Pink, red, and dark red organs start falling out of the old man's belly, some tiny bits completely detach to flop on the warehouse's dirt with a squishy noise. He struggles with the strips of his ripped robe to try to keep his innards inside, ending up shoving both cloth and guts back in.
“Fuck.” The Lieutenant swears in shock.
I hear gulping sounds around me. Some of the spectators can't handle the sight and start vomiting. I wipe my weapon on the bourgeois' robe and sheathe it to grab him by the throat as he struggles to make a healing construct to stop the bleeding.
“You crazy... Just because he knew doesn't mean he was involved!” An officer explodes with a pale face. Too far, too quick it seems. End it. I will, but not yet.
“I'm innocent, save me!” The old man screams.
“Yea? Let's test that out, shall we?” I reply with a flat voice, cutting off the argument.
I seize my umbrella and flip around. All the spectators jump away, even those still throwing up. I stomp back towards the tunnel while dragging the old bourgeois behind. This time, some of them immediately follow as if drawn by a morbid fascination and curiosity towards what I'll do.
I throw a look back. They're all Nobles and bourgeois I suspected. The Lieutenant is squinting at them with a harsh expression. The man didn't forget to pay attention despite his disagreement with my actions, these people don't realize they gave themselves away.
“No, let me go!” The dead man yells as I drag him down the stairs by the neck. “Not this! Don't do this!” He can't fight back because it's taking all he has not to let his innards drop on the steps.
I get a sick feeling in my stomach as I step in the circular room. I launch the old bourgeois at the altar in disgust and reach out to the runes engraved in the walls to send my flow in.
The runes resist me but I quickly figure out that the old bourgeois is the one interfering so I send a small stream of energy to slap him. He crumbles back down but doesn't let go of the runes in spite of this and the constant pain he must be in.
“You have no idea what it will do!” The Lieutenant warns but doesn't try to stop me.
“He seems quite knowledgeable about what's going to happen and how to stop it for an innocent.” I sarcastically comment. “I'm sure these cowards made it perfectly safe for those outside the pool.”
“Bitch!” The old man swears as he pushes a length of intestine back in his shredded belly.
I start forcefully activating the runes one by one, ignoring the man's attempt to hinder me. The construct chugs and fails to activate several times but the failures teach me which runes are most central so I focus on those.
The old man fails to keep up and, once the runes activate he lets out a howl of despair. Those watching show blank expressions but their eyes don't leave the man for a minute. Rowland is standing behind the group with a hard expression.
“What are you doing?” The Lieutenant asks intently.
“Not a clue, ask him?” I reply pointing to the old bourgeois just as the altar starts shaking.
The gutted man starts shaking uncontrollably and whining with a desperate expression. The altar starts making a strident sound and he suddenly starts screaming.
Clink. Thin metal nails three centimeters long emerge out of the altar, piercing the crust of dried blood with a mechanical sound. Blood splashes out of his guts and his limbs break all at once without warning.
“Aaarrrrh!” The old man screams.
“Okay, that's worse than I thought it would be.” I calmly acknowledge.
“Stop it!” The Lieutenant snaps.
“Why? He...” I start.
“She's bleeding me dry!” He yells.
“Clearly did this to others before.” I finish.
I supply a few more portions of flow to the runes because they're burning through energy. The bourgeois' guts turn golden as he starts using his own flow to struggle against the torment.
I find it odd he waited until now. There is likely a disruption construct because the blood seeping out from under him has a slight golden glow that isn't tied to a construct, meaning he's using unstructured energy.
“What is this doing to him?” The Lieutenant asks over the man's screams.
“Bleeding him dry, as he said.” I reply with a flat tone. “If I had to guess, I would say this alter is designed to torture the victim until they fight back.”
“To what purpose?” Rowland asks, baffled.
“Let's see.” I murmur while crouching.
“Aarr...” The screams die down as the man loses consciousness.
The blood slowly pouring into the pool has a slight golden tint. From all appearances, the old bourgeois is no longer connected to it so it should be free for the taking. I link to it and find out that, indeed, I can make use of the energy.
“This altar is meant to empower the blood they collect with the victim's energy and intent.” I tell them the obvious answer.
“What?” The Lieutenant blinks.
“The altar's function is to bleed the victim dry while torturing them in such a way they have to use unstructured energy to fight back, as a consequence their flow mixed in with the blood they lose with intent to survive already guiding it. All they would then have to do is preserve the blood and they have a powerful reserve to dig into that can be used to defend against most of anything.” I explain. I dip my pinky into the pool and find it much too hot. “It seems the torture involves heating up blood, which makes sense considering their goal.”
“What a terrifying thing.” The Lieutenant mutters.
