Thiriel didn't delude himself.
He didn't know how strong Vexar was in real combat, but there was something he was absolutely clear about: in pure magic, the old man outclassed him.
Not by a little. By experience, by accumulated years, by knowledge he had never shared.
If they faced off head-on, on equal footing, he would die.
In his room, with the door closed and magic completely suppressed, Thiriel evaluated his options with the coldness of someone who had survived thousands of battles.
In his previous life, he had killed enemies stronger, faster, and better armed than him, because he never fought on the ground they expected.
He got up and went straight to the tower kitchen.
He didn't look for ceremonial weapons or magic artifacts. That would have been stupid.
Vexar would feel the activation of any object with a magic charge.
He took a kitchen knife.
Simple. Heavy. Sharp.
He held it a moment, testing the balance. It wasn't ideal, but it would serve.
In the hands of a trained warrior, any blade could become a deadly weapon.
He returned to his room and hid it under his tunic.
He took a deep breath.
He activated the Magic Warrior Aura just a little. Just enough to sharpen reflexes and perception, not enough to leave a detectable trail.
He waited.
For long minutes, the tower remained restless. Then, little by little, the magical chaos he had felt from the distance began to dissipate.
The disordered flow of combat in the forest died down, replaced by stillness.
"They are coming," he murmured.
Thiriel left his room and went down to the main lobby, positioning himself near the entrance. He adopted a relaxed posture, as if he were simply waiting for news, like any worried apprentice.
It didn't take long.
The doors opened abruptly.
The apprentices returned first. Some walked leaning on each other. Others had improvised bandages.
There was dried blood on tunics and arms. Exhaustion was reflected on every face.
Among them was Drowen, pale, breathing with difficulty, with a poorly closed wound on his side. Kael walked beside him, his arm trembling.
Behind all of them…
Vexar.
The old man advanced with his staff digging into the ground with more force than usual. His breathing was heavy, irregular. Sweat ran down his wrinkled forehead. His eyes, though still sharp, showed evident wear.
He had fought.
And it hadn't been easy.
"Master," said one of the senior apprentices. "We are back."
Vexar nodded slowly.
"Enter," he ordered. "Tend to the most wounded first."
Thiriel took a step forward immediately.
"Master," he said with some concern. "Is everyone okay? Why did you return so hurt?"
Vexar observed him carefully, as if just noticing his presence.
He advanced a couple more steps… and then frowned.
He stopped dead in his tracks.
He closed his eyes for an instant.
He opened them again, now full of suspicion.
"Something isn't right," he murmured.
Thiriel felt a slight chill.
Vexar turned his head slowly, as if searching for something invisible.
"The servants," he said. "I left several here."
He fixed his gaze on Thiriel.
"I don't feel them."
The lobby fell silent.
All the apprentices were confused.
Thiriel didn't hesitate.
"While you were out," he replied, "some beasts managed to cross the forest perimeter. They got too close to the tower."
Vexar narrowed his eyes.
"Beasts?"
"Yes," continued Thiriel. "I felt them from here. There weren't many, but they were fast. I attacked first so they wouldn't enter."
He paused briefly.
"The servants… were eliminated by the beasts."
There were murmurs of surprise among the apprentices.
Vexar observed him for several seconds. Exhaustion mixed with distrust on his face.
"You alone?" he asked.
"I couldn't let them enter," Thiriel replied. "Especially with Cae nearby."
Vexar nodded slowly.
"You did well," he said.
He took one more step.
Now he was very close.
Too close.
"However…" he added. "I find it strange not to have felt the combat."
"They were fast," Thiriel replied. "I didn't use excessive magic."
The old man seemed about to say something else.
It was then that Thiriel took the last step.
Enough to be within arm's reach.
Everything happened in an instant.
The Magic Warrior Aura exploded completely.
Not like a visible burst, but like a brutal compression inside his body. Muscles, tendons, and bones aligned in a single purpose. The force ran through his body like contained lightning.
The knife appeared in his hand.
The attack was direct.
Precise.
Deadly.
Thiriel aimed for the neck.
Vexar felt the danger a split second before the blade arrived.
His instincts, forged by decades of survival, reacted immediately.
He twisted his body violently.
The blade passed where his throat had been.
But he didn't emerge unscathed.
The knife descended with all of Thiriel's physical strength amplified by the aura. The blow impacted Vexar's left arm squarely.
There was a dry thud.
A tearing scream filled the lobby.
"AAAAH!"
Blood gushed like a torrent.
The arm was almost severed from the body, held only by a fragment of flesh and bone.
The knife had cut deep, brutal, almost tearing the arm off in a single blow.
Vexar stumbled back, falling to his knees, clutching the stump with his healthy hand. His face was contorted, white with terror.
While the remaining servants and senior apprentices interposed themselves between Thiriel and Vexar.
"You…" he gasped. "You…!"
The apprentices screamed.
Kael froze.
Drowen's eyes widened in horror.
Thiriel didn't stop.
He turned the knife for the second attack, prepared to finish him off.
Vexar, eyes wide with pain and fear, instinctively activated his magic. A chaotic pulse exploded around him, forcing Thiriel to retreat several steps.
The Magic Warrior Aura cushioned part of the impact, but even so, he felt the energy shake his organs.
Vexar breathed with difficulty, trembling.
For the first time since he had known him...
He was afraid.
"You were… inches away," he stammered, looking at his shattered arm. "Inches away from killing me."
Thiriel gripped the knife tighter.
The lobby was chaos.
The senior apprentices were shocked.
The tower, for the first time, was truly out of control.
The ambush had worked.