Carla and the others had been prepared for an attack to come, so they weren’t surprised by the bandits’ arrival. The attack was sudden, arrows and blades trying to reach the adventurer team’s members, but they reacted quickly. Carla was lucky that she had been mostly ignored due to the attack coming from Arthur’s quadrant. One arrow reached her, but that was an easy thing to counter.

  Most of Carla’s prepared spells were defensive in nature, shields of ice appearing at will around her body. She had luckily prepared a couple lances too, one having already reached an enemy target. Keeping too many spells prepared cost some of her mental energy and gave her a headache long-term, but it was especially useful on dangerous parts of missions like this.

  Carla focused on the fight, checking the condition of her teammates first. Rodrick was fine, fighting against some bronze and iron rank bandits with the help of Arthur, who was distracting the heavy fighters of the enemy group. Ciel was nowhere to be seen, but that was to be expected. The dark haired rogue’s job was to find key targets and take them out of the fight, focusing on the long range fighters and possible mages hiding within the shadows.

  As an ice mage, Carla’s job was simple. She needed to cast area of effect spells to cause as much havoc and chaos within the enemy ranks as possible. For that, she needed to find a safe spot to cast, as any interruptions could be deadly in a chaotic fight like this. She decided to situate herself between the two wagons of the caravan, the spot being the safest place right now—at least in theory.

  She dashed to her destination, having to spend one of her ice shields on the way to block an incoming arrow. It was a steep cost, since casting a spell like that cost a lot of time and mental energy, but she didn’t care. In Carla’s opinion, whoever had invented how to keep spells stored—most of the cost already incurred—was a genius like no other.

  When she reached her destination, she looked atop the first caravan. Viktor was sitting there, merely observing the fight. He was a voluntary protector for this caravan and had given the team express orders to fight like he didn’t even exist. That was a weird order considering that he could help a lot in a situation like the ongoing fight. Viktor had given no explanation, only uttering words of encouragement for the group.

  “Fight like you cannot lose as you will not fall on this mission. I will make sure of that.”

  Bolstered by the mysterious wind mage’s earlier words, Carla started casting. She had visited the Thornton academy again after reaching bronze rank, learning to empower her earlier spells in addition to learning new runes and spells altogether. There, she had finally started learning actual area of effect spells, only available to bronze ranks and above.

  The problem with iron rank and her internship in a different team was that mages were essentially useless at iron rank. As an ice mage, she had been limited to small lances of ice and falling icicles—only imitating magic on a bigger scale—and defensive spells. Now, she had learned something that would be actually useful.

  Carla took a lot of time to cast her spell, hiding for a good twenty seconds behind the wagon. The spell she was about to cast required much more complex visualization and runic work than the modified iron rank spells she had been casting during the past days. Compared to the spells that required only a couple runes, this spell consisted of ten.

  The complexity of bronze rank spells provided benefits that iron rank spells just couldn’t offer. This spell actually affected an area, whereas iron rank spells just created icicles to launch at the chosen zone. The enemy could of course resist its effects, but everyone else was there to capitalize on their momentary weakness.

  As she finished her casting—the singular spell covering almost Carla’s entire arm with light blue runes—she stepped out from behind the wagon. The last part of the spell was invoking its name. It often felt corny or even embarrassing to utter spell names, but they had a purpose. Saying the name of a spell when you finished casting made it easier to visualize its effects. Visualization was critical to spellcasting, so Carla had decided to always use names for her higher rank spells.

  “Winter’s Bloom.”

  As Rodrick heard the spell’s name, he jumped back from the bandits attacking him. The man had several small injuries, some slashes and arrows having reached his flesh, but he acted quickly. They had told each other about their capabilities, the big man knowing that standing in that spell’s area would be bad even if he wasn’t her enemy.

  The bandits weren’t so fast to act, looking in horror as a large ice blue flower grew from the ground in their midst. Some tried to run, some to block. Every single one was too slow.

  The flower bloomed, the sight similar to a dahlia—only in shades of blue compared to the reds, purples and whites normal to the flower. It was a beautiful sculpture of ice made to last only a fraction of a second. An artwork of the present, made to end those who saw its full beauty.

  The flower exploded, launching all of its petals at the enemies surrounding it. The small petals—hair-thin and the size of Carla’s palm—struck the bandits, piercing their skin while burrowing deeper. But that wasn’t all…

  Being a bronze ranked spell, the flower could be made to hold latent magic within, unleashed in each and every petal. Every wound on the bandits bodies started freezing from within, the burrowed petal releasing its magic within the body of its victim. Arms, legs, lungs and hearts froze over, the affected bandits dropping to the ground with agonized wails. Rodrick and Arthur finished them off quickly, freeing them from their misery.

