Chapter 51: Attacked

Chapter 51: Chapter 51: Attacked

"The wolf eats the sheep, and the lion eats the wolf." — Proverb

The heavy wooden door of the Boar’s Tusk had barely closed behind Riven when the rumors began spreading through the settlement.

The confrontation with Marcus had attracted plenty of attention. By now, several adventurers had already heard how the masked child had disarmed an experienced mercenary without giving him a chance to react.

Most people were content to keep their distance.

Others were curious.

And a few saw an opportunity.

Deep within a narrow alley between two abandoned storehouses, a pair of sharp eyes watched Riven pass.

The man observing him was named Vane.

He was a black market dealer of stolen goods.

Vane wasn’t particularly loyal to anyone.

He simply followed the money.

And the artifact attached to the boy’s face looked like it could make him very wealthy.

The black material absorbed nearly all the light around it. Even from a distance, Vane could tell it wasn’t an ordinary piece of equipment. The way it blended into the boy’s skin suggested some kind of magical binding.

He had seen expensive artifacts before.

He had even handled a few cursed ones.

But he’d never seen anything quite like this.

A relic capable of concealing its owner’s mana while apparently enhancing their magical abilities would attract considerable interest in the right circles.

If the artifact could be removed intact, it might be worth a fortune.

And it was only a small child who had it.

Vane smiled beneath his scarf.

He adjusted the collar of his reinforced leather coat and slipped a narrow stiletto into his sleeve.

Then he began following the boy.

Riven noticed the tail almost immediately.

He had been walking through the settlement’s outer district, heading toward the Guild, when he first sensed someone following him.

At first, he ignored it.

The streets were crowded enough that someone walking in the same direction meant little. But after several turns, the footsteps remained behind him.

Twenty paces.

Always the same distance.

Riven slowed down.

The footsteps slowed.

He crossed a narrow street.

They followed.

His mask made it difficult to ignore the subtle sounds around him. He could hear the scrape of leather against stone and the faint shift of equipment beneath the stranger’s coat.

Whoever it was had experience following people.

He turned into a narrow maintenance corridor between two old storehouses.

The alley was nearly empty, with high stone walls on either side and a dead end at the far end. A few broken crates had been left against the wall, and weeds grew between the uneven stones.

Riven walked toward the end of the corridor.

Then he stopped.

The footsteps behind him grew louder.

A moment later, a man stepped into the alley.

He wore a reinforced leather coat, dark trousers, and worn boots. A scarf concealed the lower half of his face, leaving only his eyes visible.

He was taller than Riven and carried himself with the confidence of someone accustomed to dangerous situations.

His gaze immediately settled on the mask.

"Well, I have to hand it to you, kid."

Riven said nothing.

"You certainly made a splash at the tavern this morning."

The man smiled.

"But walking around the frontier with an artifact like that? You’re practically begging someone to take it from you."

Riven watched him carefully.

The stranger’s hands were relaxed, but his right sleeve hung slightly differently from his left. There was something concealed beneath it.

A weapon, most likely.

"Who are you?" Riven asked.

"Someone who appreciates valuable things."

The man stepped farther into the corridor.

Riven didn’t respond.

Vane glanced at the mask again.

"Give me the mask"

"No."

He couldn’t even if he wanted to.

"That’s unfortunate."

His eyes narrowed.

"Still, I suppose that makes it even more interesting."

Riven’s hand moved.

Shadow mana gathered around his fingers, forming a dark, needle shaped spike.

Vane chuckled.

"Ah, so the rumors are true. You really can use magic."

He drew a blackened dagger from his belt.

"Unfortunately, I’ve dealt with professional mages before. You’re not going to frighten me with a little trick."

Riven didn’t intend to frighten him.

He intended to survive.

Vane moved first.

His dagger came up as he stepped forward, but Riven had already begun casting.

Shadow Leap.

The world folded around him.

A faint burst of dark mist appeared where he had been standing.

Vane’s eyes widened.

He had expected a spell, perhaps a projectile or some kind of defensive barrier.

He hadn’t expected the boy to disappear.

Riven reappeared to his left, already driving an Umbral Needle toward his ribs.

Vane reacted quickly.

He twisted his body, avoiding the worst of the attack, but the needle still pierced his leather armor and buried itself in his side.

A sharp breath escaped him.

Before Riven could pull away, Vane drove his boot into the boy’s chest.

The impact sent Riven flying backward.

His body struck the stone wall hard enough to knock the air from his lungs.

