II-41 Terror

There are few weapons more potent than fear, but fear is also to be wielded with care, precision, and careful consideration.

Many terrorists use fear as a cudgel. They break things. They blow things up. They destroy things that they will need later.

Consider the Southern Column’s incompetent invasion of Lone Star while they were briefly weakened from the 143rd orcish wave two centuries prior. They managed to breach the outer layer of border forts held by the Lone Star Kingdom. Then rather than focusing on consolidating their territory, and expanding bit by bit, one of their generals went on a wild rampage, stacking and burning everything and pushing for the capital.

This ended up rallying the Lone Star Kingdom as they felt like they were fighting on death ground, and ridiculously, the damned orcs also took advantage of the chaos to sell themselves as experienced mercenaries.

Rather than slowly crushing their enemy, the Southern Column managed to achieve a feat that has not been repeated till this very day—they managed to ally Lone Star briefly with the orcs, and in the aftermath, Lone Star ensured the orcs were properly paid—as the warborn race was allowed to rampage unchecked through Southern Column territory.

Comparatively, orcs, they know fear. They use fear very well. An orc’s eventual goal is to kill you. An orc’s eventual goal is to harm you, to torture you slowly, to break you, but it will use any and all means to reach that point, including befriending you, including discovering what you are afraid to lose.

There are multiple instances of orcs kidnapping the children and the family of their Vaketh-Bakals. They will mail pieces back to the Beloved enemy. They will leave dismembered parts and then heal the kidnapped victim just to rattle their target of affection.

Orcs know that the core of fear is loss, is loss of control, is loss of someone in your life, and they constantly remind you of that loss without fully concluding it.

Fear is built on hope. Hope that you can still survive the situation, hope that it might end, hope that it might be better. And contrasted with that hope is the possibility of things getting worse.

And so if your great desire is to inflict fear, to inflict disorder, to let chaos reign, then strike at your enemy’s deepest hopes. Make them bleed, but do not break them, not at all at once. Force them, drain them, and let them collapse on their own.

-The Ways of the Unseen: Aviary Training Manual

II-41

Terror

Something was wrong. Something was out there. Something…. 

But Master Psychomancer Moravega couldn't find the enemy. They were out there; a strand of mana touched him twice. He knew it touched him. He knew it struck his mind, but it was so subtle, so fine that he couldn't react to it in time. And both strikes diverted his focus from pinpointing the rampaging Aviary agent as well.

Someone was helping the Corpse Shedder. Someone kept attacking him over and over as he tried to support the gate’s defense. And that same someone had shattered the minds of his disciples. 

The act was done with surgical efficiency. It was nothing like the Jealousy. That Greater Demon was a Psychomantic brute; this was done by a thinking mind, a scheming mind. One that eliminated observers and compromised the most vulnerable minds to create openings…

And so Moravega stood within his chamber, clenching two jutting focus crystals that protruded from the ground. Focus crystals that connected him to the rest of the room, more focus crystals, additional enchantments to amplify his potent Psychomancy. But even with all of this, even with his building empowered by a mana chain connected to the core of the gate itself, he still wasn't sure where the enemy Psychomancer was. 

And he needed to be sure. He needed to be sure soon. Otherwise, Confriga…

Moravega shuddered. Confriga tore one of Moravega's disciples apart in front of him. The poor girl. Her only mistake was voicing how her master needed more time, how she wasn't sure where the Corpse Shedder was. And that was all it took. All it took for the gate lord to shift his attention away from Moravega. She might have just saved her master, but it cost her everything.

Her memory  fueled the waves of cascading Psychomancy blasted out from Moravega. His Master-Tier Skill Evolution, Panoptical Stalker, was the main reason why Confriga wanted him as Head Psychomancer. 

Back on their homeworld, he was a hunter of other people like himself: those who developed the skill of Psychomancy. And he proved good at intercepting information and eliminating enemy mind mages. A little too good.

Such was how he ended up in the Gate Lord’s service, in fact.

Moravega discovered that a High Marshal had stolen a portion of his second in command’s rightful loot after a hard-fought campaign in a far-flung dimension. Among the items was a Master-Tier armor of remarkable value. Moravega tried reporting this, being the dutiful Vulteg that he was. 

