The first arrow came from the left — Caleb's shot, meant to warn — but it landed inches from a mercenary's throat. The clearing erupted.
Mercenaries surged forward in black waves, their crimson sigils flashing under moonlight. Dark Elves struck from the opposite treeline, unwilling to let Vaeryn's hired killers claim their prey.
"Hold the center!" Eliakim's voice cut through the din, his chain snapping around an enemy spear and yanking its wielder into Skyling's diving talons.
Ezra's hands flared with unstable light, her magic already spiraling too high. "Get down!" she shouted, unleashing a searing column of blue fire that chewed a crater into the clearing — and nearly burned Caleb's quiver in half.
"Ezra!" Eliakim roared."Then don't stand so close!" she snapped, already pulling another incantation from the volatile depths of her mind.
Through the chaos, Gideon's world slowed.Kaelvryn… I need more.
Her voice coiled in his mind like molten ice.Then take it. Coldest Fire. Hottest Ice. Let them see both ends of the same blade.
His twin swords flared — one burning with frost so pure it steamed, the other igniting with fire so cold it shimmered pale blue. He stepped into the melee, the two elements singing against each other with every strike.
A mercenary lunged — frost blade severed his guard, fire blade cut through the armor before it even cooled.A Dark Elf spun in for a killing thrust — Gideon's parry froze the steel mid-swing, the follow-up slash exploding it into shards.
Ezra's magic detonated again, forcing friend and foe alike to dive for cover. Gideon didn't flinch — he wove through it, his blades carving through smoke and lightning like he was born to this storm.
Vaeryn moved at the edge of the chaos, neither striking them down nor helping them outright. But when a Dark Elf sniper lined his bow toward Eliakim's spine, Vaeryn's dagger found the archer's heart first.
The triple-agent's eyes met Eliakim's across the chaos — unreadable, sharp, waiting.
Skyling's voice cut in, fierce and urgent:—Eliakim. New heat signatures to the east. Not mercenaries. Not Elves. Something else.
The Codex map in Eliakim's mind flickered — a third wave approaching, silent and fast.
The fight they thought was the trap… might itself be bait for something worse.