For a moment, he couldn’t breathe.

Pain spread across his ribs.

He slid down the wall, struggling to regain his footing.

Vane staggered backward, one hand pressed against his bleeding side.

"You little bastard!"

He looked down at the wound.

The needle had pierced through his armor, leaving a narrow but deep hole. Blood seeped between his fingers.

Vane’s expression darkened.

He had underestimated the boy.

That mistake wasn’t going to happen again.

He rushed forward.

Riven tried to stand, but his ribs protested. He barely managed to raise his sword before Vane’s dagger came down.

Shadow Veil.

Dark mana spread across Riven’s sword, forming a dense protective layer.

The dagger struck.

A sharp screech echoed through the alley as the blade scraped against the shadow coating.

The impact forced Riven backward.

His defense held for only a moment before the spell began to crack.

The dagger slipped through the weakened barrier and cut across his left arm.

Pain flared.

Blood ran down his sleeve.

Riven stumbled away, clutching his injured arm.

Vane grinned.

"Not so fast now, are you?"

Riven didn’t answer.

He could feel his core draining.

Shadow Leap had consumed a considerable amount of mana, and maintaining Shadow Veil against the dagger had cost him even more.

His breathing was becoming uneven.

The wound in his arm was deep enough to interfere with his grip, and the pain in his ribs made it difficult to move.

He had made a mistake.

He had assumed the mask’s power would be enough to overcome the difference in experience.

It wasn’t.

Vane was far more dangerous than Marcus.

The mercenary at the tavern had relied on his size and strength. Vane knew how to fight. He understood distance, timing, and how to exploit an opponent’s weaknesses.

Riven had no intention of giving him another opportunity.

Vane raised his dagger.

"Time to collect."

He lunged.

Riven focused on his core.

There wasn’t much mana left, but he didn’t need much.

He needed one more jump.

Not backward.

Not sideways.

Through.

He waited until Vane committed to the attack.

Then he cast Shadow Leap.

The space between them folded.

Riven vanished just as the dagger swept through the air.

A wisp of black mist appeared behind Vane.

The operative’s momentum carried him forward.

Before he could turn, Riven reappeared directly behind him.

He was close enough to feel the movement of Vane’s coat.

Two Umbral Needles formed in his hands.

Riven drove them forward.

The first struck through a gap in the man’s back armor.

The second followed almost immediately through his neck.

Vane stiffened.

His dagger slipped from his fingers and struck the stones.

For a brief moment, he remained standing.

Then his knees buckled.

He collapsed face first onto the ground.

Riven stepped backward.

The shadow needles dissolved.

He stood motionless, staring at the body.

His breathing was heavy, and his left arm throbbed with every heartbeat. The pain in his ribs had become a dull, constant ache.

He had won.

But barely.

If Vane had been a little faster, or if Riven had used Shadow Leap a moment too early, he might have died.

Riven looked down at the dead man.

He didn’t feel particularly proud.

He was simply relieved that he was still alive.

Riven waited several seconds before approaching the body.

He checked the alley in both directions.

Nobody was coming.

He knelt beside Vane and searched his coat.

The first thing he found was a small leather pouch filled with silver coins. He counted them quickly before putting them away.

There were also several small tools, a few scraps of parchment, and a bundle of heavy iron throwing needles.

Riven examined the needles.

They were longer and heavier than ordinary sewing needles, with sharpened points and narrow grooves running along their sides.

A faint blue substance coated the tips.

Poison.

He carefully wrapped the needles in their cloth covering and placed them inside his spatial belt.

He would need to find out exactly what kind of poison it was before using them.

The next item caught his attention.

It was a small brass monocle with a rotating ring of pale green runes. The lens was thick and slightly tinted, and several delicate markings had been engraved along its frame.

Riven turned it over in his hands.

He recognized the general appearance of magical appraisal equipment, though he had never used one himself.

An Appraisal Ocular.

He had heard of similar devices from merchants and adventurers. They were used to examine the basic properties of equipment, materials, and magical items without requiring a full assessment from a mage.

The more expensive models could identify magical effects and estimate an item’s quality.

This one appeared to be a relatively moderate version.

’If only I hade this earlier’

Riven slipped it into his belt.

He searched Vane one last time but found nothing else particularly useful.

Then he stood.

His arm was bleeding badly and he wasn’t sure if he was poisoned.

He needed treatment.

He also needed to leave before someone discovered the body.

