Hastum
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44. Rookie mistake
🕑 Added 2025-08-30 10:14:29 +0000 UTCWe were driving from the airport in the direction of the broker's house, looking around for any suspicious activity. The streets were mostly empty in the middle of the night, only the main roads seeing any movement at the late hour.
“Do you see them?” asked the cat, keeping his eyes on the road.
“I think so. The black sedan has been popping in and out since the airport. I think that's them,” I replied, turning in my seat to look behind us.
“You ready?” the cat asked, and I nodded.
He then turned onto a side road, away from the cat lady's house and into a less populated part of the suburbs, where storage units and low-income housing could be found. Once there was no one around, the black sedan popped up from one of the side roads.
The cat sped up.
The car behind us did as well.
“Yep, that's them,” I confirmed.
The cat nodded and floored the gas pedal. The car jumped forward, the sedan still keeping up.
We arrived closer to an old storage unit complex as I laid my hand on the door.
“The one where the backyard opens to the street on the other side. There will be good.” I said, pointing at a building to the left.
Q’Shar nodded and floored the brakes, swerving to the left as we drifted into a driveway of a storage unit. The car slowed down for a second as the sedan caught up.
I opened the door and jumped from the car, rolling to the side. I rose to my feet right in front of the other vehicle.
Magic Missile
Three projectiles of mana formed in front of me and went for the driver. The man ducked down. I stepped to the side and fired Force directly into the steering wheel as the car was passing me by.
It swerved to the right, stopping with a crash at a small tool shed.
I summoned my staff into my hand as I took some distance, standing closer to a pile of scrap lying on the ground.
The doors of the car opened on both sides and four people got out of the car. The two from the back massaged their heads after the impact.
The leader of the clowns was a large man, the same one we saw in the parking lot before. He had short brown hair in a buzz cut and a square face fitting his bulky body. He was at the second circle, recently awakened, and the biggest of the four. As he got out of the driver's seat, he carried an axe and a massive shield.
The remaining three included one man with a sword, dressed in some sort of segmented leather armor, looking quite young. Another, more petite guy with a staff with a blue shining gem at the top. Both were at the first circle. And finally, the assassin. It was a woman dressed in all black, half of her face covered by some material, and carrying a crossbow. She was at the pinnacle of the first circle.
The entire group did not look very threatening, to say the least.
“Are you suicidal or just plain stupid?” I asked once they all stood before me. “You can't think you'll defeat me with those numbers.”
“We heard that you are arrogant. But you are not the only one with backing, and this is four on one. I would like to see how you counter our teamwork,” spat the leader.
“Riiight, backing. Did someone give you the resources to ascend to second circle, told you you can defeat me? Let me guess, you will be given all the power you want just complete the mission,” I said with raised eyebrows. “Did it ever cross your mind they promised you this much because whoever it was knew you would not survive? Why not tell me who you work for and walk away with your lives?”
“All of your speeches won’t do anything. We were warned about your slimy tongue,” said the leader as the assassin moved behind the car into a shooting position.
“Slimy tongue, nice change of pace. The cat just calls me an asshole, so thanks. And have you ever fought an actual battle before this? I don’t see many scratches on that shield,” I said, pointing my finger at the massive shield.
The man did not answer, but the tightened muscles around his jaw told me all I needed to know.
“You are aware that you can’t beat me without using mana. And no offense, but you don’t look like you come from a family with many resources left. Aren’t you afraid this will be your last fight, even if you somehow get incredibly lucky and I die of a heart attack in the middle of the battle?”
The man smiled at me this time. “You won’t talk your way out of this. Killing you will net enough resources to last for the next hundred years.”
So whoever was doing this entire stunt didn’t let them in on the inside info. Or the guy lied, but it didn’t look like that.
“So money and fame?” I asked, tilting my head, disappointment on my face. “How cliché.”
I had heard enough of his voice by now to do what I wanted to do. It was time to fight.
“Killing you will make us legends,” the man said and readied his shield for attack.
I laughed at his words.
“What’s so funny?” he spat, clearly not the reaction he was expecting.
“Yes, I guess I shouldn’t laugh as it is mostly sad.” I looked at him with pity. “Killing me will make you legends. But I’m about to wipe out all four of you and there won’t even be a passage written about it.”
He gnashed his teeth and jumped forward, barreling toward me with his shield raised as the guy with the sword followed behind him, his weapon lowered with the point ready for a stab.
I started dual casting.
