51 Wrath (1/2)

With the force of a raging Dragon, her punch shattered the wall. It was beyond devastation; the power turning everything in front of her into a fine powder. Clouds of dust shrouded the hallway she'd broken into, alarmed shouts rising as Elya dashed in. The recent combat within Konstanz's streets and buildings had broadened the expertise of her cohort. Urban combat had never been considered a necessity for the Knights of Chernigov until they stormed Nostrum's tower at least. Still, they'd been caught unawares on many occasions by the gang members surprise attacks as they smashed through walls and floors, bringing a spatial dynamic to the combat Elya had never considered.

They learned quickly though, using the Knights greater individual strength to punch through the walls of a building from multiple directions and bring the fight to their enemies with vicious speed.

Wisps of aura drifted from Elya's body, the killing intent and Draconic essence inducing terror amongst the criminals she tore into. The Dragon aura responded strongly to emotion, rising in tune to her feelings.

Especially anger.

She seethed with anger.

She'd given herself to the Draconic essence as the combat dragged on, subsuming her rationality for greater power. Something seemed to have snapped within her soul after Nikolai was taken, her calm vanishing and primal emotions drowning her senses. There was a reason Dragons, for all their power were pushed away from Imperial lands. They were beings who followed their urges, unwilling in most cases to think in the long term. While Elya wasn't that far gone, her eyes had taken on a faint golden tinge, pupils thinning and warping in a dark reptilian style.

Limbs flew with every flash of her blade, screaming enemies falling to the floor clutching the stumps of arms or legs. Even in her anger, Elya remembered to keep them alive. What she needed was information, not corpses. With a flick of her wrist the wide-eyed boy facing Elya gaped at his hand arcing away from them, still grasping the knife he'd tried to stab her with. Flowing past the dull thug, Elya delivered a furious punch to catch a scantily clad screaming woman across the jaw, sending her flying into two burly thugs trying to join the combat.

She was cold.

Merciless.

With every attack, Elya's speed increased until she was almost sprinting down the corridor, barrelling through anyone unfortunate enough to stand in her way, the now scarred armour she wore acting like a weapon. Broken bodies littered the floor behind her as she burst through the door at the end of the hallway which according to their intelligence would lead to the boss of this gang. One of the few the Black Hand hadn't been able to infiltrate till date.

Bolts streaked towards her as the door splintered, rubble flying in every direction under her charge. The sense of danger within her spiked and rapidly revolving Draconic aura in her throat she roared.

The sound was deafening, aura manifesting as a hazy red wave which flashed across the room, causing the bolts to crumble and flinging the crossbowmen who were scrambling to reload into the walls. A muffled grunt to her right had her blade slashing out instantly, sparking against a hastily raised shield.

Elya spun on her heel, following up with a massive overhand blow which sent the shield-bearer retreating, yet somehow he managed to recover enough to send a clumsy swing of his mace at her. Deftly parrying, she closed in on the man, wrenching his shield aside. His eyes trembled in fear and the stale stench of cheap ale lingered on his breath. It was a surprise he still remained standing in the face of her power. The hilt of Elya's sword crushed the man's temple, his eyes rolling back at the blow.

A shiver rose on her neck and Elya drew on her powers in a surge, the surroundings slowing down as she sped up. Dropping into a crouch and spinning, she caught sight of her target, the infamous Little Viper, Shumaz Kardian, firing a bolt from a concealed launcher in her sleeve from behind an upturned desk. Even with Elya's increased acceleration, the bolt was streaking towards her in her vision but she still reached out to pluck it from the air.

To the cowering gang leader behind the desk, Elya's motions would have been a blur, and it showed on her face, horror spreading across it as Elya advanced on her.

Elya raised the bolt, catching a whiff of some unknown substance coating its head.

”So. You tried to poison me.” Elya rasped, her voice hoarse from the tears she'd shed while rocking in Nikolai's chair. With a clench, the bolt's shaft snapped, the pieces clattering to the floor.

Looming over the woman, Elya kicked the desk aside, ignoring its weight as her aura infused muscles sent it spinning away. Her hand closed on Kardian's throat and raised the gang leader into the air, ignoring the woman's feeble attempts to claw her mailed fist away.

Elya might have felt sympathy for any other criminal, but not the Little Viper. The woman was a vicious leech, preying on the weak and revelling in violence and torture. Their assault had come through the women's 'pleasure chambers', cutting through the torturers and freeing prisoners as they pressed deeper into the compound. Anyone who could do that, deserved all the violence Elya brought to bear.

She raised her sword until Kardian could see it clearly, steaming blood still dripping from the magical blade. She'd opted to bring along Razors Edge instead of her regular weapon, feeling greater comfort with the sword Nikolai had gifted her. Elya felt the blade was aware its creator had been captured and thirsted for vengeance.

At least, that's what she wanted to believe.

It was possible.

Nikolai was magical after all.

”Where is he?” The words dropped from her lips like leaden weights, promising violence if she wasn't answered. The sight of the blade only served to fuel Elya's rage.