Waving his scepter around loosely, the dark purple orb trapped in wooden claws glowing radiantly, the black-robed man laughed playfully.
His eyes darted around to everyone present, even Roman and the knight, who was slowly losing consciousness. Azim, with Leone and Riva close behind, stood in front of the man in armor as well as his mosstail. The group was wary of their current predicament but did not let their nerves get the best of them, least of all, Azim. The dark-skinned man in front of the adventurers was clearly enjoying the display in front of him.
“What’s going on, man?” Leone yelled to the witch, grunting afterward from exerting himself. “What did you do to him?”
“Hm? Oh!” replied the man coyly, momentarily feigning ignorance at the young man’s questions. “Think of it as a sort of safety measure. A bit of insurance on my part. Plus, it makes the whole thing a bit more fun.”
Leone rushed forward, brushing past Azim and ignoring his still-recovering injuries. “What the hell, man?! Speed—“
Throwing his scepter-holding arm off to the side, swinging the magic item, the witch sent out a thick, purple beam of hard light toward the young man. It writhed through the like a rope, showing past Leone before swinging in the direction that the bald-robed man moved his arm. The thick rope of light smacked into the young man, interrupting his spell cast and knocking him against the edge of the witch’s barrier.
As Leone started to get up, the purple beam that hit him continued to flow, wrapping itself around the young man and constricting his arms to his sides. The coiled light then gravitated to the edge of the barrier, sticking to the inside of the dome and keeping Leone held in one place. He started to speak, but quickly felt a tiring sensation wash over him, as if his stamina was drained right out of him. “Wha— What? What’s happening...?” the caught young man asked.
“Hm…” pondered the witch, who seemed to be staring at Leone intently. “Whoa, you do not have a lot of magic, do you? What is that… seems like… I can’t— Level 7? Is that what I’m getting from you? A base magic level of 7?”
“Shut U-Ugh!” Leone tried to shout, though he was squeezed by the constricted band of light around him.
“You guys came in here with only level 7 magic? Aw, that’s tragic.”
Riva then spoke up against the witch, “Hey! You let him go! If you want us to leave here, we will, but please—“
Another beam of purple light flew out from the dark-skinned man’s scepter. The rope of hard light wrapped around the woman just as it had Leone and flung against the other side of the mauve barrier, rendering her immobilized. She yelped as the beam of energy smacked her into the dome’s wall.
Like he did with Leone, the witch started to stare more intensely at Riva. She looked at him with contempt, though he paid no attention to her expression. “Hm…” the man studied. “What?! Level 4? That’s the best you got? You’re even worse off than him, why are you even here?!”
Despite the severity of the situation, Azim turned to Riva and commented, “It seems as though your magic level was greater than you expected, likely because of our time together. Congratulations, Riva.”
“Thank you, Azim, dear,” the woman replied, unsure how to respond to the robot’s tone-deaf comment. “Can... mm… Can you help us, please?”
“Yes, of course, I apologize,” resounded the android, returning his attention to the black-robed man, who just grinned.
The witch spoke up, “And then there’s you— … uhm… hello?”
Azim looked around at his surroundings, completely ignoring the robed bald man. The dome that encapsulated them blocked off every bit of the rest of the floor, even the visibility of it. The barrier itself was cloudy and opaque like tinted windows, and it blurred the vision through it so that Azim and the others could not see anything happening outside. In the time that the group had been trapped, there had been two or three pulses that emanated from sections of the dome, suggesting that other combatants had tried breaching it, or had just been smacked into it. Whatever had been happening outside, it seemed to have subsided. There had not been any more disturbances for a minute or two, and most of the blurry blobs of who was outside seemed farther away now.
The robot’s companions were trapped in light-made restraints against either end of the dome, their stamina being drained from them. Not only that, but the witch was seemingly able to peer into the minds of them while they were being held hostage. Roman was behind him, though Azim did not want to involve the mosstail in any bit of the current situation. The knight was fading fast and needed attention as soon as possible. Until then, he was the only one able to do anything. But could he?
The witch’s magic was all light and energy-based, so there was nothing for Azim to mess with. Meanwhile, most of the knight’s armor had been ripped off by him and was scattered about outside the barrier. The black-robed man himself did not seem to have any metal on him, as his outfit was void of armor, and his scepter of made of wood. As far as he could ascertain, Azim’s only materials to work with were the unconscious knight’s remaining armor, Leone’s small knife, and everything he was made up of.
