Chapter : 71
"Don't matter what it is!" the leader roared, trying to rally his crumbling courage, recognizing that retreat now ant utter humiliation. "He's just one man! We got spirits! Summon!"
With desperate urgency, the three n focused inwards, drawing on their own ager reserves of Spirit Power. The air around them crackled with three distinct, weaker energy signatures.
From the leader burst a creature resembling a large, sleek black cat, but wreathed in flickering flas of an unnatural, icy blue. It hissed, arching its back, blue fire dripping from its ethereal whiskers. A Bluefla Lynx, Lloyd identified it. Basic fire affinity, decent agility, but low power output.
The lanky man summoned his spirit – a hyperactive squirrel, larger than normal, with fur standing on end, crackling with tiny sparks of yellow electricity. It chittered aggressively, darting back and forth. A Sparktail Squirrel. Basic lightning, fast but fragile. (No, it's not pickachu.)
The stocky man produced perhaps the most visually alarming, yet ultimately weakest, of the three: a lumbering dog, seemingly sculpted from cooling, cracked lava. Heat radiated from it, and dribbles of molten rock dripped from its maw. A Magma Hound. Slow, tough hide, weak fire projection.
Three Manifestation-level spirits. All distinctly low-tier, probably reflecting the limited potential of their masters. Compared to Fang, even in his slightly fatigued state, they were like candle flas next to a bonfire. Compared to Redborn? They were practically decorative.
Right, Lloyd assessed clinically. Elental mismatch. Fire, lightning, more fire/earth. Annoying, but manageable.
"Get him! Sic 'em!" the leader scread, pointing a trembling finger at Lloyd.
The Bluefla Lynx hissed again and darted forward, launching a small ball of flickering blue fire. The Sparktail Squirrel zipped up onto the leader's shoulder, chittering furiously, gathering electrical energy for a weak bolt. The Magma Hound lumbered forward, opening its jaws to release a pathetic spurt of molten slag that splattered harmlessly several feet short of Lloyd.
Lloyd didn't even flinch.
With effortless flicks of his wrists, guided by pure intent, several of the gleaming steel wires surrounding him lashed out.
Swish! One wire intercepted the blue fireball mid-air, slicing cleanly through the magical construct, dissipating it into harmless azure sparks.
Zip! Another cluster of wires ford a shimring, montary shield that deflected the Sparktail's weak electrical discharge uselessly into the ground.
Clang! A third wire t the lumbering Magma Hound head-on, not cutting, but delivering a sharp kinetic blow to its snout that sent the creature stumbling back with a surprised yelp, shaking its rocky head.
The spirits paused, montarily confused by the effortless neutralization of their attacks. Their masters stared, dumbfounded.
"My turn," Lloyd murmured, a predatory gleam entering his eyes.
The cloud of fine wires around him surged outwards. They didn't aim for the scavengers themselves, but for their spirits. Why waste energy on the puppets when you can cut the strings?
The Bluefla Lynx tried to dodge, relying on its feline agility, but the wires moved faster, anticipating its movents. A dozen threads instantly wrapped around its limbs and torso, binding it tightly, the cold steel seeming to sizzle against its blue fire, disrupting its energy flow. It yowled in surprise and pain, pinned helplessly.
The Sparktail Squirrel tried to dart away, but a cage of shimring wires snapped shut around it before it could build speed, trapping it mid-air, its frantic electrical discharges grounding harmlessly against the conductive tal.
The Magma Hound proved slightly tougher, its rocky hide resisting the initial binding attempts. But Lloyd simply sent more wires, weaving an intricate net that enveloped the creature, tightening, constricting, not cutting, but applying imnse, inescapable pressure. The Hound struggled, roaring, trying to lt the wires, but the steel held firm, its sheer quantity overwhelming the spirit’s low-level heat.
Within seconds, all three spirits were neutralized, bound, struggling futilely within gleaming, inescapable prisons of steel wire. Their masters watched, aghast, their primary weapons rendered utterly useless.
"H-how?" the leader stamred, staring at his ensnared Lynx. "Iron manipulation shouldn't be that fast! That fine!"
"Who said anything about iron?" Lloyd replied softly, the cloud of wires around him beginning to contract slightly, drawing closer, their whispering hum intensifying.
He could end it here. Crush the spirits, potentially causing severe backlash to their masters. Or he could simply hold them, demonstrating absolute superiority. But the fatigue was starting to bite. He needed to finish this quickly, decisively, and hopefully learn sothing in the process. He needed a knockout blow.
