The surrounding guards cast both fervent and fearful gazes on Stanis as he walked past them, seemingly unaware of their stares. They saw the purpose he moved with, and felt their stomachs roll whenever his eyes roved past them. He was a living legend, a myth to those who hadn't seen him fight in person. The tales about him were wild and now each and every guard knew the truth behind them. He was just as strong as Moonshine in their eyes, perhaps even stronger, perhaps strong enough to give Caleb a run for his money.
Stanis, on the other hand, walked with his mind stuck in his thoughts. The village, which had been his personal playground, had quickly rocketed into the huge mammoth of a beast it was now. He no longer knew how to deal with it; he felt powerless. No, it wasn't that he felt powerless like he had in his early days but instead that he wasn't all-powerful anymore. And that sure was a bitter pill to swallow.
Ruun walked in front of him with his chin jutted out. His back was straight and shoulders wide. What had begun as a death-sentence walk was now his catwalk, his chance to show off his skills in hopes of attracting a potential employer. The one behind him, that was. His mixed feelings for Stanis had dissipated after seeing the way Caleb had dealt with him; while he might not be privy to many truths about Stanis, he sure as hell knew many about Caleb, in fact, he had seen them with his own eyes.
The two of them walked out of the defences and towards the centre of the village. The sprawling alleyways were second-nature to Omar and before he even had a chance to wrap up his thoughts, Stanis found himself standing in front of the village hall. It was grander and much larger than he remembered, and all of a sudden the pressure revealed itself to him. He now knew that personal power wasn't enough; his power would be eclipsed in the future by the many through teamwork. What he had to do now, more than intimidate and scare, heck, more than even show off, was to prove that he was a worthy leader they should follow. That they wanted to follow.
He felt Omar's puzzled glance at him and knew it was time to move. If it was a show they wanted, then it was a show they were going to get.
He walked forwards and pushed the doors. They creaked open under his touch and he walked in. Inside was a corridor leading to two doors in opposite directions. In the centre of the corridor was an indent in the wall where sat a reception with a man and woman behind. The man was dressed formally, or as formally as you could get here, and had clearly been picked basely on his appearance. The woman wore fur cloth with scars open to see across her arms and face. She squinted at Stanis and jumped over the table, coming head-to-head with Stanis.
"What'ye doin here?"
Stanis stepped forward and stared. He was now close enough to cop a kiss, or throw a punch; whichever sailed his boat.
The well-dressed man stared at Stanis confused. He knew him from somewhere but couldn't recall from where. It was a second later that the image in his head lined up with the one standing in front of him. His eyes went wild and he immediately called out:
"Stella, stand back,"
She didn't move from her spot but did look back with a clearly distasteful expression.
"H-he's Stanis,"
Stella turned back around and looked closer at Stanis's countenance.
"Boo," he said, and she stumbled back. He ignored her and moved towards the door on the right. He could feel the adrenaline running through his veins; why had he been worried? He was Stanis, the Stanis!
He pushed the set of doors in front of him with force. The doors hurled to their sides and the hinges wailed. He strode through with his head held high and face without expression. Inside the hall was a large, polished, wooden table. Around this table were close to 25 people, each with a varying expression as they looked at Stanis, mostly anger though.
Stanis finally looked across and saw the tens of people staring at him. Among the thirty were many he couldn't recognise, or at least struggled with, but there were also a few he knew well. Directly sitting around the table were three people.
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One was Alyona. She had more bruises on her face and a far more downcast expression than Stanis remembered her having. Behind her stood 6 people, namely Tanya, Ji-yeon, Oogwagway and 3 others Stanis couldn't recall.
Another was a man Stanis couldn't recognise. The man was rotund and wore the fanciest clothes Stanis had seen ever since the apocalypse. Behind him stood 7 people, none of whom Stanis could recognise.
And the last was Drak. Any wrinkles he had previously had were now gone and replaced with a chilling confidence. His figure was still muscular and to his side was a longsword. Behind him stood 9 people, many of whom Stanis recognised. There was Sil, Jayesh, David, Xin, and two other lower powerhouses. The other three were new people to him.
Around the edges of the hall were 3 Jaguars lying across the ground. All three of the Jaguars were tier-three with bright white fur splotched with black spots. They were also, in fact, the first three to recognise Stanis. They quickly got to their feet and waited for his next action.
The next to recognise him was Drak, Alyona and a few of the people Stanis had recognised. It was only the people he had no clue of, such as the portly man, who continued to stare at him with befuddled looks.
"Out with him," Drak immediately commanded. The people Stanis recognised who stood behind Drak hesitated, but the trio he hadn't recognised, alongside 2 from the portly man's crew, closed the net on Stanis.
"Stop," Alyona said. She seemed surprised when Stanis raised his palm at her, seemingly unaware of the group of powerhouses moving closer.
"You don't—" Before she could finish, Stanis raised his palm at her once more.
"Come on then," Stanis said to the powerhouses. "I'll take all of you one by one,"
The two closest to him, both from the portly man's camp, sneered at this comment before stepping up to face him. One swung down an axe while the other chopped at Stanis's hip with a sword. But before either of the strikes could, well, strike, he brushed past the weapons like a ghost and caught both of the men by their necks. Following that, he cast his next spell.
Electricity burst out of his hands and into the men's bodies. They screamed and struggled, before falling limp as the electricity left them and went back into Stanis's body. He didn't cringe at the pain but instead threw the unconscious men to the sides of the hall. They clashed against the walls and crumpled into unsightly lumps, especially to the portly man who looked at his unconscious men with a rising fear.
"COME ON THEN," Stanis repeated to the remaining men. All three of them stepped back, and then took a few more steps for good measure as electricity began to pour out of his arms. The mana fluctuations surrounding Stanis sharpened into blades of their own. But before he let loose, before he killed all who questioned him, he managed to rein back his volatile feelings. He wasn't here to peacock his power; he was here to show that there was more to him than just his strength.
"Men, to me!" Drak shouted. He held his longsword in his hands and stared daggers at Stanis. His eyes told Stanis all he needed to know; I know you're strong, but I'm not scared.
"YOU—" Stanis screamed as he sprinted forward before anyone could even react. The wind bellowed at the three in front of him and toppled them to the side.
"—THINK—" He leapt at Drak who flashed his longsword in response, before swiftly slashing it down.
Stanis dodged the slash and punched Drak in the stomach. Drak recoiled back and raised his sword, although much too slowly as Stanis kicked him in the groin. Stanis stood over the curled up Drak with cold, stretched out eyes.
All of a sudden, however, Stanis felt a force pulling him backwards. It was at least as strong as several men pulling for their lives on his waist, and he stumbled back several steps in shock.
"YOU THINK YOU CAN STOP ME!" he roared in response, before casting Layman's rush and moving towards Drak's downed body faster than before. Before anyone could respond, his hands were already latched onto Drak's shoulders. Electricity cascaded out of him, before shooting back in. One circuit. He increased the outflow and the electricity poured out like a broken pipe. It returned to him and he looked down. Two circuits.
By this time, the whole hall had reacted, but not in the way Drak would have wished for. Instead of closing in on Stanis, they had instead edged away.
Growling, he increased the output to the max and shot it into Drak. The man screamed for his life, literally, but God wasn't listening to any of it. As the electricity returned, Stanis visibly cringed and stepped up to full height. Below him lay the product of his stupid anger, or perhaps his foolish pride. Around him stood the men and women he had come to convince, terrified and amazed but not in the way he had planned.
And behind him stood Omar, edging away towards the door while trying his utmost to not make a peep. He no longer had any wishes of impressing Stanis, no, the man was just as broken as he had initially assumed…