As my spell went off I thought about how odd it was that I hadn't had anyone attempt to rob me earlier. Coming from my previous world I understood how I was now quite well off, and how many people would have wanted some of that wealth, but it had taken so long.

Over the years I'd played with multiple setups for protecting my stuff, but this was the first I knew of that had been needed. Originally I'd just kept everything put away, which I still did of course, but now I had little strings on all my entry points that rang bells in my room should anything happen. That had been the alert that someone had broken into my house, rousing me from sleep and bringing me to check on these idiots.

The spell stopped and I stepped into the doorway. Flashbangs just worked, and the three men trying to pick themselves off the ground were a good representation of this.

“Fuck, get him!” one of them shouted, pointing several feet to my left.

They'd come at night, and that meant they were clearly up to no good, so I didn't really bother holding back. The speaker was the first to rise, and he caught a blast of force to the stomach, launching him ass over end into a wall beside the furnace.

The other two were now starting to try and stand, but were also clearly out of it. More bolts of force would be the answer here as well, the small spell spinning up in my hand without much effort. The second of the thieves tried to dodge, jumping upwards, but that didn't much work. I cringed in pain as the bolt that had been heading for number two's midsection instead caught the man's knee, turning it in a completely unnatural direction. The final man was sent flying by my attack, hitting a wall and slumping like a sack of flour.

I was ready to tie them up and call for the guards, at least that's what I thought. Out of the corner of my eye I caught the image of the first thief rising and launching himself at me. Even after being flashbanged and thrown across a room he still had that much, and I was surprised.

I only barely managed to turn in time, a knife he'd brought slipping across my stomach and leaving a bright red trail rather than gutting me. The flint may have been brittle, but it was still sharp, and more than capable of killing me. I needed to stop playing around with these three and end it.

With a hiss of pain I decided to go back to one of my old favorites, fire. “Very well,” I said as I back-peddled.

There was a brief look of confusion on the thief's face at my words, then I brought both hands together. As I did I noticed several markings across his skin light up and shine a dull silver, some kind of protective ability. Briefly I wondered if it would be enough to save him, then I decided it didn't matter too much.

The lance of fire I shot forward caught him square in the chest, and unlike I intended, didn't go straight through. Instead the man was picked up by the blast and hurled backwards, through a window, and right out into the street.

I didn't want to be caught unawares again and turned. The thief with the broken knee was still down, screaming in pain, his friend still unconscious. I didn't have a good way to knock the second out, but I did hit him with another force bolt, just to make sure, before heading into the street after the remaining assailant.

The last man was still kicking, even getting up after taking that blast, and I had to admit, I was a bit surprised. Sure, his chest was covered in burns, and he looked to be struggling as I hopped through my destroyed window, but he was still quite alive.

Just as I was readying to finish this we were joined by others. The series of explosions and lights had not gone unnoticed and at the ends of the street came several men with spears. Their outfits spoke of their profession as city guards, and they looked very displeased.

My opponent tried to run, but there would be none of that. Had they caught me unaware, or asleep, perhaps these men could have hurt me, but I was neither of those things. Planes of force snapped into being around the would-be thief, locking him in a small cell.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

“HALT!” came a shout from my side, and I rose my hands, showing that I didn't want to fight.

The guards quickly came up to us, and only hesitantly approached me. It was clear that I was the one slinging spells, and for a few short moments I could feel them prepping to fight. They made sure to spread out, one always out of my line of sight, so that someone would be able to strike if I did.

Then one of them produced a light, and got a look at my face. After that things got a lot easier. I was pretty well acquainted with the local law enforcement, and they with me. Because of our perfect memories they also easily recognized where I was. The guards of Atal knew everyone in the districts they patrolled, so explaining myself wasn't too hard.

Quickly the thieves found themselves tied with course ropes and the guards began inspecting everything. They noted the injuries to all of us, looking particularly displeased at the slice on my stomach, as well as the damage done to my house. From there I was asked to join them while one of their number waited at my home.

That of course was less a request than an order, so I happily went. I'd done nothing wrong, so there was little worry, but that little grew as we moved through the city. Step by step we headed towards the middle, towards the biggest of the avenues that led inwards. Houses got slightly bigger, slightly nicer, and one building began to loom over all others.

