Warrior Training System

Cassian gasped in shock, "What just happened?" as he stepped out from the wreckage of the carriage, which was partially destroyed with the top completely gone.

While helping Robert free himself from the debris that had trapped him, Cassian anxiously surveyed their surroundings. His heart raced when he noticed the headless body of the coachman slumped in the seat. "We need to hurry, Robert," he urged, pulling the man away from the wreckage and toward a nearby building, all the while conscious of the thick fog surrounding them.

Fortunately, they found shelter as Cassian, heart racing, ducked into an alley between the buildings. Cautiously peering out, he asked, "Hurt anywhere?"

"Just some scratches," Robert said, glancing at his leg which was trapped beneath the debris of the broken carriage. He turned to the alert Cassian, and asked, "What about you?"

"Fine," Cassian replied, his voice filled with anger. "Who the fuck attacked us, and what could they possibly gain from targeting two constables?"

"I don't know, but they are either mage attacking from a distance or rare long-range weapons user, Circle warrior. If that's the case, we are in serious danger," Robert said, scanning their surroundings and noting the eerie silence. The buildings they were hiding between appeared empty, with no sounds coming from inside. "At least it seems like they're in the early stages of their profession."

Cassian, facing an attack from either Ether Mages or Circle Warriors for the first time, was starting to grasp why people held them in such high regard—even those who were just beginning their journey. "I see people at the far end of the street, but they're not coming this way. Why?" he asked, gesturing toward the figures behind Robert.

"Do you know which side the attack came from?" Cassian added, knowing Robert had spotted it first.

Robert nodded and pointed behind Cassian, in the opposite direction of the figures. "From there."

Cassian frowned, feeling a bit frustrated. If they tried to run toward the people, they'd be exposed, leaving their backs vulnerable to the attackers.

Robert glanced over at Cassian, a mix of worry and determination on his face. "We don't have any other options," he said quietly. "I saw someone moving between the rooftops, jumping from building to building. They'll be parallel with us soon."

Cassian took a deep breath, calming his nerves. "Then let's run," he said, looking determined. The fog wrapped around them like a blanket as they broke into a sprint. Their footsteps echoed eerily on the empty streets, the mist making every shadow seem like a lurking threat.

The figure on the rooftops wasn't far off now, and Cassian could feel the tension building. "Keep your head down and move fast," Robert urged, his eyes darting between the rooftops and the path ahead.

As they ran, Cassian couldn't help but glance over his shoulder, half expecting an attack at any moment. But all he could see were the distant shapes of the fog-covered street and the faint outline of the figure following them from above, closing in.

Just as they picked up speed, something moved within the dense fog ahead of them. A faint whistle cut through the air, followed by a sudden, violent explosion of dirt and stone. A shockwave blasted right in front of Cassian, throwing him off his feet and sending him crashing hard against the ground.

Cassian's vision spun as he tried to make sense of what just happened. He blinked through the haze of dust and pain, his eyes locking onto the source of the explosion—a blade, about the length of an arm, sharp on both ends, lodged deep in the ground. The force of its impact had left a jagged crater a few feet wide, the weapon glowing faintly as it settled into the wreckage.

Cassian gulped, his heart pounding in his chest. "What the—?"
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Before he could finish, Robert yanked him up by the collar of his shirt, not caring if it hurt. His voice was sharp, panicked. "Fuck, run!" Robert's wide eyes mirrored Cassian's terror as they realized whoever was throwing weapons like that wasn't interested in scaring them—they were out to kill.

Cassian scrambled to his feet, adrenaline pumping as he and Robert raced down the street, desperate to escape the deadly, fog-cloaked figure chasing them. In their frantic dash, they overlooked the lack of alert from the figures at the end of the street.

Cassian and Robert sprinted through the fog, their breaths ragged as the chill of the night air cut through their lungs. The cobbled street beneath them blurred as panic fueled their steps, the eerie silence only broken by their hurried footsteps and the distant sounds of the city they couldn't reach.

Cassian glanced over his shoulder, eyes wide with fear as he searched for any sign of pursuit. The fog was thick, making it nearly impossible to see more than a few feet ahead, and the shadows that danced within it seemed alive, twisting unnervingly. Just as he turned back to focus on running, another high-pitched whistle sliced through the air. His stomach dropped.

"Move, move!" Robert yelled, his voice hoarse as he shoved Cassian to the side.

The warning came just in time. Another blade, identical to the one that had nearly killed Cassian earlier, tore through the fog, its speed almost unnatural. It slammed into the ground just inches from Robert's feet, sending a shockwave of force that blasted him off his feet. He crashed into the side of a nearby building with a sickening thud, grunting from the pain as bricks cracked under the impact.

"Robert!" Cassian shouted, skidding to a halt and turning toward his fallen comrade. His heart raced, but there was no time to hesitate. He pushed forward, limping as the adrenaline barely masked the sharp ache spreading through his leg from where the last blade had cut him.

The second he took another step, another blade whizzed through the air, too fast to dodge. It slashed through Cassian's thigh, the pain erupting instantly as the sharp edge dug deep, only a hair's breadth from slicing through bone. He cried out, his leg almost giving way beneath him, but he gritted his teeth and kept moving.

He couldn't stop now—not when they were so close to the end of the street, where safety might be waiting.

Blood soaked his pant leg, leaving a trail as he limped, but he pushed on. Robert, groaning from where he had fallen, struggled to get back on his feet. Cassian could hear him cursing under his breath, pain lacing his words. "Damn it… Cassian, go!"

Another whistling sound echoed behind them, and Cassian knew they didn't have time. His muscles screamed in protest, his leg nearly useless, but sheer determination kept him going. He reached out, grabbing Robert's arm as he pulled him to his feet.

"Get up! We're almost there!" Cassian panted, using the last of his strength to pull Robert to his feet.

Robert nodded, though pain etched across his face as he struggled to stand. To their surprise, they didn't face another attack until they reached the end of the street. Just as they stepped out, a blast erupted behind them, sending them sprawling into the bustling city street.

They stumbled into a world that felt vibrant and alive, contrasting sharply with the chaos they had just escaped. People stopped and stared, wide-eyed at the sight of two disheveled figures with bloodied clothes and dirt-covered faces.

As they turned to look back at the supposed steets they were running out from but only found the wall, both Cassian and Robert shared a shocked expression, as cassian checking the wall and finding it solid asked, "where did the steert go?"

Cassian began inspecting the walls around him, certain that a street had been there just moments ago—the one they had been fleeing from. Now, however, all that faced him was the solid wall of a building.

*****

A lanky, tall figure cloaked in dark attire stood shrouded in shadows, their face obscured except for piercing eyes that stared intently at a blurry screen displaying the two figures inspecting the blurry screen from outside.

The scene around this figure would have shocked Cassian and Robert, as it mirrored the foggy streets they had just escaped.

"Why did you deliberately miss them?" a voice inquired, carrying a distinctly feminine edge, making it clear that it didn't belong to the shrouded figure. The black fabric clung tightly to the man's physique, revealing his gender.

Emerging from the fog, the woman continued, her anger palpable. "If you had used my sphere, you could have at least killed them!"

The woman wore a large pointed hat that obscured most of her face, revealing only a hint of her lower mouth. Her skin was ashen white, while her lips were a stark red. The rest of her figure remained shrouded in fog, making it difficult to discern her features.

"The boss asked to deliver a message, and I think it's been delivered," the black-clad figure replied, his voice gruff.

"Killing one of them would have sent a stronger message," the woman snapped, her anger evident. With a frustrated grunt, she added, "At the very least, you should have severed one of their limbs."