They rode through the capital gates as afternoon bled toward evening. Auryn's mare—the one who'd carried him through hell and back—moved steadily beneath him. Borin followed on a stockier mount built for dwarven weight.
The city streets gave way to forest. Ancient trees. Perfect terrain for ambush.
The sun hung low. Casting long shadows. Making the road ahead look like it stretched into darkness itself.
Somewhere on that road, Vaedon's trap waited.
A shadow passed overhead.
Auryn glanced up.
A hawk. Black feathers. Yellow eyes. Circling.
Vaedon's messenger.
Borin followed his gaze. "He knows we're coming."
"Good." Auryn's hands tightened on the reins. "Let him prepare."
The hawk banked. Flew east. Toward wherever the ambush waited.
The outer gates of Uruk fell behind them. The guards saluted. The road stretched ahead.
Auryn's dragon senses prickled. Enhanced hearing caught sounds that shouldn't be there.
Bird calls. Rhythm that felt just wrong.
Signals?
The wind shifted. Carrying scents of steel, oil, sweat and blood.
They're close.
"Borin."
"Aye, lad. I smell them too."
The dwarf's hand drifted to his axe. Ready to go when the need arises.
They rode deeper into the forest. Neither spoke. Just the sound of hooves on packed earth and the whisper of leaves.
Something broke the silence.
Twang.
---
Auryn's head snapped left.
He heard the sound before conscious thought registered. Bowstring releasing. An arrow cutting through the air.
"Move!" He threw himself right. Off the saddle.
The arrow screamed past. Where his chest was, a heartbeat ago.
Borin moved simultaneously. Dropped low against his horse's neck. Another arrow whistled past catching only air.
Auryn hit the ground and rolled to the side. His right hand firm on a sword he had strapped to his hip.
"AMBUSH!"
The forest erupted. Figures poured from the trees. Twelve. No—maybe more. He couldn't tell for now.
They wore mismatched armor with different weapons. Designed to look like bandits.
But Auryn's Author's Eyes activated automatically. Colors bloomed.
Most had yellow auras. Conflicted. Just mercenaries doing a job.
A few were orange. A new aura but the sensation he felt showed they enjoyed what they were doing.
And the last one was crimson with black veins threading through. An oppressive, predatory presence.
The leader.
He stepped from behind an oak tree. Tall, lean wearing simple leather armor. Twin blades on his back. Hands covered in violet flames.
Mage. Flame affinity. But what rank?
Auryn's mind raced. Weighing the situation and possible outcomes.
The assassin leader smiled. Handsome in a predatory way. "Prince Auryn. It's nothing personal, just business."
Auryn drew the sword on his hip. The unremarkable blade had a glint running across its surface.
He wore an expressionless visage as he spoke.
"Then let's get to work."
—-
The assassins charged. The quiet forest turned chaotic. Three assassins converged on Auryn.
This is just like Chapter 30. The raid scene. Except I'm not reading it. I'm living it.
The first assassin swung his sword high. A fully committed strike.
Auryn sidestepped. Let momentum carry the man past. Slashed at his exposed back diagonally. Steel bit through leather as blood sprayed.
The man stumbled forward. Wounded.
Second assassin didn't linger. He thrust his spear forward. Aiming low at Auryn's torso.
Dodge or block?
His mind couldn't decide so his Instinct chose. Auryn's body moved before his mind decided.
He parried down. Spear tip scraped stone. He entered the man's guard like water slipping through a crack. Following up with a pommel strike to the throat of the man.
The man's cartilage crunched. His throat gagged instantly. He dropped to his knees grabbing his throat. Choking.
The third assassin, seeing his companions fail, hesitates. Auryn didn't give him time to think.
He charged, aggressively. Using Auryn's muscle memory.
Flashes ran through his mind. Training yard. Wooden swords. Instructor shouting in the background.
"Commit to the strike! Hesitation kills!"
His blade struck the assassin across the chest. A deep and fatal blow.
I did that. Me. Not Auryn. Not the system.
Me.
Three down. Nine remained.
And he was already breathing hard. Exhausted. One hour's rest wasn't enough.
Borin roared. His voice pierced through Auryn's uncertainty.
The dwarf had dismounted. Axe in hand. Rune-forged steel gleaming with faint blue light.
Two assassins lay at his feet. Their eyes cold. Skin pale.
A third engaged him. Trading blows. Borin's axe moved like water. Decades of experience manifesting in every strike.
The assassin was fast and skilled. Rank 2, like Auryn. Skilled fighter.
It didn't matter. Borin read his attacks. Predicted and countered.
He moved with ingenious precision. Axe caught the sword and with a twist. The assassin was disarmed.
The follow-up strike separated the assassin's head from his shoulders.
Four down. Eight left.
The leader watched from the edge of the clearing. He hadn't moved a muscle. Violet flames dancing between his fingers.
He watched meticulously. Assessing the situation then he gestured.
The flames shot forward. Not at Auryn. But the ground between them. Fire erupted spreading into a wall. Separating Auryn from Borin.
