C243 - Price
'What's the difference between a first-grade weapon and a first-level warrior?' Khan wondered as mana started to seep out of his skin and move toward his hands.
Khan quickly halted his actions and retracted his hands before inspecting the corners of his cell. He didn't know if the area had cameras, but he refused to take risks, especially now that he might have solved his greatest problem.
The question continued to resound in his mind even after he stopped testing his theory. Khan had long since committed to memory the requirements for the Divine Reaper. He had performed those techniques with mere dull null-grade weapons, so his hands could work. He felt sure that his body met the minimum requirements for the martial art.
Khan felt even more confident after thinking about the Niqols. They could transform caresses into punches as long as they manipulated the mana accordingly, so the same had to be true when it came to blades. Applying sharpness also was Khan's best field since he had already become used to that meaning by training in the Divine Reaper.
Everything seemed perfect. Khan almost couldn't believe how he had failed to consider that possibility until now. He only had to transform the Divine Reaper into a Niqols' martial art to deploy the same effects with his bare hands.
The process would obviously be complicated for normal humans. A weapon would help create the sharp membrane required by the Divine Reaper, but Khan felt confident in replicating it on his hands. The situation would be different with other features, but he knew that he could succeed when it came to sharpness.
Khan had finally decided how to take care of his jailers quickly. He couldn't test his theory out of fear of being discovered, and he didn't know how effective his attack would be, but he wasn't lost anymore.
The time to define the rest of his escape had arrived, but he could only wait before approaching those essential parts of his plan. The Stal would have never thrown Lieutenant Pouille into those cells if the barrier couldn't stop his spells. The same would probably apply to the eventual jailers that would pick him up, and Khan could guess that something similar would happen to the rest of the prisoners.
Khan had to understand how the Stal behaved and gain insights into their intentions before deciding how to act. The situation would remain hopeless if multiple aliens were to appear for each prisoner. However, he had a chance to do something if he had to deal with a single Stal. Its level wouldn't matter too much since he planned to exploit the surprise effect to the fullest.
Only a deafening and tense wait could bring answers. Khan didn't know what the Stal wanted to do with him and his group, but he remained calm and made sure to preserve his condition. He didn't meditate nor train since that would make him hungry faster, and he even avoided moving as his entire focus went on gathering information about his imprisonment.
Khan's habits made him perfect for that role. The Slums had taught him how to endure hunger and thirst. His nightmares and time on Nitis had made him used to spend entire days without sleeping. The many tragedies overcome throughout his life had given him a firm mindset that could survive heavy stress. He could wait calmly without growing anxious or committing mistakes.
It was hard to keep track of the passage of time inside the underground cell, but Khan could rely on his phone for that. The Stal didn't need to take the device away since it had lost connection with the Global Army's network even before going underground.
The night arrived, and the morning replaced it, but no Stal walked through that corridor. Only the afternoon brought a change to the long hours that Khan spent as alert as possible.
A single Stal suddenly walked from the left of the corridor and crossed the various cells until it arrived in front of the last one. Khan counted the alien's steps after it moved past his entrance. He then heard a few cries and the noises caused by clear physical struggles before a thudding sound put an end to the matter.
The steps then resounded again. Khan didn't move, but his eyes remained fixed on the barrier. The Stal crossed his cell with a fainted soldier held firmly in two arms, but he disregarded his companion. His focus remained on the alien as he tried to find items or armors that might protect it when picking prisoners. Khan even paid special attention to its power to prepare for his turn.
The barrier hindered Khan's sensitivity to mana, but he could still inspect something when the Stal was in front of his cell. The alien was a first-level warrior, while the prisoner in its arms was only close to that level. Moreover, he noticed that the Stal wasn't wearing the dirty rags seen during the previous battles. It had a tight dark suit that covered the entirety of its torso and simple metallic protections on legs and armpits.
The Stal crossed the entrance of Khan's cell before he could gain a clear idea of the suit and protections' power, but he didn't mind that too much. He was planning to kill his future jailer quickly, so he couldn't aim at those spots. Everything was fine as long as the aliens kept their necks and heads uncovered.
'Not yet,' Khan reminded himself before repeating the route to the platform in his mind.
A single inspection wasn't enough to create an escape plan. Khan didn't know if the Stal would behave differently the next time they decided to take one of the prisoners, so he continued to wait.
The night arrived again, and the morning followed, but Khan had to wait for the afternoon to hear the heavy steps of another Stal. The jailer didn't change, and it also wore the same protections. Still, it didn't have yesterday's soldier in its arms, and the walk past Khan's cell lasted slightly less too.
The noises of a physical struggle and painful cries resounded for a few seconds before the Stal returned to the left side of the corridor while carrying a soldier. Khan could sense that the prisoner was a proper first-level warrior, which filled his mind with hope.
Everything would become problematic if his jailer ended up being a second-level warrior, but he could handle things easily with someone at his level. Khan didn't know how the Stal planned to keep the entire platoon alive if they kept picking only one soldier a day without bringing water or food. Still, he didn't care too much about that since the situation benefited him.
