An Unwritten Story [Villainous Power Couple, LitRPG]

The knight stepped forward, the weight of lives pressing against his back like unseen hands refusing to let him fall.

He did not possess the wings of an angel to soar into the heavens, nor had any divine blessing descended upon him like rain. He had been born ordinary—painfully so. Yet, because of a dream engraved into his soul by memory and fire, he still chose to reach for those heavens as if the world owed him something greater.

Kaelen’s first strike carved a thin line across the monster’s torso. The wound split cleanly, only to seal just as fast. The corrupted flesh folded inward, knitting itself back together with a sickening ripple.

In the next heartbeat, the monster’s fist came whistling toward his skull, the wind pressure scraping across Kaelen’s cheek as he twisted at the waist.

But the first attack had been nothing but bait.

Kaelen choked on a sudden mouthful of blood as a second blow—faster, heavier, and rising from below—caught him off guard.

He managed to thrust his sword down just in time, the steel meeting flesh with a brutal clang. The kinetic impact rattled through his bones. His boots tore deep trenches into the earth as the forced momentum shoved him backward.

The difference in physical strength is too much! Kaelen thought, a warm, metallic liquid instantly filling his mouth. He spat the blood onto the dirt, his gaze never leaving his opponent.

Unshaken, he tightened his grip. He let out a deafening roar, every ounce of his body weight and accumulated frustration into the sweeping arc.

This time, the monster’s blood sprayed outward in a thick burst. The wound remained wide open—It trembled, but it did not close.

It can regenerate, but not large wounds, Kaelen realized, narrowly ducking under a counterattack before driving his blade forward again. If I just pour enough strength into my strikes, I can overpower it.

From somewhere around him, Kaelen could hear the clashing of steel from his teammates—the chaotic rhythm of survival. Yet, he did not hesitate to focus entirely on his own fight. He could only help them after he destroyed the monster standing in front of him.

The monster unleashed an agonizing shriek that tore through the air like a localized storm. Something inside that scream slithered directly into the minds of everyone left on the battlefield—an instinctive fear.

It wasn’t a roar of simple rage; it was agony—a wretched, distorted plea wrapped in hatred. It was a scream that actively demanded death, yet fundamentally refused it.

Compared to the towering abominations his squad was currently holding off, the creature Kaelen faced was only slightly larger than an average human. But it possessed intelligence, which only made the encounter worse.

Two rapid exchanges forced Kaelen backward again, his boots skidding across the stones. He drove his sword tip into the ground, using the blade as a temporary brace while his breath escaped in ragged gasps.

“It’s too… the attacks are too narrow,” he muttered under his breath.

His strikes were sharp, but they lacked a terminal edge. It felt like trying to chop down an ancient tree with a simple kitchen knife.

The monster’s right arm swung toward him again, refusing to grant him even a single second to catch his breath.

Kaelen angled his blade, deflecting the trajectory as bright sparks spit outward into the dark. Another strike followed immediately—he ducked beneath the sweeping limb, rolling hard to the side.

Then, the earth beneath his knees ruptured. Slick, writhing tentacles burst from the broken cobblestones, lashing themselves tightly around his ankles.

The appendages constricted, ruthlessly trying to drag him off balance. Kaelen grunted, slashing downward to sever one of the tethers, then pivoted hard on his heel despite the immense pull.

He forced his trapped leg free, his boots tearing through the monster’s flesh as he ripped himself away.

His blade moved exactly as his will commanded; his footwork shifted in tight, practiced arcs, his ragged breathing syncing perfectly with his physical motions.

Every strike was measured; every dodge was stolen by fractions of a second. The monster adapted at the exact same speed.

The creature feinted high, and Kaelen raised his guard in response. The beast threw a sweeping kick low, and Kaelen leapt backward into the air. More tentacles shot forward to impale him—he spun mid-air, cutting two of them apart before his boots touched the ground.

The cobblestones cracked under the beast’s next stomp, sending stone fragments erupting upward. Kaelen shielded his eyes with his forearm, then charged through the flying debris.

His shoulder slammed hard into the monster’s torso. Both of them staggered back from the impact, before Kaelen drove his elbow forcefully into the creature’s jaw.

The monster responded instantly, grabbing his armor and hurling him clear across the street.

Kaelen crashed through a deserted wooden cart, the structural timber splintering into pieces around him.

“…Damn… this strength is insane,” he breathed, pushing his battered body up with shaking arms. “But… one way or another, I am going to kill you.”

---

Kaelen’s stamina was thinning rapidly, looking like a candle nearing the end of its wick. Sweat blurred his vision, and each subsequent swing of his sword grew visibly heavier.

Yet, in contradiction to his exhausting state, the monster showed zero signs of tiring.

“Hey… shouldn’t we step in and help them?” Rose asked Noa, her golden eyes wide with worry as she watched the grim display unfold.