"Fire Wall." A Mid-tier spell.
The heat washed over Auryn. Oppressive and blinding. He couldn't see Borin through the flames.
"LAD!" Borin screamed.
"I'M FINE!" He answered calmly turning to face four assassins that closed in on him.
Damn..this is bad.
---
They came from all sides. Auryn shifted his stance instinctually between blocks, dodges and parries.
But four-on-one was unreasonable when he couldn't just overwhelm. Eventually, numbers won.
A blade scraped his ribs. Glancing off the armor with just a dent
That was close.
He spun. Creating space between him and them by backing towards a tree.
Your environment is your weapon. Use it.
A thought crawled through his mind.
An assassin rushed him. Hoping to get the upper hand. He slashed downwards with force but Auryn sidestepped. The blade dug deep and stuck in the bark of the tree.
Auryn's blade moved in immediately and found his neck. A precise slit running across his throat. Blood spluttered, staining the tree.
At the other side of the fire wall. Steel clashed against steel. Borin fights his own group.
We're divided. That was the plan.
Separate us. Kill us individually.
The assassin leader walked through his own flames. Immune.
"You're better than reports suggested." His voice was conversational. Tainted with curiosity.
Auryn didn't answer. Focused on the three assassins circling him.
The leader continued. "But I've fought Adept level nobles before. You're different. Sharper. More... aware."
One of the three assassins feinted left. Auryn didn't fall for it. Reading the thrust. He parried, caught the man's wrist and twisted hard with draconic strength.
Bone snapped. The assassin screamed in pain but Auryn's blade found his heart quick enough to muffle the wails.
Six down.
The leader's eyes narrowed. "Interesting. You fight like you've done this before. Many times."
The death of his men seemed to have no effect on him.
Because I have. A memory ran across his mind. A sparring match. A dozen opponents circling him.
"Survive long enough and they'll make mistakes. Be patient." The words from his instructor.
Auryn backed toward another tree. Feigning retreat but he didn't fool the two other assassins this time.
They were more wary now. Two of their companions had died like nothing.
The leader sighed. Seeing their reluctance.
"This is taking too long."
He raised both hands. Violet flames condensed around a magic circle of same color. Forming into a mid-sized spear that floated overhead.
"Burning Lance" His eyes narrowed. The lance shot forward.
Holy shit. Auryn's thoughts nearly slipped out. Auryn dove behind the tree.
The lance punched through. The oak tree exploded into splinters and caught fire.
Heat seared Auryn's back. His cloak on fire as well.
He ripped it off, throwing it to the side. Crouched with hand firm on the sword hilt.
The two assassins charged, thinking him vulnerable.
A fatal mistake.
Auryn moved. He met the first as their blades locked. They seemed to be on equal footing in strength but not in brains.
Auryn swiftly kicked at his knee. Low, hard and dirty. The joint buckled and the assassin dropped on a knee. Auryn's blade followed mercilessly. Stabbing through his chest.
Seven.
The last assassin stopped.
Saw his companion die. Auryn stood, blood-soaked. Eyes crimson and gold. Dragon aura spilling out uncontrolled as crimson streams.
The assassin ran. But he didn't get far. Even as Auryn's eyes followed him.
The leader's hand moved. Casual gesture.
Violet flame spikes sheared the air and impaled the man from behind.
The man convulsed and died.
"Cowardice," the leader said. Obviously disappointed. He turned to Auryn.
"It's just us now, Prince."
Beyond the fire wall, sounds of combat had stopped.
Either Borin was dead.
Or victorious.
Auryn prayed for the latter.
The leader drew his twin blades. Finally, steel gleaming. Runes etched along their length.
Enchanted. Of course.
He moved with great speed. Auryn barely blocked the first strike. Another series of strikes followed but they were all parried.
Too fast. Too strong.
I can't win this.
The leader closed the distance. Blades raised. "You fought well. But experience only takes you so far."
Violet flames gathered. Execution strike building.
Auryn felt it. There was no other way.
Auryn reached inward and found the golden thread.
Gates of Avarice.
Reality tore beside him.
A circular golden ripple appeared. Three feet wide. Draconic script writhing along its edges like living flames.
Through it—void. And within the void—
Cinderfang.
The assassin leader froze and stared.
"That's... impossible."
Auryn reached through. Fingers closed around the hilt.
Pain exploded in his palm. The blade burned. Anti-dragon properties rejecting him.
But bearable. Just barely.
He pulled it free.
The portal remained open beside him. Cinderfang's violet flames reflected in the leader's wide eyes.
"That blade. That's the dragon killer. But that means you—"
Dragon aura erupted from Auryn. Uncontrolled. Mixing with Cinderfang's presence.
Pressure. Heat. Power.
The fire wall behind them guttered. Flames dying. The assassin leader took a step back. First sign of fear.
"Where did you—how did you—"
Auryn stood. Slowly. Cinderfang held in burned hands.
Met the leader's eyes.
"You wanted to see what I'm capable of."
Whoosh
He moved...
A/N
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