Stay true to yourself. Damn oath.
The carriage jolted over the uneven road, the dull rhythm of wheels against stone echoing the turmoil gnawing at Kael's chest. Around him, a handful of soldiers rode on horseback, their eyes sharp and silent, while a dozen more marched steadily behind.
Chosen to swear the oath—the most noble thing that can happen to you. Becoming a mage.
That's what they said. What I was supposed to feel.
Now they assign me a role in the middle of nowhere, so they won't have to spend resources on me.
Chosen by the oath, huh?
Why do I feel like I got scammed?
But after a year of dead ends and false starts, stuck chasing power that never came, all I feel is... nothing.
At least I got my ice.
From a distance came the pounding hooves of horses rushing toward them.
The carriage came to a stop, wheels scraping against the rocky path. A firm knock came at the door.
"Baron," a soldier's voice called from outside. "Scouts reported a pack of Dire wolves on the path ahead.
Kael's fingers clenched the edge of the carriage seat until his nails dug into the wood. His voice was calm, steady. "Defensive formation."
Outside, the soldiers began to stir. Horses were shifted behind the carriage, their nervous snorts betraying a sense of the danger closing in. Spears were raised, forming a tight semicircle in front of the carriage, their long shafts creating an unbreakable wall. Behind them, swordsmen stood ready, blades gleaming in the fading light, and archers, bows in hand, eyes sharp and focused.
Kael swung open the carriage door, boots crunching against the uneven ground beneath. A cold wind bit against his skin, sharpening his senses even as his heart hammered against his ribs, a wild, unrelenting drum. But his face remained calm.
Just a few wolves. How hard could it be? Maybe if they'd given me combat training, it'd be easier… but all I got was oath guidance.
A low growl rippled through the trees, a harsh, guttural warning that sent a shiver down the soldiers' spines. Shadows shifted between the trees as a pack of Dire wolves emerged into the clearing. Their fur bristled like frozen steel, eyes burning with feral hunger and intelligence beyond ordinary beasts.
They moved as one — silent, swift, deadly. Muscles coiled beneath thick hides, claws scraping the rocky earth with chilling precision. Their snarls echoed in the cold air,
Kael's breath hitched, a cold knot tightening in his chest. He forced his jaw tight.
Six wolves, and they are a lot bigger than I expected. No way to bluff this one. Just keep calm.. keep calm.
The wolves charged like shadows, teeth bared and eyes blazing with hunger.
A whistle of bowstrings cut through the air. Arrows streaked forward, thudding into fur and flesh — three finding their mark in a single beast, sending it tumbling with a pained yelp.
"Brace!" Kael barked, doubt flickering behind his steady voice.
The spearmen planted the backs of their spears firmly on the ground, blades leveled at neck height.
He raised his hand, fingers curling. Concentrating hard, he summoned ice from the moisture in the air, letting it coil and spread across the ground just ahead of the spearmen.
Just before the wolves could reach that spot, the icy surface solidified beneath their paws. Two wolves stumbled, their claws slipping on the sudden frost. They crashed down hard, right into the waiting spears.
Kael blinked once.
Huh. That… worked better than I thought.
The swordsmen surged forward, blades flashing in the fading light. With precise, merciless strikes, they slit the throats of the wolves skewered on the spears, ending their snarls in wet, choking silence.
Three more, focus.
The rest of the wolves hesitated, their charge faltering. They fanned out, pacing in a wide arc around the formation, hackles raised and eyes darting between the soldiers. Low growls rolled through the air like distant thunder as they searched for an opening.
What? They're… making this more manageable. His mind raced. If I take one, and the archers hit the other… we survive.
He glanced at the archers to his right, catching them already nocking their arrows, watching the wolf on the right. Good.
Kael shifted his stance, eyes locking on the wolf circling to the right. He extended his hand, fingers steady, pulling at the thin veil of moisture in the air. The cold gathered at his call, invisible until the moment it bit.