And Moravega learned the naivety and misunderstanding he had about his own culture.

The High Marshals knew each other personally. After centuries of struggle, despite all the bad blood between them, the Vulteg high marshals held their positions due to a simple reason: solidarity. 

Solidarity against even their own god, Lord Scorn. 

Thus was how the High Marshals endured, becoming something of a pseudo-shadow council that actually ran the day-to-day of Vulketh. Their world and civilization were supposed to be Lord Scorn's to wield, but their god was distant, uncaring, indifferent. The only thing he truly wanted from his Vultegs was for them to serve him for random wars and tests from time to time. That, and for them to keep his old enemies from bothering him.

And thus, Moravega was rewarded for his service with a field promotion, a promotion into the most unwanted post for any proper soldier. He was drafted into Lesser Marshal Confriga's command, a command known to be fatal, dangerous, and ultimately miserable, due to the Lesser Marshal's wretched personality and casual willingness to butcher his own.

And so, Moravega spent every bit of his power, every bit of his focus, reaching and searching. His Psychomancy blasted out in waves, his mana layered and pulsing. It made him intermittently strong and weak when it came to the power, but also hard to predict—and even harder to see coming. The effects of the Panopticonic Pulse never lasted long, its constant edge of surprise was what made him so dangerous against another Psychomancer.

But still, Moravega progressed with caution. He was not confused about his position in the world. He tried, briefly, to match the Jealousy a year ago. Moravega was a fool to do so. The creature noticed his pulse, allowed him to reach into its mind, and it showed him its memories. A memory of just how many Psychomancers it consumed—greater Psychomancers than he. 

Moravega nearly broke from the memory alone.

If he was facing another Heroic-Tier Psychomancer— 

Just then, a rush of secondhand pain crashed into the Master Psychomancer’s mind. Moravega cried out as he felt two of his disciples die about ten floors below him. He responded immediately, turning his complete power downward. He didn’t hesitate as he pushed into the mind of the dimensional meant to guard the two disciples that just—

Moravega gasped as he found himself staring out from the badly butchered body of a flame dimensional. The dimensional had been split clean in half, and from its eyes, he saw a room drenched in blood and death. His disciples lay in pieces. Other dimensionals were splattered against the walls, and one looked like it had been cut into so many pieces he couldn’t tell what it had been.

Then, Moravega saw it. The shape leaving the room. The faint outline of a large humanoid figure. It turned the corner, but he cast his Psychomancy field at the hidden enemy. If this butcher thought—

Something speared into Moravega’s mind. It cut deep. He cried out and pushed back with his Psychomancy. The attacker retreated from the angle they just struck, but stabbed in a dozen other places. His memories fractured. A splitting pain passed through Moravega as his skull felt like it was shattering from within. He unleashed a broad, burst of Psychomancy that sent the foe scurrying, but they were gone again. Worse, as he cast out his waves mind magic, he detected nothing.

Nothing again. They were taunting him…

That attack… the coordination… There must be a cell of Psychomancers working together. It wasn’t strong enough to be Heroic. Maybe Low Master—but the sequences of attacks… I am facing an entire cadre of enemy magi. I must be.

Moravega clenched his teeth as he considered how to respond. "To all disciples," his mind echoed telepathically through his tower. He would have his disciples provide him with defensive measures, and focus entirely on finding the invisible—

He couldn’t feel any of his disciples. Worse, he felt he was only one of two thinking beings left in his entire building. Moravega’s blood ran cold. How? There were over thirty guards here—one was Master-Tier! And his disciples numbered ten as well. How could— He pushed these thoughts away as he directed a magical attack at the target. It would be enough to hollow an undefended mind—to stun someone with Master-Tier Magical Resistance.

Yet, the second that he did, the hostile group of Psychomancers slashed at his mind again.

Moravega growled—but this time, his enemy didn’t move away in time. This time, he caught onto them—

Only for him to realize the true nature of his adversary. There were hundreds of mana strands crashing against his mana, injecting bursts of damaging telepathy into his consciousness. It was like being stung from every direction at once. Following the strands, he found his enemy well over five kilometers away. To engage him at this range, they had to be a Hero. Moravega’s stomach dropped.

