Capítulo 15: The Silent Requiem (Part 2)
As Nizara and Zalthor exited Commander Thorian's office, the heavy door creaked shut behind them, leaving only the echo of their footsteps as they walked down the corridor. The air between them was thick with tension and anticipation, a clash of two powerful forces sizing each other up in silence.
After a few moments, Nizara broke the quiet. "So, Shadow Aether, huh?" he asked, glancing sideways at his new partner. "I've read about it, but I've never seen it in action. Must be pretty useful for slipping in and out unnoticed."
Zalthor's icy blue eyes remained forward, his expression unreadable. "It's not about slipping away—it's about striking before they even know you're there," he replied calmly. "Efficiency is everything. No wasted moves, no unnecessary risks."
Nizara nodded, processing Zalthor's words. "Sounds like we approach things differently. I'm more of the 'face the challenge head-on' type."
Zalthor's lips curved into a faint smirk. "I figured. I've seen how reckless you can be. Swiftstride's impressive, but if you rely on it too much, it'll become predictable. Strength is important, but so is knowing when not to use it."
Nizara bristled slightly at the comment but couldn't deny the truth in Zalthor's observation. "I'm still learning," he admitted. "But I've come a long way in a short time. I'm not the same guy I was a few weeks ago."
Zalthor finally turned his gaze toward Nizara, studying him with a calculating look. "That's what interests me. Rapid growth usually comes at a cost—or has a hidden source. Either way, you're worth keeping an eye on."
Nizara met his gaze head-on, his voice steady. "Just make sure you can keep up."
Zalthor's smirk widened slightly, and for the first time, there was a hint of respect in his eyes. "Don't worry about me. Focus on making sure you don't slow me down."
They reached the courtyard where their preparations would begin, the tension between them now tinged with a competitive edge. Despite their different methods and temperaments, there was one thing both of them knew: this mission was not just about completing a task—it was a test of who would emerge stronger.
As they went their separate ways to gather gear and ready themselves for the journey ahead, both warriors felt a subtle, unspoken acknowledgment: they were about to step into a challenge that would push them to their limits, and neither was planning on being the one left behind.
After gathering the supplies from the armory, Nizara and Zalthor secured them onto their horses. The sun barely pierced through the dense canopy of trees as they swiftly set off on the narrow, winding path leading to Thornshade. The rhythmic thuds of hooves against the dirt trail echoed softly in the otherwise quiet forest, only occasionally interrupted by the rustling of leaves in the gentle breeze.
Riding side by side, the two kept their eyes sharp and senses heightened. The forest was alive with the subtle whispers of nature, but an underlying tension buzzed in the air, as if it, too, knew the danger that lay ahead.
Zalthor broke the silence. "We need to reach Thornshade before nightfall. The forest is known for more than just bandits after dark."
Nizara nodded, gripping the reins a bit tighter. "We'll get there in time. I'm more concerned about what waits for us once we do."
Zalthor's expression remained as cold as ever. "Whatever it is, it'll be dealt with swiftly. Just focus on the mission."
Nizara glanced ahead at the winding path. "We're delivering supplies, sure—but it's the investigation that's the real reason we're being sent. Thornshade's been too quiet for comfort lately."
The horses picked up speed as they navigated deeper into the heart of the forest. With each passing minute, the shadows grew longer, and the path seemed to twist with an almost unnatural tension. The two warriors pressed onward, knowing that Thornshade—and the unknown threats it held—were drawing ever closer.
As they neared the outskirts of Thornshade, Zalthor suddenly signaled for Nizara to halt. They reined in their horses near a secluded clearing hidden from the village's view, the faint silhouette of Thornshade just beyond the treeline. Nizara furrowed his brow, confused by the sudden stop.
"Why are we stopping here?" Nizara asked, scanning the area.
Zalthor dismounted his horse calmly. "We're being cautious. The rumors mentioned bandits, right? If they're lurking around the village, we need to see how they respond to our 'arrival' first."
Before Nizara could respond, Zalthor clasped his hands together and dark energy began swirling around him. In an instant, shadows pooled at his feet and from them rose multiple identical figures—perfect shadow clones of Zalthor. The shadows morphed and twisted as Zalthor willed one of the clones to take on Nizara's appearance, mimicking even the smallest details.
Nizara's eyes widened in amazement. "You can do that?"
