Path of the Unmentioned: The Missing Piece
Chapter 120: The Hidden Archive [2]

The classroom A1 buzzed with the usual post-lecture chatter.

Students moved around, packing up books, closing notebooks. And chatting about everything except the lesson.

The soft scrape of chairs echoed against the stone floor. Mixing with laughter.

Kyle sat near the back of the room. His notes were a mess. Half diagrams, half scribbled thoughts.

But he didn't care. His mind was already somewhere else.

Beside him. Reo stretched with a long groan, cracking his neck and shoulders.

"Man. I swear Professor Hale gets more sadistic every week," Reo muttered, rubbing one shoulder like it still hurt.

"That last drill? I thought my arm was gonna fall off."

Kyle chuckled, not looking up. "You say that every time."

Luna walked past. "You're just mad because you got knocked on your ass again."

Reo scowled. But there was no real anger in his face. "It was a cheap shot."

Kyle glanced at him. Relieved to see that spark back in Reo's voice.

After the train attack. Reo had been quiet. Too quiet.

But now? He was acting like his old self again. Complaining, bantering, alive.

Kyle's mana band buzzed on his wrist. A soft vibration, barely noticeable.

He tapped the screen, and a message blinked into view.

[Seraphina: Permission granted. The access is approved for the next 3 days. Don't make me regret this.]

Kyle couldn't help the small smile that formed on his face.

He typed a quick reply.

[Thanks. I owe you.] — And locked the screen.

Professor Seraphina hadn't asked too many questions. She didn't push or pry. She'd just... helped.

Across from him. Luna narrowed her eyes.

"You look suspiciously happy," she said, leaning closer. "Who's texting you? A secret lover?"

Kyle flicked her forehead without looking. "None of your business."

Reo raised an eyebrow, suddenly interested. "Wait… is it a lover?"

"No," Kyle said, stuffing his notebook and mana tab into his storage ring. "It's just—"

He paused. Then shook his head. "Forget it. I've got stuff to do."

Luna and Reo exchanged a look but didn't push further.

Three days.

'That was all the time I had.'

———

The library's main hall was alive with quiet energy.

Long wooden tables stretched between tall shelves. Filled with students bent over books, scribbling notes, or whispering in low voices.

Small Nexus bots zipped around overhead. Moving like glowing fireflies.

They carried stacks of books through the air. Sliding them into high shelves or dropping them gently on carts.

One flew past Kyle's head with a low hum. But he didn't look up.

His eyes were locked on the back of the hall. The elevator.

Unlike the rest of the library, which felt warm and welcoming. The elevator had an air of mystery.

It stood alone in the far wall. Its metal doors carved with glowing runes. The symbols pulsed with faint light, like a heartbeat.

Kyle walked toward it. His footsteps quiet on the smooth floor. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his academy ID.

As he swiped the card over the scanner. A soft chime sounded.

The elevator's voice came to life. It wasn't male or female, just a smooth, clear tone.

[Access granted. Fifth floor authorization confirmed: Kyle Valemont, First Year, Class A1. Duration: 72 hours.]

The doors slid open with a soft hiss.

Kyle stepped inside.

The elevator had no buttons. No panels. Just a quiet hum as it began to rise. Taking him somewhere most students never got to see.

Kyle stepped into the vast expanse of the library's fifth floor. His boots sinking slightly into the plush, sound-dampening carpet.

The air here was different, thicker.

Almost humming with the weight of ancient knowledge and the faint crackle of spatial magic stretching the room beyond its physical limits.

The ceiling arched high above, lined with glowing mana crystals that pulsed softly, casting shifting patterns of light over towering bookshelves that seemed to stretch endlessly.

Nexus bots. Small, spherical drones with glowing blue cores. Zipped through the air.

Their mechanical wings whirring as they carried stacks of books between shelves.

Kyle exhaled, running a hand through his hair. 'Three days.' That's all he had.

He approached the nearest terminal.

A sleek, floating screen embedded in a pillar of polished black stone.

Tapping it. He pulled up the library's search function.

"Query: Spirit Weapons."

The screen flickered, processing. Then—

[No results found.]

Kyle frowned. He tried again.

"Query: Sentient Weapons."

[No results found.]

"Query: Weapon Spirits."

[No results found.]

His jaw tightened. 'Nothing?'

He glanced around.

The other researchers. Mostly senior students and professors. Barely looked up from their work.

Their faces buried in tomes or hunched over glowing holographic displays.

'Fine. If the system won't help, I'll do it the hard way.'

Kyle started in the Weaponry & Artifacts section. Pulling down every book with even a vague connection to sentient objects.

"Theories of Mana-Infused Blades" – Useless. Just technical manuals on forging.

"Legends of the Forgotten Armory" – Myths and fairy tales, nothing concrete.

"Sentience in Constructs: A Study" – Focused on golems and automatons, not weapons.

Hours passed. His eyes burned from squinting at cramped text, his back stiff from sitting too long.

One of the Nexus bots hovered near him, chirping softly.

[Query: Assistance required?]

Kyle rubbed his temples. "Yeah, actually. Any books on weapons that… talk to their wielders?"

The bot whirred, processing. Then—

[No records found.]

He groaned.

By the second day. Kyle was growing desperate.

He came in early and stayed late. Barely stopping to eat.

Every book he found led nowhere. He dug through stacks of dusty volumes.

Flipping through page after page, hoping for even a hint. Some story, some theory. That mentioned anything like Zalrielle.

But there was nothing.

By the third day. Kyle was exhausted.

Dark circles hung under his eyes. His hair was a mess from running his hands through it too many times.

He sat slumped in a corner. Surrounded by piles of books. Some open. Some tossed aside in frustration.

Nothing.

No answers. No clues.

He let his head fall back against the shelf with a dull thud.

'What am I missing?'

Then—

"What are you doing here?"

A voice.

Kyle's head snapped up.

Standing over him was—

———

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