Then, they materialized before him, creating a psionic projection of themselves. In a dense haze of Psychomancy, an Umbral stood before him. Her hair was short and pale and her features were sharp and hard—as if shaped from hardship, discipline, and unrelenting focus. Her eyes gleamed a particular dark shade of blue, and her armor— Moravega did a double take. He saw that armor worn by one of Oldsmith’s “guards.” Was she some kind of Inquisitor as well? An Umbral Inquisitor?

“You are quite skilled,” she said. Her voice was low and husky, but her gaze was hard and cold. “A remarkable Skill Evolution. A shame. I wish I could take you alive and dedicate you to the Elaboration.”

“Who… are you?” Moravega growled. He prepared himself for a duel against a Heroic-Tier Psychomancer—

Then suddenly, Moravega gasped. A Stellarite blade punched clean through his chest, and Moravega felt himself casually lifted into the air. With a final exertion of will, he craned his neck and he stared. He stared at what seemed to be a translucent outline. And he saw the Dimensionals guarding his doorway in pieces on the ground. His door had been cut clean through, and this enemy… The butcher that killed his disciples. “M-monster,” Moravega whimpered.

“Corpse,” the unseen adversary replied. And then they dragged the blade up through Moravega’s chest and cleaved his head in two as well. A flash of pain, then heat, coldness, and slowly, the fingers of death clamped the Vulteg, pulling him away bit by bit, until there was nothing left.

***

Deepest Edge > 59

Silhouette > 58

Practical Metabiology > 29

Woundeater > 69

Dread Aura > 73

Shiv looked down at the dead Psychomancer with a moment’s consideration. “You know something, Uva? I really enjoy having a good Stealth Skill.”

“Quite useful, isn’t it?” she replied.

He hummed with amusement. “People are a lot more vulnerable when they can’t really track where you are. Makes killing easier. Well. I think we’re done here. Got all the dimensionals, guards, and Psychomancers. No alarms raised. Good work.”

“To you as well. Now. Let’s go do it again. I think I’ve found another Psychomancer for us to eliminate.”

"Just cutting down all the competition, huh?" Shiv asked.

"Absolutely," Uva replied. "I want to have free rein over this gate. And we will start by removing the only guardians capable of intercepting and contending with me."

And between the two of them, a slightly vicious thrill was born. It was rather fun to be hunting prey with someone you cared for. And it was slightly intoxicating to discover that they enjoyed the act as much as you did. Together, they cleared out Moravega’s personal tower with clinical efficiency. 

Whatever Uva couldn't break immediately with her mind magic, Shiv killed with his Biomancy or kukri. Together, they'd avoid raising any alarms. Someone would stumble upon all the dead, and raise the alarm. And when they moved in, they would find one of Shiv’s corpses waiting for them as a taunt.”

"So where to next," Shiv said, as he slipped out of the front door. The coldness slammed down upon the world, and the denseness of the frost layered the air with near impenetrable condensation. His outline was barely perceptible, and he slipped below two hovering air dimensionals who didn't even notice that he was there.

Uva tugged on his mind with a mana strand, and he followed along, walking the beneath the mana core’s cold rays without any discomfort. The low temperature thickened the air with condensation, and Shiv followed Uva’s mana strands as he observed the movement patterns of his enemies. They were on edge. He could tell that from their body language, from the whispering mental interference Uva picked up for him, offering him snippets of detail and warning him of what was to come.

They were scared. Scared of the Corpse Shedder killing them next. Scared that Confriga would butcher them in a fit of rage. Scared. His passive Dread Aura made everything worse for them. Some dimensionals and guards looked ready to explode from stress, and Shiv looked forward to pushing them more.

“Everyone fears differently,” Uva said, studying the gate’s population as much as Shiv did. “That is a darkly beautiful thing to discover when you gaze into someone’s mind. The unique ways they think. It keeps you aware that you’re killing a person sometimes.”

“Does it bother you?” Shiv asked. “The killing. The breaking of their minds.”