Zalthor smirked slightly. "It's a trick of mine. These clones can replicate basic movements and maintain the illusion long enough to fool anyone watching from a distance."
The shadow clones mounted the horses, taking the supplies as if they were heading straight into Thornshade. To any outsider, it would look like Nizara and Zalthor were simply making their delivery as planned.
Zalthor watched the clones disappear down the path before turning to Nizara. "While they serve as decoys, we'll circle around and investigate the real threat—the bandits."
Nizara nodded, realizing Zalthor's plan was both clever and efficient. They moved silently through the dense underbrush, slipping away from the main road and into the forest surrounding the village. The air grew thick with tension as they prepared for the true mission: uncovering and dealing with the bandits who had been terrorizing the area.
As Nizara and Zalthor carefully navigated through the dense forest, their eyes scanned the surroundings, catching glimpses of rudimentary traps hidden among the leaves and branches. A barely concealed snare here, a pitfall covered by loose foliage there—each trap indicated they were closing in on hostile territory. The air grew tense, and both of them could sense that something wasn't right.
Suddenly, the stillness was shattered by the sound of rustling leaves, and before they could react, two rough-looking men emerged from the shadows, knives gleaming in the low light. In a flash, the blades were pressed dangerously close to Nizara and Zalthor's throats.
"Not another step," one of the bandits snarled. "Unless you're looking to get yourselves killed."
Nizara's heart raced, but before he could decide on his next move, Zalthor remained calm and turned his head slightly toward Nizara, unfazed by the threat. "Tell me, Nizara," Zalthor said smoothly, ignoring the knife at his throat. "You're good at combat, right?"
Nizara smirked, his confidence unwavering. "Good? I'm amazing."
Zalthor let out a small chuckle, his voice dripping with amusement. "Perfect," he said with a grin. "Now's the time to showcase that talent of yours."
With those words, the atmosphere changed. Nizara's eyes sharpened, and in an instant, he shifted into action, ready to demonstrate just how "amazing" he truly was.
Nizara's eyes narrowed as he readied himself, assessing the bandits' every twitch. The forest air grew dense, as if holding its breath in anticipation of the impending clash.
One of the bandits, confident that the knife would keep Nizara in check, sneered and leaned in closer. "What's so funny, kid? Do you think we're playing a game?"
Before the bandit could blink, Nizara's hand shot up like a blur, grabbing the man's wrist in a vice-like grip. With a swift twist, he disarmed him, the knife spinning harmlessly into the air. In the same motion, Nizara delivered a spinning kick that sent the bandit crashing into a nearby tree, knocking the wind out of him.
The second bandit, wide-eyed and rattled by the speed and precision of Nizara's movements, panicked and lunged at Zalthor, aiming to plunge his knife into his side. But Zalthor was unbothered, his cold demeanor unshaken. In a single fluid motion, he sidestepped the attack with almost unnatural grace and struck the bandit's pressure points with lightning-fast jabs. The man collapsed to his knees, his body paralyzed.
Meanwhile, the first bandit had managed to stagger back to his feet, fury in his eyes. He lunged at Nizara, swinging wildly with a second hidden blade. Nizara's instincts kicked in as he activated Swiftstride, his body moving with a blur of speed. With effortless finesse, he dodged each slash, appearing as nothing more than a flicker in the bandit's vision.
"Too slow," Nizara muttered, a playful grin tugging at his lips. He darted behind the bandit in a blink, delivering a powerful strike to the back of his neck. The bandit crumpled to the ground, completely unconscious.
Zalthor watched with an approving nod, though his eyes remained calculating. "Impressive, Nizara," he commented, his voice steady as he observed the scene. "You weren't exaggerating about your combat skills."
Nizara took a breath, the thrill of the quick encounter still rushing through him. "I told you I'm amazing," he replied, but his mind was already back in focus.
Zalthor's gaze shifted to the dense forest ahead, where more danger undoubtedly lurked. "This was just a taste. If these weaklings are scouting here, the main group won't be far. Let's keep moving—quietly this time."
Nizara nodded, his senses on high alert as they pushed deeper into enemy territory. He knew this was only the beginning, but for now, he had proven that he wasn't someone to be underestimated. The real challenge awaited just beyond the shadows.
The forest's silence thickened with every step they took. The faint rustling of leaves and distant chirping of insects were the only sounds piercing the dense night. Nizara and Zalthor moved cautiously, their eyes scanning every shadow and every rustle in the underbrush.
