The night was filled with the scent of blood and burning wood. Aiden stood at the center of it all, his body trembling—not from fear, but from the sheer power surging within him. His senses felt heightened, his vision sharper, his body lighter.
The three mercenaries, killers ranked within the top 150,000, had gone from predators to cautious hunters.
"This brat… what the hell just happened?" one of them muttered.
The leader, the tallest of the three, cracked his neck. His expression darkened. "Tch. No matter. He's just awakened. That power is unstable. We finish this now."
Aiden didn't wait. He moved first.
His foot grazed the ground—wind surged beneath him. He shot forward like an arrow, leaving a trail of dust as he closed the gap in an instant.
The first mercenary barely had time to react.
Aiden twisted his wrist—a surge of water spiraled around his hand before he slammed it into the man's gut. The impact forced the air from his lungs, and before he could stagger back, Aiden clenched his fingers—freezing the water solid.
Ice shackled the man's torso, locking him in place.
"Shit—"
CRACK!
Aiden twisted his body, fire bursting from his other palm, shattering the ice and sending the mercenary flying back in a trail of steam.
The second mercenary lunged from behind, his sword gleaming under the moonlight.
Too slow.
Aiden barely turned his head, raising a hand—the blade struck a wall of hardened air. The mercenary's eyes widened as his attack bounced off, his balance faltering.
Aiden flicked his fingers—the wind compressed into a focused burst.
BOOM!
The shockwave hurled the attacker back, sending him tumbling across the dirt.
The leader of the mercenaries growled, rais/-ing his arm. His veins pulsed with mana.
"You're not the only one with magic, kid."
His muscles bulged as dark tendrils of energy coiled around his fist. The very air seemed to grow heavier.
Aiden's eyes narrowed. He raised his arm, his own mana surging.
Lightning crackled.
The leader vanished. His speed suddenly doubled as he lunged at Aiden, his fist rearing back.
Aiden stomped the ground—earth shifted beneath him. A stone pillar erupted, slamming into the mercenary's ribs, but the man twisted mid-air, dodging just in time.
Aiden gritted his teeth. He wasn't fast enough.
BOOM!
A heavy fist crashed into Aiden's side. The force sent him skidding back, his feet digging into the dirt. Pain exploded through his ribs, but he clenched his jaw.
He didn't have brute strength—but he had magic.
The moment he stabilized, Aiden exhaled—a sudden gust of freezing wind surged outward.
The mercenary shivered as a thin layer of frost began to creep up his legs.
"Damn brat—"
Aiden thrust his hands forward.
The frost shattered—exploding into a burst of ice shards. The mercenary shielded his face, but Aiden had already moved—lightning sparked at his fingertips.
CRACK!
The bolt struck the mercenary's chest. His body convulsed as the electricity coursed through him, sending him stumbling back.
Aiden didn't stop.
He clenched his fists—flames erupted around him.
The remaining two mercenaries barely had time to react before fire and wind fused into a blazing inferno, roaring toward them.
They dodged, barely escaping the blast—but Aiden was already predicting their movements.
He twisted his palm—earth surged upward, forming jagged spikes in their path.
"Guh—!"
The first mercenary tripped, his leg getting caught on a rising stone pillar.
Aiden flicked his fingers—lightning snaked through the stone, shocking the man unconscious.
The second mercenary roared in frustration, swinging his sword in a desperate attempt.
Aiden dodged effortlessly—his movements guided by the wind.
He inhaled—his mana surged.
And then, he whispered:
"Freeze."
The temperature plummeted.
The mercenary gasped as his sword froze mid-swing, his limbs locking in place as frost crawled up his skin.
Aiden flicked his wrist.
A sharp gust of wind followed—slamming the frozen mercenary into a nearby tree.
THUD.
Silence.
Aiden exhaled, his body trembling slightly. His power was draining him fast.
But… he had won.
Leon and Xaleth stared in shock.
Leon let out a low whistle. "Well… that was something."
Xaleth crossed his arms, his eyes unreadable. "You almost lost back there."
Aiden wiped the sweat from his brow, finally catching his breath.
"I know."
But before anyone could relax—
A weak groan came from behind them.
Aiden's stomach dropped.
He turned, his breath catching in his throat.
Elara.
She was pale, blood dripping from her shoulder, her breathing shallow.