  Carla’s legs buckled and she grabbed hold of the first wagon to support her weight. Casting spells like that was exhausting to the mind and the body, the pathways in her body under considerable stress. In reality, the spell she had cast was too advanced for her level of power, meant for late bronze rankers instead of early ones like her. What can I do about being smarter than the other students though? It's their fault that they need to wait before learning those runes, not mine…

  She knew that she was a better student than most, having reached bronze rank quickly for an academy student. She was only 19, her progress incredibly fast for one that awakened when she turned 17. Reaching bronze rank in only a year and being back to adventuring in under two was an incredible feat that she was certainly proud of. Still not as impressive as that boy though… Awakening at 13 is some crazy shit.

  She looked atop the second wagon, seeing Valar laying down—trying to avoid stray projectiles. Smart kid… Smart adult? That sounds wrong. He’s 13 for crying out loud!

  She continued staring at the boy, so she was the fastest to react when danger arrived.

  A single bandit, somehow evading everyone else's gazes, had snuck to the second wagon and started climbing. He was fast, but didn’t seem to care about making noise, alerting the boy to his presence. Shit! He’ll take the kid hostage, or even kill him! What do I do?

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  She started lifting up her hand, aiming her remaining ice lance at the bandit, and launched it as soon as the bandit climbed atop the wagon. To Carla’s horror, the man parried the lance, diverting it off the wagontop. His grin was vicious as he started reaching for the boy, knife in hand. Carla screamed, as Valar reached out to the bandit—his hand open.

  Carla felt the surge of mana coming. Behind her back, atop the first wagon, Viktor was casting a spell. It felt like an eruption, the endless power coming from a fully opened gate. He’s a gold ranker at the very least…

  “Cloudless Sky”

  As the surge of mana came to an end, having lasted for only half a second at most, the wind blew. The unfortunate bandit who dared to reach for Viktor’s ward simply vanished into a fine red mist. It was instant and silent, only the red haze above Valar reminding Carla of the bandit that had just stood there.

  It was a completely ridiculous sight. A bronze ranked bandit, powerful in his own right, died in a fraction of a second. There was no fighting back, no escaping and no chance of survival. Carla couldn’t even comprehend the power of a spell like that. Worst of all, the boy below the bandit is fine. The spell only affected the bandit and nothing else… How powerful must a mage be to erase a man from existence like that?

  Valar had been shocked when the bandits attacked. Despite his shock, he had managed to press himself against the wagon’s roof, protecting himself from any stray attacks. As it turned out, that had been a smart move. Arrows had flown over his head, disappearing into the thick forest behind him only seconds after his desperate move to save himself. After that, the fight had been total chaos for a good while, the team members and bandits moving at speeds that were hard to comprehend to an iron ranker like Valar.

  Rodrick had been a complete whirlwind of carnage, his axe cleaving and maiming bandits at a frightening pace. The bandits were no slouches though, fighting back ferociously and occasionally landing slashes or hits against the big man. Rodrick was armoured, but there were weak spots that could be exploited. He started accruing wounds, and Valar's trepidation only rose.

  Arthur was helping Rodrick to the best of his ability, arrows flying at enemies with frightening speed and accuracy. They felled one bandit after another, but the group of enemies had bronze rankers in addition to iron ones. Those bronze rank bandits were strong enough to not fall easily, the fight not really progressing in either side’s favor in Valar’s eyes. That was the situation… until Carla’s spell activated.

  The flower of ice was truly a beautiful sight, even if Valar was only able to see it for the briefest moment. The flower’s beautifully arranged ice blue petals reflected the sun’s rays forming an iridescent artwork—in some ways the first true work of art Valar had ever witnessed. Its destruction brought Valar an inexplicable feeling of sadness even when it brought the caravan defenders much closer to victory. The spell had been beautiful, and it strengthened Valar’s wish to learn magic in many ways. It had shown him a bare sliver of the beauty magic was capable of, and he was grateful for that.

  That brought Valar to the current situation, a bandit standing over him with a blade in hand. The beauty of Carla’s magic was forgotten as Valar felt true danger for the first time after his encounter with the umbral terror. Even worse, he hadn’t had time to deal with the lingering emotions from that day, leading to a potential catastrophe.

