Oliver didn't rush into pursuit right away. Instead, he leaped back, eyes sharp, instinctively sensing danger. Shawn had dodged his initial strike, and there was something off about the ground now. It had turned to a sticky, dark pool of mud beneath his feet.
Had Shawn done this? Oliver wasn't sure, his experience with magic was limited. He couldn't tell if the muddy terrain was the result of a spell or simply Shawn's natural blessing, but either way, it was bad news.
"Are you alright?" Shawn called out, jogging over, his brow furrowed in concern. "I didn't expect you to get cornered in close combat like that."
Zachary, wiping the blood from the corner of his mouth, offered a wry smile. "I underestimated him. This kid with the bow turned out to be a lot stronger than I thought."
Shawn smirked, the faintest hint of amusement in his eyes. "You always do this. Ready to finish it?"
Zachary nodded, his body language shifting, focusing. An invisible wind began to swirl around him, and Oliver noticed the change in the air; wind magic. It wrapped around Zachary like a protective shield, boosting his speed and power.
Oliver's gaze flicked to Shawn. A thin layer of mud had started to creep up his skin, confirming Oliver's earlier suspicion, the mud wasn't just some coincidence. It was Shawn's magic, but how far could he control it?
With his backhand, Oliver grasped the second and last dagger, his grip tightening. He had to be cautious now. The playful exchange was over. He hadn't gathered enough intel, and from the looks on their faces, neither of his opponents was holding back anymore.
"Huh," he exhaled softly, eyes darting between Shawn and Zachary, every muscle tense, ready for whatever came next.
Zachary wasted no time. He launched forward, his body low, closing the distance between them with terrifying speed. His left hand flicked up, the hilt of his dagger striking his right hand's blade, like a sculptor hammering a chisel; precise, deliberate. But this was no artistic endeavor. He was aiming low, the blade destined for Oliver's thigh.
But Oliver was ready. With a sharp push from his ankle, he leapt straight into the air, landing briefly on Zachary's hand before propelling himself higher. It wasn't just about avoiding Zachary's strike; it was also to put some distance between him and the danger looming behind.
As Zachary's feet hit the softened ground beneath him, preventing a harsh landing, Shawn swung his heavy sword, the blade slicing through the air with lethal intent. But Oliver, always a step ahead, had anticipated the attack and jumped just high enough to evade it.
Zachary, quick to recover, rolled to the side, avoiding Shawn's powerful blow. He got to his feet swiftly, a grin tugging at his lips. "Impressive, kid. Seems the rumors were true. You're keeping an eye on the whole battlefield, not just what's right in front of you."
Oliver didn't respond. His mind was already working on his next move.
"This time, I'll go first," Shawn announced, already in motion. He lifted his heavy sword, charging toward Oliver, his steps heavy and deliberate. He closed the gap quickly, and just as he was about to strike, his left foot slammed into the roof. The force cracked the tiles beneath, halting his momentum as he swung the sword down like a club.
But Oliver didn't leap away this time. Instead, he crouched low, avoiding the downward swing. Behind him, he could hear Zachary approaching fast, his blade flashing as it aimed for his shoulder. Jumping now would only bring him closer to the strike.
With both hands on the ground, Oliver pivoted, rolling left just as Zachary's dagger sliced through the air where he had been.
Zachary, missing his mark, wasn't about to give up. He pressed forward, determined to keep Oliver on the defensive. Shawn turned to follow, but in his haste, something caught his foot. His body jerked forward awkwardly, and he stumbled, eyes wide with confusion.
It was Oliver's dagger.
In the chaos of the fight, when Oliver had crouched low to avoid the attack, he had discreetly tossed his dagger into Shawn's path. The timing was perfect. Shawn's own momentum tripped him, slowing his pursuit and giving Oliver a precious few moments to breathe.