Just then, Azim’s moss-covered pet trotted over to Riva, whining at the sight of her in distress. “Roman, please return here, it is not safe,” Azim beckoned.
“Aww, look how sweet, the little guy is so worried,” mocked the bald man. “Well, if that’s what has your attention, why don’t we just take care of that right now?”
With another flick of his scepter, a familiar beam of light shot out from the ominous, purple orb and flew toward the mosstail. Azim, concerned for the safety of his new pet, ran toward the incoming beam of violet. “No!” exclaimed the robot in a loud monotone.
“Ah ah,” toyed the witch., who swung the robe of light so that it knocked Azim back away from Roman. “I couldn’t have your attention then, you don’t get mine now. Just be patient.”
Just as it had the first two times, the black-robed man’s beam of light bumped into the mosstail before wrapping completely around it. Roman tried to snip and claw at the floating rope of purple as it approached him, but was unsuccessful. Soon enough, the moss-covered creature was suspended against the dome’s wall, right next to the woman the animal had worried about.
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Unamused by the catlike creature’s capture, Azim slowly turned his head back to the dark-skinned witch. “You… are not a good person,” the robot spoke softly.
“You’re the one who made a fool of my champion,” retorted the robed bald man, seemingly ignoring the intimidating presence of the robot. “So who’s the real victim here?”
“I.. don’t— I believe that…” the robot was confused. Were he and his companions somehow in the wrong? He had not thought so, but could he have been wrong? After all, the witch had been on this floor before them. By all accounts, they might have been intruders to him. Azim thought about how he possessed the knight, but… was that a form of self-defense? Was he not strong enough to fight on his own? But here and now, he seemed to be perfectly in control. It embarrassed the android to think it, but he was at a loss for what to do.
All of a sudden, a stream of purple light smacked into the robot and flung him back, landing him awkwardly on top of the knight, half-caught in his cloak. From across the way, the dark-skinned man laughed. “What the hell, man? I was kidding, why did you take that so seriously? Was that really a moral conundrum for you? Hell, man, next time, just listen to your friends.”
Getting back up, Azim was speechless, staring at the man in front of him with no words of rebuttal. He summoned the remaining pieces of the knight’s armor, leaving the unconscious man in nothing but a chainmail under-suit and black trousers, and melded them to the robot’s own body, giving himself an extra suit of armor around his own. The man with the scepter was amused. “Two suits of armor? Really?” he asked in a teasing manner. “Or… one and a half, I guess. What’s the plan with that?”
Still, the android refused to speak. The witch sent forth the same beam of purple light he had used 3 times already, hoping to ensnare the robot as well. Azim, however, was ready. He ducked out of the way and charged forward toward the dark-skinned man. The man, in response, waved his scepter so that the rope of light swung back around, though Azim skillfully dodged it yet again. Even with all the rapid gyrations of the purple rope, Azim managed to duck and dodge and roll out of the way each time.
Running by Leone, Azim cast Scrap Return and snatched his hidden knife.
As the thick rope of purple light whisked around the dome, smacking into the walls and almost hitting Leone, Riva, and Roman, Azim advanced toward the witch. When the robot noticed the swinging light beam getting dangerously close to his companions, he started to change to a more defensive and protective stance. One that the black-robed witch picked up on. He waved his scepter once more, this time purposefully sending the beam of light to collide with Riva and Roman.
Azim, noticing the change in the scepter’s direction, sprang into action. He halted his advance on the robed bald man and darted toward the woman and his pet. The robot thought back to his recent encounter with the borcs and the leader’s changing blade. He considered the advice he had given along his short journey, recalling Reavius and his advice for how to go about casting spells when only able to use metal magic.
As he drew closer to the purple rope of light, and it drew closer to his friends, he leaped. Winding the small blade behind his left shoulder, he stopped thinking. The metal man simply stared at the situation before him… and let automated instinct take over.