Suddenly, a low whistle echoed from deep within the forest, followed by the creak of drawn bowstrings. Nizara's instincts sharpened as he exchanged a tense glance with Zalthor. They were no longer alone.
"Ambush," Zalthor muttered, his voice tinged with more anticipation than fear. "We're surrounded."
The darkness around them stirred. Silhouettes emerged from the trees like predators closing in. A dozen figures, armed and poised, encircled them, cutting off all routes of escape. Their eyes gleamed with malice, weapons ready for bloodshed.
Nizara's grip tightened on his sword, his pulse quickening. "Looks like they've been expecting us."
A gruff voice pierced through the tense air as the leader of the bandits stepped forward, his twisted grin revealing yellowed teeth. "You two picked the wrong forest to stroll through. Drop your weapons, and maybe we'll let you live."
Zalthor's cold gaze remained steady. "I doubt that."
Without warning, the bandit leader raised his hand, and chaos erupted. Arrows flew through the air like a deadly rain, blades gleaming as they swung toward Nizara and Zalthor.
But Nizara was already moving. Activating Swiftstride, he became a blur, darting between attackers with lightning speed. He ducked under a sword swing, spun around, and countered with a swift, precise strike that sent his assailant sprawling to the ground. His movements were fluid, each step a blend of grace and deadly intent. ThunderBlade crackled to life in his hands, the electricity humming as it arced through the air with each swing.
Zalthor was no less impressive. With a flick of his hand, he deflected incoming arrows with shadowy barriers that materialized in an instant. His fighting style was elegant yet ruthless, every strike measured and calculated. When a bandit lunged at him with a dagger, Zalthor sidestepped effortlessly and delivered a brutal elbow to the attacker's throat, following up with a slash that brought him down.
The bandits quickly realized they were dealing with opponents far beyond their expectations. But instead of retreating, they doubled down. From hidden nooks in the trees, more bandits poured in, surrounding the two on all sides.
Nizara's eyes flicked to Zalthor. "They're trying to swarm us."
Zalthor's smirk barely hid his excitement. "Let them try."
Just then, the forest itself seemed to turn against them. Roots and vines burst from the ground, snaring Nizara's legs. In an instant, he severed them with a flick of ThunderBlade, his eyes blazing with determination. He leaped high, avoiding a trap that triggered spikes from the ground, and landed directly in front of two bandits. Before they could react, Nizara unleashed a rapid series of strikes, leaving them crumpled on the ground.
Zalthor, meanwhile, manipulated shadows to take on physical forms. Tendrils of darkness lashed out like whips, disarming bandits and choking them into submission. But as more enemies closed in, Zalthor nodded toward Nizara. "Ready for a real display?"
Nizara met his gaze, a grin tugging at his lips. "Always."
With a burst of energy, Nizara unleashed ThunderBlade V2, sending a shockwave rippling outward. The sheer force sent several bandits flying, their weapons clattering uselessly to the ground. Zalthor followed up by summoning shadow clones, each clone moving in perfect synchronization with him as they tore through the remaining attackers. In seconds, the battlefield was littered with groaning, incapacitated bandits.
Just as they thought they had the upper hand, the ground beneath them trembled. An enormous figure, much larger and more armored than the others, emerged from the shadows—a brute of a man wielding a spiked hammer. He let out a bellowing roar as he charged at Nizara.
Nizara readied himself, gripping his blade tight. The brute swung down with enough force to crack the earth, but Nizara dodged to the side at the last second, then countered with a sweeping strike enhanced with Swiftstride. Sparks flew as the blade clashed against the brute's armor, but this time, Nizara wasn't fast enough—the brute's backhand knocked him to the ground.
Before the brute could land a finishing blow, Zalthor's shadows coiled around his arms, holding him in place just long enough for Nizara to recover. With a surge of resolve, Nizara leapt into the air, ThunderBlade blazing with power. He drove his blade straight down into the brute's chest, piercing through the armor and ending the battle in one decisive blow.
Breathing heavily, Nizara and Zalthor looked at each other, an unspoken understanding passing between them. This mission was only beginning, and they both knew things were about to get much more intense.
As the night air settled, a chilling silence lingered, promising even greater challenges ahead.
*To Be Continued…*
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