Seeing my concern one of the guards spoke. “The ancestor likes to hold court at sunrise. When we get there we'll speak, tell him what happened. You'll get a chance to speak, but afterwards don't say anything unless he addresses you. Atal doesn't speak much for these, except to hand down his judgment.”

“He'll judge the case himself?” I asked, surprised.

“Things like this are uncommon, theft is one thing, trying to kill someone another. You'll be fine, so long as the ancestor doesn't take some offense.” He patted me on the shoulder, trying to be reassuring.

Darkness gave way to the pink dawn as we entered, and were seen to a large opening. The inside of the room was vast, and there were only a few others waiting. Some of those in line were held by guards, or tied, some still could move. Regardless of their status all seemed on edge.

The room itself was large, squarish and open. Windows lined the sides, though there were also small fire pits here and there for extra light, a path of them lining a particular approach. Everything was organized around a large stone throne, sitting empty and on a small rise above everyone and everything else.

As the first golden ray shone through one of the windows a figure walked lazily through a back door. His hair was pure white, hanging over his shoulders in a silver waterfall. Guards and others in the hall bowed slightly as he passed, and sat upon his throne.

He looked sort of bored as the first pair of petitioners were brought before him. I didn't catch the whole explanation, but it appeared that the two were brothers who were arguing over a house that they'd inherited. That normally wouldn't have been a major thing, but their argument had spilled into the street and caused a large fight among the residents of the neighborhood.

“Tear down the house,” Atal declared to one of the guards standing by, looking uninterested. Both men were stunned, but quickly left, not wanting the old elf's attention any more than they'd already got.

All of the cases here were like that, people causing large disturbances or damages. It was also clear that Atal was both harsh, and couldn't be bothered for most of it. The case before mine was one of murder. The testimonies were given, and it seemed the perpetrator had been caught in the act.

“Execute her,” the ancient declared, one hand resting on a fist.

“No!” the elven woman screamed as guards came to pull her from before the old elf.

She didn't go quietly, instead forming a ball of energy in her hand and launching it at Atal. I wasn't familiar with her spell, whatever it had been, but it seemed to do absolutely nothing as it splashed against the ancient's skin, bursting like a raindrop.

There was a crack, familiar as a sonic boom, and he was in front of the offending woman. There was fear in her eyes, and it was intentional. Atal had opted to give her just enough time to understand her error before he reached forward, one hand landing on her shoulder the other on her throat. What followed was a short scream of pain and a sickening ripping sound as he pulled, separating her head from her body like a child pulling apart an insect.

Blood spurted everywhere as the ruler of the city turned to return to his chair. Water was brought by a waiting serving girl, her own hands trembling, with which he washed himself briefly before sitting back down. I sort of pitied her, as that particular job must have been terrifying.

Everyone else in the room was silent as the corpse was pulled away, and then it was our turn.

The thieves were on one side, and I on the other as the guards described what they found. Before they could finish though the ancient spoke.

“You,” he said, pointing to the thief who'd cut me. “You were banished from my city.” There was a pause, as if to give the offender a chance to explain.

The man didn't say anything, simply spat on the ground.

“Execute him, feed his body to the fish,” was Atal's response to that.

He was pulled from the room, but went quietly, simply glaring. As he was removed the guards finished with their observations.

The two remaining thieves were given a chance to speak. The one with the broken knee went first.

“We meant no ill ancient, we were merely confused, and entered the wrong house,” he lied, trying to smile nervously.

The other went for a completely different route. He looked younger, and terrified. “Please have mercy,” was all he said.

Then it was my turn. I briefly described how I'd found them in my home and disabled them, keeping things brief.

“Your leg is damaged, it will be cut off,” Atal said after brief consideration to the injured thief. “Then both of you shall become servants for ten years.”

My guess was that the man who would soon be crippled would be offered the chance to have his injury healed. Of course that would come at a cost, and by that manner would he be kept longer. Either that or he'd have to struggle with being unable to walk, which was practically a death sentence. Even if it didn't seem like it, I did have to agree that there'd been some mercy to the thief who'd asked for it.

As we prepared to leave I was spoken to. “Wait,” Atal said.

“Ancient?” I asked, turning to face him.

“I would speak with you, remain here until this is done.”

The only words that passed through my mind were 'Oh crap'.