***
The forest was shrouded in silence, save for the faint rustling of leaves stirred by a cold breeze. Two figures stood among the shadows of ancient trees, their black robes blending into the darkness. The hoods obscured much of their faces, though one man's bald head gleamed faintly under the moonlight, while the other's long brown hair spilled from beneath his hood.
The bald man unfolded a piece of parchment, his eyes narrowing as he read its contents. His lips twisted into a sneer of disdain. After a deliberate pause, he crumpled the paper into a tight ball and let out a low growl.
"What a disappointment."
His companion tilted his head, the glint of amusement flickering in his eyes.
"You do realize that's an order from someone far above our rank, don't you?"
"And why should I care?" He replied, his voice dripping with defiance. He tossed the crumpled paper onto the forest floor, crossing his arms with an air of finality.
"They'll never know. And even if they did—what does it matter? If they want something done, I'll do it my way. The good ol' way."
The brown-haired man chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair from his face. "As expected from you, Garrick. Always the rebel. But I won't complain—it's more entertaining when there's chaos. I'll follow your lead."
A malicious grin spread across Garrick's face. "Better this way," he said, striding toward his horse. He mounted it with practice ease, his dark silhouette looming against the moonlit clearing.
"Let's catch up to the target."
The other man swung onto his horse with equal grace, his voice carrying a hint of mirth. "So, what's the plan?"
Garrick's grin widened, his voice cold and resolute. "Simple. We'll eliminate the daughter of the Vitalis Faction."
With that, they spurred their horses forward, their dark figures vanishing into the depths of the forest as the trees whispered secrets of bloodshed yet to come.
***
One day later...
Lea and the ever-stubborn, still-sleeping Luke continued their journey in the hired carriage. The sun hung high in the sky, casting a relentless heat that seemed to press down on everything.
Lea wiped her forehead, brushing away a single bead of sweat, her expression souring. The weather was merciless.
"It's still so far. I'd give anything for a bath right now." She muttered, glancing at the dry, dusty road ahead
The rhythmic clatter of wheels and the steady beat of the horse's hooves filled the air as Lea turned her head, glancing at Luke sprawled out on the rough wooden planks of the carriage.
"He's still sleeping," she muttered under her breath, her tone laced with disappointment. "How long is he planning to loaf around like that?"
Their relationship remained murky, evident in their strained interactions. Luke showed little interest in engaging with Lea, and Lea, for her part, seemed equally uninterested in forging a connection with him.
Yet, as Luke's indolence and defiance persisted, a nagging realization began to take root in Lea's mind. Her grandmother's warnings about him hadn't been exaggerated. Lea had initially thought she could handle him with ease—but now, she wasn't so sure.
Lea let out a heavy sigh. "Honestly, I can't wait to get home and focus on my studies," she muttered, more to herself than anyone else.
She straightened her back, drawing a circle in the air with her finger. A trail of glowing green light followed her motion, forming a shimmering magical screen before her.
She cradled the screen in her hands like a globe, her other hand gliding across its surface as she scrolled through its contents with deliberate focus.
"Just making sure it's working—don't want them worrying about when I'll be back," she murmured.
It might have looked like some sort of a portable gadget—concepts unheard of in the medieval fantasy world. But in a society where magic had advanced to fill the roles of technology, what seemed impossible elsewhere was simply routine here.
With a few taps on the glowing surface, a soft tinkling sound chimed. Lea exhaled in relief, closing her eyes briefly as the screen dissolved from her hands, the green light fading into nothingness.
Lea leaned back, letting her body relax against the hard wooden planks of the carriage. The oppressive humidity clung to her skin, but for now, she allowed herself a moment of rest. At least the journey home offered a chance for some peace. She had no immediate worries—yet.
Though she'd fulfilled her grandmother's request by retrieving Luke, her task wasn't over. She still had to ensure he arrived safely. Escorting him was proving to be more challenging than she'd anticipated.
'I really need a bath...' she thought wistfully, the thought of cool water soothing her tired body.
The air shimmered with heat, and a faint, hot breeze did little to offer relief. The sun glared overhead, its light bouncing off the dust rising from the carriage wheels. The rhythmic clatter of hooves echoed behind them, gradually growing louder. Lea frowned and glanced over her shoulder just as a cloud of dust materialized in the distance.
Moments later, two horses burst through the haze, their riders cloaked in black hooded robes. Each rider maneuvered their mount with practiced ease, splitting off to flank the carriage. Their identities were shrouded in mystery, their faces obscured by their hoods.
The rider on the left surged ahead, his horse pulling alongside the carriage driver. He turned his head, locking eyes with the driver for a moment. Then, with a swift motion, he raised his hand. A glowing purple magic circle formed before him.
"Sagitta Penetrans," he intoned, his voice cold and deliberate.
A sharp, glowing bolt shot from the circle, piercing straight through the driver's chest. The man gasped, his body convulsing before he toppled from his seat. The carriage jolted violently as the wheels rolled over his lifeless body.