The Umbral Psychomancer paused as she considered that. “Not truly. As I told you before, a Psychomancer learns to control their own mind first. But there is also something else for me. The understanding of my adversary allows me to make a decision whether to spare or break. The ones we kill now would not offer mercy in return to us, nor would they care. And ultimately, mercy is the purview of the powerful. And I am, but a recent Hero in a land surrounded by enemies. I will do the most effective, practical thing every time, because I am responsible for more than myself.”

She paused. “If my misplaced softness killed me, I will not be punished. Death is not a punishment for the dead, I suspect, but a trauma imposed upon the living. Like you. Like my team, my city, or all the people I could have helped or saved. The duty comes first.”

Shiv listened to Uva’s words as he drew closer to the target destination. “This might just be the first mortality conversation we ever had.”

A brief note of surprise came from Uva. “Yes, it appears so. Well. What do you think? Do you find yourself affected by the killing?”

“No. And I don’t really think about it that much. The ones who try to kill me have it coming. The ones who hurt people have it coming. I could spare some of them. But a lot of them could have lived better lives. There’s choice in all of this. We’re Pathbearers. I think…. I think I agree with Adam in a sense. If we’re going to be more than just mortal, we should behave better. Be more controlled. Seek strength and do what’s good for the most people we can.”

“A great many people cannot overcome the trials life puts against them,” Uva offered as a counterpoint. “It might be natural for you to stand tall and struggle. But for some others, it is like the instinct or the urge is altogether absent.”

“Maybe,” Shiv said. “Maybe I should think more about this thing. But I can only be myself for now. I can only decide what I do. And I know one thing: There’s no life in which I become a slaver. There’s no life where I just turn out. Everyone can choose to do the right thing, even if the system demands strife. We’re not animals. We know what we’re doing, and we have magic. Skills, too.”

Shiv looked down below and spotted an unmoving slave laying on a bridge, frozen stiff. There were no life signs from the body. The Umbral’s heart had stopped hours ago. “I’m not very versed in philosophy. That might be more Can Hu’s thing. But I remember what it’s like to be hurt. I remember the feeling of a boot breaking my bones. I remember understanding something after that. That I needed to fight. That I needed to be my own warrior, and hurt the bastards that came for me and other people like me, no matter what.”

“As retribution?” Uva asked.

“As necessity,” Shiv said. “Like you said: Mercy is for the strong. I might be stronger than most here, but I don’t think I’m strong enough to take this gate at a disadvantage. And if we fail, there will be no lessons learned. No one will care about our nobility. Our deaths would probably just result in a few skill levels for someone else.”

“Indeed. But from that perspective, can’t you tell why someone might become like one of them?” Uva was speaking of the guards, the slavers, the mercenaries.

“Sure,” Shiv said. “But we’re not that. They just happen to have skills. They’re not walking a Path. We’re going somewhere, pain and struggle be damned. Only reason we might stop is if we’re killed.”

“Ah. A bit of dehumanization.” Uva hummed. “I suppose that helps.”

“You don’t approve?” Shiv asked.

“I would not say that. I just focus on a different reason. The outcome is ultimately the same. The act of killing and harming does not cling to us. Not like it does an actual murderer who does it for true pleasure. Or Adam, whose mind boils with regret. He thinks about the people he shot down a lot.”

Shiv paused. He was almost at his new target. “I didn’t know that. Yeah. Adam is a… pretty decent guy, ultimately. His killing is mostly because he has to, but he doesn’t like harming people at all. Probably why he didn’t want to join in our little hunt.”

“He didn’t join in because it’s not a hunt to him at all,” she replied. “We are orchestrating a slaughter. We should be honest with ourselves about that.”

The Deathless grunted. “Yeah. Speaking of—I see two guards out front. Vultegs. How many we got on the inside?”

“Not many. Fourteen a few minutes ago. Eight now. Quite a few Master-Tier’s though. I think it would be best to avoid most of them and just eliminate the target using your wall-cutting trick. I think I can distract them long enough for that to work.”

And Shiv noted another difference in the way they proceeded. He was completely fine with just walking his way in and tearing people apart slowly. Dehumanization was exactly the right term to use for him. The moment he started really fighting someone, it was to the bone, and they stopped being people to him. Pulling them apart became a thing of reward and self-gratification. Meanwhile, Uva was objective focused. As always.