His mind flashed to Earth again. Not to ani this ti, but to basic physics. Ballistics. Projectiles. Concentrated force delivered at range. He looked at his hands. He could manipulate steel. He could generate heat, though he was conserving that now. Could he combine those?
Forget wires, the thought sparked. Solid projectiles.
Chapter : 72
He focused, drawing Void energy, shaping it not into threads, but into small, dense spheres held within his cupped palms. He compressed the nascent steel, making it incredibly hard. He imbued it with just a touch of his internal fire, not enough to make it glow visibly red-hot, but enough to give it a searing thermal signature upon impact. He felt his limited Spirit Power stir, the ager energy he’d cultivated earlier. Could he use that as a propellant? Not channeling it through a weapon, but using its raw kinetic potential?
Modern knowledge ets dieval magic, he thought, a thrill running through him despite the situation. Let's try so improvised ammunition.
He shaped three spheres, each about the size of a large marble, dense, heavy, radiating a faint, almost imperceptible heat. They spun slowly in his palms, humming with contained energy.
He took aim. Not at the scavengers, but at their struggling, bound spirits. Precision wasn't key here; overwhelming force was.
"Ti for a field test," he muttered. Then, pouring a directed burst of his own limited Spirit Power behind each sphere like releasing a compressed spring, he launched them.
They didn't fly like arrows or bolts. They shot forward with startling velocity, propelled by raw spiritual force, spinning rapidly, emitting a low, angry buzz from the friction and the internal heat. Three miniature cannonballs of superheated, spinning steel.
THWACK! The first bullet hit the bound Magma Hound square in the chest. The impact didn't just chip the rock; it shattered it. Cracks spiderwebbed across the spirit's form, followed by a concussive shockwave. The Hound roared, its form flickering violently, then dissolving into dissipating smoke and pebbles, the binding wires falling slack.
FZZEET-CRUNCH! The second bullet slamd into the cage holding the Sparktail Squirrel. The spinning, heated tal tore through the fine wires and obliterated the small spirit in a shower of sparks and electrical discharge. It vanished instantly.
WHUMP! The third bullet struck the struggling Bluefla Lynx. The impact was devastating. The spirit let out a final, choked yowl as the superheated sphere punched clean through its ethereal form, leaving a sizzling hole, before the entire Lynx dissolved into wisps of rapidly fading blue smoke.
The backlash hit the three scavengers simultaneously. They cried out, clutching their heads or chests, staggering as the sudden severing of their spirit bonds, coupled with the violent dissipation, sent jolts of sympathetic pain racking through their bodies. Their faces went pale, sweat pouring, eyes rolling back slightly. They wouldn't be summoning those spirits again anyti soon; the drain, the shock to their cores, was imnse.
They stared at Lloyd, not with anger now, but with raw, naked terror. What was he? Iron manipulation? Fine wires? And now… launching spinning tal death-orbs from his bare hands? This wasn't just a tricky lordling; this was a monster.
"Any further objections?" Lloyd asked quietly, the cloud of fine wires still swirling gently around him, a silent promise of more pain to co. He held another spinning, faintly humming steel bullet loosely in his palm, letting them see it.
That was the final straw.
"N-no! None!" the leader choked out, scrambling backwards, tripping over his own feet in his haste. "We're leaving! We're gone! Didn't see nuthin'!"
"Yeah! Gone!" echoed the other two, practically crawling away before finding their legs and breaking into a desperate, stumbling run back towards the direction they ca, casting terrified glances over their shoulders.
"A ssage for your employer!" Lloyd called after their retreating backs, his voice carrying easily. "Tell whoever sent you – Rubel or otherwise – that the next ti they send dogs, they should expect to lose them. Permanently."
They didn't slow down, just ran harder, vanishing into the whispering grass like startled rabbits.
Lloyd watched them go, the steel bullet in his hand dissolving back into latent energy. He let the cloud of wires around him dissipate as well, feeling the strain ease slightly. The improvised bullets had worked, surprisingly well. Crude, definitely not optimized, but effective. Another tool for the arsenal. Combining Void shaping with Spirit Power propulsion… interesting potential there.
He looked down at Fang, who gave a tired but satisfied 'woof', nudging his hand. "Yeah," Lloyd agreed, scratching the wolf behind the ears. "Idiots." He surveyed the now-quiet field, the ten sheep carcasses waiting. "Right. Let's secure this site and figure out how to get paid without ending up cursed or broke." The hunt was over, but the work, as always, was just beginning.
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