Lament of the Slave

Chapter 26: Wounded Beasts

Hal had no choice. He had to try to escape or face execution. Therefore, even though he was surrounded by half a dozen of the best City Guards and was missing a leg, he tried to use magic to jump over the wall standing just a few meters away.

When he was barely three meters above the ground, still far from crossing the barracks wall, a lean guardsman appeared beside him. It almost looked like he teleported next to him, but as with the Captain, I had no idea if he really had such a skill, if it existed at all, or if he was only moving extremely fast, and the darkness lit by the flames was playing tricks on my eyes. Before Hal could react, the guardsman grabbed him by the ankle of his healthy foot and slammed him to the ground right in front of Captain Rayden.

Now I could finally feel the aura radiating from the Captain, protecting my mind, reassuring me as in the interrogation room. I was sure the field skill had a different effect on Hal, who struggled to get up from the ground because I couldn't imagine the Captain having such compassion for this man as to calm his mind. Wondering if it was the same skill she used to suppress his skills and magic before, as he mentioned when arguing with Zander Denholm, or if she was using a completely different one right now, I was curious, wanting to know if I could learn these skills. They seemed useful. But I wasn't going to ask her, not right now.

"Any last words?" Captain Rayden asked him as he managed to sit up, spitting blood from his mouth.

"I surrend ..." was all he managed to say before his head was separated from his body, falling at the feet of the woman who had severed it with a sweep of the sword.

Not expecting something like that to happen, I squeaked a little in shock. I thought the Captain would want to arrest him, interrogate him, and find out who hired him, who was behind it all, but I was wrong.

Unaware of what I should think of Rayden now when she ordered the slave collars be put on the children without hesitation, she executed the man who gave up, the man who had information about people who sent him here, I have decided to believe that she had a good reason for executing Hal. At least for now.

Looking at the limp body of the man I had suffered from so much did not bring me the desired relief. On the contrary, I felt even more concerned. It was clear to me now that he was just a pawn following someone else's orders, someone who was willing to pay a high enough price for my capture to make Denholm attack the Castiana' City Guards.

"You could have tried to escape, take advantage of the commotion he caused," the Captain said to Denholm with her back to him, looking at Hal's head.

"I didn't see a chance with these guys and girls around," he said, referring to the Guards around him.

Now that Hal was dead, all eleven men and women, not counting the Captain and Janina, focused on him.

She turned to him, "But you do not surrender, do you?"

He smiled sadly, "I would be laughing stock if I did."

"How do you think this will end?" She asked.

Denholm smirked, "I was hoping for a duel, you and me, but you refused!"

"I don't see why I should duel you," she shrugged.

I'd love to see Captain fight, but she was right. There was no reason for that, even if Denholm won the duel, which I dared to doubt he would, he would still have to fight the Guards. They wouldn't just let him go.

He nodded and looked around, "All right, boys and girls, show me what you are made of!"

The next moment, I watched in amazement as the air around them exploded in the colors of the clashing auras of nearly a dozen people. The sheer power that clashed just a few meters in front of me gave me goosebumps. The Guards tried to suppress him, but without success. He roared like a wild beast, a burst of energy spreading from him, stopping the Guards dead in their tracks for a moment. His muscles grew, his veins protruded, bringing his power to new heights. I watched his transformation with horror, it was unnatural, painful-looking, and above all, it reminded me of what I had been through. He did not inject himself with the essence of who knows what, though. No, it had to be a skill.