The tide of battle shifted when desperation unlocked hidden potential.
Guard Captain Thorne, bleeding from a gash across his forehead but still standing firm, suddenly roared with fury that seemed to shake the mountain itself. His sword blazed with golden light as some dormant ability finally awakened under mortal pressure, and he carved through two attackers with strikes that left glowing trails in the pre-dawn darkness.
To Aiden's left, a young caravan guard named Pavel who had been chatting nervously about his first mountain crossing just hours ago suddenly began hurling bolts of crackling lightning from his fingertips. The electrical discharges arced between metal weapons and armor, sending several corrupt adventurers convulsing to the ground.
Combat awakening, Aiden realized. The life-or-death pressure is triggering core development in people who thought they were unawakened.
"You!" Thorne shouted over the chaos, pointing his glowing sword at Aiden while parrying a strike from a ice-wielding attacker. "Fall back behind the wagons! Down a mana potion if you have one, then hit these bastards with everything you've got! Ranged attacks—keep your distance and freeze the fuckers solid!"
Sound tactical advice. Aiden was holding his own in melee combat, but his frost magic was more effective when he could control range and positioning. He disengaged from his current opponent with a vicious slash that opened the man's sword arm, then sprinted toward the defensive position Thorne had indicated.
The mana potion went down like liquid fire, restoring energy reserves that had been severely depleted by maintaining his Frost Aura. But more than that, it seemed to amplify his connection to the ice magic flowing through his core, making spell-casting feel effortless rather than draining.
Time to end this.
From his new position behind an overturned wagon, Aiden had clear sight lines across most of the battlefield. His misdirection flowed out like invisible fog, touching the minds of multiple attackers simultaneously. Not trying to make himself invisible—at this point, stealth was impossible—but causing them to misjudge distances, angles, and timing in subtle ways that created exploitable openings.
His first Icicle Spear took a corrupt adventurer through the chest just as the man thought he was safely behind cover. The crystalline projectile punched through his leather armor like it was paper, freezing his heart solid before he could even scream.
The second spear caught a flame-wielding mage in the throat as Aiden's Exploit Weakness guided the projectile to the exact spot where his misdirection had caused the man to lower his guard. Ice met fire in a brief explosion of steam, then the adventurer toppled backward with frost spreading across his features.
Target. Misdirect. Exploit. Kill.
The combination became a mechanical process, each step flowing into the next with deadly efficiency. His growing understanding of combat allowed him to read the battlefield like a book, identifying threats and opportunities with the same cold calculation he'd once applied to avoiding overseer attention.
A crossbow-wielding woman tried to flank the defensive position, but Aiden's misdirection made her think she was approaching from a different angle. When she stepped into what she believed was concealing shadows, his icicle spear was waiting for her.
An axe-fighter charged the wagon line with berserker fury, but careful misdirection caused him to stumble at exactly the wrong moment. He fell face-first into the frost-covered ground just as Aiden's projectile arrived to separate his head from his shoulders.
Around him, the other defenders were pressing their own advantages. Pavel's lightning magic had improved dramatically during the fight, progressing from wild discharges to precisely aimed bolts that could drop armored opponents. Thorne's golden sword-light seemed to cut through both steel and flesh with equal ease, while his tactical commands kept the remaining guards functioning as a coordinated unit.
The corrupt adventurers had started the fight with overwhelming advantages—superior numbers, better equipment, extensive combat experience, and the element of surprise. But advantages meant nothing when facing opponents who had unlocked their full potential through mortal desperation.
This is what real awakening looks like, Aiden thought as he sent another icicle spear through a fleeing attacker's spine. Not the gradual development I experienced in the quarry, but explosive growth forced by immediate necessity.
The surviving bandits began to understand that their easy target had become a death trap. The coordinated assault dissolved into individual attempts to disengage and retreat, as professional discipline gave way to simple survival instinct.
"They're breaking!" Thorne shouted, his voice carrying across the battlefield with military authority. "Press the attack! Don't let them regroup!"
But Aiden was already ahead of him, his icicle spears hunting down fleeing targets with mechanical precision. His misdirection ensured that none of them could maintain proper situational awareness while running, causing them to stumble into obstacles, misjudge distances, or simply present perfect target profiles.
By the time the sun crested the eastern peaks, the battle was over. Twelve corrupt adventurers lay dead in the frost-covered clearing, their blood creating abstract patterns on ground that had been peaceful wilderness just hours before.
The cost had been severe. Of the original fifteen-person expedition, only eight remained alive. Three guards had fallen during the initial assault, along with the elderly merchant Aldwin and a traveling bard named Corwin who had tried to help defend the wagons despite having no combat training.
"Gather the dead," Thorne ordered, his golden sword-light finally fading as exhaustion caught up with desperate energy. "We'll give them proper rites once we're clear of this area. Can't risk staying here if more of these bastards are in the region."
