Path of the Unmentioned: The Missing Piece

The Black Legion camp was a maze of flickering torches and worn-out soldiers.

Tents stretched in uneven rows across the rocky ground. Armor clinked. Boots shuffled.

Somewhere in the distance. A man coughed harshly, followed by a low groan.

The air smelled thick. Smoke, sweat, and something else bitter… like burnt herbs and old blood.

Kyle walked silently with the others, following the soldier who had brought them from the command tent.

His legs felt like lead. His arms ached from holding Zalrielle for so long.

They stopped near the edge of the camp. Where a smaller tent was set up.

A black kettle hung over a weak fire, and a wooden table held stacks of dented bowls.

A gruff soldier behind it eyed them once. Then shoved a bowl into Kyle's hands.

The bowl sloshed. Inside was a gray, lumpy stew.

Chunks of something.

Meat? roots?

Floated in the thick broth. It looked like it had been boiled for hours, maybe days.

"Eat," the soldier grunted. "It's not poison. Just tastes like it."

Kyle stared down at it. The smell wasn't awful… but it wasn't good either. Kind of like boiled leather mixed with old onions and stale salt.

Cassian took a sniff of his own bowl and made a face. "This is worse than the academy's mystery meat."

Serena didn't say anything. She just sat down on a crate and started eating, her face blank.

Every bite looked mechanical. Like she was fueling a machine and not even tasting it.

Eleanora sat cross-legged nearby. She took a small bite, chewed once, and swallowed.

Her face didn't change. But Kyle saw the way she pressed a hand to her ribs after. As if the wound was still throbbing.

Cedric surprised everyone by finishing his first. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and set the bowl down.

"You get used to it," he said quietly.

Kyle sighed and forced himself to eat.

The first bite was exactly what he expected. Salty, greasy, and somehow both mushy and tough at the same time.

But he kept eating. His body needed it.

They hadn't eaten since before the exam started. Hour of battle, blood, and pain… and not a single proper meal in between.

He looked around at the others again.

Cassian was still flexing his leg under the table. Trying to keep it from going stiff. His face was tight with pain, though he tried to hide it.

Serena had finished her bowl but hadn't moved since. She sat quietly, shoulders tense, eyes unfocused.

Kyle couldn't tell if she was thinking or just empty.

Eleanora set her half-empty bowl aside. Her gaze drifted toward the center of camp. Where torchlight danced against canvas and steel.

She was really quiet after coming to the dungeon. But this silence felt heavier. She hadn't spoken since they left the Commander's tent.

Cedric leaned against a post nearby, arms crossed. There was something different about him now.

Less hesitation. Less doubt. Like the battle had cut away the softer edges.

Kyle set his bowl down and exhaled.

They had made it this far. But only barely.

Their storage rings still held the two health potions and two mana potions each. The standard kit given before the practical exam. But nothing else.

No backup gear. No food. No extra healing supplies. The exam rules had stripped them down, forcing them to rely on skill and instinct.

Those four potions were all they had.

Kyle touched the ring on his finger briefly. The mana signature inside hummed softly, like it understood the weight of the situation.

They couldn't waste them. Not yet.

———

After the meal. One of the Black Knights led them to a small tent near the edge of camp.

It wasn't much. Just a canvas shelter barely wide enough for five people.

The floor was bare dirt, and the air inside smelled of sweat and old canvas.

But it was dry, and more importantly. It was theirs for the night.

Kyle stepped in first, ducking under the flap, then held it open for the others.

One by one. They entered and set their things down. No one spoke for a moment. The silence felt heavy, stretched thin by exhaustion.

They sat in a loose circle, bedrolls spread out across the cramped space.

The only light came from a lantern hung on a low hook above them, flickering softly.

Kyle sat down last. His shoulders ached. His arms were sore. He didn't want to talk. But he knew they had to.

"We need to talk," he said quietly.

The others looked up.

Cassian leaned back with a quiet grunt, stretching his injured leg carefully.

"About what? We are stuck here. No way out but through."

"Yeah," Kyle agreed. "But we still need a plan."

Eleanora sat with her knees pulled to her chest.

"The dungeon gave us an objective. Eliminate the enemy commander."

Serena glanced her way. "And the Black Legion's commander told us to run if we see him."

"And if we don't kill him. We don't get out," Cedric added his voice low.

Kyle ran a hand through his hair. Then exhaled. "Which means we are going to have to fight him eventually. But not yet."

Cassian frowned. "So what. We just play along until then?

"For now, yeah." Kyle looked at each of them.

"We don't know enough. We don't know who this Red Commander is, what he can do, or even if he's really the target."

"For all we know. The dungeon could be lying."

Eleanora gave a small nod. "Gather information first. Then act."

Serena's fingers tightened around the shaft of her glaive, her knuckles pale. "And if the Black Legion falls before we get the chance?"

Kyle met her gaze. "Then we improvise. But right now, we're not ready. We are tired, we're hurt, and we barely survived the last fight." He paused.

"We need to heal. Rest. Watch. Learn how this war works before we make a move."

Cedric crossed his arms.

"Commander Halric said the Red Legion's pushing through the eastern pass at dawn. If they take it. This whole camp falls."

"So we hold the line. We stay alive. Until there's an opening."

Kyle nodded. "Exactly. We help them. But we keep our eyes open. When the chance comes. We take it."

A heavy silence filled the tent.

Outside. The wind rustled the fabric. Somewhere, a soldier groaned. Someone else coughed.

Cassian rubbed his eyes. "Fine. But if things go to hell. I'm not dying for a war that isn't even real."

Serena's voice was quiet, but cold. "It's real enough if we can't leave."

Kyle leaned back. Resting his head against the canvas wall. His muscles throbbed. His ribs ached.

His mind wouldn't stop spinning.

"We'll figure it out." He closed his eyes for a second.

"But first, we sleep. Dawn's coming fast, and we are no good to anyone if we are half-dead on our feet."

No one argued.

There wasn't much else to say.

The tent was too small to stretch out fully, and the thin bedrolls did little to soften the cold, uneven ground.

But even with the discomfort. It was the first real chance to rest since the chaos began.

They'd agreed on three things:

● Don't waste potions. Save them for life-or-death moments.

● Stick together. No solo heroics.

● Watch the Red Commander. If he was the key. They needed to know how to beat him.

Cassian lay down first. Easing himself onto his side with a soft hiss.

"You good?" Kyle asked.

"Yeah. Just hurts like hell," Cassian muttered. "Think the medic gave me something strong. Otherwise, I'd be screaming."

"Lucky you."

Across from him. Serena lay completely still. Her glaive rested beside her like a silent guardian.

Her eyes were closed. But Kyle had the feeling she wasn't sleeping.

Eleanora curled up near the far corner. Her back to the rest of them.

Her breathing was steady. But her posture tense, like she was trying to ignore everything around her.

Cedric was the last to lie down. Somehow. He looked more at peace than any of them.

His eyes closed quickly, and within minutes, his breathing evened out. Maybe he was too tired to stay awake.

Kyle stayed awake the longest.

He stared up at the dark canvas roof above him. The faint flicker of the lantern swayed with every breath of wind outside.

The air was cold. Damp.

His thoughts wouldn't stop.

The Vipers gang. The train attack. The Massacre. The black dungeon.

So much had happened in so little time, and now. They were deep in some cursed war that wasn't even theirs.

What if they couldn't kill the Red Commander? What if the dungeon didn't let them leave.

Even if they did everything right?

What if this place never ended?

Kyle clenched his fists, then forced them to relax.

No.

They'd find a way out.

They had to.

He closed his eyes.

Sleep didn't come easy.

But eventually... It came.

———