Narrowly dodging the emerald glowing blade, the boy looked indifferently into Serph's eyes. " A bold one. " She said weighting his current action.
" Where did you find this one. " Serph asked a soldier. " At Myron's tent. " The soldier replied his gaze avoiding hers. " You may all leave, I would handle them, " she instructed.
The soldiers bowed and left hurriedly, unable to stand before the Soulslayer. With fourteen boy still hammering against the rocks, the noise emitted still and the boy groaned in irritation.
" In a line. " Serph barked following the barbarian language used in this city. The boys understood, and began straightening themselves in a line. Observing, Serph found the boy who had dodged her attack earlier, doing nothing.
' This kid doesn't look like them,' she thought to herself, ' He is different, pale and sickly yes, but his aura is dangerous. His potential is unrefined, I most have him. '
Surely she was right, the boy stuck out as a sore thumb. No one else in the entire camp or world had orange hair and amber eyes. His looks entirely was reserved for the divine.
From the decorated belt on her armour, she produced a thorned whip. Swiftly she lashed at him. Its movement crackled through the air as it landed on his back.
He winced, gazing at her with hatred hidden behind the blank stare. Again she barked in a barbaric language he couldn't comprehend, " Get in line!!! "
Luckily she pointed for the line, if not he wouldn't have known what to do. He cut through the line and stood still, his eyes observing other things.
Serph clicked her tongue in annoyance, ' Damned brat ', she went forward commanding the boys to match into the mining field and join the surving boys.
They did as they were told and began picking up pickaxes. Those who weren't fast enough to pick, fell into dice pieces without Serph even moving.
She leapt to the top of a dilapidated building and oversaw the mining progress. Moreover she wasn't focused on anything other than the orange haired boy.
Having to whip him a few times before he could leave his ears and work. She was strongly fighting the urge to kill him on the spot, as others whom she caught slaking off.
Soon enough he began surprising her with an enhanced strength. he broke out more minerals with relative ease, as soon as he understood he just had to break the rocks.
Nevertheless, Serph noticed a ritual the boy performed as he worked. Occasionally he would drop his pickaxe and clasped his ears so hard. Initially Serph couldn't comprehend what he was doing but later understood. The boy was rupturing his eardrums.
' Why doesn't he just stop at one, ' She asked herself, ' did he continue hitting his ears…, should have known, barbarians lack the most mundane of understanding.'
The night slowly crept away, stars taking shifts to showcase their beauty. Under this scenic phenomenon, stillness prevailed. Most of the humans in the area were to tired to function anymore.
Apart from the noises of crickets and the howls of wolves, which dwelt at the distant mountains, only reverberating echos could be heard.
Still as energetic as ever, Serph oversaw the activities of her captives. At this point only six boys remained. The earth was littered with the blood of myriad youths.
The survivors felt their limbs tremble, all but one whom so far has showcased a supernatural amount of stamina. His eyes held no sort of weakness, his indomitable will unable to be shaken.
Blood constantly fell from his ears. His temples chapped from periodic hitting.
Almost nude as his clothing had been ripped to shreds by the thorned whip of his captor.
His showcased skin smoother than alabaster, despise having received more daunting injuries than any other slave with him.
His captor was dazed by his capabilities and bothered him no more, however studied him. " Round up your tools, it's time for gathering." She ordered.
Hearing they were in their last strikes, one of the young slaves struck a rock with all his strength and a mini shockwave swept through the field. The orange haired boy fell to his knees, screaming and pounding against his regenerating ears.
A frown stretched over Serph's face, she vanished from her spot. Reappearing above the boy, the tip of her blade few millimeters from slicing through his neck.
" Halt!!! " An aged voice reverberated through the mineral deposit. Serph flipped, landing gracefully and facing the visitor. The boy choked. In blood. Without breath.
A laceration ran over his neck, feeding the earth with an endless supply of his blood. His trachea severed from its path, his larynx to damaged to let out a wail.
Decapitation wasn't a far fetched state, yet the current was unsurvivable by any mortal.
" What brings you to my post, Myron, " she said with a wicked grin, " Aren't you supposed to be sitting in that dusty pavilion of yours, pretending to be creating an immortal elixir and wasting the Empires resources. "
Failing to respond then, Myron walked forward. Despite the curse of time boring down on him, he needlessly reached the dying boy and placed a palm over the laceration.
The aged man's palm shown of an immense light. Instantaneously the injury was healed. " Miss Alpensis, I would inform you that this is not my slave for experimentation, not you training dart boards. " He said.
" The boy has shown, promising strength and great capabilities. He is deserving of service to the Great Dominion of Varethia. " Serph argued.
" The general has entrusted him to me for a fine. Meaning he is my slave, not Varethia's. " He retorted attempting to lead the boy away, yet the female warrior shoved the youth out of Myron's grasp.
The aged healer glared at her, his intent uncertain, what could a frail old man like him do. " You dare thwart the general's instructions? " He asked in an agitated tone.
" I answer to no one but the emperor himself, and even if you were to get him here. I would rather have this youth killed, that leave him in your custody." Serph said firmly.
Myron, opening mouth to retort but an authoritative voice, echoing louder than Serph's. " Hand the boy over, command Serph, let's not create more noise than this. "
A young man came to view, as tall as the valiant beasts to pride and dominion. His beauty touched with a scent of divinity. His olive skin seemingly untouched by markings of violence.
Behind him two contuberniums of soldiers, all armed to the bone stood in wait. No following. Calmly still.
Dressed in fabrics of royal purple, his presence made time gasp for breath. " The Transcendent legioneer, Lord Nolcter. " Serph said subconsciously gripping her blade a bit too tight.
" Hello sister, I have ventured from the vastness of the North, just to come and see you. " He said in a cheerful glee, " You reek of lies Nolcter, a trait mother forbade. " The female warrior replied.
The Transcendent looked over at Myron and said, " Take the boy and leave, lady Serph here needs a little reforming. " On his face a simple so bright it made the old man shiver.
A shiver which failed to fade. Myron had traversed the encampment to a small shade. Approaching the four post structure, a steady bang emitted from the shade, followed by an intense heat.
The old man turned to the boy, " Now you become the prisoner of war. "