The dusty road stretched ahead, weaving through the dense forest as though daring them deeper into its shadowed embrace. The scent of pine hung heavy in the air, mingling with the earth's damp musk. Michael's squad moved cautiously, their steps soft and deliberate. The mission was straightforward—intercept an enemy caravan ferrying vital supplies. But the oppressive silence around them hinted at complications that words could not convey.
Michael's senses prickled, his every instinct honed from years of training. Though the forest stood seemingly still, the life within whispered secrets to him—roots quivered unnaturally, and the faint tremors of displaced soil betrayed unseen movements.
Velara matched his stride at his flank, her fiery orange eyes scanning the treetops with restless energy. A faint heat radiated from her as flames flickered idly around her fingertips. She clenched her fists, snuffing them out for a moment before muttering under her breath, "Something's not right."
"Quiet," Michael murmured, his voice low but commanding. He raised a hand in a subtle gesture—stay sharp, stay calm.
Through his Verdant Sensory ability, Michael reached deeper into the earth's heartbeat, attuning himself to its rhythms. He felt them—five shadowed presences gliding through the trees like specters.
They're here.
The attack came swift and ruthless. Five cloaked figures emerged from the treeline, their forms a blur of deadly motion. Long, curved blades caught the faint sunlight as the assassins surged forward, aiming to cripple their prey before resistance could form.
"Form up!" Michael bellowed, his voice cutting through the chaos. His squad snapped into position like a well-oiled machine.
The first assassin lunged at him, but the Verdant Blade leaped to life in Michael's hand—a shimmering weapon of living wood. It extended into a whip-like tendril, lashing out and wrapping around the attacker's blade. Michael disarmed his opponent with a sharp tug, following up with a crushing kick to their chest.
Velara's fiery temper ignited, her lips curling into a feral grin. "Time to burn!" she snarled, her palms erupting into a torrent of flames. The closest assassin veered toward her, but Velara hurled a stream of fire that engulfed him mid-stride. His screams echoed as the fire consumed him, the inferno searing through even the dense forest air.
Another assassin closed in on Torval, the squad's stalwart knight. With his massive shield raised, Torval caught the enemy's blade in a deafening clash of steel. "Not today!" he roared, driving the assassin back with a calculated bash before countering with a brutal upward slash of his sword.
Kara, ever watchful, held her position in the center. Her water magic glowed faintly around her hands as she scanned the battlefield. "Keep close if you're injured!" she called, her voice calm and unwavering. When a dagger-wielding assassin darted toward her, she unleashed a torrent of pressurized water, sending her attacker hurtling into a tree. The impact was lethal.
From the treetops, Seren perched with the grace of a hawk. Her bow nocked with a gleaming arrow of wind magic, she exhaled slowly and let it fly. The arrow whistled through the air, piercing one assassin's thigh and pinning him to the ground. Seren didn't wait for a response; her next shot followed in rapid succession, aimed at his throat.
"Keep them disoriented!" Michael barked. His blade shifted form, transforming into a spear that he drove into the ground. The surrounding roots answered his call, snaking upward to ensnare two of the assassins.
Gregor stood his ground near Kara, his hands glowing with earthen might. "Let's see how you like this!" he shouted, slamming his fists into the soil. Spikes of rock erupted beneath one assassin, impaling them instantly, while a second attacker was thrown off balance. "Stay down!" Gregor growled, pulling the earth itself to drag the struggling figure back into his grasp.
Michael moved with lethal precision, his Verdant Blade fluidly shifting between forms to counter every strike. One assassin's blade met his, only to be parried and followed by a precise sweep of Michael's whip-form blade that wrapped around the assassin's neck. With a sharp pull, Michael ended the fight.
"Velara!" Michael shouted as the final two assassins regrouped for a counterattack.
Velara's fiery temper flared to its peak. "Get clear!" she warned, her voice searing with intensity. Flames surged and coalesced into a massive orb of fire that hovered above her palms. She hurled it with a furious cry, and the fireball exploded on impact, its shockwave flattening the surrounding foliage. The assassins' screams were swallowed by the roar of the inferno, leaving only scorched ground and silence in its wake.
The squad stood amidst the wreckage, their breaths ragged. Seren leaped down from her perch, her bow slung across her back. "All clear," she said, scanning the charred battlefield.
Michael turned to his squad, his sharp eyes assessing each of them. "Everyone accounted for?"
"Barely," Torval admitted, his shield resting against the ground as he caught his breath.
"Mana's running low," Kara added, glancing toward Velara.
Velara wiped the sweat from her brow, her fiery grin undimmed. "Worth it," she said with a shrug.
Michael's jaw tightened. They were alive, but the mission wasn't over. They had barely survived the ambush, and the thought of taking on the caravan with diminished resources weighed heavily on him.
He looked at his team—tired, battered, but resolute. "We have two choices," he said. "Regroup and risk losing the caravan, or press on and finish this. Either way, it's my call."
Seren stepped forward. "We follow you, Michael."
Torval nodded, gripping his blade. "Lead the way."
Velara smirked. "Still got enough fire to make them regret showing up."
Kara placed a hand on Michael's shoulder. "We'll make it work."
Gregor cracked his knuckles. "They won't know what hit them."
Michael felt their trust bolster his own resolve. "Then we move," he said. "Stay sharp. This isn't over."
As they pressed on, the weight of leadership bore down on Michael. The assassins had been a warning—their enemies wouldn't stop until they were all dead. But with his squad behind him, he knew they could face whatever came next. Together, they would not falter.