“No… Not yet.” Noa remained seated on the grass, his purple gaze locked onto Kaelen’s movements.

They were positioned on top of a high hill that granted them a perfect view of the entire conflict area while Noa utilized Aether Sensitivity to scan the parameters of the zone.

He was carefree, but he wasn’t irresponsible enough to let the citizens of his partner’s kingdom die.

Strange… That guy hasn’t used a single skill throughout this entire fight. Noa’s eyes narrowed, before a slow smile formed on his lips. But that footwork, the timing, the constant restraint… his swordsmanship easily surpasses my own.

He leaned forward slightly, his eyes gleaming with genuine intrigue, looking as if he were watching a rare theatrical performance rather than a life-or-death struggle.

---

Kaelen’s blade struck again. And again. And again.

Each wound he inflicted dealt only marginal damage, while his own arms grew progressively heavier and his breathing fractured further.

Not yet! I have to reach ‘that place’ at least once. His dream dragged his exhausted, battered body forward. Looks like I have to use my last and only power.

Then, something warm deep within his chest erupted as his sword began to glow, starting from the base of the hilt.

***

The city burned like a fallen star choking on its own ashes.

Towers cracked and crumbled under the weight of collapsing roofs. Stained-glass windows melted into glowing rivers of ruined color, and black smoke spiraled into the sky, swallowing the moon until even the light seemed entirely ashamed to linger.

The distant bells of a church rang out through the chaos, echoing across the city like a divine judgment, but there was almost no one left alive to hear them.

The shadows of shattered statues watched over streets littered with burning banners. The flames whispered, creeping like starving animals through abandoned homes and ruined market stalls.

“NO! MOM!!!”

A young boy—no older than ten years old, his dark-blue hair matted with soot and ash—reached a small, trembling hand toward the woman who had just forcefully shoved him away from a collapsing, flaming doorway.

“Go… and hold your sword, my little knight,” she whispered, her words sounding softer than the rushing wind. “Run… and live long enough to remember me.”

Then, the structure gave way, and she fell alongside the burning house she was trapped inside, looking like a lone candle extinguished by an indifferent fate.

The boy’s ocean-blue eyes flooded with tears. His chest convulsed with sobs he couldn’t understand. Still—he turned and ran.

“HELP—!”

“Someone… PLEASE HELP ME!”

The roaring flames devoured voices he would never get to hear again, but he kept running, his desperate footsteps echoing away from the heat.

Sacrifices had been made for a purpose, and right now, that purpose was his sole survival.

Clutching a small wooden practice sword tightly with both hands, he swallowed his sobs and skidded around a debris-filled corner, his young body covered in sweat and mud.

Out of nowhere, a blade descended rapidly toward his head, but before it could connect, another sword intercepted the trajectory. Steel screamed against steel in a deafening crash.

Amidst the roaring fire and chaos stood a single figure.

His body was wounded, bleeding a crimson torrent that mixed poorly with the dark color of the dirt. Nevertheless, in front of that tiny boy holding a toy sword, the man stood unyielding, a bright, confident smile plastered across his face.

The boy’s breath caught in his throat—not only at the sight of the real, gleaming armor he had always wanted to wear, but at the knight’s unshakeable posture.

The man stood like a fortress wall carved out of resolve.

“…Where did you even come from?” the knight muttered between breaths, glancing back at the boy for a brief second. “Doesn’t matter. Just run. I’ll save every single person I can.”

The boy’s tear-soaked eyes widened as he looked up at the silhouette. There were twelve armored enemy knights surrounding the man—twelve—yet he was smiling.

“Why… aren’t you running away?” the boy’s voice trembled on its own.

The knight looked back at the boy over his armored shoulder. “Because I want to become a Royal Knight.” Tightening his grip on his hilt, he pointed his blade at the closing enemies. “And a Royal Knight does not run away while people are still screaming for help.”

Slowly, a brilliant, ocean-blue light began to gather along the length of his blade—it wasn’t the volatile glow of the surrounding flames, nor was it the standard Aether used for basic spells.

It was something entirely his own.

“Watch carefully, boy.” The knight took a step forward, then another, as the enemies closed the distance. “This is how a Royal Knight stands. Remember this moment—how the hope of a lingering dream fights back.”

The blade glowed with blinding intensity, and the world around them continued to burn, but the hope within that circle refused to kneel.

That day, the young boy did not dream of revenge; he dreamed of standing where that knight had stood, and reaching the place that the unnamed man had died trying to reach.

***

Kaelen coughed up a spray of blood, and a pure, warm blue light ignited along his blade, looking like a clear sky after a heavy rain.

Yes, don’t worry, I still remember that moment, he thought, closing his eyes for a split second. In fact, this is the only skill I have ever been able to use in my entire forty-five years of living. Though, calling it a skill isn’t even accurate either.