The man was running at me, ready to topple me over, his shield shining with mana as he used some sort of technique to strengthen it, the guy with the short sword following, ready to run me through once I was off balance.
I didn’t have any chance of stopping the charge or breaking through from the front.
But I didn’t intend to.
First, I stepped to the side, showing myself to the crossbow-woman as I released Silent Message, modifying the spell to make it sound like the voice of their leader. The magic was not made for deception. Any seasoned warrior would immediately realize what it was. They were not seasoned.
“Shoot now!” a voice screamed in the woman’s head as she pulled the trigger, pointing the crossbow at my chest.
At the same time, one of the metal debris in the pile next to us flew at the barreling man.
Force Control
The metal scrap slammed into his side, catching him off guard. The attack was stopped by his muscles, but it was enough, pushing him right into the path of the flying arrow.
“No!” screamed the assassin, but it was too late. The projectile hit him in the back, the tip coming through the front of his chest.
The man took another step as he tripped and toppled to the ground, groaning with pain.
I sidestepped him, going for the guy with the sword. Seeing that it would not be an easy stab, he changed his attack into an overhead swing, trying to cleave me from my shoulder down.
But too late.
As he was about to swing the sword on my head, I stepped into his guard and materialized a Shield right under his two extended hands. He tried to pull them down to defend, trying to break the spell and continue the swing, but to no avail. I locked my gaze with his eyes wide with panic. I pulled my dagger and, with one smooth motion, stabbed it at an angle into his exposed armpit.
He screamed in pain as I twisted the blade and, using it as a makeshift handle, rotated him into the path of the spellcaster’s attack.
It was an overcharged ice projectile of some sort. As the mage saw the back of his friend, he panicked. His control was too weak to stop casting as the spell activation sequence completed. He angled the spell into the ground at the last second.
I pulled my dagger and hurled it at the crossbow-woman. She ducked easily behind the car, but that stopped her from loading the weapon.
I took a step toward the mage as I pointed my staff at him and screamed “Firebolt!”
A shield immediately materialized in front of the mage as the big crystal at his staff went dim. But no spell arrived to crash into that shield. Rookie mistake, he should’ve relied on magical senses instead.
I turned to the crossbow-woman, who was getting ready to shoot me in the side as I fought the spellcaster. We exchanged projectiles. I cast Cut into her throat as she released the bolt. I used my staff's charge to cast a Shield at an angle, upwards. The bolt hit it with a metallic clang and went spinning in the air as my spell met her throat.
I turned to the mage. He was trying to cast some attack spell, his hands shaking, panic overtaking him.
Counterspelling him was a breeze. With barely any resonance, I pushed his spell out of balance. He tried casting another, but the same happened as I approached him.
“W-Wait, we didn’t kno—”
I extended my staff and fired a Cut spell point-blank into his throat.
I looked around. Three dead or dying, and the larger man trying to get up, the bolt in his back muscles preventing him from picking up the large shield.
It was a quick battle. They were rookies. The fight was easy. I was a bit disappointed, but at least the moral conundrum was easy. Shouldn’t have attacked me. They wouldn’t be dead. Their mistake.
I approached him and stepped on the shield, pinning it to the ground as he looked at me. Blood left his mouth with each shallow breath. He lifted his eyes to meet mine, hatred filling them.
“I would ask you who hired you, but I have a distinct impression, judging by your fighting ability, that you didn’t even get to know the people behind it, right?”
He gnashed his teeth. I was right.
“God damn it, not even anything useful out of you,” I sighed, lifting my staff to finish him off. In a desperate attempt, he lunged forward, trying to topple me over, but I simply stepped to the side, firing a spell right into his throat.
He lay on the ground. To my surprise, he smiled, trying to laugh, although ending up just coughing blood.
Curious, I got a bit closer after checking he didn’t have a hidden weapon on him.
“Strange moment for comedy,” I commented.
His bloody smile got wider. “W-We were… n-not the only ones,” he heaved. Another coughing fit stopped his words. “They knew you would be arrogant… e-enough to fight by yourself.”
I tilted my head.
“T-They will catch that cat and bitch. A-And we will see how well you fight with a dagger on their throats. T-There are p-powerful warriors.”
He tried laughing again, ending up just coughing instead, as the light in his eyes dimmed a bit.
A better man, a less petty man, would let him have his last words and die in peace, thinking he fulfilled some sort of a role. An even better man might even tell him he fought well. But I was not a better man.
I got my mouth closer to his ear and whispered, “Yeah, that’s the plan."