Riven pulled his hood lower and began walking.

The journey to Sister Elena’s clinic felt considerably longer than usual.

Riven kept his injured arm close to his body, trying to avoid moving it too much. Every step sent a dull ache through his ribs.

His breathing remained shallow.

He had lost more blood than he would have liked, and the pain was beginning to interfere with his concentration.

Still, he kept walking.

He knew the way to the clinic well enough to reach it without asking for directions.

By the time he arrived, his legs were beginning to feel unsteady.

He raised his uninjured hand and knocked on the heavy wooden door.

Once.

Twice.

Then again.

The door opened almost immediately.

Sister Elena stood in the doorway.

She was a middle aged woman with tired, kind eyes and a face that seemed permanently caught between concern and irritation. Her healer’s robes were slightly worn, and her sleeves were rolled up as though she had been working for hours.

The moment she saw Riven, her expression changed.

Her eyes moved from his pale face to the blood soaking his left sleeve.

Then they settled on the mask.

"Oh, for the love of the gods!"

She grabbed his uninjured shoulder.

"What did you walk into this time?"

Riven tried to answer, but the words came out weaker than he intended.

"I need healing."

"No kidding!"

Elena pulled him inside and slammed the door shut.

She threw the iron deadbolt into place before turning back toward him.

"Sit down. Now."

Riven took a step toward the bench.

His knees nearly gave out.

Elena caught him before he fell.

"Honestly, what am I going to do with you?"

She helped him onto the bench and immediately began examining his arm.

"Hold still."

Riven obeyed.

Elena carefully rolled up his torn sleeve. The fabric stuck to the wound, and she had to peel it away slowly.

Riven clenched his teeth.

The cut ran along his forearm, deep enough that the edges had begun to separate. Blood continued to seep from it.

Elena’s expression hardened.

"How did this happen?"

"I was attacked."

"By what?"

"A man."

She looked up sharply.

"A man?"

Riven nodded.

Elena stared at him for a moment.

Then she let out a frustrated breath.

"Of course. Because apparently monsters weren’t enough."

She reached for a clean cloth and pressed it against the wound.

Riven flinched.

"Stop moving!"

"It hurts."

"Yes, I’m aware. That’s why I’m trying to stop you from bleeding all over my clinic."

Her voice was sharp, but her hands were careful.

She cleaned the surrounding skin and examined the cut more closely.

"You’re lucky it didn’t hit anything important."

Riven said nothing.

Elena glanced at his face.

"Now, what about your ribs?"

"They hurt."

"How badly?"

"Not too badly."

She gave him a flat look.

"That wasn’t what I asked."

Riven hesitated.

"Badly."

"Much better."

She moved around the bench and carefully examined his chest. Her fingers pressed along his ribs, checking for swelling and signs of a fracture.

Riven winced when she reached one particularly painful spot.

Elena immediately stopped.

"Broken?"

"I don’t think so."

"Well, I certainly hope not."

She examined him for another moment before nodding.

"Bruised, most likely. You need to stop getting yourself beaten half to death."

Riven looked away.

Elena sighed.

Her expression softened slightly, though her voice remained stern.

"You’re still a child, Riven. You don’t have to prove you can survive every fight."

He didn’t answer.

She returned to the workbench and prepared her healing supplies.

Elena began with the wound on his arm.

She cleaned it thoroughly, removing the dirt and dried blood before applying a pale white healing spell.

Warmth spread through Riven’s forearm.

The torn skin slowly began closing, though the process was uncomfortable. He felt a strange pulling sensation beneath the surface as the damaged tissue repaired itself.

Elena worked carefully, watching his expression.

"Don’t move."

Riven remained still.

After several minutes, the bleeding stopped.

The wound was closed, but the skin remained red and tender.

Elena wrapped his arm in clean bandages.

"That should keep it from reopening, provided you don’t do anything stupid."

Riven looked at the bandage.

"How long?"

"At least several days before you put any real strain on it. Longer if you insist on fighting."

He nodded.

Elena then turned her attention to his ribs.

She placed one hand against his chest and began channeling restorative magic.

A gentle white glow spread beneath her palm.

The pain slowly faded, though it didn’t disappear completely.

Riven took a deeper breath.

It still hurt, but he could breathe more comfortably.

Elena withdrew her hand.

"That’s as much as I’m doing today. Your ribs need time to heal naturally."

Riven nodded.

She began packing away her supplies.

Then she stopped.

"Now, are you going to tell me what happened?"

