Shadows In The Gauntlet

Elias remained perfectly still, his breath controlled as his senses stretched outward. The presence he had detected was closing in. It was subtle, carefully masked, but not enough to escape his awareness. Whoever it was, they weren't some reckless fool wandering the battlefield. They were a hunter—calculated, patient, and experienced.

A shift in the wind.

Elias reacted instantly, twisting his body to the side just as a dagger sliced through the air where his throat had been a second ago. The attack was precise, delivered with the intent to kill. His eyes locked onto the figure emerging from the shadows, their movements fluid, deliberate.

The opponent landed a few feet away, crouched low with a curved dagger glinting in the dim light. A smirk tugged at their lips.

"You're sharper than I expected," the voice was male, cool and confident. "I thought you'd be too exhausted to dodge properly."

Elias exhaled slowly, his stance tightening. He took in the details—lean but powerful build, dark armor fitted for speed and maneuverability, and the emblem on his chest. The insignia of the Drakewood Clan. Not a top-tier clan, but one with a strong reputation, particularly for their assassins and elite scouts.

"Drakewood," Elias murmured. "You lot don't usually operate so openly."

The assassin chuckled, twirling the dagger between his fingers. "Can't afford to in normal circumstances, but the Gauntlet isn't the real world. Here, we can be a little more… direct." He tilted his head. "Name's Kieran. And you?"

Elias didn't answer. There was no point. If Kieran had been observing the battlefield, he likely already knew who he was.

The smirk widened. "Ah, the quiet type. That's fine. I already know enough about you, Elias Raelith. You've been making quite the impression."

Elias' eyes narrowed. Kieran's tone carried something dangerous—amusement, but also calculation. He wasn't here for a casual skirmish.

"You're after my emblem," Elias stated.

Kieran chuckled, straightening. "Among other things. You see, I've already secured my position, but taking down someone like you? That would be a nice little bonus. The proctors are watching, after all. If I take out the guy who cleared a hidden objective and soloed one of the strongest monsters, my standing goes even higher."

Elias tightened his grip on his sword. His body was still aching, mana reserves running low. A direct confrontation would be risky, but Kieran was an assassin—he would dictate the battle's pace if Elias allowed it.

Kieran's fingers flexed. Then he vanished.

Elias barely had time to react before a shadow blurred toward him, dagger flashing. He twisted, parrying with his sword, but Kieran's speed was overwhelming. The assassin didn't rely on brute strength; he struck with precision, aiming for vital spots with an almost surgical level of accuracy.

Elias dodged, pivoted, countered—but Kieran flowed like water, evading and repositioning in an instant. It was a battle of endurance, and Elias was already on the back foot.

A whisper in the void. A warning.

Elias ducked just as another dagger sliced toward his side. Kieran clicked his tongue, impressed. "Good instincts. But how long can you keep up?"

Elias didn't answer. Instead, he adjusted his stance. Kieran was fast—too fast for him to trade blows with in his current state. But speed wasn't everything.

Kieran lunged again, and this time, Elias didn't retreat. He shifted forward, disrupting the rhythm of the attack. Their weapons clashed, but Elias angled his sword to redirect the force rather than meeting it head-on. Kieran staggered slightly, caught off-guard by the sudden shift.

Elias pressed the advantage. He feinted left, forcing Kieran to react, then twisted his grip and struck low. His blade nicked Kieran's arm, drawing first blood.

The assassin leapt back, glancing at the cut. Then he grinned. "Now that's interesting. You're not just dodging anymore."

Elias exhaled. "You rely on controlling the pace of the fight," he said. "You expect your opponent to be overwhelmed by your speed. But if I stop playing by your rules…"

Kieran's eyes gleamed. "Then it becomes a real fight."

Without warning, he threw a smoke bomb at the ground. The battlefield was instantly consumed in thick, swirling darkness. Elias tensed, senses stretching outward.

Silence. Then—a whisper of movement.

Elias shifted, sword angled defensively. A strike came from behind. He parried on instinct, but another attack followed from the side, forcing him to pivot. Kieran was weaving through the smoke, attacking from different angles, testing Elias' reactions.

Void whispered again.

Elias closed his eyes.

He wasn't going to win this by chasing shadows. He needed to end it in a single, decisive move.

He took a slow breath. Then he let go.

The smoke shifted, but Elias didn't focus on sight. He focused on everything else—the air's disturbance, the faintest ripple of mana, the tension in the atmosphere. His grip tightened around his sword.

Kieran struck.

Elias moved first.

He sidestepped the incoming blade, twisting just enough to avoid the lethal cut. His sword flashed in the dim light, aimed not at Kieran's body, but at the assassin's dominant hand.

A sharp clang echoed as the dagger was knocked from Kieran's grasp, sent spiraling into the dirt.

Before Kieran could react, Elias followed through with a second strike, stopping just inches from Kieran's throat.

Silence.

The smoke began to fade, revealing the two locked in place. Kieran's breathing was steady, but there was a new glint in his eyes—respect.

"…Huh." He exhaled a short laugh. "Didn't expect that."

Elias didn't lower his sword. "Are we done?"

Kieran held up his hands in surrender. "Alright, alright. No need to get stabby." He took a step back, rubbing his wrist where the blade had nearly cut. "You really don't go down easy, do you?"

Elias remained silent, watching him closely.

Then, to his surprise, Kieran grinned. "This was fun. I'll remember this." He retrieved his fallen dagger and sheathed it. "You're strong, Elias. Stronger than most here. But you're also running low. If you're smart, you'll get moving before someone else comes looking for a fight."

Elias didn't need the warning. He already knew.

Without another word, Kieran turned and disappeared into the trees, leaving Elias standing alone.

The fight was over.

But the Gauntlet wasn't.

Exhaling slowly, Elias steadied himself. There was no time to waste. The center of the battlefield awaited, and with it, the end of this brutal test.

He took one last glance in the direction Kieran had vanished.

Then he moved forward, toward the middle of the Gauntlet.