⚔️ **CHAPTER 67 — The Gauntlet**
The forest had turned into a maze of shadows and mist. Trees, rocks, and fallen logs became weapons in the hands of the Council generals. Kael's body screamed with fatigue, hunger gnawed deep, but he stood upright. Centering held him steady, Iron Mind filtering threats, parsing what mattered in the chaos.
It was no longer survival. It was **a calculated battlefield**, step by step, thought by thought.
Three generals had converged this time: Rhayel, Tavric, and Soryn, moving with perfect coordination. Behind them, two more Council agents emerged from the mist, flanking from unexpected angles. The ambush was designed to crush them completely.
Kael felt the pressure hit simultaneously—mental intrusion, physical threats, environmental hazards. His body staggered. Exhaustion screamed. Hunger clawed. Pain flared from old scratches and fresh strikes.
But Centering and Iron Mind worked in tandem:
* Centering anchored every step, every pivot, every dodge.
* Iron Mind filtered distractions, highlighting threats, predicting the generals' moves from subtle cues.
Rhayel lunged, blade flashing. Kael sidestepped just enough to let momentum carry him behind Tavric's next swing. Tavric followed, swinging a fallen tree as a blunt weapon. Kael twisted mid-air, rolling, and narrowly avoided impact. Soryn reached into his mind, probing doubts, fears, and memories—but Iron Mind filtered the attack, sending only what Kael *needed* to react.
"Keep moving! Don't stop!" Veyrath's voice echoed from above.
Kael pivoted, narrowly dodging a spear thrust from one of the flanking agents. Every movement cost him—but he remained upright, thinking clearly, calculating, surviving.
Caelin blocked a strike from Rhayel, then rushed to help Mireya against Tavric. Tomas darted through the mist, attacking Soryn's focus points with knives and distractions. Kael, staggering yet steady, realized he could **manipulate the battlefield subtly**. He feigned weakness in one direction, drawing the generals into overextension. Then he shifted, turning their own coordination against them.
Rhayel stumbled, Tavric misjudged a swing, Soryn faltered for a fraction of a second—enough.
Kael lunged into action—not strong, not fast, just calculated. He shoved a fallen branch into Tavric's path, causing the general to trip, and sidestepped Rhayel's counter, letting him crash into the mist-shrouded undergrowth.
Soryn attempted another mental assault—but Kael had **learned to split his focus**, feeding Iron Mind the intrusion while Centering kept his body ready. The probe faltered. For the first time, Kael didn't just survive a mental strike—he **rebounded strategically**.
The Council's attack collapsed in a controlled chaos. One by one, the generals retreated, unwilling to expend more energy on a target that survived fatigue, hunger, mental probing, and relentless physical pressure.
Kael dropped to one knee, chest heaving, muscles screaming, sweat and blood covering him. Centering had kept him upright; Iron Mind had filtered chaos into action.
"You… did it," Caelin said softly, gripping his shoulder. "We survived… together."
Kael swallowed, body trembling. "It wasn't strength. Just balance… and focus. Average, but enough."
Veyrath stepped closer, his eyes sharp. "You've evolved faster than I expected. Centering keeps you upright. Iron Mind filters chaos. They will push harder next time—but now you have tools to survive and respond."
Kael's gaze drifted toward the misty forest. Hunger, exhaustion, mental strain—it was relentless. But for the first time, he didn't feel like a boy merely surviving the storm. He felt like someone **capable of directing it, if only slightly**.
The Council would return.
And next time, Kael would **not just endure**—he would force them to miscalculate.
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