Riven looked at her.

"I was followed."

"By the man who attacked you?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"He wanted my mask."

Elena’s eyes moved toward the artifact.

For a moment, she said nothing.

Then she shook her head.

"I knew that thing was going to cause trouble."

Riven remained silent.

She sat down across from him.

"Did you kill him?"

Riven hesitated.

"Yes."

Elena closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead.

"Wonderful."

She sounded exhausted.

"Absolutely wonderful."

Riven waited for her to continue.

After a moment, she opened her eyes.

"Did he attack you first?"

"Yes."

"Did anyone see?"

"No."

Elena studied him carefully.

Then she sighed.

"Well, at least you weren’t stupid enough to start a fight in the middle of the street."

Riven wasn’t sure whether that counted as praise.

Elena stood and began putting away the remaining supplies.

"Listen to me. If someone is following you, you come here or go to the Guild. You don’t have to fight every person who looks at you strangely."

"He attacked me."

"I know."

Her voice softened.

"But that doesn’t mean you should go looking for trouble."

Riven lowered his head.

Elena watched him for a moment.

She was clearly frustrated, but there was genuine concern in her eyes.

"You’re going to get yourself killed one of these days."

Riven didn’t respond.

He had heard similar warnings before.

The difference was that Elena actually seemed to mean them.

After finishing his treatment, Riven paid the healer.

Elena accepted the coins with a tired sigh.

"At least you remembered to bring money this time."

Riven glanced at her.

"How much do I owe?"

She named the price.

He paid without arguing.

Elena put the coins away and crossed her arms.

"You’re not leaving until you’ve rested for at least an hour."

"I need to return to the inn."

"You can return to the inn after you’ve rested."

Riven considered arguing.

Then he looked at his bandaged arm.

His ribs still hurt, and his core was nearly empty.

There was little point pretending he was fine.

He leaned back against the bench.

Elena brought him a cup of water and placed it on the table beside him.

"Drink."

Riven obeyed.

She watched him for a moment before returning to her work.

Despite her sharp words, she had made sure he was comfortable and had given him time to recover.

Riven wasn’t used to that.

He had spent much of his life being treated as something disposable. Even after escaping the camp, he had rarely allowed himself to depend on anyone.

Elena was different.

She scolded him constantly, but she never treated him like a burden.

It was an unfamiliar feeling.

He wasn’t sure what to do with it.

An hour later, Riven finally stood.

His arm still hurt, but the bleeding had stopped. His ribs were sore, though the healing magic had made breathing easier.

Elena watched him gather his belongings.

"You’re going to rest tomorrow."

Riven paused.

"I have work."

"You have injuries."

"I can still—"

"No."

Her voice was firm enough to stop him.

Riven looked at her.

Elena crossed her arms.

"You can argue with me all you want, but I’m not healing you again tomorrow because you decided to ignore my instructions."

He remained silent.

"At least two days," she continued. "No contracts, no training, and absolutely no fighting."

Riven reluctantly nodded.

"Good."

She opened the door for him.

"And if that arm starts bleeding again, you come straight back here."

"I will."

Elena gave him a doubtful look.

"See that you do."

Riven stepped outside.

The afternoon air was cold, and the streets were beginning to quiet as merchants prepared to close their stalls.

He adjusted his cloak and started toward the inn.

The fight with Vane had taught him several things.

Shadow Leap was useful, but it wasn’t a guaranteed escape. His mana reserves were still limited, and a skilled opponent could exploit his mistakes.

His Shadow Veil could protect him, but it wasn’t strong enough to withstand every attack.

And his mask, despite its impressive abilities, couldn’t make him invincible.

He had survived because he adapted quickly.

Next time, he would need to be better prepared.

As he walked, his hand brushed against the side of his spatial belt.

Inside were the coins, the Appraisal Ocular, and the bundle of poisoned throwing needles.

He still needed to identify the poison and learn how to use the new equipment properly.

But that could wait.

For now, he needed rest.

Riven returned to the inn, climbed the stairs, and locked himself inside his room.

He placed his equipment on the table and carefully removed his cloak.

Then he sat on the bed.

His body ached, his mana was nearly depleted, and his arm was wrapped in fresh bandages.

He had gained another valuable lesson.

Survival wasn’t simply about becoming stronger.

It was about knowing when to fight, when to retreat, and when to accept help.

Riven closed his eyes.

For once, he decided to follow Elena’s advice.

He would rest.