  He froze, just staring at the vicious bandit standing above him. The man was a real ugly bastard, grinning at him with a broken row of yellowed teeth. His face was scarred, his brown hair greasy, and worst of all, his eyes shone with a manic glee that unsettled Valar on a deep level. This was a man that knew he was going to die, his band of criminals already mostly dead. And he wanted to take someone with him… All in all, the man reminded Valar more of the sewer rat than the panther.

  A lance of ice shot towards the man from behind Valar’s back. Carla’s lance didn’t have time to bring Valar any hope of survival, the bronze rank fighter parrying the projectile with frightening ease. This was a veteran, closer to silver than iron in rank. He had seen combat many times and lived to tell the tale, so a simple spell like Carla’s lance wasn’t enough to distract him.

  He reached for Valar with his free hand, his blade ready to inflict suffering upon his victim. If the man was going to perish that day, he would be taking Valar with him—the void calling upon two souls instead of one.

  Valar managed to lift up his hand, only starting the draw upon his soul. The pain wouldn’t even have time to start, the man’s blade already descending upon Valar’s defenseless form.

  “Cloudless Sky”

  The fearsome bronze rank bandit that tried to take Valar’s life was turned to a fine red mist, blown away to the forest by a gentle wind. It had only taken an instant, and the bandit had died with a grin on his face. That... made him strangely emotional.

  He had seen people die just seconds ago, killed by Rodrick, Arthur and Carla, but that had been different. They had felt distant, just enemies to be eliminated. Why would Valar ever feel compassion for those that sought to steal and kill him and his friends? The man that had attacked Valar had been different. He had seen the man’s final moments, stared into the manic eyes that disappeared in an instant. It had been too sudden. Could that happen to me too? My life, ending just like that?

  The one who killed the bandit was obviously Viktor. Nobody else here was remotely powerful enough to erase a man from existence just like that. Viktor is a wind mage… Can just wind even do that?

  Valar turned from his back, putting his hand on the wagon roof as he raised himself from the wooden surface. He looked to the first wagon, and saw him. Viktor was still sitting down, his legs crossed. He was pointing at where the bandit had been, faint grey runes rapidly dimming along every visible part of his skin. His hands, ankles, wrists, neck and face were all covered in runes, the man’s eyes shining a bright silver. In some ways, he didn’t even look like a man anymore. I already knew he was powerful—being onyx rank and all—but what? Humans can reach this level of power… And this isn’t even the peak?

  Viktor lowered his pointed finger, sighing to himself. For some reason, he seemed disappointed in himself.

  “I went overboard again… I’ll need to do better in the future," he muttered to himself. “The efficiency was bad, and I used needless mana in the casting. I need to improve my speed too…”

  Valar saw Rodrick, Arthur and Ciel finishing the fight in the edges of his vision. He used that distraction, focusing on them instead of Viktor and his own thoughts. I think I received a new topic for my nightmares today…

  He moved his gaze to the adventurer team, Rodrick practically executing the last of the bandits with his axe. Ciel had appeared from the forest, holding a bloody dagger against the throat of a woman dressed in light armour. Apparently the rogue had decided to take in a captive.

  The woman had medium length dark hair falling to her shoulders. She was slim, the armor fitting around her body tightly. There were no unnecessary gaps; Only her joints, neck and hands free from the leather protection. Her chest and back had thicker protection, thin metal plates clamped on top of the leather. She was at iron rank, probably chosen as a captive because she was less dangerous than the others.

  She was crying, tears falling down her young face from her dark brown eyes. Her light brown face was unbloodied, suggesting that Ciel had taken her by surprise.

  “Rodrick, Viktor, I have a captive. She is an iron ranker, but I’d still like someone to bind her so that she doesn’t do anything stupid,” Ciel’s voice was cold, carrying across the site of carnage and alerting the two leaders.

  “I’ll help bind her, but we still need someone to guard her,” Viktor said. “We will be moving fast, and every one of the team is needed for defence.”

  Each and every member of the team was stumped. They didn’t have anyone to guard the woman. Will they kill her instead? I’ve seen enough slaughter for one day, and that young woman looks like she deserves to live…

  “Can I do it?” Valar asked, his tone nervous. “She is not a mage and would be bound anyway, so… is that alright?”

  Viktor shrugged. “Yeah… I think that’s alright.”

  And that’s how Valar ended up inside the second wagon, opposite of one of the bandits that had just attempted to kill him. And worst of all, he had no idea what to say… “Umm… Hi?”