“It's clever.” I note. They both throw me look of surprise and horror. “Regardless of your moral outrage, their method is quite clever and it likely took them decades to not only figure out but also apply in a working construct.”
You got all you needed? Yes, but most of this is useless. Liz cuts her link to the runic construct. I connect to the energy I put in the runes and close my hand into a fist, causing the surface layer of the pool's walls to shatter.
“I'm sure you'll do the right thing and don't wait for orders to burn down every book you find in town about this ritual.” I flatly tell the Lieutenant.
“Yes, it's best if these things are destroyed.” One of the influential leaders of the town says.
“I'll personally make sure of it.” The Lady from house Hafjord utters from a dark corner in the back of the group, her eyes diverting from the gruesome scene. “The blasphemy is in how they perverted the Lake's will.” If the Lake had will, or disagreed, would it allow them to exploit its rules like this?
I believe her and the Lieutenant because they genuinely seem shaken but I don't trust the rest to behave once out of my blade's range. Not that it matters, peasants have seen the blood their Countess used so they'll be too busy avoiding the rope or axe to do anything before Edusa arrives.
I return upstairs with Rowland, leaving the Lieutenant to deal with the rest. I quickly rush back to the alley I left the others and, thankfully, find they haven't been attacked.
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The soldiers surveying them got bolder and approached but they immediately scampered off once I made it back. Oddly enough, they seem less scared of Idali than me when she's the one who took out their Countess.
“How are you doing?” I ask the blonde.
“Decent enough to walk, Uhla stopped the bleeding.” She replies.
“How did you take out the Countess?” I question.
“Why ask now?” She returns.
“Because her blood construct was better than I thought.” I reply.
“It's simple, really, I didn't challenge her attacks and went around them. Which, additionally, is how I ruined my leg.” Idali says with a shaky smile.
“We'll have to figure out your limits then.” I tell her. “Let's eat and leave before sundown.”
The four of us depart the alley. We find a corner near a public warehouse close to the plaza and settle there to have our meal. Clamors erupt occasionally from the crowd still gathered there with enough furious calls and cheers to tell me their efforts to prevent escalation aren't going too well.
It's very likely more people got hanged in the half-hour we had our meal. Uhla didn't eat much but Nahl, who looks just as pale, made an effort to swallow his food which isn't too surprising considering his low birth.
Rowland and Idali, on the other hand, don't have any issue but they can be considered hardened veterans within Caeviel. I decide to let them rest and heal for another hour.
Liz and I spend the time experimenting with the blood construct inside our mind. She ends up creating a red construct with gold streams running through it because she's using a base of hardened air to work as a frame to manipulate blood and reinforcing it from within rather than saturating it with energy. Looks gloomy. I like it. It needs some more work. It'll keep me busy.
Contrary to my expectations, the town's inhabitants calm down within this time-frame and we no longer hear any calls for hanging but merely a few angry yells from isolated people that don't manage to draw support from the crowd.
“Alright, let's go.” I speak up.
Idali groans as she stands and Uhla quickly moves to support her. I take the lead and head off, purposefully going into the street blocked by the guards observing us.
One of them, a barely adult young man, glares at me with a look of fear in his eyes. He raises his spear. I hear my cute little companions tense and reach for their weapons.
I throw a flat look at my would be opponent who starts shaking but doesn't back down. One of the Lieutenant's sergeant quickly comes over with a squad of soldiers.
“Let them go, the fight is over.” He softly tells the guards.
The kid's comrades grab his spear and pull it aside before dragging him away. The young guy hangs his head down and struggles against them with a look of utter despair on his face.
“Whatever you resent me for, you're welcome to seek revenge. I'm not likely to kill you.” I coldly tell him. “But make sure you pick your cause well if you get help because you weren't enemies so, today, I held back.”
The youth stops fighting to coldly stare at me as I pass by to make my way out of town. I ignore him, feeling odd inside because I may have been able to end this in a much cleaner way if I took things more seriously and didn't barge in the Countess' small castle so openly.
She chose to pick this fight, it isn't on you. I made her. Hafjord brought this on herself with her cult. I make a thin smile and stop debating because Liz knows that I bear some responsibility.
As we leave town, I spot a column of a couple dozen low born returning with pickaxes on their shoulders wearing gray clothes. It's too early for the day to have ended so they likely received word of what happened.
I glance back and find more people wearing stained mining clothes on the outskirts of town but with less muscle on their frames, some of them are giving their tools back to guards who are storing them in a rather secure stone warehouse.
These are simple peasants who left first while those who do this for a living stayed behind to close the mine. I scowl at the scene and stop in the middle of the road.
The miners on the way back stop a dozen meters from me with puzzled and slightly frightened expressions. I pick up my umbrella and lift it to clearly show my face, which doesn't seem to reassure them much.
