Path of the Unmentioned: The Missing Piece-Chapter 84: Feathers and Fury [3]

Kyle’s vision swam. The edges blurring like ink in water.

His leg burned as if molten metal had been poured into the wounds.

Four deep gashes torn by the Vorthal’s claws.

Blood soaked through his pants, warm and sticky.

Trickling down his calf in slow tickling trails before pooling inside his boot.

Every slight movement made the leather squelch.

The creature loomed before him.

Its one remaining eye locked onto him with terrifying intensity.

The pupil was a thin black slit like a snake’s.

Surrounded by a sickly yellow iris that seemed to glow in the dim forest light.

Veins of black corruption spread from its eye. Creeping across its stretched pale skin like cracks in dried mud.

The other socket was a ruined mess. The eyelid melted shut from Kyle’s lightning. Tendrils of smoke still curling from the charred flesh.

Zalrielle trembled in Kyle’s grip.

The sword’s usual crackling energy had faded to weak blue sparks that fizzled out before they could travel more than an inch.

The leather-wrapped hilt felt slippery in his sweaty hands.

The familiar grooves barely noticeable through the numbness in his fingers.

Behind the monster. His teammates moved as if trapped in thick syrup.

Orion. Usually a mountain of strength. Swayed like a drunkard struggling to lift his warhammer.

The weapon’s head. Normally effortless for him to swing.

Now dragged through the dirt as though weighed down by invisible chains.

Blood from his rib wound had spread across his shirt in a dark wet stain. Growing larger with each ragged breath.

Sylvie’s wand hand shook violently.

Her bright blue hair, usually full of energy.

Clung to her sweat-slicked face in limp strands.

The water orb she tried to summon flickered weakly. Droplets pattering uselessly to the ground before fully forming.

Isolde’s fiery montante was little more than a dying torch.

The flames reduced to faint orange embers.

Each step she took left a smeared footprint of blood from her wounded leg.

Her braid had come undone in places red strands sticking to her neck.

Roland had given up standing entirely.

He knelt in the dirt.

One hand pressed against the deep claw marks across his chest.

His breaths came in wet, shuddering gasps.

Each exhale flecked with blood that dripped onto the forest floor.

The Vorthal’s beak split open with a wet cracking sound.

Like bones snapping.

Rows of needle-like teeth glistened with thick black saliva. Strands of it stretching between its jaws before dripping to the ground.

Where the drool landed. It hissed burning tiny holes into the leaves and dirt.

The stench of its breath hit Kyle like a physical blow.

Rotting meat and stomach acid. So strong it made his eyes water.

Five paces away.

Four.

Three.

Close enough that Kyle could see the barbs on its feathers.

The way its talons flexed in anticipation.

Then Aurelia’s voice cut through the panic in his mind:

—"When you are out of options, stop thinking. Just act."

Kyle moved before his mind could catch up.

He dropped his stance and charged.

The sudden movement sent fresh agony through his wounded leg.

But he gritted his teeth and pushed through it.

The Vorthal’s eye widened.

The prey wasn’t supposed to run toward it.

At the last second.

Kyle threw himself into a slide.

Mud and leaves sprayed up around him as his knees hit the ground.

The damp earth cooling his burning wounds.

The Vorthal’s talons whistled just above his head.

Close enough to ruffle his hair.

One claw nicked the tip of his ear.

Sending a sharp sting across his temple.

But then he was inside its guard.

Zalrielle came up in a brutal thrust.

Guided by pure instinct.

The blade punched through the Vorthal’s chest with a sickening...

Crunch

Sliding between ribs until the crossguard slammed against bone.

Black blood gushed over Kyle’s hands so hot it nearly burned. Thick like tar.

The creature’s shriek was deafening.

Vibrating through Kyle’s skull.

Its body convulsed.

Wings beating wildly.

Talons raking the dirt.

Kyle held on. His arms shaking feeling its frantic heartbeat through the steel.

With the last of his mana. He activated his ice magic.

"[Frostbite]." He muttered.

The spell exploded inside the Vorthal’s chest.

Ice spikes erupted in every direction bursting through organs, veins, muscle.

A two-foot spike of ice shot from its mouth. Glistening with black blood.

More tore through its back, shoulders, thighs.

Pinning its limbs together in a grotesque frost-covered sculpture.

For one endless moment.

The Vorthal stood there.

Twitching.

Its eye rolling wildly.

Then it collapsed.

The impact shook the ground.

Shattered ice glittered in the dim light as the massive body finally stilled.

Silence.

Then, a crackling sound.

White light seeped from between the ice spikes.

Growing brighter until the entire corpse was engulfed.

With a sound like shattering glass.

The Vorthal burst into swirling motes of light before vanishing completely.

In its place. Ten glass vials materialized on the grass.

Five mana potions. Their blue liquid swirling with tiny glowing particles.

Five health potions. The red liquid inside thick like syrup. The glass warm to the touch.

Kyle’s arms gave out.

He would have faceplanted into the dirt if Orion hadn’t lunged forward and caught him.

"Damn, kid," Orion breathed.

His deep voice unsteady.

Sweat dripped from his brow onto Kyle’s shoulder mixing with blood and grime.

His own wounds stood out angrily against his dark skin the gashes still oozing.

Isolde limped over.

Her montante dragging behind her.

Its flames completely dead.

Her shoulder wound had reopened.

Fresh blood adding to the stains on her uniform.

Yet she managed a tired grin.

"Stupid," she croaked, her voice came hoarse from exhaustion.

"But effective."

Sylvie stumbled to Roland’s side nearly tripping over her own feet.

Her hands shook so badly she could barely hold the health potion.

"H-here," she stammered, pressing it into his hands.

Roland drank greedily color returning to his face as the magic knitted his flesh back together.

He let out a relieved sigh that turned into a cough.

"We... actually did it."

Kyle could only nod. His throat too raw for words.

The forest was eerily silent.

No birds.

No insects.

Not even wind.

Just their ragged breathing and the occasional drip of blood.

Somewhere deeper in the rift.

The central hill still waited.

But that was a problem for later.

For now they had survived.

———

Authors Note: Hello, lovely readers!

Newbie here. I hope you’re enjoying the story so far.

I’ve been experimenting with my writing style.

Adding more detail to the surroundings and diving deeper into the atmosphere of each scene.

I would love to hear your thoughts.

Do you like the richer descriptions or do they slow things down too much? Also, how did you feel about the fight scene? Was it too long? Your feedback is important for me. So pls let me know what you think.

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