Lea, startled by the sudden lurch, gripped the edge of her seat. "What the—?" she muttered, her heart pounding as she peeked through the curtain. Her stomach churned at the sight of the driver's crumpled, bloodied form lying motionless on the dusty road.
Before she could process what had happened, the rider on the left galloped ahead, positioning his horse in front of the carriage. He yanked the reins, forcing the carriage horse to slow. The animal neighed in protest but gradually came to a stop.
Lea quickly withdrew back into the carriage, her mind racing. A shadow flickered in her peripheral vision. One of the riders was circling the carriage, his movements methodical and deliberate.
Her heart clenched as she instinctively clutched at her chest, trying to steady her breathing.
"Are you sure this is the right carriage?" one of the riders asked, his voice low and gravelly.
"There's no mistake," the other replied.
"Let's check the back to confirm."
Hearing their conversation, a chill ran down Lea's spine. These people weren't just after the carriage—they were hunting someone. Their ruthless actions, like killing the driver without hesitation, made their sinister intentions painfully clear.
Who are they? The question echoed in her mind, tangled with growing fear and unease.
One of the riders leisurely approached the back of the carriage, their silhouette casting a foreboding shadow as it drew closer. The slow, deliberate pace sent a shiver through Lea, but her instincts flared to life, demanding she act.
Fear gnawed at her, but the urge to defend herself overpowered her hesitation.
The rider paused at the rear of the carriage, standing ominously still. For a moment, it seemed like they were merely observing, but the subtle movement of their shadow betrayed their intent. The silhouette shifted, revealing the rider reaching for something at their waist—a sword.
With a sudden, fluid motion, the blade flashed, tearing through the fabric covering the back of the carriage.
Strips of cloth fluttered into the air, scattering like falling leaves. But the rider wasn't prepared for what waited inside.
Lea knelt on the wooden planks, both hands thrust forward, her expression focused and unwavering.
A glowing green magical circle had already formed in front of her, its light casting sharp shadows in the confined space.
"Vayrenth!" she shouted, unleashing a powerful gust of piercing wind magic.
The blast roared toward the rider, tearing through the air with a sharp whistle. Their reaction was almost instantaneous.
With remarkable agility, they flipped backward, narrowly evading the attack. The wind magic struck the ground instead, kicking up a dense cloud of dust.
The riders landed with practiced grace, their boots skidding slightly in the dirt as the mist settled around them. But Lea wasn't about to let her guard down. Her heart pounded, her mind racing as she prepared for whatever came next.
"Interesting," one of the riders remarked coldly, his voice laced with a hint of amusement.
"I didn't expect that. That power—that was close. You nearly hit me right in the head. But don't think I'll let you land a blow like that again."
The second rider smirked. "Well, considering your head's already bald, Garrick, there's really nothing to hit, is there?"
"Shut up," Garrick snapped, his tone sharp with irritation. "Your sarcasm is starting to get on my nerves."
Their conversation was abruptly cut short as Lea launched a second attack, her voice ringing out with authority. "Fulmina Astra!" she shouted, unleashing a crackling surge of purple lightning magic.
The bolts streaked toward the riders, forcing them to leap away from their horses and retreat to a safer distance. Dust and sparks scattered in the wake of the attack, and while their reactions weren't unexpected, there was a flicker of exhilaration in their movements.
Lea fixed her gaze on them, her hands trembling slightly, though she forced herself to remain composed. Her legs felt weak, but she held her ground, her eyes sharp with resolve.
"Who are you? Do you have any idea who you're dealing with?" she demanded, her tone carrying a noble authority that, while practiced, didn't fully mask the quaver of uncertainty in her voice.
One of the riders, Garrick, smirked coldly. "Quite the demanding little girl, aren't you?" His tone was laced with intimidation. "But it doesn't matter. None of this does—because you're going to die anyway."
Lea's expression faltered, a flicker of concern betraying her efforts to appear unshaken.
"Now, now," Garrick's companion interjected smoothly, stepping beside him. "Let's not terrify the daughter of the Vitalis Faction too much, Garrick. We don't want to get ahead of ourselves—after all, there's still the main event to consider."
Garrick's sinister grin widened. "She's already more reactive than we expected. This should be fun."
"What did you expect?" his companion replied, his tone almost casual. "She's a mage from Veritas Aurea Academy—the elite school for this kingdom's prodigies. Of course, she wouldn't be a pushover."
"Even better," Garrick said, his smile twisting with malice. "Makes this stupid contract all the more entertaining."
Contract? Lea's heart raced as the word echoed in her mind. Are they mercenaries?
Her expression tightened, uncertainty flashing across her face.
Adventurers were a common sight—ordinary people who took on dangerous jobs in exchange for high rewards. But mercenaries were a different breed. They operated in the shadows, their contracts steeped in blood and deceit. Assassinations, kidnappings, and other unsavory tasks made up their bread and butter.
If these men were mercenaries, Lea knew she was in far greater danger than she'd first thought.
