⚔️ **CHAPTER 70 — The Shattered Path**
Mist clung to the jagged hills like frozen smoke, and the ruins beneath their feet groaned under every step. Kael's legs burned, his chest heaved, and hunger clawed at his belly—but Centering and Iron Mind held him upright. Fragile, imperfect, but alive.
The Council had escalated. Five generals, plus shadow operatives, were spread across the broken terrain, coordinating attacks from multiple angles.
Kael's companions were ready. Each had their specialty:
* **Caelin**, sword blazing, cut paths and deflected attacks with precise timing, predicting the movements of the generals.
* **Mireya**, shield raised, used terrain to her advantage, protecting the group while forcing enemies into traps.
* **Tomas**, silent as a shadow, flanking enemies, striking weak points, disrupting mental assaults with speed and cunning.
And Kael? He was no longer just surviving. He was balancing chaos. Centering kept his body intact, Iron Mind filtering attacks, calculating threats, and giving him enough clarity to act under desperate pressure.
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The first strike came from the mist:
**Rhayel**, the Whispering Blade, lunged at Kael with inhuman speed. Iron Mind filtered the mental assault from Soryn simultaneously, while Centering kept Kael's body moving. He rolled under the strike, landing beside Mireya just as she deflected Tavric's massive boulder with her shield.
A shadow fell from above—**Varynn, the Silent Executioner**, appeared, striking from the cliffs. Kael twisted mid-air, letting Centering thread body and mind together to dodge both Varynn and Rhayel's follow-up.
Caelin blocked Rhayel's swing, countering with a precise cut that staggered him. Mireya shoved Tavric off balance with a shield strike, forcing the Iron Hand to retreat. Tomas darted into the mist, disrupting Soryn's psychic assault with throwing knives at precise points.
The battle raged in every direction, a dance of blood, shadow, and mist.
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Kael felt it—the exhaustion, the hunger, the pressure. Every move required calculation. Every thought had weight. But Centering and Iron Mind had evolved: not invincible, not overpowered, just **enough**.
He feigned weakness, staggering, letting the generals overcommit. Then, with a sudden pivot, he used the terrain—a fallen beam and a loose rock—to redirect Rhayel into Tavric's path.
Soryn's mental push came again, sharper this time. Memories, failures, fears, sharpened like claws. Kael's vision blurred. Iron Mind filtered, Centering held him upright, and for a heartbeat, **desperation became a weapon**. He twisted, using the psychic push against the generals' own positioning, staggering Tavric and Rhayel simultaneously.
Veyrath's voice echoed from the ridge: "Good. They will underestimate the desperate—always!"
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By nightfall, the Council generals retreated, frustrated and wounded, but not defeated. The group was battered, bleeding, and exhausted—but alive.
Kael dropped to one knee, breathing raggedly. Blood and sweat streaked his face. "We… survived."
Caelin sheathed his sword, wiping a cut on his arm. "Barely. But surviving is all that matters now."
Mireya exhaled, bruised but steady. "And next time… we'll need more than balance. We'll need cunning."
Tomas leaned on a rock, chest heaving. "Average can only take you so far. But clever… clever can beat them."
Kael looked to the horizon. The Council would return. They always did. But this time, he had something they didn't: **a mind that filtered chaos, a body that stayed upright, and companions whose skills amplified his survival into strategy.**
And in the darkened, misty world around them, that would be enough… for now.
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