[Garath had a headache. One the size of a specific small girl with snarly hair and protruding cheekbones. He avoided socialization on a good day which today was not due to being given an assignment that required five days of travel, and he was in a particularly annoyed mood. He also talking to himself, both for the sensation of talking and for the added creepiness effect]

“Why would that blasted girl decide to sit at MY table? Didn’t I scare her enough yesterday to keep her from bothering me?” Garath made direct eye contact with the next person he saw just to make sure they still flinched before continuing his one sided conversation. “I didn’t even get to enjoy my dinner. I had to watch her eat with her mouth open the whole time! People call me a savage? At least I have table manners.” He turned to walk into the tunnel towards his room when he realized his bag wasn't with him.

“Damn!” Begrudgingly, he began walking back to the mess hall ranting to himself all the while. As he drew closer, he began to hear cheers from ahead. “My stuff” he murmured as he picked up the pace to destroy whatever fool was messing around in his bag and had the audacity to cheer about it. Never once considering the excitement might be over something completely different. Reaching the doorway he came in, only to find a mob of people surrounding the area between his table and the food. Not knowing the cause, he strode forward towards the table looking for the pouch he set down against the side. There is nothing there but some food stains he hadn’t caused. Glancing up, he stared at the group, knowing that one of them, most likely a certain slime slayer had been in his seat and took his bag.

Turning on his full aura of malice, he squared his shoulders and raised his chin before marching towards the throng of people not farther than fifteen feet away. Normally people would notice him at this distance and disperse upon the first inklings of his slayer aura, but today whatever had them entertained had apparently blocked off their survival instincts. Irritated further, Garath flexed his mind towards the armored man in front of him and pushed, thrusting the metal plate the man was wearing, along with the body in it, through the next two people in the mob.

This got the reaction Garath had hoped for and the crowd around him thinned. He walked past the stragglers and around the confused armored man to see Rhea sprawled out on the ground, blood pooling around her face, with a male and female warrior looming over her. Her forehead bore a stark raw mark and her cheeks both had slices cut into them. The woman had a knife out and was very aggressively shaving her head while the man riffled through her bag. Both glanced up at him as the crowd moved away, but after a glance dismissed him to continue playing with their prey. “Idiots” Garath murmured as they ignored him, but he grew stiff when the man pulled out his pouch from the girl’s patchy bag.

He didn’t even think. One second the man was there grinning down at the pouch and the next all of his veins ruptured, and metal shredded him from every direction. The woman screamed and the onlookers gasped before most hurried away down the tunnel.

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Slayer count: +1 human

Skill Increase: Metal magic lvl 14->15

Dungeon Point Increase: +1 for killing one human (dungeon born)

Wiping away the blood on his face, Garath made eye contact with the rest in the room. Everyone, including the still screeching woman, fled. He reached among the man’s scattered remains to the one unharmed portion near his precious pouch. It held secrets he could not afford to have discovered, especially not now, so he carefully searched it for any signs it was looked through. Given the bag contained an extra dimensional space, he had trouble knowing for sure. Rhea was lying still on the ground next to him, her body nearly bathed in portions of her former abuser. Garath was conflicted on what to do with her. The easy option would be to kill her since she might have looked in the bag and was an unexpected variable in his plan, but he had heard a little of why she was targeted by the couple and genuinely doubted she took his bag for any nefarious reasons. “Damn girl was probably planning to return it to me.” The pressing issue was that he couldn’t leave her. His actions would certainly have officials coming to investigate and while they would let him off after an explanation, she would be imprisoned at best. “Not that I plan to stay here after this anyway,” he murmured. This whole mess pushed up his plans, but there might be a way to use this pathetic excuse for a slayer to make up for the trouble she had caused. It helped, he thought to himself, that killing her wouldn’t raise his slayer count, yet he planned to keep that particular bit of knowledge to himself.

His plan decided, Garath grabbed her off the floor and slung her over his shoulder. He was eternally grateful she was all skin and bones because with his weak physique he wouldn’t have been able to carry her. Walking swiftly out of the mess hall and into the tunnel, he was forced to stop short when a rugged grey hair woman of his own age stepped out of the shadows. “Geeze Leah, I was about to slice your head off.” She scoffed, “Like you could. I know better than to wear metal around you. What’s with the girl? I never took you for the kidnaping type.” Garath gave his childhood friend, and sole human to be permanently on his “Never Kill” list, a smirk before replying. “I didn’t plan to kidnap anyone today, but the little miss made it very difficult not to. We are ditching this place early, you ready?” She gave him a pointed look and lifted up a sack from her feet, “I am always ready, plus I heard the screaming, so I figured we would need to leave.”

The pair (and the unconscious Rhea) made their way out of the tunnel and into a passage hidden near the normal entrance to the slayer base. Both knew the way and were able to travel silently through. Voices echoed behind them, but no one followed them down their secret tunnel that let them out on the other side of the area from the city. No words were spoken, but through a long used language of gestures, they made their way through the dungeon.