"I'll formally introduce myself before we proceed any further," Garrick's companion said smoothly, his tone dripping with mock civility.
"My name is Theron Veynar. And this," he gestured toward his partner, "is my esteemed associate, Garrick Droswen."
"Did you really have to include my last name?" Garrick grumbled, shooting Theron a sharp glare.
"It's all part of the presentation," Theron replied with a sly smirk, completely unfazed by Garrick's irritation.
Their intentions were clear—it was business, and their target was unmistakable. If they were truly mercenaries, their contract was none other than the assassination of Lea Healen, the so-called daughter of the Vitalis Faction.
Despite the weight of her fears and the uncertainty clouding her thoughts, Lea refused to falter. She leapt down from the carriage, her knees hitting the ground as she pressed both hands firmly into the dirt. A faint yellow glow erupted beneath her palms, a magic circle taking shape with intricate, pulsing patterns.
"I won't let you kill me!" she shouted, her voice ringing with defiance.
Springing to her feet, Lea swiftly crossed her arms in an X-motion, channeling her power. A rectangular, fluorescent barrier formed on either side of her, rippling with energy. With a forceful thrust of her arms, she propelled the glowing walls forward, the barriers expanding into a brick-like construct that surged toward her attackers.
"Aureum!" she yelled, her voice carrying the authority of her lineage.
Aureum was no ordinary magic—it was ancient, exclusive, and deeply revered. Created long ago by the Healen family, it had since become the signature magic of the Vitalis Faction. The spell summoned a radiant yellow barrier that not only trapped its targets within a confined domain but also granted the caster total control over everything inside. Both defensive and offensive, it was a spell of unparalleled versatility, feared by enemies and respected by allies.
The origins of Aureum were steeped in mystery. It was said to have been conceived by an unknown prodigy from a fallen kingdom, whose name and homeland were lost to history. This anonymity only deepened its mystique, leaving the magic's roots cloaked in legend. The Healen family, however, had preserved and perfected the spell over generations, safeguarding it as a precious legacy before introducing it to the Vitalis Faction.
As the barrier surged toward them, Theron narrowed his eyes, his focus sharp. With a swift motion, he reached for the remnants of the horses' reins, causing them to neigh in distress before being drawn into a swirling black orb. The orb rapidly sped toward his hands and absorbed the horses in an instant.
Lea turned her head in surprise. "A familiar spell?" she muttered, bewildered by his control over the magic.
Theron stood his ground, pointing a finger toward the approaching barrier. Calm and unflinching, he waited until the barrier was just a meter away. Then, with a focused chant, he whispered, "Nox Obscura."
A black arrow formed on his finger, sharp and ominous. In a split second, it shot forward, piercing through the barrier with a crack like shattered glass, breaking it apart instantly.
Lea's renowned, exclusive spell—one passed down through generations of her family—was shattered into pieces by a mercenary. The very power she had relied on was crumbling before her eyes. Even she, a seasoned mage, stood in stunned disbelief.
"N-No way..." she whispered, her voice heavy with disbelief and despair.
"Hey, Theron, we need those horses back," Garrick grumbled, eyeing his companion. "I don't feel like walking back after all this."
"Don't worry. I'll summon another familiar after we're done here," Theron replied with a sly, cold smile.
Lea stood frozen, her mind a whirlwind of confusion. Her last line of defense had failed, leaving her with nothing. The realization hit hard—her trump card was useless.
"Don't be so surprised, young lady," Theron taunted, his voice dripping with amusement. "It was just a spell. Could've been a fluke."
But Lea remained paralyzed, still unable to comprehend the turn of events. Her body shook as she instinctively took a defensive stance, fists clenched tight, but fear gnawed at her resolve.
"This is getting boring..." Garrick complained, drawing his sword with a sinister grin. "Let's have some fun."
The two mercenaries moved with a chilling sense of purpose. Their intention to kill Lea was no longer veiled, their dark smiles casting long shadows in the oppressive air.
Lea, gritting her teeth, stared at them through narrowed eyes, her fists still clenched. Fear twisted in her gut, but she refused to back down. Could she fight them? Could she even survive this? It felt like the end.
Just then, a loud yawn broke the tension.
Luke, still half-asleep, sat up in the back of the carriage, rubbing his eyes. "So noisy! Didn't I tell you to wake me up when we arrived?" he muttered, clearly irritated—completely unaware of the life-and-death standoff unfolding before him.
Lea glanced back at him, her expression unchanged. But for the first time, she didn't feel so alone. Maybe, just maybe, the odds had shifted.
"Huh? Who are those two punks?" Luke asked, squinting in their direction. "And why are you standing there looking like a ghost? You'll get a heatstroke standing out in the sun like that—unless you're trying to get a tan."
Garrick narrowed his eyes, "Who's that?"
"I don't have any idea who that might be," Theron replied, also sizing Luke up with growing curiosity.
At that moment, Lea wasn't facing these mercenaries alone. The tension in the air was still thick, but now there was a glimmer of hope.
At least she thought so...