[Aura Blade]

Then, unexpected even to Kaelen himself, the gathering aura suddenly spiked in volume, expanding rapidly and making him unable to control its output correctly.

What is it now?!

He tried to contain the burst, but in the next second, the monster came flying toward him. Kaelen managed to dodge the physical strike, but his aura remained highly unstable, crackling wildly around his frame.

Wait… this sensation… he thought, feeling a sudden familiarity within the wild energy. For the first time in his life, he felt the aura trying to take its own shape.

Kaelen focused his mind entirely on his aura, shifting his concentration away from the monster despite his body accumulating more wounds and bleeding freely.

Then, in his left hand, the brilliant light of his aura slowly began to expand outward—marking the first time it had ever manifested without a physical object to lean on.

It was highly unstable at first, shifting like a fluid slime, but as Kaelen narrowed his focus, the energy began to take a definitive shape.

[Blade Projection]

The light extended beyond steel, and a perfect projection materialized. His aura was no longer merely coating his weapon; the energy itself had literally become a blade.

---

Up on the hill, Rose watched the spectacle unfold, her eyes widening in silence as her hands instinctively flew up to cover her lips.

“That’s… there’s a next level to [Aura Blade]?” she murmured beneath her palms. “Just how did he manage to…?”

That’s the next stage of [Aura Blade]? Noa thought, catching Rose’s quiet mutters. If even she didn’t know of it, looks like not many know of it… including me.

---

A terrified screech escaped the monster as it staggered backward, and for the first time since the encounter began, a trace of genuine fear crept up its warped spine.

Kaelen lunged forward, letting out a thunderous battle cry that tore from his throat.

Each step he took literally cracked the cobblestones beneath his boots. The monster swung wildly in panic—but Kaelen sliced through the incoming arm mid-motion, using both of his blades in a devastating cross-cut.

More tentacles erupted from below, but he twisted his blade made of aura in response, extending the energy line and severing them before they could ever reach his position.

The creature scrambled desperately to retreat as it saw Kaelen closing the distance with lethal intent.

“You have fought long enough,” Kaelen said quietly, his breath shaking from exhaustion. “I will carry the weight of ending this.”

One step. One breath. One swing.

He let go of his steel sword entirely, gripping his aura blade with both hands before extending its length directly toward the monster. He swung with everything he had left, and the brilliant blue light cut through flesh, bone, and the monster’s fear alike in a single flash.

The monster was cleanly split apart, the fragments of the unfortunate civilians that made up its artificial form rapidly dissolving into ash, and with its demise, a silence followed.

Kaelen’s legs gave out, and he collapsed onto the ground, his eyelids shutting tight as exhaustion took its toll.

As the darkness of unconsciousness closed in around him, faint voices brushed softly against his ears.

“Thank you…”

“Our blessings…”

“Keep moving forward…”

The lingering warmth of the voices faded before he could hear anything more.

---

Noa tapped his knee with his finger, pouting in mild disappointment. Looks like the main show is over. He looked past the fallen captain toward the other side of the square. Even though that blue guy won, those other three dudes are still struggling.

He stood up, applying a layer of Aether around his clothes to push away the accumulated dust before stretching his arms over his head.

“Well, I suppose sitting around dramatically won’t solve this.” He let out a long, exaggerated yawn. “And since the main event is wrapped up, there’s no fun in watching anymore.” Turning toward Rose, he extended his hand. “Rose, give me your sword.”

She blinked in confusion. “Ah—okay! I’ll come with you!”

“No. Your sword is enough. Just give that to me, goddammit!” Noa reached over and grabbed the hilt from her hands before she could offer another argument.

“B-but—will you be fine on your own?” she asked quickly before he could leave the hill. “I can see you’re strong… but three at once?”

Noa flashed a quick smirk. “Don’t worry, I’m much stronger than I look.”

[Blink]

---

Down in the burning plaza, the three knights were also reaching their limits.

“Damn… these things are way too strong!” one of the knights screamed, using his shield to block an attack.

Another looked back at the third, gritting his teeth. “How much longer do we have to hold out?!”

The third furrowed his brows, uncertain. “The reinforcements should be—”

His words died out as he saw all three of the monsters surrounding them get split apart in a flash, cut down by a single sweeping slash. A dense, dark purple aura devoured their wounds, chewing through their mutated flesh like acid and halting their regeneration.

“What… just happened?” he muttered as he stared at the scene. Turning towards the other two, he asked, “Was that one of you guys?”

“Umm… no?” one of the two replied. “But they’re… dead at least, right?”

As the knights stared at the dying monsters in confusion, a voice drifted over from the side, near the spot where their captain had collapsed.

“You really are something else,” Noa said lightly, lazily adjusting his grip on Rose’s sword as he looked down at Kaelen’s unconscious body. “It makes it seem like even I’m inside your little story if I suddenly show up out of nowhere to save you like this. Well, try not to make a habit out of it.”