The sound of footsteps echoed through the crisp morning air as the group followed Lucas and Mira to the outskirts of Sedona City. The terrain here was a rugged patchwork of nature's contrasts: a desolate grove of withered trees, their skeletal branches clawing at the sky, and a stark expanse of rocky outcrops, jagged and unyielding. The ground was dusted with patches of snow, and the faint scent of damp earth and pine lingered, carried by a chilly breeze that tugged at Mira's dark wings.
"What do you think of this place?" Lucas asked, gesturing toward the landscape with a calm, almost indifferent air. "You can choose to hide in either the withered grove or the rocky forest for the disguise challenge."
Mira surveyed the area, her green eyes narrowing as she assessed her options. The terrain was perfect—complex and varied, offering countless nooks and crannies for concealment. "It's good," She said, nodding with satisfaction. The diversity of the landscape gave her an edge, more opportunities to showcase her skills as an assassin. 'This is my domain,' She thought, her confidence surging. 'I'll show them what I'm capable of.'
"War Wolf Squad, assemble!" Lucas's voice rang out, sharp and commanding.
In an instant, eight figures snapped into formation with military precision, their movements swift and synchronized. Their eyes gleamed with a predator's focus, each one exuding an aura of quiet menace. Mira's confidence faltered slightly, her lips tightening as she took in their disciplined stance. These weren't ordinary soldiers—there was something honed and dangerous about them, a sharpness that set her nerves on edge. 'Who are these people?' She wondered, her heart beating a little faster.
"These eight are my trainees," Lucas said, his tone as casual as if he were discussing the weather. "Pick one to compete against you."
Mira's eyes flicked over the squad, searching for a target. "Who's the best at disguise?" She asked, her voice steady despite the unease creeping into her chest. If she was going to win, she wanted to defeat the strongest opponent, to leave no room for Lucas to dismiss her victory with excuses.
"The best?" Lucas's brow furrowed, and he paused, as if considering the question carefully. "There's no 'best.' They've never competed against each other in this."
Mira's lips pursed, a flicker of irritation crossing her face. 'Clever noble,' She thought. 'Trying to dodge the question.' Refusing to let him outmaneuver her, she studied the squad again, her gaze settling on the second member—a tall, broad-shouldered man whose imposing frame seemed almost too large for subtlety. "Him," She said firmly, pointing at Number Two. 'Big guys aren't usually good at hiding,' She reasoned. 'This should be easy.'
Lucas raised an eyebrow, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Interesting choice," He said, his tone laced with amusement. Did she think Number Two's size made him less adept at concealment? He kept his thoughts to himself, simply nodding. "Very well."
"Who goes first?" Mira asked, her voice cool and detached, though her mind was already racing through strategies.
"You go first," Lucas replied, pulling a small hourglass from his pocket. The sand inside gleamed faintly in the morning light, promising a ten-minute window. "When the sand runs out, that's the time limit for finding you." His decision to let her hide first wasn't out of courtesy—it was calculated. He wanted her defeat to be undeniable, leaving no room for her to claim unfairness.
"Fine," Mira said, her tone clipped. She caught Amelia's gaze for a brief moment, a silent promise flashing in her eyes: 'I'll prove myself.' With a determined stride, she headed toward the rocky forest, her mind already mapping out her plan. She would weave through the rocks, then double back to the withered grove, using the terrain to her advantage. 'They'll see what a real assassin can do,' She thought, her wings twitching with anticipation.
Mina leaned close to Lucas, her cat ears twitching as she whispered, "Master, let me take her on. I'd love to knock her down a peg." Her voice was laced with mischief, her eyes glinting with eagerness.
Lucas shook his head, his expression calm but resolute. "No need. She's no match for the War Wolf Squad." It wasn't arrogance—Lucas knew the assassins of this world, skilled as they might be, couldn't compare to the elite special forces he had personally trained. The War Wolf Squad was a product of his rigorous methods, honed to a razor's edge.
Ten minutes passed in a blink, the last grains of sand settling in the hourglass. Lucas raised a hand, and Number Two sprang into action, darting into the rocky forest with the speed and precision of a hunting wolf. His movements were fluid, his eyes scanning the terrain for the slightest hint of disturbance—a broken twig, a misplaced stone, a trace of breath in the cold air.
In the withered grove, Mira crouched within a carefully constructed hideout. She had spent five minutes gathering dried branches, weaving them into a makeshift camouflage that blended seamlessly with the surroundings. A thin layer of snow dusted the pile, concealing her further. 'Perfect,' She thought, her breath shallow to avoid detection. 'No one will find me here.'