“Yeah,” Shiv thought more to himself than Uva. “I probably could use a bit more mission focus sometimes.”

“It helps when you’re not operating on your own,” Uva said. “A team always centered me. So. I can help center you.”

Shiv cut into the side of the build with a smile. He watched Uva’s mana strands strike at his enemies with a smile. And he launched a bone drill through the unprepared Psychomancer’s head with a smile.

Scream and cries for reinforcements sounded—but Shiv triggered his Chrono-Anchored Strike and blinked across the district. He drove his blade into Moravega’s chest. Meanwhile, he listened to the chaos erupting in the distance, and he found himself slightly contemplative.

Silhouette > 59

“I think I’m going to take things a bit slower when I can,” Shiv said.

“Hm? What do you mean?” Uva asked.

“Stealth. I like it. I like focusing on it a lot. I like walking unseen and watching people. And I like the fact it gives the chance to maybe spare more people if I want to. If I behaved the way I usually did before, I suspect that would have been a bloodbath. Choice is power. And power gives you options.” Shiv grunted a laugh. “Those guards owe you their lives, Uva. You got me in a rare introspective mood.”

She gave a soft chuckle. “You often get into thinking moods, Shiv. Mainly for cooking. You’re not truly a mindless brute. ”

Shiv considered that. Artistry had a way of demanding someone to understand themselves better. Maybe he wasn’t so simple. Maybe he was behind when it came to developing certain thoughts. He spent most of his life struggling to survive and desperately facing monsters for a Path, after all. There wasn’t much use for philosophy and introspection in those cases.

“Let’s do this even more quietly, then,” Shiv said. “Your way. Subtle. It’ll be good practice for me and neater for us. And it’ll give me some time to think about deeper personal stuff.” His words made Uva laugh. “What?”

“What do you think Adam would have said to your statement just now?”

Shiv paused to consider that. Then, he mentally did the Young Lord’s voice. “‘Of course you would treat someone else’s death as philosophical lubricant, you bastard cockroach!’”

The Umbral chortled in his mind. “Ah. Not exactly like him, but the spirit… the spirit is there. I’m going to send him your impression. I think hell appreciate it. Even if he will pretend to be outraged.”

A moment later, both Shiv and Uva held back their mirth as the Young Lord began cursing at them. “I was trying to focus on writing a letter to the Inquisitor, can you two mock me some other time? Don’t you have some serial killings to perform?”

“Did a few already,” Shiv said. “Killing a bunch of people in horrible ways got me thinking of you.”

“Shiv. I do not appreciate that statement, and I wish to remind you that I have a particular vambrace right now that might advise more caution on your part.”

“Aw, Adam,” Shiv growled mockingly. “We were just thinking about good and decent you are. And a bit soft and fragile, but mostly good and decent.”

“He’s mostly being honest,” Uva said, telling Adam Shiv’s true feelings.

The Young Lord just sighed. “Well, I appreciate the clarity. I am well aware of my position as the team’s moral core.”

“Right, well, on that note: Who’s next on the murder list, Uva?” Shiv asked.

“What a wonderful way to change the topic,” Adam sighed.

“I would go for the other two Master-Tier Psychomancers if I could,” Uva began. “But they’re always covering for each other, and they’re also with the Gate Lord. Best not to risk having him discover my presence until things are far too late.”

“I think we might be able to take them now,” Shiv said. “Me against the Gate Lord. You against the mind mages. With a good ambush—”

“Shiv. What happened to take it slow and with more control?”

“Ah. Got carried away. I was kind of thinking about if Confriga’s sword could kill me and spike my Toughness again. It’s going to be hard to level that without a really hard hitting opponent. Dying’s getting harder, too.”

“I’m dropping out of this conversation,” Adam grumbled. “Uva, release me. Shiv, don’t just bloody start a fight with the Gate Lord and send this whole thing sideways.”

Shiv grunted. Uva grunted—mimicking him. Adam disconnected.

“What was that?” Shiv asked.

“You,” she said. “I’m considering what it would be like if I just aggressively attacked everything until all my problems were dead or I was.”

“I recommend not staying dead. Works wonders for me.”

“Ah. I’ll have to keep that in mind. For now, let’s talk about our next batch of prey: Bureaucrats.”