"E-Elara!" Aiden rushed to her, kneeling beside her.
She gave him a small smile. "You… took your time…"
Aiden clenched his fists. He felt helpless all over again.
His awakening had been powerful—but it hadn't been enough to protect her.
His jaw tightened.
This wasn't enough.
He needed to be stronger.
As the cold night settled, Aiden stared at his hands, determination burning in his eyes.
This was only the beginning.
The battlefield had fallen into silence. The scent of blood and burnt earth still lingered in the air as Aiden stood amidst the wreckage, his body trembling—not from fear, but from exhaustion. His breathing was ragged, his limbs heavy, and the storm of power that had once surged within him was now nothing more than a fading ember.
The bandits lay scattered around, unconscious or dead, but Aiden could barely process it. His mind was still reeling from the unfamiliar sensation of wielding such power—of calling upon the elements themselves. Fire, wind, earth… they had obeyed him, moved with his will. But now, as he tried to grasp at that feeling again, to summon even a spark, there was nothing.
Gone.
His fingers clenched into fists. Why? He had done it just moments ago. The power had coursed through him like a raging river, unstoppable, undeniable. And now it was as if it had never been there at all.
"Aiden…"
His breath hitched at the weak voice. Elara.
He spun around, rushing to her side. She was still on the ground, her body battered, blood staining her clothes. She had fought until she had nothing left, shielding them, enduring the torment of those assassins until the very end.
"Elara, stay with me," Aiden murmured, pressing a hand against her wound, trying to stop the bleeding. "Help is coming, okay?"
She let out a weak chuckle, her eyes fluttering open. "You… really went all out, huh?"
Aiden didn't respond. His hands were shaking. His power had awakened too late—only after she had been hurt. Only after she had nearly died.
"I was useless," he muttered.
"You weren't." Elara's fingers brushed against his wrist, her grip weak but firm. "You saved us, Aiden…"
He clenched his jaw, but before he could say anything more, the distant sound of galloping horses broke through the quiet.
Reinforcements.
Within moments, armored figures emerged from the trees, knights bearing the crest of the capital. Their leader—a tall man with silver-plated armor and a sharp gaze—dismounted first, scanning the battlefield before his eyes landed on Aiden's team.
"So, it was true," the knight murmured, stepping forward. "We received intelligence about high-level killers on the loose near this route… We rushed here as soon as we could." His gaze swept over the fallen enemies before resting on Aiden. There was a strange look in his eyes—one that Aiden couldn't quite decipher.
The knight crouched beside him, inspecting Elara's wounds before glancing at the others. "Get the medics here. Now."
Several knights rushed forward, tending to Elara and the rest of the team. Aiden sat there, unmoving, still trying to process everything.
The power he had felt. The power that had saved them.
And yet, now that the danger was gone, it was as if it had never been there in the first place.
A few hours later, they were back at the university, receiving treatment and debriefing. Aiden sat silently, bandages wrapped around his arms, his thoughts swirling.
"Something wrong?" Xaleth asked, standing beside him, arms crossed.
"I… can't use it," Aiden admitted.
"Use what?"
"The power. It's gone."
Leon scoffed. "Gone? After what you pulled back there?"
Aiden shook his head. "I tried again. Nothing happened."
Silence.
"…Tch." Leon looked away, but Aiden caught the faintest trace of concern in his expression.
Xaleth narrowed his eyes. "Then what triggered it in the first place?"
Aiden hesitated before answering. "Adrenaline. When I saw Elara…"
His hands clenched into fists.
So that was it. It wasn't something he could just summon at will. It had come out in a moment of desperation, a moment of raw emotion. Without that trigger, it was useless to him.
The realization stung.
"I need to find a way to control it," he muttered. "To use it whenever I need to."
Leon sighed. "Then find one."
Xaleth tilted his head. "You said it was elemental magic, right? Maybe you need something to channel it through."
Aiden looked up.
"A catalyst," Xaleth continued. "Some mages need a medium to control their magic. Maybe that's the case for you too."
Leon raised an eyebrow. "A sword, maybe?"
Aiden exhaled, the idea clicking in his mind.
A sword… a weapon to channel his mana…
That could work.
He looked down at his hands, determination settling into his gaze.
If he couldn't call upon his power freely, then he would find a way to change that.
No matter what it took.