Path of the Unmentioned: The Missing Piece
Chapter 121: The Hidden Archive [3]

Kyle's head jerked up at the voice, his tired eyes struggling to focus for a second. When they did, his stomach dropped.

Anastasia D'Argent stood over him, arms crossed. Her crimson eyes scanning the mountain of books surrounding him.

The crown princess. His new assistant professor. The woman who had wiped the floor with him in training just days ago.

For a brief, panicked moment. Kyle considered lying. But the evidence was all around him.

Dozens of open books on weapons, ancient artifacts, magical bonds. There was no hiding what he'd been doing.

"I was just... doing some research," he said, rubbing his sore eyes. His voice came out rough from hours of silence.

Anastasia raised one perfect eyebrow. "Research?" She nudged a stack of books with her boot.

"'Theories of Arcane Weapon Bonding'? 'Legends of Living Steel'?" Her gaze sharpened as it landed on the untitled book still in his lap.

"You've been at this awhile."

Kyle's fingers tightened slightly on the book. "Yeah. Couldn't find what I needed through the normal search."

Anastasia studied him for a long moment, and Kyle fought the urge to squirm under her scrutiny.

Then, to his surprise. She sighed and crouched down beside him. Her black coat pooling around her.

"You're not the first student to hit this wall," she said. Her voice lower now.

"The Nexus (Academy's AI) doesn't index everything. Some texts are too old, too obscure... or too dangerous to be easily accessible."

Kyle's pulse quickened. "There's more?"

Anastasia stood abruptly, offering him a hand up. "Come on. I'll show you."

As Kyle took her hand and stood. His stiff muscles protesting.

She added, "Don't get too excited. It's just a storage section most students don't know about. But if what you're looking for exists. It'll be there."

Kyle nodded, "Thank you, Professor. I really appreciate this."

Anastasia waved him off as she led the way between towering bookshelves.

"Save your thanks. If you find what you're after. You can repay me by not looking quite so much like a corpse in our next training session."

Kyle huffed a tired laugh. "I'll try."

They wound through the library's maze until they reached an unremarkable section near the back.

Anastasia pressed her palm against what looked like a blank stretch of wall.

Runes flared briefly beneath her touch, and with a soft click. A hidden door swung inward.

"After you," she said, stepping aside.

The room beyond was smaller than the main library.

With a low ceiling and shelves packed with books that looked even older than the ones outside.

The air smelled of aged parchment and something faintly metallic.

"These are the uncatalogued texts," Anastasia explained, leaning against the doorway.

"Some are incomplete. Some are written in dead languages. Some..." She shrugged.

"Let's just say the academy keeps them separate for a reason."

Kyle stepped inside, his eyes wide. "How do you know about this place?"

"I did my own research as a student. Got stuck just like you." She pushed off from the doorframe.

"I'll leave you to it. Just... be careful with what you find. And put everything back exactly where you found it."

Kyle turned to face her fully. "Professor, I-"

"Save it," she cut him off, but her tone wasn't unkind. "I expect to see you in class tomorrow looking slightly less dead. Understood?"

Kyle nodded. "Understood."

With that. Anastasia turned and left.

The hidden door clicking softly shut behind her. Kyle exhaled slowly, then turned to face the shelves, his fingers brushing against the spines of ancient books.

Somewhere in this room. There had to be answers about Zalrielle.

———

Kyle ran his fingers along the cracked spines of the ancient books. Feeling the rough, dry leather under his touch.

Some of them flaked as he brushed against them.

So old they seemed like they'd crumble to dust if he pulled too hard.

He moved slowly, careful not to damage anything. Even as the dust made his nose itch and his eyes water.

One by one. He took books down from the shelf and scanned the titles.

"Forgotten Blades of the Third Era." Nothing useful. Just dry records of outdated weapon designs.

"The Art of War and Steel." More about sword styles and famous generals than anything magical.

"Myths of the Old World." Maybe. He opened it with hope flickering in his chest.

The pages smelled like old paper and rain. His eyes scanned story after story.

Tales of blades that hummed in battle, of axes that whispered names of the fallen.

But they were scattered, inconsistent. Nothing solid. Just myths, rumors, and the kind of stories bards told over drinks.

Hours passed.

He hunched over a small wooden desk in the far corner of the restricted section.

Lit only by a single mana-crystal lamp above. It cast a dim glow, barely enough to read by.

Shadows stretched long across the walls. His back hurt. His neck felt stiff. And his fingers were sore from turning so many pages.

Then he saw it.

Tucked tight between two thick encyclopedias was a thin, strange-looking book.

No title. No markings.

The leather cover had been worn smooth by time, edges frayed. It almost didn't look like it belonged there at all.

He pulled it free. The spine creaked when he opened it. Like a door that hadn't moved in a hundred years.

The pages were yellow and fragile. Some corners were chipped away. But the ink, though faded, was still readable.

—

In the Age of Sundering, when gods still walked among mortals. The Divine Smith crafted but seven weapons of living spirit.

Each was forged from a fragment of his own soul, and tempered in the heart of the world's first flame.

—

Kyle leaned forward, his heart beating faster.

This was it. This was what he had been searching for.

He carefully turned the page, making sure not to damage the fragile paper.

—

Only those chosen by the weapons themselves could awaken their true power.

The sword Vaelthar answered only to the knight who had lost everything.

The axe Durnak would speak only to one who had known true despair.

Of the seven, three were lost to time, two were sealed away. And the fates of the remaining two remain unknown…

—

His hands trembled slightly as he turned the next page.

But it was torn. Clean down the center. The rest of the passage was gone.

The pages that followed were in worse shape. Many were missing.

Some had writing too faded to read. Others had been damaged by moisture or mold.

It was like the book had been forgotten for centuries and left to rot.

Still, he had found something.

It is possible that Zalrielle is one of the weapons crafted by the Divine Smith

A chime echoed softly from somewhere high above.

The automated system's way of signaling sunrise. Kyle blinked and looked at his mana band.

6:00 AM.

His eyes burned. He hadn't slept at all. His whole body ached from sitting too long.

He rubbed the back of his neck. Trying to loosen the knot of pain near his shoulder.

Sighing. He gently closed the old book and stood.

The hidden door opened with a soft click, and he stepped out of the restricted chamber.

The main library was quiet, empty. The sunlight was just beginning to filter through the tall windows, casting pale gold light across the shelves.

Everything was still. Peaceful.

Kyle walked slowly toward the exit. His legs stiff and his thoughts still racing.

He didn't have all the answers. But now, at least, he had a direction. A place to start.

As he stepped outside, cool morning air brushed against his skin. The sky was a soft gray-blue.

The academy grounds still quiet before the rush of students began.

He looked down at his black ring, then up at the path ahead.

He made a silent promise as he walked.

'We'll figure this out, Zalrielle.'

And with that. He headed toward the quarters.

Hoping he could catch at least an hour of sleep before the next class.

———