Now on the defensive but still very much in control, Oliver straightened up, his eyes gleaming. He had disrupted their rhythm. His opponents might be powerful, but Oliver was proving to be far more unpredictable than they had expected.
The moment presented itself, and Oliver didn't hesitate. He rose to his feet, weaponless but determined. His sharp eyes focused on Zachary, noting the dagger gripped in his right hand and the second blade hidden behind his back. He anticipated Zachary's next move; an initial attack with the right hand, followed quickly by a swing from the left.
Oliver calculated his response in a flash. As Zachary lunged, Oliver snatched his right wrist with his left hand, forcing it downward in one smooth motion. At the same time, he thrust his clenched right hand upward, letting Zachary's forearm slam into his own, blocking the incoming blow. With a swift pivot, Oliver grabbed Zachary's elbow and yanked backward, sending him off balance.
Zachary tumbled forward, crashing face-first toward the ground. Oliver didn't waste a second; he brought his right foot up, aiming a precise kick to Zachary's unprotected chest, the tip of his toes driving into his target with force.
This sequence of moves would have been impossible in a normal fight, given the speed and aggression of Zachary and Shawn's attacks. But luck was on Oliver's side; Shawn had been tripped earlier by his well-placed dagger, giving him the opening he needed.
Zachary, momentarily disoriented, was now at Oliver's mercy. Seizing the advantage, Oliver grabbed Zachary by his right arm, bracing his foot on the ground. With a swift pivot, he spun in place, dragging Zachary through the air like a human compass. Round and round they went, until Oliver faced Shawn again.
With a sharp release, Oliver flung Zachary through the air, sending him hurtling toward Shawn.
Shawn's eyes widened in surprise. He had no choice but to abandon his heavy sword and extend his arms to catch his airborne companion. The two collided, and in that brief moment of chaos, Oliver was already on the move.
His feet hit the ground, and he bolted. This rooftop was no longer a safe haven. If Shawn and Zachary had found him, it meant others might be close behind. Staying to fight was no longer an option. He had to escape, and quickly.
Relying on his memory, Oliver sprinted toward one of the gates. As he approached, an adventurer stationed nearby spotted him and shouted, "You're not allowed to leave now! Return to your room, or help deal with the intruders!"
The irony wasn't lost on Oliver. He was the intruder.
Ignoring the guard's warning, he picked up his pace. But something was off. The archers began to ready their longbows, the mages lifted their staffs, and the warriors raised their swords. Yet none of them seemed to notice the small silver bird soaring through the air, heading straight for them.
The bird was no ordinary creature. It was a magical construct, designed to manipulate light. It landed just outside the magic barrier, its silvery feathers glowing brighter and brighter, until it blazed like a miniature sun. The soldiers shielded their eyes, momentarily blinded by the sudden burst of light.
Oliver knew the magic's limitations, the brighter the bird shone, the faster it would burn out. It was a trick he couldn't use often, as it drained his magic reserves with no chance of recovery. But in moments like this, it was worth the cost.
The intense brightness was enough. Oliver, already tense from the adrenaline of the chase, blinked through the temporary pain in his eyes and slipped past the confused adventurers. They were too disoriented to notice him disappearing into the night.
He exhaled sharply as he crossed beyond the white walls of the compound, slipping into the shadows of the narrow path beyond. The air was thick with tension, but he had made it. Though his vision still stung from the light, his escape had been a success.
Reflecting as he moved, Oliver acknowledged that while this mission hadn't yielded a major victory, it wasn't a total failure either. He had gathered vital information.
First, about Zachary and Shawn, two senior students sent to retrieve him. The Principal had sent them, which puzzled Oliver. The Principal despised the Black Crows, so why would he send these two if they were operating under Black Crow influence? The academy's intentions were unclear, but something didn't add up.
As he processed the jumble of thoughts, Oliver dusted off his clothes, his mind racing with questions. The road ahead was far from certain, but for now, he had escaped. And that, at least, was a small victory in itself.