Riva watched in amazement as Azim’s new blade sliced through the energy beam like butter. The blade was crude, rough and simple. It was not some fancy transmogrification that changed an unassuming knife into a beautiful, ornate sword with gold trimmings or a winged cross-guard, nor was it an even more devilish-looking weapon, one that warped and distorted itself into an utterly grotesque and twisted shape. Rather, the knife had simply grown in size. About a dozen times its size, in fact, though it had no change to its appearance in any way beyond that.
Rolling his eyes, the robed bald man dryly muttered, “I’ve seen this already… Come on, do a flip or something.”
Azim landed promptly on the ground, the attack severed and his companions safe, and a new weapon in hand. He rushed the bald witch once more, this time swinging his oversized knife in front of him to parry the man’s attacks. The dark-skinned man swashed and swayed his scepter, winding a new light beam in all directions, but Azim was quick to parry and cut through each attempt.
Finally, the bald witch receded his attack, stopping the beam from shooting out of his scepter’s cloudy orb. He raised his arm high as if to fire a beam, causing Azim to raise his guard in preparation. Then in a quick feint, and with the android in position, he fired the purple light once more, low, smacking into Azim in a direct hit. “Hah!” shouted the man, proud of his successful attack.
The purple strand of light began to wrap itself around Azim, just as it had the others. As it coiled, the android just stood still, not attempting to resist in the slightest. It made the witch curious, though he dismissed any idea of peculiarity and chalked it up to the metal man’s strange demeanor as a whole. With a backward flick of his scepter, he flung the ensnared robot toward himself, spinning Azim so his back was turned to the witch as he did.
“Let’s see…” the man pondered, staring at the large weapon Azim had hidden behind his back. “Why don’t we get rid of this, shall we?”
Casting another spell from his wand, the black-robed man caught the sword in a purple coating, which soon started to pull away from Azim. After a couple of seconds of resistance, the blade finally broke free from the robot’s grasp. “Woah!” grunted the bald man. “That’s some grip strength you’ve got, man.”
Leone’s transfigured knife floated in the air, coated in a thin, purple veil. Turning Azim back around to face the witch, the man said nothing as he shot the suspended sword past the two of them and out of the dome that surrounded them. It sank through the wall of the barrier and flew out into the crowd of the rest of the floor, stabbing some random elf hunter sneaking up on a gnome.
Holding the restrained robot in front of him, the black-robed witch eyed the strange, metal man. “Come on, was that really all you had in you? I was expecting more,” the man mocked. “Now let’s just take a peep inside— What? Wait…”
However, before the witch could finish whatever he was examining, he was surprised to see, despite his supposed control of the situation, the robot slip free of his restraints. Just before the man could reach at whatever he was starting to see in the metal stranger, Azim slipped through the coiled band of light, leaving behind only the extra pieces of armor he had pulled from the knight. How could he have done that? The witch did not have any time to process. In an instant, Azim was face to face with the black-robed witch, his torn cloak flowing behind him, throwing out a sucker punch capable of punching a hole straight through the man’s clothes. It made it all the more surprising to Azim when the attack missed, and the robed bald man was somehow several meters away from him.
“Woah! Woah!” the man shouted, firing off a burst of energy that smacked Azim into the wall along with his trapped companions. “Easy, killer! You almost hit me, there!”
Azim was stiff, staring at the dark-skinned witch without saying a word. The man kept talking when realizing the robot was not going to say anything in return. “You’re pretty funny, you know that? Not many people break out of that spell so easily. And yet, what I thought I saw…. I know it couldn’t… but… hm….”
Suddenly, the robed bald man paused himself, staring stoically back at the android. The two stared at one another for a few moments, neither one of them saying a word. The man looked over at the robot’s companions, the young man with the twists and the woman in the floral dress, the knight stripped of his armor, and the clearly stray mosstail. He peered out through his dome-shaped barrier, as if he could see what was going on outside of it. He returned his gaze to the metal man. He thought about what he had started to peer into when holding the stranger in his spell.
“You know what? You’re free to go.”
Not ever needing someone to repeat themself, for he was aware his “hearing” was by all accounts perfect, Azim simply replied, “Why?”
“Ha Ha! No reaction? Just curiosity? See, this is what I mean, man. You… you’re something else, you really are. Seriously though, we’ll meet again, I know we will. But in the meantime, you better say your goodbyes.”
“What do you mean by ‘goodbye’s’?”