But the War Wolf Squad was trained to see what others missed. Number Two's eyes caught the subtle anomaly—the pile of branches was too dense, too deliberate in an otherwise pristine grove. Seven minutes after entering the forest, he stopped, his gaze locking onto her hiding spot. With a swift movement, he parted the branches, revealing a stunned Mira.
She stumbled to her feet, her face a mask of disbelief as she followed Number Two back to Lucas. "Seven minutes," Lucas said, nodding approvingly. "Not bad."
"This…" Mira's voice faltered, her green eyes darting between Number Two's impassive face and Lucas's calm demeanor. How had she been found so quickly? Her hiding spot had been flawless—or so she thought. The sting of failure burned in her chest, her pride bruised.
"Number Two, your turn to hide," Lucas said, waving a hand dismissively. He glanced at Mira, noting the dazed expression on her face. 'She's shaken,' He thought, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.
Ten minutes later, Lucas turned to Mira. "Your turn to seek," He said, his voice steady. "Go."
Mira's jaw tightened, her eyes blazing with determination. "Fine," She snapped, storming into the withered grove. 'I'll find him faster than he found me,' She vowed. 'I have to.' Failure wasn't an option—not if she wanted to win this challenge and bring Amelia home.
But the minutes ticked by, and Mira's search grew frantic. She scoured the withered grove, then the rocky forest, her eyes darting over every shadow, every crevice. Nothing. Thirty minutes passed, then forty. Exhausted and defeated, she trudged back to Lucas and the others, her shoulders slumped. "I…" She began, her voice barely above a whisper. "I lost."
Lucas's expression remained unreadable. "Chris, go retrieve Number Two," He said calmly.
"Yes, Master," Chris replied, sprinting into the rocky forest. Ten minutes later, he returned with Number Two, who stood tall and unflinching.
"Explain how you hid," Lucas instructed.
Number Two straightened, his voice clear and commanding. "I used a patch of loose gravel. I buried myself from the feet up, covering my body completely with the stones."
"No, that's impossible!" Mira's eyes widened, her voice rising in disbelief. "I searched that area! I passed by it three times!" The gravel patch had been flat, unremarkable—she couldn't imagine anyone hiding there, let alone a man of Number Two's size.
"Show her," Lucas said, his tone even. "Demonstrate."
Number Two led the group to the gravel patch, with Mira trailing behind, her mind reeling. She didn't want to believe it, but as Number Two began to bury himself—layering the stones with meticulous care until he vanished into the ground—she had no choice. The technique was ingenious, using the most obvious place to hide in plain sight. 'How did I miss this?' She thought, her confidence crumbling.
"How did you find me?" Mira asked, her voice earnest now. She had been so sure of her hiding spot.
"Your branches," Number Two said simply. "The grove was too clean. A pile of gathered branches stood out like a beacon."
Mira's jaw dropped, her mind flashing back to Big Sister's lessons. That technique—stacking branches for cover—had been one of her teachings. To think it had such a glaring flaw left Mira stunned. 'I've been blind,' She thought, her pride giving way to a grudging respect.
"I lost," She said, meeting Lucas's gaze with newfound seriousness. She had learned something today, a lesson that might one day save her life on a mission.
"On to the second contest," Lucas said, his voice calm but carrying an undercurrent of challenge.
"Fine," Mira replied, her tone resolute. She couldn't afford to lose again. A second defeat would mean a 2-0 score, and her chances of winning the overall challenge would slip away. 'Not this time,' She thought, her determination reigniting.
"One kilometer away," Lucas said, pointing to a straw dummy set up in the distance, its silhouette stark against the snowy backdrop. "Whoever hits the target first wins." The War Wolf Squad had prepared the target during the first contest, a simple but effective setup for the challenge.
"Agreed," Mira said, nodding firmly. "I won't lose again."
"Is that so?" Lucas's eyebrow arched, a faint smile playing on his lips. He gestured to the War Wolf Squad. "Pick your opponent."
Mira's eyes scanned the line, settling on Number Eight—the smallest and leanest of the group. "Him," She said, her voice steady. 'Smaller means faster, but I can outmaneuver him.'
"Very well," Lucas said. "Weapons of your choice?"
"Yes," Mira replied, drawing her short dagger with a flourish. Her wings flared slightly, ready to lend her agility and speed. She was in her element now, her confidence bolstered by the familiar weight of the blade in her hand.
Number Eight stepped forward, his movements calm and deliberate. He retrieved a recurve bow from his gear, nocking a single arrow with practiced ease. His posture was relaxed, but his eyes were sharp, radiating confidence. 'One arrow,' He thought. 'That's all I need.'
"A longbow?" Mira's expression faltered, a flicker of unease crossing her face. A single arrow? Was he mocking her? The audacity of his choice fueled her determination, but a seed of doubt took root in her mind. 'He thinks he can beat me with one shot? We'll see about that.'
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