It quickly became evident where they were heading—a towering rock outcropping that loomed over the rugged terrain. At its summit stood a weathered platform, its grim purpose unmistakable. This was the execution site, where the condemned met their end beneath the swaying ropes of the gallows. Because of its height, it was also visible from the city entrance and the road leading up to it.

  The path to the gallows was as grim as the act that awaited at its summit. Jagged rock outcroppings loomed on either side, the terrain steep and treacherous. Loose stones skittered underfoot, and twisted shrubs clung to the craggy surface, their skeletal thorny branches reaching skyward making the hiding between them almost impossible if not for my shield.

  By the time I arrived, they were tying the noose around Lucien’s neck. The condemned man, bound and battered, had managed to free his mouth and was now begging for his life, desperation thick in his voice.

  “I swear I didn’t have any information about the heist!” Lucien cried. “I’ve been loyal from the start! He has to give me another chance.”

  A burly man, clearly the leader, stood near Lucien. He was broad-shouldered, with a face carved from stone and a jagged scar running from his temple to his jaw. His voice was cold as he spoke, laced with derision. “Oh, Lucien. The boss forgave you once—remember the Ashford compound? You let her get away. You know how much I had to beg to spare your life back then? And now? You repay me by botching the convoy.”

  One of the enforcers delivered a heavy punch to Lucien’s gut, silencing him mid-protest. The leader continued, his words slicing the night like a blade. “She was the only one who could have challenged him. Do you know how much you cost us by letting her go?”

  My heart skipped. Were they talking about Bendis? She wasn’t strong enough to challenge Sedeus outright—or so I thought. Could they mean metaphorically, referring to her role in leading the resistance? Or did someone else escape? If so, this potential ally could change everything.

  Lucien coughed, but managed to lift his head. “I had nothing to do with the convoy,” he gasped. “My duties are in the city.”

  Another punch connected, and if not for the noose holding him upright, he’d have crumpled to the ground. The leader’s voice rose, dripping with fury. “Exactly. Tracks led back to the city, proving there’s still a resistance—a resistance you swore was no more dangerous than a kitten. That ‘kitten’ just took on a full battalion and escaped with his spoils. His spoils!” He punctuated his words with another strike, this one sending Lucien into silence.

  Now i had a dilemma. At first I thought they were random soldiers, so not really a threat to me. But if they were Sedeus enforcers, they could be powerful. Even if I could best them, one of them could easily escape into the night. If I fought them, I’d need to conceal my identity and avoid using my signature spells. Could I risk it?

  I didn’t have an extensive arsenal of spells—maybe that was a shortcoming on my part—but the ones I had were reliable and effective. Why waste time creating spells I’d never use? For obscure scenarios like this? It seemed impractical.

  There was another option… I could simply do nothing. After all, Isla had already mapped the canals, and we had a decent grasp of the castle’s layout. Well, maybe not perfect, but enough to piece together a workable plan. As for the guards, what critical information could he possibly have that we didn’t? The exact numbers? Those would have to be dealt with regardless.

  But then again, he seemed to know people—important ones, from the sound of it. That included Sedeus’ inner circle, something we were completely blind to.

  I had other spells at my disposal, but they were either ineffective or took too long to cast, making them impractical in the heat of the moment. Then, I remembered the explosive spell—a powerful tool, though one that required significant preparation. I rarely used it because of the time it demanded, but now, with a moment to spare, I began channeling my energy into forming the explosive orb. The air around me crackled faintly as I focused, the orb growing brighter with each passing second.

  “Rope is ready, boss!” a voice shouted, snapping me out of my concentration.

  “Wait!” Lucien’s voice rang out, desperate and trembling. “I still have information! I have a spy inside the resistance. If you kill me, you’ll lose him!”

  The men around him chuckled. One of them sneered, “Fat lot of good he’s done so far. Or did you recruit him on the way to the gallows?” Their laughter echoed in the cold night air.

  Lucien wasn’t done. “I have gold stashed away! I can tell you where it is!” He was throwing out every possible bargaining chip, hoping something would stick.

  The leader of the group laughed again, a harsh, mocking sound. “At this point, you could tell me water is wet, and I wouldn’t believe you.” He turned to one of his men and barked, “Push him over.”

  “I think I know who the mage that attacked you was!” Lucien blurted out, just as the man moved to shove him off the edge.

  My stomach dropped. Mage, he had said. Singular. He was clearly grasping at straws, but even if they didn’t believe him, it was too much of a risk for me. Only now did it dawn on me that these men weren’t even concerned about others stumbling upon this scene. That either meant they were dangerously incompetent or extremely confident in their control of the situation—neither of which boded well for me.

  Lucien dangled precariously at the edge, but his gamble seemed to pay off, at least temporarily. “Pull him back,” the leader ordered an aide, his tone shifting from amusement to curiosity. He stepped closer to Lucien, his voice low and threatening. “What mage?”

  Stolen novel; please report.

  I knew I couldn’t wait any longer. Pulling the hood over my head and hoping the explosive blast was charged enough, I summoned a black hole in the midst of the men, its dark, swirling energy pulling them together. The spell’s inky blackness masked its presence, and they were caught completely off guard, their bodies drawn toward the vortex with little resistance.

  With a deep breath, I launched the explosive blast toward the three men now bunched together. Unfortunately, this spell wasn’t as subtle as the black hole. The leader, quick to react, grabbed one of his men and used him as a human shield just as the blast hit.

