When they left the camp, Lucas felt a shift in the atmosphere, like something that had been suppressed where he had been had kept its unpolluted state in the other parts of the place they were.
That new atmosphere seemed compatible with him, or a part of him. His eyes flashed but he stayed still.
The one carrying him kept running with the crowd toward a cacophony that only proved a chaotic situation.
The bumpy ride soon brought him to the cacophony. Just as his carrier had said, he used him as a weapon, and maybe he was fortunate, only as a throwing weapon.
He endured blows after flying for a while, before a hindrance that was pushed around. Luck or his thick skin from the baptisms helped him not have wounds too deep from bladed weapons.
Or the ones fighting were too weak to make him lose his limbs. Though he didn't manage to take in the appearance of the ones fighting the Garsans in his hazy state.