Just as the archers drew to release, frost snapped into being around the wolf's legs, jagged bands locking it in place..
It thrashed violently on the ground, claws scraping uselessly, before the arrows found their mark. Its snarls fractured into ragged gasps, eyes glassing over as the light dimmed, each movement grew weaker, its snarls fading as life bled out of its eyes.
Two more.
Before the other wolves could react, Kael summoned the cold with sharp precision. Frost swirled and hardened in the air before him, condensing into a jagged spear of ice. With a snap of his arm, he hurled it at the wolf to his left — the closest threat.
The wolf lunged, muscles coiling to dodge the incoming spear. It twisted sharply to the side—too sharply. The jagged ice grazed its leg.
The beast yelped, stumbling, but it did not fall.
Missed damn it.
Kael's heart hammered. He glanced back at the archers, and they were almost ready to release.
The wolf in the center lunged straight at the spearman.
Kael's mind raced.
I could bind the leg of the grazed wolf and let the archers finish it off. Or I could try to help the spearman face down this charge.
What to do...
Time slowed, every heartbeat loud in his ears. No room for hesitation.
He focused on the center wolf, pulling the moisture from the air tighter and tighter. A thin but solid wall of ice erupted just inches ahead of the wolf, catching its legs before it could reach the spearman.
The beast stumbled, claws scraping uselessly against the frozen barrier. The spearman didn't hesitate, raising his spear with steady hands, he drove it deep into the wolf's side. Then the others joined him.
One more left, we can do it!
Just as Kael held his breath, the archers released their arrows. The wolf lunged forward, attempting to dodge the deadly hail, but its grazed leg betrayed it, keeping it from leaping far enough.
Two arrows struck true, sinking deep into its thick fur and flesh. The beast stumbled, growling in pain, its charge faltering.
Kael's eyes swept the battlefield, four of the beasts lay still, their lifeless forms sprawled across the dirt. Two were alive, breath ragged, bodies broken but alive.
"Charge!" he barked, his voice cutting through the cold air.
The spearmen surged forward, boots pounding the earth, spears leveled like the fangs. They drove their points into the wounded wolves without hesitation, each thrust precise and unyielding. Behind them, the swordsmen hung back just outside reach, letting the spears do the work.
The last wolf fell, its body thudding against the earth. Silence dropped over the clearing like a heavy cloak, broken only by ragged breaths.
Kael's legs trembled slightly, adrenaline draining. He wiped a bead of sweat from his brow despite the cold, his mind spinning.
I did it.
He let out the breath he didn't know he was holding, the cold air rushing past his lips. The forest was still again, except for the wet sound of steel being pulled from flesh and the heavy breathing of men.
Cold sweat trickled down his cheek, and a sharp headache throbbed behind his eyes, signs of mana exhaustion.
Around him, the tension snapped, replaced by the low rumble of laughter and relief. Spears thudded against the ground, and blades were wiped clean on tufts of grass. Someone clapped another man on the shoulder, the two of them grinning like boys fresh from mischief.
A spearman stepped forward, the grin still on his face, but when he spoke, it was all clipped formality. "Orders, Baron?"
Kael gave a small, tired smile. At least they listen to me. It could be worse.
They even made me a noble. Baron Kael. He tasted the title in his mind like something spoiled. Guess it sounds better than "mage with no future." Maybe it's easier to forget about me if I'm a lord in the middle of nowhere.
He straightened his back. "Harvest the pelts and prepare camp."
"Yes, sir." The man gave the smallest nod before turning sharply, passing the order down the line.
When he left, Kael was finally able to take a deep breath.
That was scary. And I'm out of mana. Lucky, the soldiers aren't useless. They stayed calmer than I did. Hah, maybe I'm the useless one.
Enough mana for four spells, how generous of the oath.
Going back to the carriage, he gritted his teeth.
Maybe I shouldn't have sworn that damn oath. What does it even mean, 'Stay true to yourself'?