The wind was sharp, biting into Michael's skin as he stood at the edge of the camp. His bag was packed, his weapons secured, and his mind raced. Almost a year had passed since his breakthrough to level 3 in his cultivation, and the confidence that came with it had become a solid foundation beneath the weight of his duties. He was no longer the uncertain soldier that had first arrived at Halford—no, now he was a leader, responsible not only for his squad but for the lives of everyone in the kingdom. But today, as he prepared to leave, the weight felt heavier than ever.
"Michael, you sure about this?" Garren's voice cut through the tension. The older knight stood at the edge of the camp, his arms crossed, a deep frown on his face.
Michael nodded without hesitation. "I don't have a choice, sir."
The mission was clear, if not deadly: infiltrate the enemy faction responsible for the assassinations of Halford's mission participants, including several squad leaders. His orders came straight from the higher-ups, and his reasoning for accepting them was simple. They were right: this threat needed to be neutralized before it spiraled out of control. But deep down, Michael wondered if there was more to it—if this mission was, perhaps, a way to eliminate a rising threat to the upper echelons of power. A simple way to ignite a dying flame of morale among the masses by making an example out of him.
"Don't do anything stupid," Garren's voice cracked with something that wasn't just authority. "I'll be honest with you, Michael. This war's become a goddamn stalemate. It's eating us all up. People are starving, taxes are sky-high, and the rebels... they're just waiting for the right moment to strike. If something happens to you, it'll break what little hope we've got left."
Michael met Garren's gaze. "If I don't do this, it'll be even worse. I know what's at stake. I'll make it back."
The older knight's gaze softened, but there was something else—something in the silence between them, an unspoken understanding. "Just... don't make me bury another one of you, Michael. I've done it too many times already."
Michael didn't respond right away. He didn't need to. Garren knew the cost of war all too well. And so did he.
The journey began the next morning. Michael left the camp with only his closest gear and a map leading him to a remote settlement on the edge of the kingdom. The higher-ups had warned him about the dangers of his mission, but they had no choice but to send him alone. No squad, and no backup. His task was to gather intel, find out who was behind the recent killings, and, if possible, eliminate the threat. It wasn't a mission he'd ever wanted to take, but it was one he couldn't turn down.
As the days wore on, Michael found himself questioning his orders more and more. The mission seemed simple enough at first. A group targeting Halford's soldiers and mission participants. It should've been straightforward. But the closer he got, the more he began to sense the deeper currents beneath the surface—currents of political intrigue and corruption. It wasn't just about assassins anymore. There was something larger at play, something that had nothing to do with the Zeranthians.
He was getting too close.
One night, while camping in the woods, Michael finally allowed himself to stop and think about everything that had led him to this point. A year of missions, each more dangerous than the last. His squad had grown stronger, each member reaching new heights. Seren, Torva, Velara, Gregor, Kara—all of them had become formidable warriors in their own right. But it wasn't just their strength that made them irreplaceable. It was their bond. The way they relied on each other. The way Michael relied on them.
Velara...
He shook the thought from his head. It had been difficult to leave the squad behind, even though he had promised them he would return. Velara had been furious when she found out about the solo mission. It wasn't the first time she'd been upset with him, but this felt different. There was something in her eyes, something he couldn't quite understand. He didn't want to admit it to himself, but leaving her, leaving all of them had torn at something deep within him.
He reminded himself why he had to do this. The kingdom was on the brink of collapse. The war was dragging on, and if things didn't change soon, there would be no kingdom left to save.
But as the days stretched into weeks, Michael began to doubt. Maybe the higher-ups weren't as concerned about the kingdom's survival as they pretended to be. Maybe they just wanted a martyr—someone to spark the people's morale before everything truly fell apart. A high-profile death that could turn the tide in their favor.
It was then that Michael started to understand just how expendable he was.
By the time he reached the settlement, the once-quiet outpost had turned into a fortress of whispers and shadow. Something was wrong. The locals barely met his eyes, and the air was thick with the sense of something just out of reach. Michael moved cautiously through the town, gathering the bits of information he could. Every piece of intel pointed toward a larger conspiracy, one that wasn't just aimed at the people of Halford, but at the heart of the kingdom itself.
He finally managed to track down the group responsible for the assassinations. They weren't just mercenaries. They were soldiers—trained, well-armed, and part of something bigger. Something that Michael couldn't fully comprehend yet, but knew he would soon.
Back at camp, the squad had gathered for their daily training when the news came. Michael had been out of contact for longer than expected, and there was no word from him. Garren stood before the squad, his expression grim.
"He's been gone too long. We've lost contact."
Velara's fists clenched, her breath coming in short bursts. "Where the hell is he? What the hell's going on out there?"
Torval's steady presence didn't make the situation any better. "He can handle himself. We know that. But something's not right."
Garren met their gazes, his face hardening. "I won't sugarcoat it—something's wrong, and I think the mission's gone sideways. Michael may be facing something far more dangerous than we thought."
Velara looked at Garren, her usual fire replaced by something far more vulnerable. "We can't just sit here and wait for him to die."
"We wait," Garren said sharply. "We wait, and we pray. That's all we can do for now."
Back in the settlement, Michael was cornered. He had uncovered the truth—something he never wanted to know. The assassins weren't just targeting mission personnel. They were targeting anyone who had been involved in Halford's rise. And as for the higher-ups? They weren't innocent. There was a larger plot at play, one that threatened not just Michael's life, but the entire kingdom's future.
As the sun began to set, Michael's heart pounded in his chest. He was not alone. Shadows shifted, and he realized too late that he had been led right into an ambush.
But he wouldn't die easily. Not today.