The survivors moved with the efficient sorrow of people who had seen too much death in too short a time. Bodies were wrapped in spare canvas and secured to pack animals, while salvageable supplies were redistributed among the remaining wagons.
Aiden took the opportunity to conduct his own form of salvage.
Moving among the fallen attackers, he selectively used his essence absorption on those who showed signs of interesting abilities. The process was becoming more efficient with practice—he could now drain essence without completely exhausting himself, though each absorption still required significant energy investment.
[ESSENCE ABSORPTION COMPLETE - MULTIPLE TARGETS]
[INCOMPLETE ABILITIES DETECTED]
[CONSOLIDATION PROCESS INITIATED]
[ABILITIES GAINED: Piercing Blade (Common), Frost Bolt (Common)]
[Consolidated inferior versions of advanced techniques]
The new abilities were hardly impressive compared to what he'd stolen from more powerful victims, but they provided useful additions to his growing arsenal. Piercing Blade would help his weapon attacks penetrate armor more effectively, while Frost Bolt offered a more energy-efficient alternative to his Icicle Spear for situations that didn't require maximum lethality.
Every advantage matters, he thought as the new knowledge settled into his consciousness. Small improvements compound over time.
"Impressive work out there," Thorne said, approaching while Aiden finished his grisly task. The guard captain's weathered face showed new respect, the kind of recognition that came from fighting alongside someone and surviving. "Haven't seen ice magic used that precisely since my military days."
"Thank you, Captain."
"Call me Thorne. Anyone who stands with us in a fight like that has earned the right to familiarity." The older man extended a canvas sack heavy with coin and other valuables. "Your share of what we recovered from those bastards. Figure anyone who helped kill them deserves part of the proceeds."
Aiden accepted the payment with appropriate gratitude, though the monetary value was less important than the social recognition it represented. Sharing loot was how adventurers acknowledged equals, and equal status would be valuable in the capital.
"Mind if I ask where you trained?" Thorne continued, his professional interest evident. "That combination of ice magic and tactical awareness doesn't come from guild instruction manuals."
"Self-taught, mostly," Aiden replied carefully. "Had some... unpleasant experiences that motivated rapid improvement."
Thorne nodded with the understanding of someone who had seen how desperation could accelerate learning. "Best kind of motivation, harsh as it sounds. The comfortable never push themselves to real excellence."
The caravan resumed its journey within two hours, moving faster now despite reduced numbers. Everyone understood that the corrupt adventurers might have allies in the region, and lingering near a battlefield would only invite further trouble.
As they wound their way deeper into the mountain passes, Aiden found himself riding alongside Pavel, the young guard whose lightning awakening had helped turn the tide of battle.
"Never killed anyone before today," Pavel admitted quietly, his hands still shaking slightly from combat aftermath. "Always wondered how it would feel. Thought it would be... different somehow."
"Different how?" Aiden asked, genuinely curious about how normal people processed their first experience with lethal violence.
"More significant, I guess. Like there should be some kind of ceremony or recognition when you cross that line. But it just felt... necessary. Like any other job that needed doing."
Interesting perspective, Aiden thought. For him, killing had always carried emotional weight—rage at the quarry, satisfaction during his revenge against Aldric, cold calculation during the caravan battle. But Pavel seemed to view it as simply another skill learned under pressure.
"You handled it well," Aiden said. "Your lightning work saved several lives."
Pavel smiled with the cautious pride of someone discovering hidden capabilities. "Captain Thorne says I might have real potential if I get proper training. Thinks the guild in Drakmoor City could help me develop my abilities."
The guild. Where Aiden would soon be trying to establish his own reputation and access to advancement opportunities. Having allies among the local guard force could prove valuable for future operations.
The rest of the journey passed without significant incident. The corrupt adventurers had apparently been operating alone, and no further ambushes materialized as they descended toward the capital.
Drakmoor City revealed itself gradually through mountain mists—a sprawling metropolis of stone and steel that dwarfed anything Aiden had seen since his childhood in the noble districts. Smoke rose from hundreds of chimneys, while the sounds of commerce and industry created a constant background hum that spoke of civilization at its most complex.
Opportunity, he thought as the caravan passed through gates guarded by professional soldiers rather than bored militia. And anonymity. Time to see what the capital can teach me about power.
Somewhere in that maze of streets and districts lay the next phase of his education. More advanced training, more dangerous missions, more opportunities to grow strong enough for the confrontations that still waited.
Seven names remained on his list, but now he had both the skills and the cover identity needed to hunt them down properly.
The Path of Frost and Steel continued its steady progression, teaching him new lessons about combining magic and violence in pursuit of justice.
But first, he had a reputation to build in the most dangerous city in the province.
The real game was just beginning.