  The explosion was far more powerful than I had anticipated. The force of it rattled the ground beneath me, and I could feel the heat of the blast even from where I stood. Two of the men were killed instantly, their bodies twisted and broken in unnatural positions. The leader was thrown violently into the gallows, buried beneath a pile of wreckage. The fourth man, who had been holding Lucien at the edge, dropped the rope in shock and fled into the night before I could react. He was gone, disappearing into the shadows—exactly the kind of loose end I had been worried about.

  Lucien dangled from the rope, gasping for air, his face pale and panicked. I moved quickly, well maybe quickly was exaggerating as the ice spear took a while to conjure up, but it did its job cutting him down before he could suffocate. As he crumpled to the ground, gasping for air and clutching his bruised throat, a faint rustling sound caught my attention. My eyes snapped toward the pile of wreckage where the leader had been buried. The debris shifted, groaning under the weight of the broken wood and metal. Slowly, the leader emerged from the heap, his face bloodied, but his eyes burning with fury. He stood unsteadily, his body battered but far from defeated, and his gaze locked onto me like a predator sizing up its prey.

  He was clearly injured, his movements sluggish and pained. For a moment, I thought maybe I had overestimated him. But then, in a flash, his body flickered—a blur of motion—and before I could react, he crashed into me with the force of a battering ram. The impact sent me flying, my back slamming into a boulder with a sickening crunch. I sprawled on the ground, dazed and gasping for air. My vision swam, and I could have sworn there were more stars in the sky than before—though whether they were real or just my head spinning, I couldn’t tell.

  Before I could even begin to recover, I felt a rough hand clamp around my ankle. With a grunt of effort, he yanked me off the ground and slammed me into the rock wall again. Pain shot through my body, and I barely had time to think before I activated my slow-time spell. The world around me shifted, the chaos slowing to a crawl.

  In the distorted flow of time, I saw him moving toward me again, his hand reaching out to grab my leg. This time, I twisted away just in time, his fingers missing me by a hair’s breadth. I scrambled to my feet, ready to retaliate, but something caught my eye. Even in the dim light, I could make out the outline of a bracer on his arm. It looked strikingly similar to the one we had captured from the baggage train. That explained his sudden surge of strength and speed. The bracer was enhancing him, giving him power far beyond his natural limits.

  He lunged at me again, but with the slow-time spell still active, I could dodge his attacks with relative ease. The only silver lining in this mess was that my hood had miraculously stayed on, shielding my face from recognition. Still, I was taller than average and that alone could give me away if anyone was paying close attention.

  As I retreated, putting distance between us, I noticed his movements growing slower, more labored. He was limping now, favoring one leg. The explosion must have done more damage than he realized, and the adrenaline that had been fueling him was starting to wear off. But even as he slowed, I couldn’t land a hit. Every spell I had was too slow to cast, and while he couldn’t reach me, I couldn’t strike him either.

  I needed to get out of here. Who knew who else was watching from the shadows. My eyes darted to Lucien, who had recovered enough to start running down the road. Without hesitation, I sprinted after him, my legs burning with the effort.

  The big guy tried to follow, but he was falling behind with every step, his injuries finally catching up to him. I didn’t look back. My only focus was putting as much distance between us as possible.

  Lucien ran like a man possessed, his energy seemingly boundless, as if he were a marathonist sprinting for the finish line. I, on the other hand, struggled to keep up, my breath coming in ragged gasps as I pushed myself to match his pace. Every so often, he glanced over his shoulder, and upon seeing me, he’d veer off in a new direction, desperately trying to shake me. Fortunately, the terrain didn’t offer many hiding spots, and his constant zigzagging only cost him time. He did manage to lose me once, disappearing into the shadows, but my night vision spell quickly revealed him huddled in a small alcove carved into the rock, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.

  As I approached, he tensed, ready to fight. “I saved you,” I said in a low, steady voice. “You should be more grateful.”

  “Tiberius?” he asked, his voice tinged with both surprise and relief.

  At least he was smart enough not to attack me. If he had, I wouldn’t have hesitated to ensure he was six feet under, buried where no one would ever find him. I didn’t have time for unnecessary fights.

  “You were lucky tonight,” I continued, my tone sharp. “Or maybe I was, seeing as you were about to mention me, weren’t you?”

  He stammered, struggling to find words. “They were going to kill me,” he finally blurted out, his voice trembling.

  “Yes, yes,” I replied, my patience wearing thin. “I guess I’m sympathetic to that.” But I didn’t have time for chit-chat. “I can take you somewhere safe.”

  “Safe?” he scoffed, his eyes darting around nervously. “I have to run as far away from the capital as possible.”

  “Don’t be stupid,” I snapped. “You know they have people everywhere. They’ll find you eventually. I know people in the resistance. They can hide you.”

  He skipped over the mention of the resistance entirely, his survival instincts clearly overriding any rational thought. “You mean go back to the city? No way. I have contacts on the roads—they’ll help me,” he insisted, his voice rising with desperation.

  I stepped closer, my voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “You might be under the wrong impression. I’m not letting you live with what you know now. It’s either go with the resistance, or else.” I didn’t have to pretend to be menacing; the cold certainty in my voice was enough. For a moment, it even frightened me—not the act of killing itself, but the complete absence of doubt in my decision.

  He hesitated, his mind clearly racing as he weighed his options. I could see the gears turning, the fleeting hope of finding a way out, even the brief consideration of trying to fight past me. But after a long, tense moment, he let out a short sigh, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “Where are we going, then?” he asked, his voice resigned.

  “There’s a safehouse in a forest, half a day’s journey from here,” I said. It had been the rendezvous point if things went south during the mission. And while they hadn’t—not entirely—I was sure the resistance would have someone posted there. It was our best shot at keeping him alive and, more importantly, keeping him quiet.