The night was deep, casting shadows that cloaked the group as they moved, each step measured and silent. Axel led the way, his movements fluid and controlled, a shadow within shadows.
The Warlords followed closely, blending into the darkness like they’d been born into it. They were on their way to the location Axel had scouted earlier, a discreet, unassuming building tucked into one of the quieter, less-patrolled parts of the city.
Ethan trailed behind, careful to keep pace. He had Stealth, a skill he’d unlocked just hours before. Even though it wasn’t yet at Master tier—he’d lacked just one more Ascension Point to get it there—it was still advanced enough to make his presence nearly invisible to the untrained eye. As he moved, he couldn’t help but test his new skill, noticing how his footsteps seemed to sink into the silence, almost as if muffled by an unseen barrier.
‘The system doesn’t play around,’ he thought to himself, impressed by the ease with which Stealth melded him into the environment. He knew he still had much to learn. Still, even at the Intermediate tier, it was evident that the skill aligned with Axel’s expertise.
Axel paused, raising a hand to signal the group to halt. He turned, his gaze sharp and precise. “Alright,” he whispered, his voice barely a breath against the quiet. “We’re close. From here, we’ll keep a low profile and stick to shadows. Remember, we’re in and out. No unnecessary risks.”
The others nodded in understanding, each mentally preparing for the delicate operation ahead. They were used to being the blunt force, the shield, the hammer. Tonight, they were the whisper in the night.
Ethan observed Axel’s command over the mission and his attention to detail. The man was well-suited to leading a stealth operation, and his movements were almost instinctual as he gestured where each of them should position themselves.
As they neared the perimeter of the building, Ethan’s mind wandered briefly to Steven. The man had been left unaware, continuing his daily routine to avoid arousing suspicion. This was no task for an ordinary person, after all. Steven’s knowledge of the operation was limited to one piece of advice—act as if nothing were out of the ordinary.
Axel signaled for them to move, and Ethan took a steadying breath. Tonight, with each silent step, they would make sure Steven’s family came home safely.
***
Inside the dimly lit room, Leah sat on an old couch, with Evan leaning against her shoulder, his eyelids heavy with sleep. Lira lay curled in her lap, her small hand clutching tightly to her mother’s fingers. Hale sat by the door, his sharp gaze fixed on them, his usual fiery impatience softened in this unusual moment.
He’d insisted on watching Steven’s family, refusing to let anyone else take his place. Some others had teased him, joking that he’d found the easiest assignment to avoid real action. Hale didn’t bother correcting them. In truth, he didn’t care what they thought. For reasons he hadn’t fully examined himself, he wanted to personally ensure these people were safe.
‘I don’t want anything to happen to them,’ he thought, his eyes drifting to the sleeping children. They were so innocent, so unaware of the danger surrounding them. This was a mess they didn’t ask for, yet here they were, caught in a web of power struggles and schemes. And he was determined to be their protector in this.
A faint chime interrupted his thoughts. Hale’s brows furrowed as he glanced down at his communicator, the screencasting a faint glow. The message was from the other four, and as he read it, his expression darkened.
***
Ethan and the Warlords moved like shadows, slipping into the building with practiced precision. Flint took the lead, his fingers deftly working over various security systems, his mind racing to disable every alarm and trap they encountered.
He muttered under his breath, barely audible, as he deactivated a laser grid and easily dismantled the motion detectors. It was second nature to him, almost like he was born for this.
Behind him, Lucan was unusually silent, his normally steady presence tinged with an intensity that hadn’t gone unnoticed. Rhea exchanged a quick look with Ethan, sensing something off in Lucan’s demeanor. Normally unshakeable, he was carrying a tension that felt uncharacteristic.
“Hey, Lucan, you good?” Rhea whispered, her eyes flicking between him and the path ahead.
Before Lucan could respond, Flint, ever the one for a little mischief, leaned over with a grin. “Don’t tell me you’re getting rusty, Lucan. Been away from the action a bit too long, haven’t you?”
Axel chuckled softly from his position by the door. “Don’t worry, Lucan—we’ll ease you back nicely and easily.”
A faint smirk flickered across Lucan’s face, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’ll manage,” he replied gruffly, though the usual confidence in his tone was subdued.
Ethan’s eyes narrowed as he watched Lucan’s subdued expression. Something wasn’t adding up. Taking a step closer, he whispered, “Lucan, what’s going on? You’re not yourself.”
Lucan hesitated momentarily, his gaze flickering to the corridor ahead and then Ethan. He sighed, his voice barely audible. “I’m sensing something…off. There are others inside, ones with auras close to our level. Stronger than we expected.”
Ethan’s brows knit together.
Axel, listening nearby, frowned a hint of confusion in his eyes. “That doesn’t make sense. Even the Elders of LaRues have nobody higher than Middle Star Soldiers. Besides, they wouldn’t waste high-level Ascendants just to guard… well, regular people.” He looked around, his tone skeptical. “Are you sure, Lucan?”
Lucan nodded, his face grim. “I know what I felt. There are at least two powerful enough to match us.”