Shiv paused. "What?"

"Administrators,too," Uva said casually.

"Why are we murdering pencil pushers and non-martials?" 

"For one, they're easy prey, and secondly, well, secondly, they're integral to the running of this gate. Does Gate Lord Confriga strike you as someone who has the temperament to run a government?"

Shiv paused. "Not quite." And he was beginning to see what she meant. "So, you're asking me to actually kill the people keeping this place functional?"

“Yes. And for the fact that the worst people in Compact are the ones that authorize the slave trading and conduct the deals. They’re a level removed, but their cruel hand is still heavy on the page. They are a part of this too, even if we cannot see them. So. That makes them enemy combatants as well.”

And Shiv noted another difference in their murder morality. He wasn’t very comfortable killing the outright weak. Something about that seemed a bit unfair to him. They had to be like Oldsmith to really make him want to kill them. Uva, meanwhile, decided on these targets purely based on pragmatic reasons.

“Okay,” Shiv said. “I’ll do them in quietly. But there’s one more group I want to add.” He then shared a memory with Uva. And she quickly realized what he wanted. Back when he pretended to be a slave, hiding using his Perfect Semblance to get smuggled into the Jealousy's den, there were slavers that transported him. And then there was a Vulteg overseer.

"Ah, yes, she should be concluded among the bureaucrats," Uva agreed. There was a slight sneer of disgust in her voice. “These deaths, I think we can both look forward to. Give me a while. Let me see if I can find her after filtering through a few memories."

While Uva searched, Shiv proceeded to his first batch of targets. He moved carefully and silently through offices and homes. Gravitic Wrestler wasn’t just a good kills for strength, but it also made him borderline weightless when he wanted to. As such, he was rarely heard as well. He got to the bureaucrats and administrators as they slept in their beds, worked at their desks, and some were merely enjoying a spot of subpar dinner. Most times, his Silhouette was the last thing they saw. He made sure their deaths were quick as well. No sense gutting a non-combatant. No skills to be gained there, nor experience.

The harder kills to execute were when his targets had families, but Uva usually put them all to sleep before Shiv got the ones that needed to die. He found himself giving a sleeping spouse or a child an odd look as he processed what he was doing.

Uva, meanwhile, was absolutely clinical and indifferent, and the clarity between their modes of murder became truly obvious. Shiv was like a roaring flame. He spread about and if you touched him, he would burn you badly and not stop until you put him out. Uva was a blizzard. There was rarely enjoyment or that much emotion at all when it came to killing or breaking people. She simply thought someone needed to die and proceeded to plotting the act. And Uva often got so focused on the details that family and other things like that became just variables to her.

She did pause once when they discovered a bureaucrat snoring beside his infant daughter.

That one they both decided to spare. Uva for mostly personal reasons, and Shiv because he would actually feel bad and end up bringing the baby back to the anchor.

“I can only imagine what Adam might say then,” Uva muttered.

Silhouette > 61

After they got done slaughtering through the city’s most important logistical personnel, Uva managed to find the slave overseer. And by that point, Adam also contacted them. "Shiv, Can Hu has something. He seems to have located the main structures storing most of the slaves. Some of the slaves are personally owned, but this gate has some kind of large public slave program. It's like transportation, but free use slavery for most people staying here."

"Free use slavery," Shiv muttered.

"Yes, it's one of the major appeals. If you're important enough to live inside this gate, or you're compact, you get a free slave assigned to you. They'll do all your cooking, cleaning, even some midwife work." Adam shuddered. "Slavery. I can't believe it's a Path. I can only imagine what that’s like. Not being able to have combat skills… Gah.”

"Almost anything that shapes someone's identity can be a Path," Uva said darkly. "Most Umbrals a few generations ago followed the Path of the Slave or Sacrifice. The vampires were very clear about what we were meant to be used for."

Both Shiv and Adam briefly fell silent.

"I think I'm going to visit the vampires when I have time. After all this is done," Shiv commented. “That’ll be a guilt-free slaughter.”

"Yes," Adam said. "I think I will perhaps take another trip down the Abyss once everything at home is settled.."

"I will not need leisure time to do this," Uva replied. "It will be my professional duty to kill Bloodspawn. But I'm glad the great heroes of Weave are so determined to join me in my task."

