The woman's eyes darted across the yard, scanning for any sign of danger. She was sharp—Aran had to give her that. She didn't panic, didn't shout orders at the thugs still working on unloading the crates. Instead, she raised a hand, a quiet gesture that made all movement cease. The men stood still, eyes wide, unsure of what had set her off but obedient nonetheless.
Aran remained perfectly still, hidden behind the crumbling barrels, watching. He needed to know how she operated. This wasn't about brute force, at least not for him. Understanding your enemy was far more effective than a frontal assault. Every hesitation, every subtle move she made told him volumes about her instincts, her thought process. She was methodical, cautious—but she was also confident that no one could touch her here. That could be her weakness.
Kira's voice came through his earpiece again, low and controlled. "We're in position. No sign that she's caught wind of us."
Aran clicked his earpiece once, signaling her to hold. The woman, however powerful she was, still hadn't noticed the Truth Order's operatives closing in on her. But Aran knew that it wasn't just about her; it was about whatever was in those crates. He needed more information.
The crates themselves were large, bulky, and covered in intricate runes. From Aran's angle, he could see the glow of magic faintly shimmering around them, a sure sign of something important. It wasn't just ordinary magical artifacts inside—no, this was something far more dangerous. He could feel it, a deep, pulsating energy that seemed to resonate with the air around them.
Aran considered his next move carefully. They could hit the woman now, overwhelm her with numbers, but that would be too easy. He needed her to make the first mistake. He needed to push her just enough to see how far her defenses went. That's when the plan began to form in his mind—something unconventional, something risky.
He clicked the earpiece again, signaling to Kira. "On my mark, make a small disturbance near the north gate. Nothing too large—just enough to catch her attention."
"Copy that," Kira replied, her tone sharp.
A few minutes later, there was a faint explosion near the north entrance of the brewery, barely enough to shake the ground but enough to be noticed. The robed woman's head snapped in the direction of the sound, her fingers twitching as she muttered something under her breath. Aran's sharp eyes caught a brief shimmer in the air as a magical barrier surrounded the crates, almost instinctively.
Perfect, Aran thought. She was more concerned about the cargo than herself.
The woman waved one of the thugs over and whispered something to him. He nodded and sprinted off toward the north gate, a small contingent of men following in his wake. The woman stood still for a moment, her eyes narrowing. Aran could almost hear her thinking, weighing the situation. She didn't want to leave the crates unguarded, but something about the explosion had made her wary.
Aran smiled under his hood. She was exactly where he wanted her.
With a subtle hand gesture, he signaled the next phase of the plan. Kira and her team began moving silently into position, surrounding the woman from all sides but staying just out of sight. Aran's heart raced as he watched the woman's every move. She was powerful, yes, but she wasn't invincible.
As the seconds ticked by, the tension in the air grew thicker. The woman's impatience showed in the small way her fingers twitched by her side. Aran saw it—a moment of vulnerability. She was beginning to feel the pressure, the unseen force closing in around her. She could sense that something wasn't right.
That's when Aran made his move.
With a quick, silent signal, Kira's team sprang into action. They didn't attack directly. Instead, they triggered a series of distractions around the yard—small bursts of smoke, clattering sounds, and fleeting shadows that danced in the corners of the woman's vision. It was enough to unsettle her, to make her feel surrounded. Her head snapped from one side to the other, eyes wide as she struggled to pinpoint where the attacks were coming from.
"Show yourselves!" she shouted, her voice sharp and commanding. But no one answered. Only silence greeted her.
Aran moved swiftly, blending into the shadows as he positioned himself closer to the crates. He needed to see what was inside, to confirm his suspicions. With the woman's attention divided, this was his best chance.
Kira's voice crackled in his earpiece again. "Do we engage?"
"Not yet," Aran whispered back. "Keep the pressure on. I'm going for the crates."
The woman's frustration grew as more distractions erupted around her. She extended her hand, muttering incantations under her breath, and a wave of magical energy rippled through the yard. But it was unfocused, a wild attempt to flush out an enemy she couldn't see. Aran used the chaos to slip past her unnoticed, his eyes locked on the largest crate at the center of the yard.
The runes on the crate pulsed with a dull red light, and the closer Aran got, the more he could feel the raw power emanating from it. His fingers traced the runes for a moment before he reached into his cloak and pulled out a small tool—a specially crafted magical disruptor, something he had developed for situations just like this.
Carefully, Aran pressed the disruptor against the side of the crate. The runes flickered, their glow dimming slightly. The barrier protecting the crate faltered for just a moment—long enough for Aran to pry the lid open.
What he saw inside made his breath catch.
The crate was filled with strange, crystalline objects—each one humming with a power unlike anything Aran had ever encountered. They weren't weapons or supplies. These were raw, unrefined shards of magical energy, harvested from some unknown source. They were volatile, dangerous, and in the wrong hands, they could be used to fuel unimaginable destruction.
Aran's mind raced. Rook wasn't just moving magical artifacts—he was stockpiling a power source. One that could shift the balance of control in the city. And the woman? She was the key to it all.
Just as Aran was about to replace the lid, he felt a sudden shift in the air. The woman had stopped her wild attacks. Her eyes were focused, piercing through the yard with deadly intent. She knew something was wrong, and now she was looking directly in Aran's direction.
"Enough games," she hissed, her voice dripping with malice. "Come out, or I'll tear this place apart."
Aran's heart pounded in his chest. The moment had arrived, and there was no turning back.