“Two? We have an advantage then,” replied Flint, who was still busy with his task.
Rhea’s eyes widened slightly as she exchanged a wary glance with Calder. “That means they’re expecting more than a simple rescue mission. It’s like they’re waiting for us.”
Ethan took a steadying breath, his mind racing. “This changes things. If they know we’re here, we might need to adjust our plan.”
Lucan placed a hand on his shoulder, meeting Ethan’s gaze directly. “No. Whatever they’re planning, we’ll handle it. But we need to be ready.”
Ethan nodded a new resolve sparking in his eyes. “Alright, let’s stay sharp. We’ll handle what comes.”
Flint frowned deeply, his sharp gaze scanning the darkened room for any signs of traps or hidden mechanisms. “Wait… could they have actually altered the layout? That’s not supposed to be possible, is it?”
A quiet voice cut through the tension—Seraph, who rarely spoke unless necessary. “Or maybe,” she said, her tone steady, “Axel was led by illusion during his scouting. They might have wanted us to end up here.”
Still navigating the Ascendant world’s complexities, Ethan furrowed his brow. “Illusion? So, this place isn’t even real?”
Thorne, ever composed and serious, turned to Ethan. “Not quite. Just like Rhea’s rare skills in healing and alchemy, there are Ascendants with different specialties—abilities to manipulate perception, like Illusions. They can make you see something that’s not there or mask something.”
Before Ethan could respond, the footsteps echo broke the silence, each step deliberate and mocking. A familiar figure emerged from the shadows, his smirk evident even in the dim light.
“Well, well, Cole,” Lucien drawled, his voice dripping with derision. “Still so ignorant of the world you’ve stepped into.”
As Lucien stood smugly before them, five figures emerged behind him, each exuding a quiet confidence. Their presence was imposing, the weight of their ranks unmistakable. Ethan’s gaze flicked over them, recognizing their distinct roles and how they held themselves.
Darius, the leader, met Ethan’s eyes with a steady, calculating stare, his scarred brow adding to his commanding air. Beside him was Vera, her sharp gaze assessing each of Ethan’s Warlords with a caution that seemed habitual. Though silent and observant, Rhys kept his eyes on the room as though evaluating every possible confrontation angle.
Hale, smaller than the others but with a fierce intensity in his green eyes, looked ready to jump at the first opportunity to attack, his impatience barely contained. Standing in the shadows, Silas watched with cool gray eyes, his expression unreadable, taking in every detail without a word.
But there was more. Three other figures stepped forward, their presence heavy and undeniable. Lucan’s eyes widened slightly as he recognized them. He leaned in toward Ethan, his voice low but tense.
“They’re from the Petrova family,” Lucan murmured, a note of warning in his tone. “That family’s influence goes beyond Novan City—more respected and dangerous than any of the Great Families here. Even their presence in a place like this is unusual.”
Ethan’s gaze sharpened as he absorbed Lucan’s words. The Petrova family was a name that commanded respect and fear, even from the Great Families of Novan City. They weren’t the kind to meddle lightly, and their involvement changed everything. This wasn’t just about the LaRues anymore.
Ethan clenched his fists, his mind racing. Of course, he thought, the LaRues wouldn’t risk so much without powerful allies. This has Anton’s stamp all over it.
He recalled the clash with Anton—a stark reminder of how petty vendettas could spiral into far-reaching consequences. The Petrova family, however, wasn’t one to engage over personal gripes; they dealt in influence, secrets, and calculated moves. If they were backing the LaRues, they saw something valuable in this partnership.
Lucien’s smirk widened, clearly relishing his allies’ effect on Ethan and his Warlords.
“Figured it out, have you, Cole?” Lucien drawled, his tone taunting. “Did you think you could just meddle in our affairs without repercussions? The Petrovas… let’s say they are vested in seeing you put in your place.”
Ethan’s jaw tightened, but he stood, meeting Lucien’s gaze with unwavering resolve. “So, what’s the plan? Have your friends here do your work for you?”
Lucien’s smile faltered momentarily, replaced by a flash of irritation before he masked it. “Don’t flatter yourself. You’re simply a pest we’re eliminating. And that shouldn’t take long with the Petrovas by my side.”
The Petrova representatives remained silent, their expressions inscrutable. Ethan noted their composure, the way they barely acknowledged Lucien’s ranting. They were here, but clearly not as his subordinates; their presence was a display of power, not allegiance.
Ethan turned slightly, his voice barely a murmur as he addressed the Warlords, though his tone was laced with determination. “Get ready. Whatever their intentions, we’ll get Steven’s family out of here.”
The Warlords shifted, subtly bracing themselves for whatever lay ahead. Axel’s hand hovered near his weapon, and Rhea’s eyes darted, assessing the Petrova representatives calmly.
Darius finally spoke, his voice low and steady. “You’re making a grave error here, Ethan Cole. You’ve crossed boundaries you don’t understand.”
But Ethan only nodded a glint of defiance in his eyes. “Then maybe it’s time I find out exactly where those boundaries lie.”
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