Despite how cold his tone was, Dalric’s rage burned hot. He didn’t want these two’s heads, he wanted to burn the entire facility to the ground.
The brute paid his words no mind. Instead, he silently settled into his stance and inched closer. His accomplice however, was as vocal as ever.
“Mr. Dalric, what a rude accusation.”
His smug tone was mildly annoying before, but now it actively grated on Dalric’s ears. He’d have to beat it out of him.
“These are prisoners.”
Though Dalric could hear his voice, he could neither see nor sense him. Even the voice itself was directionless, it appeared to arrive from everywhere and nowhere at all. The man had become a ghost.
Interesting, but no more.
Almost instantaneously, one of the streaks of black lightning shot from Dalric and encircled the slow approaching brute. The lighting didn’t touch his body, anything more than a scratch would kill him, but it did capture him in a small sphere of destruction. Nothing could pass in or out of it, unless Dalric willed it.
“I have no interest in a verbal spat, the truth is in front of me.”
The room that held Dalric's former cell rested at the end of a hall that had two long rows of similar cells. Few were unoccupied, none were unshackled. The vast majority of the imprisoned were valinoids, mostly humans of course, but there were others as well. Creatures Dalric had never seen before.
None of that was what summoned his rage however. They could be behind bars for any number of reasonable reasons. It was what he saw on the levels above that revolted him.
He instantly gathered lighting in his palms, then spiralled it around his hands. Jumping from knuckle to knuckle, it rapidly gained momentum. Soon it zapped around his fingers so quickly it appeared as if he merely wore black gloves. If it wasn’t for the sound, that is. Though the streaks were tiny in comparison to what Thunderfield was meant for, their roar still ruptured eardrums.
“Agh! You fuc—”
“Found you.”
Spotting the drop of blood that fell from the ceiling, Dalric shot three streaks of lighting behind him. He didn’t know precisely where he was and he didn’t want to kill him just yet, so instead of the tight sphere he had formed around the brute, he made this cage cylindrical and spacious. Three fathoms spacious.
It eclipsed the entire width of the hall, cell to cell. Even though the man had moved since his blood first fell, he was still locked within its barrier.
The moment the cage closed around him, his spells dropped. And so did his body. As his presence reemerged, his head smacked the floor. He might have actually managed to escape capture if not for the wall marking the end of the hall. Alas.
He staggered to his feet with blood still flowing from both of his ears.The spiralling bolts no doubt compounded the pain. Dalric took great pleasure in the haggard look on his face, he’d already lost his grin. It was replaced by the stunned confusion of one losing access to their spells for the first time. He clearly tried to cast them anew, but found his ahjer uncooperative.
Dalric turned away from him. He was no longer a potential threat. Dalric’s lightning did a much better job of disrupting ahjer flow than any enchantment they could get their hands on.
Though he did hope the metal bars were good enough to protect the prisoners from his earlier soundwave. Even though they manifested as lightning, the black bolts were not what they appeared. Every property they shared with thunder’s counterpart was a mimicry made by ahjer, including their sound. He had gambled on the enchanted bars honing in on that and dampening the concussive noise.
There was no guarantee they would though, the enchantments they used out here were noticeably weaker than the cell that held him moments ago. To make sure, he peered behind the bars of the cell to his right as walked toward the brute. Thankfully, the creature inside looked unharmed. By him at least. Seeing the scars on all six of the creature's legs reignited the fire in his chest.
He’d free them soon, but for now the bars that kept them captive would also protect them for whatever Dalric had to do. Fortunately, they were all, as far as he could tell, unconscious.
"Now then." He reached past his own lightning and gripped the brute’s shoulder. Before he could attempt to slice off Dalric’s arm, he was flung into his cohort. The act did little damage, the man was somewhat heavy so Dalric’s one-armed throw just didn’t have the power. That didn’t matter in the least, though. Both of the slave traders’ cages merged
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They tried to regroup as Dalric strolled over, but spells were still lost to them. They had no means of putting up any kind of defensive or offensive.
That didn’t stop them from trying.
~I conjure: Bear Skin Armor~
Odd incantation.
It didn't work obviously, but the peculiar makeup of the incantation piqued Dalric's interest. He had never heard an incantation spoken in such a manner. There were far more important things to get to, but that was a clue he’d keep in mind.
