Daily Identification.

John had used this magical power every day and on many things. From houses and mountains to flowers and trees, he'd tried them all.

But he never cast it on people, subconsciously, he thought it wouldn't work.

Yet, the precarious situation demanded a magical solution. As he cast the magical power, shapeless symbols danced before his eyes, then coalesced upon Nevaeh. A surge of magical feedback flooded his mind.

"It worked!" John exulted, his initial delight quickly turning to dread as he absorbed the information.

[Nevaeh Couchant: an early stage Wave Weaver.

Elite disciple of the Order of Eternal Dawn, deep undercover within Forbidden Harmony.

Objective: Locate Bead of Celestial Calamitas.

Mission failed, identity compromised.

Urgent need for scapegoat.

Target identified: John (non-conformist behavior suggests potential disloyalty to the Dark Order).

Current strategy: barrage John with charm spells, manipulation to secure cooperation. Certain in John's collaboration.

Refusal to comply = Elimination.]

"How ruthless! She considers me as a decent person, yet, she'd kill me anyway." John despaired, but quickly steeled himself.

Regardless of his choice, the icy grip of death awaited him. The emerald pendant gleamed accusingly. Taking it meant death for her. Refusing it meant death by her hand.

"The first option is bound to death. The second option..." John's mind racing. "Years as a Wave Weaver... Weaves of formidable power... A head-on confrontation would be folly. A desperate gamble it had to be." John concluded grimly.

Feigning compliance, he reached for the pendant. Just as his fingers brushed against it, he suddenly looked behind Nevaeh. "Master?" He exclaimed, voice filled with shock.

Nevaeh whipped around, a startled gasp escaping her lips. A gleaming sword materialized in her hand as a weave activated in the other, attempting to use John as a human shield. The emerald pendant, now exposed, hung heavy in the air, destined to adorn the neck of the first to fall.

"Master Meridian," Nevaeh cried out, desperate to frame John first, "John's the traitor! He-" Her accusation died in her throat as she realized there was no one behind her.

In that beat of stunned silence, John attacked. The dagger, a blur of silver, pierced her neck with lightning speed. Nevaeh's gasp died in her throat as a puff of displaced air marked the moment the blade sank home.

It's a calculated move. Magic attack against a senior weaver may easily backfire, chances of her carrying protective amulets or scrolls were very high. Only a swift, decisive physical strike could guarantee victory.

John was determined to kill in one blow. There was no chance of winning head-on, so he hoped a sneak attack would make up the difference. He had no desire to harm anyone, nor did he target anyone. All he wanted was survival.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

Boom!

Just as the dagger sank home, Nevaeh's weave, already activated earlier, erupted in a surge of power, sending John flying with a booming explosion.

"You!" Nevaeh shrieked, disbelief etched on her face. Days spent manipulating him had painted John as naive and kind, destined for an untimely demise within Forbidden Harmony. This ruthless streak beneath his gentle exterior was a shock.

John, however, remained silent, his gaze steely. He drew his sword, ready for a final, desperate lunge.

The clash of steel filled the air. The injury cut off a crucial point of Nevaeh's saidar network, silenced her powerful weaves. Yet, she fought with surprising ferocity. Sparks flew as blades met, each blow a desperate struggle for survival. Eventually, the injury worsened and her strength waned. A powerful strike from John landed, leaving Nevaeh severely wounded. She crumpled to the ground, clutching her neck with horror in her eyes.

As a desperate effort, she spat out a torrent of pleas:

"John, you can't kill me. The Archmage of the Citadel values me very much and is vying for my body. He hasn't had me yet. If you kill me, he will definitely lash out on you."

John remained impassive, raising his sword once more.

"The Order of Eternal Dawn... A Stone Weaver... obsessed with me. You kill me, his vengeance will be swift and brutal... You will be skinned and deboned."

With a decisive swing, John silenced her. The metallic clang of his sword meeting flesh was followed by an eerie stillness.

The stillness was thick and suffocating. John, just in case, delivered a few more extra blows to Nevaeh's body, a chilling act that left a sour taste in his mouth. John's stomach churned as he wiped the blood from his dagger, a wave of nausea washing over him. This brutal world of mages offered no time for emotional hangups. He was a disciple of the forbidden path. Survival demanded adaptation.

After a long, tense vigil, John finally felt confident Nevaeh wouldn't rise again, either literally or with some hidden trick.

With a little hesitation, he made his way to find Archmage Meridian, the leader of Broken Love Cliff. John was trained under him since joining the Order. Unlike elite disciples, however, John received limited instructions alongside other disciples at fixed times, and relied heavily on self-directed practice to make progress.

A moment of doubt flickered across his mind, but he quickly dismissed it. Hiding the truth would only sow the seeds of future problems. Nevaeh was already branded as a traitor, and any hint of association with her could spell disaster. The emerald pendant, so desperately thrust upon him by Nevaeh, was another hot potato.

Moments later, John returned with reinforcements. Archmage Meridian, a man perpetually shrouded in a melancholic air, surveyed the scene. His brow furrowed, deep lines etching themselves into his forehead. His lips thinned into a grim line, and his eyes narrowed with suspicion.

"You killed her?" The master asked.

"Yes." John lowered his head and confirmed.

"Explain what transpired," Meridian commanded, his voice heavy.

John recounted the events, painting himself as a victim forced to defend himself against a desperate Nevaeh.

Meridian cut him short gloomily:

"When did you become a Wave Weaver?"

"Last month." John replied nervously.

"And a sneak attack was your chosen course of action?"

"Yes." John hesitated, then nodded curtly.

"Don't concern yourself with this matter further," the Archmage said dismissively. "The Law Enforcement Hall might question you later. Cooperate fully."

With those final words, Meridian took Nevaeh's body and departed. John's shoulders slumped as his master turned away, a knot of tension unraveling within him. He took a deep breath, the air tasting faintly of blood and ozone.

"I don't know what Forbidden Harmony will do. As for Eternal Dawn, as long as I remain within the Order, in a few decades, they'd forgotten all about Nevaeh. Even if they don't forget, I would have become strong enough to face any consequences."