The training yard buzzed with quiet anticipation as the mercenaries gathered around. Samson could feel the crisp night air against his skin, his ice magic already stirring at his fingertips. Across from him, Kieran rolled his shoulders, the shadows around him shifting like living things.
"You seem eager," Kieran remarked, twirling his shadow-formed spear between his fingers.
Samson smirked. "I need to test my limits. Besides, you're strong—I want to see how far I can go against you."
Kieran chuckled. "Alright then, no complaints when you hit the ground."
The two mercenaries watching from the sidelines—Sasha and Bjorn—exchanged glances.
"Think the kid has a shot?" Bjorn muttered.
Sasha crossed her arms. "Not if he relies only on brute force. Kieran's fast, and he's got way more combat experience."
A sharp whistle from the old man, watching from the porch, signaled the start of the duel.
Kieran wasted no time.
A flicker of movement—then he was gone. Samson's instincts screamed at him to move, and he barely managed to leap backward before a spear of darkness sliced through the spot he had just stood.
Kieran reappeared behind him, a smirk playing on his lips. "Too slow."
Samson gritted his teeth, summoning ice beneath his feet. The moment Kieran lunged again, Samson propelled himself sideways using an ice slide, skidding across the yard to create distance.
"Nice trick," Kieran admitted, dissolving his spear into misty tendrils. "But let's see if you can keep up."
He raised a hand, and the shadows on the ground twisted unnaturally.
Samson's body tensed as he felt the shift in the air. Then—shadows erupted from beneath him like grasping hands, reaching for his legs.
He reacted instinctively, slamming his palm to the ground. Ice exploded outward, freezing the tendrils solid before they could trap him.
Kieran's eyes gleamed. "Clever."
He vanished again, moving between patches of darkness with seamless precision. Samson barely had time to track him, let alone counter.
I can't win if I just defend.
He clenched his fists, gathering ice mana into his palms. If Kieran was going to use the shadows to his advantage, then Samson would change the battlefield.
With a deep breath, Samson slammed his foot into the ground. A wave of frost spread across the yard, coating the surface in a thin layer of ice.
Kieran reappeared, landing on the slick ice—and for the first time, his movement faltered.
Samson seized the opening.
He formed a spear of ice and hurled it. Kieran barely managed to dodge, but as he tried to counter, Samson stomped down, sending jagged spikes of ice shooting upward.
One of them grazed Kieran's arm, frost creeping up his sleeve.
Kieran cursed under his breath. "Damn. That was close."
The mercenaries watching murmured in approval.
"Not bad," Sasha admitted.
"Kid's adapting," Bjorn added.
Samson exhaled, feeling the toll of his magic. His mana reserves weren't deep—he couldn't afford to drag this out.
One decisive move.
He pressed his palms together, summoning all the cold air around him. His breath came out in misty puffs as ice crystals formed at his fingertips.
Kieran narrowed his eyes. "What are you—"
A blizzard erupted from Samson's hands.
The sudden gust of frozen wind blinded Kieran for a moment, frost clinging to his clothes. Samson surged forward, closing the gap.
This was his chance.
But Kieran grinned. "You're predictable, kid."
The moment Samson got close, Kieran twisted, dodging Samson's strike with ease. His shadow magic surged, forming twin daggers in his hands.
Then, before Samson could react, Kieran struck.
A sharp impact hit Samson's stomach—Kieran's knee.
The force knocked the breath out of him, and he staggered backward.
Kieran didn't follow up, simply twirling his daggers before dissolving them. "Good effort."
Samson panted, steadying himself. He was sore, exhausted—but exhilarated.
"Again," he muttered.
Kieran raised an eyebrow. "You sure? You look about done."
Samson wiped his mouth. "I need to know how much I can take."
Kieran's smirk returned. "Alright. Your funeral but think again because I still have Light magic in my arsenal."
"Sorry but I don't really care about that."
---
Unraveling the Clues
The duel had pushed Samson to his limits, but he felt satisfied. He now had a better understanding of his endurance—and how much he still had to improve.
Later that night, he sat in the mercenary hall, flipping through the report Avik had compiled.
Bjorn leaned over. "Find anything new?"
Samson tapped the note they had found on the dead man. "'Delivery failed. Too dangerous. Orders unclear.' What was he delivering?"
Bjorn frowned. "Could be anything. Contraband? Classified documents?"
Sasha, sitting across from them, spoke up. "We still don't know how he died. The strangulation marks were faint, meaning it might've been done with magic or a thin wire."
Samson glanced at the rusted key they had recovered. "And this? If we figure out what it opens, we might get some answers."
Bjorn grunted. "I'd bet it's for a storage unit or hidden compartment somewhere. The real question is: who wanted him dead?"
The room fell into silence.
Then, Samson's phone buzzed.
A message from Avik: "We found something. Meet me at the northern warehouse."
---
The Warehouse Investigation
The northern warehouse stood at the edge of the city, abandoned except for a few crates stacked along the walls. Avik was waiting outside, his arms crossed.
"Glad you made it," he greeted. "Follow me."
Inside, Avik led them to a wooden crate with a broken lock. "We were checking the area for signs of smuggling when we found this."
Samson peered inside. The crate was filled with sealed vials of a strange blue liquid.
Sasha picked one up, examining it against the dim light. "What is this?"
Avik's expression darkened. "That's what I was hoping you could tell me. Whatever it is, someone went to great lengths to hide it. And I have a feeling our dead man was involved."
Samson felt a chill—not from his ice magic, but from the implications.
"Then we need to find out where it came from."
---
A New Lead
Morning came with little rest. Samson, Sasha, and Kieran regrouped with the old man to report their findings.
The old man tapped a finger against the crate. "Vials of an unknown substance. A dead courier. And a message about a failed delivery. This is getting complicated."
Samson frowned. "We need to figure out who was expecting the delivery."
The old man nodded. "Leave that to me. In the meantime, you three keep your heads down. If someone killed this guy, they won't like us poking around."
Kieran smirked. "Oh? Sounds fun."
"And uh... could you please bring Rahul over hear. I might use some help of his." The old man asks to Kieran.
"Okkie doggie, boss." Kieran says by making a funny face.
"Oh for God's sake can you please stop this Kieran." Sasha says in genuine disgust.
"Ah... I know that you really missed it. Am I right....?" Kieran tries to embarrass her.
"Oh for God's sake just stop this shenanigans." Sasha tries to create distance from Kieran. Samson notices Sasha's face becomes a little red.