"Don't waste—"
~I invoke: Break Chains~
~I invoke: Dreadful Eye~
“You can not—”
~I conjure: Senna’s Shield~
~I invoke: Silent Whis—
"Silence!” His fist drove into one chin, before backhanding another, “You disgusting, depraved animals. You have no ahjer, you have no spells. You have nothing!” He stomped on them both, “Explain what's going on in this camp now or you will feel the pain of a thousand deaths. I promise it."
Lips split with a boot mark on his spine, the brute didn’t back down one bit, "You won’t live long enough to keep that promise."
Just as he finished speaking, Dalric’s palm seemingly teleported onto his throat, “Won’t I?”
He didn't squeeze, instead, he let his lightning hover above the brute’s skin. Visually, nothing happened, but the deafening screams told a different story. Dalric stopped the barrier from destroying sound waves as the brute belted his lungs out. He instantly lost control of his body. The level of pain he was experiencing was likely greater than anything he could have ever imagined.
Dalric stared at his convulsing limbs with a seething hatred. This was exactly what he deserved. This was—
He dropped him and took a deep breath. Torture was beneath him. Beyond that, he didn’t have all the facts. His anger had its place, but it could not lead him. Though he knew they were some form of slave traders, he needed to make sure he understood the situation fully. Then, he would kill them and be done with it.
“Speak. Unless you would like a turn.”
The other man just stared at him in shock, his eyes occasionally darting to peek at still twitching body. Dalric had been gentler with him. He needed one of them to talk and this one seemed the more likely.
“Speak. Now.”
Still, he just stared.
“Right. You’re still deaf.”
The man scurried away as Dalric reached toward him to attempt to heal him. It was in that moment that he realized his arm no longer had the faint throb that had been there since he failed to fully heal it.
He could be curious about that later, for now.
“Hold still.”
Thankfully, repairing his ears was a straightforward matter. Unlike the sight fiasco a bit ago, it seemed eardrums were similar enough across races that he could do a satisfactory job. He hadn’t fully restored his eardrums, but all he needed was for the man to be able to hear him.
Once Dalric was done fixing the man’s hearing, he went back to questioning him, “Who are you and what are you doing here?”
“We are… we’re just… pawns! We’re just pawns! This isn’t our operation at all! We were just hired to protect this place.”
Very likely story.
“I’m sure. What is ‘this place’, exactly?”
“It’s a… um. It’s a transfer facility. The uh… people arrive. They’re sorted and uh… they get shipped elsewhere.”
Dalric wanted to choke the bastard then and there, but he calmed himself. He was stalling. Dalric had let the brute’s scream reverberate in hopes that those scurrying above would take the hint to stay away, but that clearly wasn’t going to plan. Even if he hadn’t been able sense that some similarly strengthed individuals were making their way to him, he could hear their footsteps.
He was fairly sure everything he’d just been told was nonsense. It seemed the brute wasn’t a good enough example.
“We not um… involve uh sort any. Secure focus and—”
Dalric didn’t even bother mentally translating, “Hold that.”
Barely turning to look, he calmly caught the fiery red blade zipping towards his skull. He had no need to, the lightning would have stopped it anyway, but nonchalant dominance would paint a more vivid image in the eyes of his soon to be informant. He’d identified the man as spineless and easy to intimidate, he just needed to show him that no amount of help would be able to save him.
The blade in his hand attempted to set his whole arm ablaze for his theatrics, but he quickly overpowered it with his ahjer.
Hm?
As he brought it to his face to examine it, it dissipated into mist. Or at least that's how it appeared, in reality its conjurer simply dispelled it and called for another one. The mist part was a mere trick, but the ability to create and sustain a fully ahjer constructed weapon without an incantation was fairly high level. For that weapon to also have an attunement? He’d be quietly impressed if he wasn’t still completely revolted.
He looked towards the new arrival, “Don't come alone, wait for your friends. It’d be tedious to do this more than once.”
That was only partially true, the full truth was he was rapidly running out of ahjer. He was almost completely out. If the fight dragged too long he’d have to disconnect from Thundefield and switch to using incantations. That would truly be troublesome.
“Amusing.” The newcomer had a very strange accent.
A dozen red blades appeared between him and Dalric. They all burned brightly, brimming with fire-attuned ahjer.
“You won’t get the chance to fight more than once.”