Squawks and Lily hobbled down the stairs together and regrouped with Dima, Damas, and Mole in the basent behind the stage. There were a lot of goodies waiting to be picked up by their owners lying around. There was also a pile of guards and would-be owners, courtesy of Damas and Dima.
"Lily! Are you alright?!"
As soon as Lily and Squawks appeared in the basent, their three comrades charged over to check on the injured Lily and make sure she was alive, maybe accidentally pushing Squawks aside at the sa ti.
Squawks just stared at them with shock for a mont before sighing, shaking his head, and heading deeper inside the basent until he found what they were looking for. An iron cage.
Curled up in the deepest corner of the cage was Tair, surrounded by bloody feathers. Although he wasn’t too badly beaten since the rchandise still had to be in decent condition to fetch a good price, Tair hadn’t submitted. He fought, struggled, and resisted with all his might.
Unfortunately, it didn’t do much other than worsen his condition.
"Hey, Tair, was it?" Squawks tapped the iron bars of the cage with his knuckle.
"Are you alive?" He asked. He didn’t get an answer, but he had noticed Tair’s reaction to his na.
His captors could probably have learned it from the Lowat warriors who handed him off. But none of them had bothered learning it, much less using it.
"We’re here on Sosora’s behalf. We’re gonna get you out and back to Tiabe, alright?"
At that, Tair finally opened a swollen eye as much as he could and glanced at Squawks. His other eye refused to open, no matter what he did, so he couldn’t get a clear look. He couldn’t even frown due to the injuries on his face.
"So...so?" He managed to squeeze out with a hoarse and raspy voice.
"Sosora, yes." Squawks nodded and held out his hand for Mole to hand him the key.
"...?" He didn’t get it. He turned around and looked at Mole.
"I think that old man might have had the key to this cage, Captain," Mole explained.
Squawks sighed and banged his hand against the cage. That ant they would have to break it up since there was no way they would be getting hold of that old man.
"Can you pick the lock?" Squawks asked Mole.
"I can try, but I’m not sure if I’ll be fast enough," Mole answered, already inspecting the keyhole.
Squawks’ expression grew determined as he looked at Tair’s sorry figure.
"I’ll use Sky Splitter."
He finally got the others’ attention.
"Are you sure, Captain?" Dima asked.
"I won’t be able to walk afterward, but I can hardly walk right now, so it’s fine. Dima, you’ll just have to carry ."
Dima regretted taking the bait and asking Squawks if he was sure. But he nodded.
Squawks grabbed a nearby sword. It would be a waste to use his own.
He stood in front of the cage with the sword firmly held in both hands.
"Watch out," He said to Tair in a flat tone as he closed his eyes and positioned himself to the side of the cage, away from Tair.
He raised the sword and focused with every ounce of concentration he could muster in the funky-slling basent. The first thing he felt, sothing he could hardly tear his attention away from, was the wound along his leg.
It was both hot and cold, and he could feel the warmth of his body leave him through the blood trickling out. It was also growing numb from the blood loss and the belt tied around the height of his thigh.
He did his best to ignore it. He couldn’t afford any distractions if he wanted to execute Sky Splitter successfully.
Instead, he focused on the muscles in his hips, abdon, torso, back, shoulders, arms, forearms, and wrists. He tightened his grip until his knuckles whitened.
Usually, a loose but firm grip was optimal when wielding a sword. Loose enough to soften the blow of impact, but firm enough that it wouldn’t slip out of his hand.
With Sky Splitter, Squawks didn’t have that luxury. If he didn’t hold on for his life...
It was just better that he made sure to hold on tight.
Like a wave of strength–of power–Squawks tensed his muscles starting from his hips. When that wave reached his torso, he started bringing his weapon down. Even from that point, the tip of his sword ripped apart the invisible air.
The others couldn’t feel it.
Squawks felt it. He always felt it. It was like tearing through cloth with the tip of a dagger.
Tair also felt it. Squawks’ attack disturbed the air in its path.
Sky Splitter was a grand na, but it wasn’t unwarranted.
The wave reached Squawks’ shoulders at the sa ti as the edge of his blade reached the top of Tair’s cage. The power that tore through the air hit the cage with the ferocity of nature. But this was just the first part of the technique.
The second part ca now when Squawks’ sword t resistance.
Sky Splitter wasn’t an attack that cut through its target or whatever it was he used it on like a hot knife through butter.
It was a domineering attack that used brute force to split and cleave.
The more strength in it, the greater the attack. At the sa ti, the greater the resistance of the target, the greater the strength Squawks needed to fulfill the attack.
He felt the iron cage’s durability push back the power of Sky Splitter into the sword and toward his hands.
Squawks gritted his teeth so hard that the others couldn’t tell if it was his teeth or the sound of his steel sword grinding against the iron cage.
His hands were already numb from Kava’s attack, but right now, they felt like he was holding back a bull by the horns.
His wrists threatened to break like a bridge of sticks with an overweight cat on it. His forearms felt like they were about to explode. His elbows shook and trembled.
He pushed down on the sword. The iron cage tried to push back.
Squaks haphazardly rembered sothing.
’Ah. This is the first ti I’m cutting sothing that’s not made of wood.’
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