Khan had used the steps to guess how long it would take for a jailer to appear in front of him. The last prisoner was only two cells away from him, meaning that it would take three more days for his turn if that trend continued.
Remaining without food or water for three more days would be harsh, but Khan knew that his body could take it. His battle prowess would be far from ideal, but he had to seize every chance he got.
The next day was identical to the previous. The same armored Stal crossed the corridor, reached the rightmost cell, and knocked a prisoner unconscious before dragging them somewhere.
Something different happened on Khan's fifth day of imprisonment. A few Stal went cell by cell to deliver simple trays that contained a small white bar and a simple flask full of water. A small spot opened in the barriers to allow the passage of those plates, and the aliens didn't leave each entrance until the prisoners gave those tools back. It wasn't hard for the humans to understand those strange growls when four hands pointed at the items.
Khan behaved impeccably. He ate the small bar and gulped all the water without even bothering to understand their taste. He had heard the noises of heavy beatings before, so he quickly gave everything back before sensing the small opening in the barrier close.
The previous routine resumed on the sixth day. The now-familiar armored Stal reached the cell on Khan's right and beat the soldier inside it before dragging them away.
The tension in Khan's mind intensified once the heavy steps stopped resounding throughout the corridor. He had managed to ignore loneliness, boredom, and fear the previous day because he had a goal, but everything came back stronger than before now that his plan was about to start.
The white bar and the small flask of water only managed to put a patch to his hunger and thirst. His lack of sleep also filled his mind with a faint weariness. Yet, he remained as focused as ever, even if intense emotions raged inside him. It seemed that he could grow calmer in the hours that preceded a battle.
Khan counted the hours without looking at his phone. He had never managed to understand if the cells featured cameras, but he didn't dare to take risks, especially now. The wait felt endless, and his emotions only intensified after each minute, but his body instinctively relaxed while that chaos filled his mind.
Then, the echo of familiar steps reached his ears. Khan's mind went blank as his thoughts vanished. It was now or never, so he deployed the preparations he had imagined during the past days.
Khan had played everything in his mind countless times after coming up with a plan. His imprisonment would end soon, after seven days spent in a cell. He would escape or die trying.
Khan slightly stretched his legs before placing his back on the wall to apply some pressure. His position didn't reveal the tension that afflicted his muscles. No one would notice that he wasn't really sitting on the floor.
Each step that reached his ears filled his body with the need to tremble, but no muscle moved. Khan remained perfectly still as he closed his eyes and played the incoming battle in his mind one last time. Then, he opened them right before the Stal appeared in front of his cell.
Khan immediately noticed his first miscalculation. The Stal stepped forward without waiting for the barrier to go down. Its body crossed that dense mass of mana without suffering any injury.
A series of images flashed in Khan's vision while the Stal bent downward and pulled two of its arms back to prepare punches. He had nothing but time in the previous days, and he had spent them considering what could go wrong with his plan. That granted him the promptness needed to decide whether to fight the alien inside the cell before it completed its attack.
The barrier was a miscalculation, but Khan knew that he wouldn't be able to be as quick as he wished if he let the Stal grab him. Even if he somehow managed to get out of that strong grip, he would still be in an unfavorable position that wouldn't allow him to perform a quick kill.
The thoughts about the barrier vanished as his right leg shot forward. Khan slowed down his attack on purpose, and the alien didn't disappoint him. The Stal voiced a growl as the hands prepared for the attack opened to grab the incoming limb.
Khan unleashed all the power amassed inside his left leg when he sensed the alien's thick fingers wrapping around his ankle. He jumped forward without bothering to control his movements, and he ended up being so fast that the Stal couldn't use its free arms to stop the assault.
Nevertheless, the Stal chosen to be a jailer was an experienced warrior. Its reflexes were incredible, so it promptly pulled Khan from his leg. He felt a massive force interrupting his charge, but he didn't care about the imminent clash with the floor. Only the alien's throats existed in his view.
Khan performed what he didn't dare to try in the past days. Mana accumulated over his stretched and tense right hand to create a sharp membrane. He swung his chained arms at the Stal's heads while it pulled him downward. The [Blood Shield] covered his back right before slamming on the floor, but intense pain reached his mind anyway.
A mess followed. Khan forced his vision to focus, but a torrent of blood hindered it. Then, the Stal's heavy body fell on him, but he quickly tried to lift it. Still, the action revealed the true source of his pain. His back had always been fine, but the same didn't apply to his right hand.
Khan noticed the deep cuts on the alien's throats before focusing on his right hand. The Stal's heads hung from small patches of brown skin as blood continued to flow on him. His attack had almost beheaded his opponent, but his weapon had paid the price to that achievement.
Countless cuts had opened on his right hand, and his fingers had even bent unnaturally. The same applied to his palm, which seemed split into two parts. It was clear that his injuries didn't affect only his skin. His bones and muscles had also suffered from the drawbacks of the Divine Reaper.
To be continued