Chapter 167 (2/2)

Although the blow was unexpected, he managed to regain his footing, so he landed softly on the ground, rather than crashing into it. He gazed at Divveltian with a complicated expression. “You… That is not a style that belongs to the Spearman School. Sir Adept, who- grkk!”

Once more, the middle aged man was interrupted as a spear pierced through his body. He looked on, aghast, at the apparition of death that stood mockingly before him, grinning. Shal floated downward, his arms crossed.

The middle aged man’s face tightened. “If you were an Adept this whole time, why would you allow yourself to be imprisoned-”

“I had my reasons.” Shal said coolly. Behind him, the Ghosthound and the other escapees passed through the gate and continued running. Divveltian gave Helen a meaningful glance, and she grabbed the male spear attendant and leaped after them

****

Shal regarded the man in front of him carefully. He was still the First Spear of Tomkat, a very experienced Adept. If he truly wanted to turn this into a fight…

But from the tightly controlled fury in the man’s eyes, he was still willing to back down from all of this. Inwardly, Shal felt some of his own fury begin to disperse.

“We will leave now. Do not follow us.” Shal said calmly, and the fury in that man’s eyes sparked.

“But who will pay the debt that is owed for the lives of my men?” The First Spear said, spitting out the words. “Two adepts are powerful, in tandem, but if you think I cannot-”

“In 6 months, if I yet live, I will return.” Shal said calmly. “At that time, you may hold my life in your hands a week for every guard that has died.”

The First Spear seemed to wilt, closing his eyes. True, this was a proud man, but this was also a man that had a deep, abiding loyalty for those beneath him. Tomkat was a proud town, a polished, strong town. Shal and his student had done much to unravel that strength. It would be difficult to recover from.

Still, the temptation of having another Adept beneath him was too much. The First Spear nodded. Which was for the best. For as Shal turned and began to lope away, the dizziness started, his vision swimming. He gritted his teeth and made it through the gate. He had heard the rumors, sure, but it was quite another thing entirely to feel the effects of Aether Starvation. It made Shal wonder whether he would be recovered in time to exact revenge, if he ever had the chance to do so.

Divveltian fell in beside him, giving him a knowing glance. Shal grinned as best he could. “You finally have seen the path? Congratulations on becoming an Adept. If I had known, I wouldn’t have barged onto your boat-”

“I wasn’t.” Divveltian said calmly. “Not until that student of yours produced that strange… energy. It helped me see my image more clearly than anything I have ever encountered.”

Shal fell into brooding silence for the rest of their run, even as they passed the others, and gathered into a larger group. They continued running for several hours, until they were at a small clearing halfway between Tomkat and Qtal. They likely would not be disturbed here.

So, shoulders heaving, Shal walked up to Randidly. “Why did you kill the guard?”

His disciple’s face tightened, and he just shrugged helplessly. Shal chopped down with his hand, faster than his disciple could react to, shattering the fool’s collarbone. To his credit, Randidly didn’t make a sound, and barely trembled from the blow, simply enduring it passively. Which somehow made the punishment unsatisfying.

The rest of the group stood around, looking at the ground. The new spear attendant and the female one seemed to be having a gaze standoff, as they attempted to determine their relative status underneath Randidly. As Shal struggled to control his anger, he tried to clarify his issue.

“As we exited the prison. There was a guard. You killed him.” Shal kept his voice low, and even.

In his disciple’s eyes, he saw the whole story, the flash of bitterness, then the anger, then the smooth resignation. When his disciple answered, his voice was low and casual in a way that made Shal sick. “...Yes. If he didn’t raise the alarm. It would be easier to escape. It was necessary.”

“It was necessary…?” Shal said slowly, savoring every syllable. In that moment, he didn’t see his disciple. He saw an image far in the past, years after Shal and his brother had giggled and whispered about the Spear with the Poisonous Fangs Style, his brother, his spear wet with blood, standing defiantly over that young girl’s body, Lucrecia standing next to him.

It was necessary.

“You don’t understand the value of a life,” Shal said coldly, advancing towards his disciple, fury pumping through his veins like blood.