Adam hummed. "Think nothing of it, sister. After all, what are friends for?"

The public use slave quarters were located in the four corners of the gate. Each of the buildings housed a good twenty thousand slaves. But these were only the organic slaves. They were packed tight together in rooms that could be barely called dormitories. They were fed gruel. They were monitored by dimensionals and hired slavers. And they were assigned duties every day by a personal overseer. 

The one Shiv had encountered wasn't even that high up the command, he realized. 

Still, she needed to die. And so did every other slave hand there was. But that's why the plan changed. As he observed them, Uva's thoughts began to brew. "I don't think we should kill them yet. Not so hastily. This needs to be more effective.”

Shiv was silent for a moment, watching as a man continued whipping a weary slave. She had tried to get up earlier, but exhaustion, malnutrition, and an accumulation of what seemed to be bodily injuries brought her down. And now, a slaver who was trying to whip her back to a point of standing, a slaver, Shiv realized, “I broke that asshole's wrist about a week back, the first time I came around to this gate. He was escorting me and a group of others to see the jealousy. Sarah was in that group.”

Uva hummed. Then she reached into the man's mind with a mana string, and Shiv felt her slowly and brutally strip away most of his personality. The man clutched his head and dropped to the ground. He started screaming, he slapped his ears and clawed at his eyes, and Shiv felt her destroy everything that made him him. 

Shiv broke the slaver’s wrist; Uva broke all there was to break inside the man. Soon he stopped kicking, and the slave turned to see the man drooling on the ground, an empty husk.

Shiv watched the scene from afar, and slowly a large smile spread across his face. "Uva, when I see you in person later, I think I’m going to have to kiss you for that.”

She let out a breathy laugh. "Ah. What reaction might I get from you if I hollow out even more slavers?”

Between them, a flood of disgust came. Adam let out a sigh. "You both have deep, deep issues, and are sick, sick people. But yes, I agree with the sister. If you're just going to murder some overseers and slave hands indiscriminately, they will likely take it out on the slaves. They will assume that the Corpse Shedder is here to protect them—or among the slaves. And we will find several slaves nailed to the walls or some other horrendous thing."

Adam was speaking from experience from what he read in an Academy textbook. "Considering how they're treating these slaves and, frankly, how casually they're wasting their lives, I would not be surprised if Gate Lord Confriga made them march out into the cold until one of us decided to make a heroic rescue. Or until we were forced to watch them all die."

Shiv frowned. "I lost my cover against the jealousy for doing something like that.”

"System wants strife," Adam said. "We can use our power to change situations, but aside from that it always gives us a reason to break and kill. However, you should come back. Can Hu has additional details on where the automaton slaves are stored as well."

The Deathless let out a breath as he watched the slave look down at the slaver’s body. One of the bastards was dead. Then, a few seconds later, the slave knelt as another slaver took him away. Additional guards came by to regard the slavers body, but after a while, they just dragged the corpse off like it was a piece of garbage.

“Yeah,” Shiv grumbled to himself. “Your way might just be right, Uva. Plenty of bastards in here, but they’re also dime a dozen. We could be slaughtering hordes of these guys and get nowhere. We need a strategy. Not only for utterly wiping out all the slavers, but also what to do with the slaves. Not sure what I was going to do on my own the first time.”

“Probably leave a large mess, kill many people, die quite a few times, and see a good number of slaves dead as collateral damage as well,” Uva summarized as accurately as she could. “But you would have tried to save that. That I do know. And some of them would have likely lived. Some of them did live and escape, considering those you saved from the Jealousy. You have the capability to break the enemy now. Just let me give you the precision and support you need to make the process a clean one.”

Something about that was strangely heartening for Shiv. “You know something, Uva? I’m pretty glad we came out tonight to kill some people.”

“I am too. We should do this again.”

Adam’s annoyance pulsed through once more. “Uva, for bloody—why did you reach into my mind again? Just to let me hear your burgeoning desires to murder more people? Stop it. Just stop. Please.”

Uva laughed. Shiv laughed. Adam groaned. And a few more administrators went missing before Shiv made it back to base.

Silhouette > 62