Chapter 15: The Hunt Begins

The tension in the air was palpable as Squad 7 entered the bustling Jobs Hall. The large stone building was filled with recruits from various squads, all eager to prove their worth and earn merit points. The walls were lined with job boards, each brimming with posted missions ranging from simple courier tasks to more dangerous hunts. The excitement of impending action hung thick in the air.

Rylan, the squad leader of Squad 7, strode confidently ahead of his team, his sharp eyes scanning the available jobs. Ethan, Garret, Elijah, and the rest of the squad followed closely, their expressions a mix of anticipation and determination. This was their chance to show what they were made of.

"We're getting close to finishing our basic course," Rylan began, addressing his team as they gathered around one of the job boards. "We need to pick a mission that'll not only earn us points but also prove we're ready for what's next."

Garret leaned in closer, his eyes narrowing at the list of options. "Courier jobs aren't going to cut it," he muttered. "We need something that'll challenge us."

Elijah nodded in agreement, his telekinetic abilities giving him a quiet confidence. "Something that'll push us to our limits."

Ethan's gaze flicked across the jobs, his thoughts briefly drifting to the shades lurking within his shadow. He had been careful not to use them in front of anyone outside of Squad 7, but the events with Cassandra's squad had made it clear that he couldn't hide forever. He needed to grow stronger, and he needed his squad to be strong as well.

"Here," Rylan said, tapping a job notice pinned to the board. The parchment was old and worn, but the message was clear: Hunt down deserters. The reward was a significant number of merit points, enough to give them a good standing in the academy.

"Deserters?" Garret echoed, raising an eyebrow. "That's serious business."

Rylan nodded. "Exactly. It's a real test. If we can handle this, it'll prove we're ready for the tougher challenges ahead."

Ethan studied the mission details carefully. The deserters were said to be hiding in the dense forests on the outskirts of the kingdom, evading the mandatory draft for the ongoing war. These weren't ordinary civilians—they were trained, capable fighters who had chosen to abandon their duty. The mission was dangerous, but it was exactly what they needed to prove themselves.

"What do you think?" Rylan asked, looking around at his squad. There was no hesitation in his voice, but he valued their input.

"We can do it," Elijah said, his voice steady. "We're ready."

Garret cracked his knuckles. "Let's show them what Squad 7 is made of."

Ethan nodded, a determined gleam in his eye. "Let's take them down."

Rylan smiled, a rare expression from the usually stoic leader. "Alright, it's settled. We're taking the mission. Let's gear up and get ready to move out."

The squad dispersed to gather their equipment, each member feeling the weight of the upcoming task. This mission wasn't just about the merit points—it was about proving their worth, to themselves and to the academy. For Ethan, it was also about learning to balance his power and protect his secrets while standing alongside his team.

As they prepared to leave the Jobs Hall, the reality of the situation settled in. This wouldn't be a simple training exercise. The deserters they were hunting were dangerous, possibly even desperate. But Squad 7 was ready. They had trained hard, and now it was time to put that training to the test.

Rylan led the way out of the hall, Squad 7 close behind him. The hunt had begun, and there was no turning back.

The air was heavy with tension as Squad 7 made their way to the nearby settlement of Duskmire, where they had been tasked with hunting down deserters. Rylan, the leader of Squad 7, marched at the front, his gaze set on the path ahead. The squad moved in silence, each member lost in their thoughts, knowing that the mission ahead was not just about combat but about executing their own countrymen—deserters who had fled their duty during wartime.

As they approached the outskirts of Duskmire, Rylan called for a halt and turned to face the squad. "Alright, listen up," he began, his voice firm and commanding. "We'll be splitting into three teams for this mission. Team one will be me, Kael, Zara, and Mira. Team two will be Lyra, Cyrus, Jade, and Rowan. Ethan, Elijah, and Garret, you'll be team three."

The members of Squad 7 exchanged glances but remained silent. They knew Rylan's decisions were final, and there was no room for debate.

"Our goal is to gather information in Duskmire about the deserters' whereabouts," Rylan continued. "Once we have enough intel, we'll split up and track them down. These men are criminals, and it's wartime. We're not here to take prisoners. This is a field execution. No mercy."

Ethan felt a chill run down his spine. He'd known from the start that this mission would be different from the others, but hearing the words "field execution" made it all the more real. He glanced at Elijah and Garret, who were both wearing similarly grim expressions. This wasn't just a training exercise anymore; it was life or death.

As they continued their march toward Duskmire, Ethan couldn't shake the feeling of unease that had settled in his gut. The shades in his shadow seemed to sense his tension, their presence comforting yet foreboding. He knew that he could rely on them, but he also knew that using them meant revealing his true abilities—something he wasn't ready to do just yet.

When they arrived at Duskmire, the settlement was quiet, almost eerily so. The sun was beginning to set, casting long shadows over the narrow streets. Rylan motioned for the squad to spread out, each team heading in a different direction to gather whatever information they could.

Ethan, Elijah, and Garret stuck close together as they made their way through the settlement. The villagers they encountered were wary, their eyes filled with suspicion and fear. It was clear that the deserters had left a mark on the community, and the villagers were reluctant to speak of them.

After what felt like hours of questioning, the three of them regrouped in a secluded alleyway. Garret leaned against the wall, frustration evident on his face. "This is getting us nowhere," he muttered. "Everyone's too scared to talk."

Elijah nodded in agreement. "They know something, but they're too afraid to say it. We need to find another way to get them to talk."

Ethan remained silent, his mind racing. He knew that if they didn't get the information they needed, the mission would be a failure. And failure was not an option. Not with lives on the line.

