The War Begins
Jarek didn't sleep that night.
The assassination attempt changed everything.
Caden was dangerous, but he wasn't the only enemy. Someone else had sent those killers, and that meant their problems were bigger than they thought.
But one thing was clear—they couldn't afford to wait.
Standing in the Rustyard's war room, Jarek stared at the map before him. Cassian had drawn it out in bold red ink, marking Caden's strongholds, safe houses, and key routes.
"This one," Jarek said, pointing at a large warehouse near the docks. "That's where we strike first."
Cassian nodded. "Smart choice. That's where Caden keeps his shipments—gold, weapons, everything. If we take it, we cut off his supply line."
Bran folded his arms. "And if we fail, we'll be on the run."
Jarek smirked. "We won't fail."
Sylva sighed. "You always say that."
Jarek chuckled. "And I'm always right."
Tobias muttered, "That's debatable."
Regardless, the decision was made.
They were going to hit Caden before he hit them.
The Assault on the Warehouse
Hours later, the team moved out.
A group of twenty fighters, all clad in dark clothing, crept through the streets. The docks were quiet at this hour, the warehouses mostly empty except for a few night workers.
Cassian led them down a back alley, stopping near the warehouse entrance.
"Guards inside," he whispered. "Four at the door, more inside."
Jarek grinned. "Easy enough."
Sylva rolled her eyes. "You always say that, too."
Tobias flexed his fingers. "So… we going loud or quiet?"
Jarek unsheathed his dagger. "We start quiet. But if things go wrong… we adapt."
Bran sighed. "Things always go wrong."
The Infiltration
Sylva moved first, slipping through the shadows.
The first guard barely had time to react before her blade slid across his throat. She caught him before he fell, easing him down silently.
Cassian took the next. A swift dagger between the ribs—no sound, just a quick gasp before the body hit the ground.
Jarek and Tobias handled the last two together, each choking a guard into unconsciousness before dragging them into the shadows.
Jarek exhaled. "Phase one done."
Tobias smirked. "Now for the fun part."
Jarek pushed the door open. Time to take Caden's warehouse.
Chaos Erupts
They moved fast.
Inside, ten guards patrolled the rows of crates, unaware of the silent invaders creeping through the shadows.
Jarek spotted a lone sentry standing near a stack of barrels. He moved quickly, clamping a hand over the man's mouth and driving his dagger deep.
The guard slumped without a sound.
But then—
A crash.
One of their men knocked over a crate.
The sound echoed through the warehouse.
Every guard spun toward the noise.
Shit.
"Well," Tobias muttered. "So much for quiet."
The fight was on.
The Battle for the Warehouse
The first guard rushed forward, sword drawn, but Jarek was faster.
He sidestepped, slamming his elbow into the man's gut before burying his blade in his chest.
Sylva was already moving, her twin daggers slicing through the air, cutting down two opponents in a blink.
Cassian fought like a phantom, slipping between enemies, striking with precise, deadly blows.
Tobias?
He just punched a guy in the face so hard he collapsed.
"That's one down!" Tobias grinned.
Bran and the others clashed with the remaining guards, the sounds of steel ringing through the warehouse.
One enemy lunged at Jarek, slashing wildly.
Jarek ducked, grabbing a wooden crate and hurling it at his attacker.
The crate smashed into the man's head, knocking him out cold.
"That worked better than expected," Jarek muttered.
Sylva kicked an enemy aside. "Less talking, more killing!"
Victory, But at a Cost
The battle didn't last long.
Jarek's forces were too fast, too coordinated.
Within minutes, the warehouse belonged to them.
But not without losses.
Bran crouched beside one of their fallen men, his expression dark. "We lost three."
Jarek clenched his fists.
War wasn't clean.
Cassian exhaled. "At least we won."
Jarek nodded. "And now Caden has one less resource to rely on."
Sylva wiped blood from her blade. "He'll retaliate."
Jarek smiled grimly. "Let him try."
The Messenger
They were still securing the warehouse when a new threat arrived.
A lone figure walked through the doors—unarmed, but fearless.
A woman, clad in a red cloak, her silver eyes cold and calculating.
Sylva stiffened. "I know her."
Jarek raised an eyebrow. "Friend of yours?"
Sylva shook her head. "No. She works for someone worse than Caden."
The woman smiled. "A pleasure to finally meet you, Jarek Thorn."
Jarek frowned. "And you are?"
She tilted her head. "My name is Isolde. And I bring a message."
Jarek crossed his arms. "Let's hear it."
Isolde's smile never wavered.
"My employer wishes to meet you."
Jarek's gut tightened.
Another player. Another enemy.
Tobias groaned. "Why do we always attract the worst kinds of people?"
Jarek sighed.
Because that's how the game was played.
And whether he liked it or not… he was in it now.