“I'm Jessica Freepath.” I introduce myself to the leader, a bulky man.
“Tinek, Dame Freepath.” The man replies with an awkward bow. Odd name.
“I'm no Noble, or especially hung on politeness.” I tell him. “I see they're returning their tools, do you own yours?”
“No, we rent them.” He shakes his head.
“...” I take a deep breath while gripping hard at my umbrella's handle. “That ends today.” I tell the man. “You're going to keep those and tell them to return all the tools in the warehouse to those who use them, for free.”
“I, they belong to the Hafjords, Dame Freepath.” The large man clumsily replies. “Most of the equipment in the region does.”
“Not anymore they don't.” I utter in a voice that brooks no argument. “We will be camping a few kilometers east of town. If they cause you trouble, send word and I will return to set things straight.”
Tinek throws a glance at his companions. Half are trying hard to control their jaws from dropping while the rest are gaping as if they can't believe their luck. It hurts to see that such a small thing as owning their own tools would be so foreign to them.
“I will send one of my own to check on this so don't take any risks if you encounter opposition.” I add, thinking of all the things that could go wrong.
“Is, is it true you killed Lady Hafjord because she dealt with evil forces?” Tianek asks.
“No, she did.” I reply, pointing at Idali over my shoulder. “And she was killing your own for a superstition, there are no dark forces involved.”
Tianek nods frantically and bows. I grit my teeth and leave, unwilling to stay any longer and be complimented for my Nobility as I feel they're about to. The miners let us pass with deference. As promised, we travel a few kilometers through the eastern hills before setting up camp behind a rocky ridge that'll protect us from eventual bad weather during the night.
“Nahl, Row, guard the camp.” I tell them.
Rowland rolls his eyes as he drops his pack of luggage to go find high-ground with Nahl. I hear the two discuss the day's events as they leave with low voices. The ex-Templar isn't as shaken as before but I doubt he'll sleep well.
“Idali, give Uhla a few tips so she doesn't get skewered by a scythe next time.” I tell her as I stare at a small forest wood in the distance.
“Why should I babysit the girl?” Idali tiredly asks.
“Because I told you to.” I reply without turning around to hide my smile.
“At least I can fight without tearing my own leg apart.” Uhla grumbles.
“You fought weaklings and you think you could do better? Come here, let's see if you're still standing after I'm done with you.” Idali snaps back.
“No thanks, not interested.” Uhla says with a touch of disdain.
“Who said I was?!” Idali growls.
I head off with a grin on my face as the two bicker, my revenge complete. I make my way to the woods and start looking for something to hunt. It takes me a good hour to find a mere fox that I spook by crouching to hide from it.
The Nobles in the area seem to have gotten most of the large game so I go deeper into the forest. Let me try, let me try. You're not throwing my broadsword at a fox, or the umbrella's rapier.
Spoilsport. I keep looking but, in the end, I only manage to find a couple of hares that I catch with flow. That's cheating. I don't have a bow or even a javelin, how do you expect me to catch them otherwise?
I'm sure the great Freepath could figure it out. I close my eyes for a brief moment to control my temper and stomp back towards the camp. Oh, you're pouting now, very mature. I very decidedly block out her mockery, which doesn't stop her from nagging at me on the entire way back.
I do regain my smile on arrival because I find Idali and Uhla sitting in the dirt with scratches on their faces, panting like they ran the entire day in woods and ran into more than their fair share of brambles.
“What happened there?” I ask, failing to control my smirk. Uhla presses her lips together and turns away.
“Hgrmhp.” Idali grumbles at me, clearly having taken far more damage than she expected.
“I thought you two got along, I'm so sorry.” I utter the fake apology with an equally fake tone. Idali frowns.
“Wait a moment.” She says. “Did you do this because I carried you out?”
“Is what? All I asked you to do was teach her a bit.” I innocently reply.
“No way.” Uhla mutters as she snaps to me. “I was only making sure she knew what to do if you collapsed!”
“Is that so.” I drawl, unable to help myself. “I'm sure you two can make up if we have a nice hot meal together!” I cheerfully tell them.
“Don't act like you didn't admit to it!” Idali yells as she struggles to get up from her ass and fails.
“I have no idea what you're talking about.” I tell her, blinking exaggeratedly. “I was minding my own business hunting our dinner for the past couple hours.” I turn and walk to the center of the camp to start a fire.
“Wait a second!” Uhla exclaims.
“Jessica!” Idali screams.
I start whistling to make it clear I'm going to pointedly ignore them for the rest of the evening as I savor my revenge. I go to sleep early to relieve Nahl and Rowland for the night shift.
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