"Maybe we should split up," he suggested quietly. "Cover more ground. If we can find even one person willing to talk, it could make all the difference."

Garret and Elijah exchanged glances before nodding in agreement. "Alright," Garret said. "But stay close. We don't want to get separated too far from each other."

With that, the three of them went their separate ways, each determined to find the information they needed. As Ethan moved through the shadowy streets, his thoughts drifted to the shades in his shadow. He knew that he could use them to help in the search, but the risk of being discovered was too great.

Hours passed, and the sun had long since disappeared below the horizon. Ethan found himself standing at the edge of Duskmire, his frustration mounting. They hadn't found anything useful, and time was running out.

Just as he was about to turn back, he heard a faint rustling sound coming from the nearby woods. Instinctively, he reached for the dagger at his side, his senses on high alert. Moving cautiously, he stepped into the shadows, allowing them to envelop him as he made his way toward the source of the noise.

As he approached, he could make out the figures of several men huddled together, speaking in hushed tones. His heart pounded in his chest as he realized they were the deserters they had been searching for.

Without a moment's hesitation, he sent a mental command to his shades. One of them slipped silently from his shadow, moving closer to the group to listen in on their conversation. The other shade remained close to Ethan, ready to strike if needed.

As the shade relayed the deserters' words back to him, Ethan's mind raced. This was it—the information they needed. But he couldn't take them all on alone. He needed to regroup with Elijah and Garret, and quickly.

With a final glance at the deserters, Ethan melted back into the shadows, moving swiftly and silently back to the meeting point. As he arrived, he found Elijah and Garret already waiting, both of them looking equally tense.

"I found them," Ethan whispered, his voice barely audible. "They're just outside the settlement, in the woods. We need to get back to Rylan and the others. Now."

The three of them wasted no time, moving quickly through the darkened streets to find the rest of Squad 7. The hunt was on, and there would be no mercy.

Ethan, Elijah, and Garret raced through the night, the urgency of their mission driving them forward. The shadows clung to them like old friends, obscuring their movements as they made their way back to the rendezvous point. When they arrived, Rylan and the rest of Squad 7 were already waiting, their expressions tense and expectant.

"We found them," Ethan reported breathlessly, pointing in the direction of the woods. "They're hiding just outside the settlement. There are at least six of them."

Rylan nodded, his expression unreadable. "Good work. We'll move in now before they have a chance to slip away. Remember the orders—no mercy. These deserters have chosen their fate."

The squad split up once more, moving silently through the darkened streets of Duskmire. Ethan could feel the adrenaline coursing through his veins as they approached the woods, his senses heightened and alert. He knew this was no ordinary mission; this was an execution, and there would be no room for hesitation.

As they neared the edge of the woods, Rylan signaled for the squad to halt. He turned to Ethan, Elijah, and Garret, his gaze steady. "You three will take the lead. Get in close and flush them out. We'll be right behind you."

Ethan nodded, his jaw set in determination. This was it—the moment he had been preparing for. He drew his dagger, the cold steel glinting in the moonlight, and led the way into the woods.

The forest was eerily silent, the only sounds being the crunch of leaves underfoot and the occasional rustle of branches. Ethan could feel his heart pounding in his chest as they moved deeper into the trees, every nerve in his body on high alert. His shades slithered through the darkness, their presence comforting as they scouted ahead.

As they closed in on the deserters' hiding spot, Ethan raised a hand to signal the others to stop. He crouched low, peering through the underbrush to get a better look. The deserters were huddled together, weapons drawn and eyes darting nervously around them. They were clearly on edge, aware that they were being hunted.

Ethan sent a silent command to his shades, and one of them moved forward, slipping into the shadows behind the deserters. The other shade remained with him, ready to strike at a moment's notice.

With a nod to Elijah and Garret, Ethan stepped forward, his dagger at the ready. The element of surprise was on their side, and they needed to act quickly. He moved with the stealth and precision he had honed through countless hours of training, closing the distance between himself and the nearest deserter.

In a flash, Ethan struck. His dagger plunged into the man's back, silencing him before he could even cry out. The other deserters spun around, panic flaring in their eyes as they realized they were under attack.

Elijah and Garret moved in swiftly, their own powers coming into play. Garret amplified the gravity around one of the deserters, pinning him to the ground with a force he couldn't resist. Elijah used his telekinesis to disarm another, sending the man's sword flying into the trees.

The deserters fought back, but they were no match for the well-trained squad. Rylan and the others descended on them like a storm, their swords flashing in the moonlight as they cut down the remaining deserters with ruthless efficiency.

Ethan's shades struck with lethal precision, their shadowy forms wrapping around the deserters and draining their life force before they could even react. The battle was swift and brutal, ending as quickly as it had begun.

When the last deserter fell, the forest was once again silent, the only sound being the labored breathing of Squad 7. Ethan stood amidst the bodies, his dagger still clutched in his hand, his mind reeling from the violence he had just unleashed. This was no ordinary mission; this was war.

Rylan stepped forward, his expression grim as he surveyed the carnage. "Good work, everyone," he said quietly. "The mission is complete."

Ethan nodded, but he felt a heaviness in his chest that he couldn't shake. The weight of what they had done hung over him like a dark cloud, and he knew that this was only the beginning. There would be more missions, more executions, and more bloodshed. But this was the path he had chosen, and he would see it through to the end.

As they made their way back to Duskmire, Ethan couldn't help but glance back at the bodies they left behind. The shades slipped back into his shadow, their task complete, but the memory of their actions lingered in his mind.

This was the reality of the world he lived in—a world where magic and violence intertwined, where mercy was a luxury they couldn't afford. And as much as it pained him, Ethan knew he would do whatever it took to survive.