

He surged forward wrapping both arms around Marcus’s torso, locking him in a crushing grip.

"Remember this?" he whispered.

Marcus struggled, but his arms were pinned.

Ben roared.

His Ki exploded.

He lifted Marcus—and slammed him spine-first into the dirt with a thunderous crash.

Marcus coughed blood.

His sword fell from limp fingers.

Ben rose.

Ki surged into his right gauntlet—glowing red-hot from overload.

"I didn’t want to do this," he said softly.

Marcus reached up—weakly.

To plead or to strike, Ben didn’t care.

He brought his fist down.

Once.

Right into Marcus’s chest.

The impact crushed ribs, heart, and muscle.

A shockwave rippled through the ground in a perfect ring.

Marcus’s eyes went wide.

He gasped.

Then stilled.

Ben knelt for a moment, fist still resting on Marcus’s chest as the last of his Ki faded.

The forest held its breath.

Then—silence.

Just the quiet weight of a life ended.

Ben stood slowly.

His gauntlets steamed, stained with blood and ash.

He looked down at Marcus—now just a broken corpse beneath the trees.

"...Damn shame," Ben muttered. "We came from different corners of this gangless place, but I still considered you a friend, Marcus."

He turned.

Exhaled.

And began walking back toward where Tony and the others were fighting.