They destroyed everything in the underground, either through burning it, like they did with the mags, or through the raw power of Sonder in her banshee form.
Through her own will, she turned into that hideous form.
The weight of her pain and fury was ample for her to easily transition into this form, and despite having more clarity than ever before, her focus remained unwavering on her initial intent: destruction.
She worked fast as she tore through walls and sliced through steel using her talons, sifting through the remnants of the irath. Not much survived, but a handful still clung to consciousness, teetering on the edge of the afterlife, and if anything else was still whole and alive.
As she traversed the area, she, against her own desire, absorbed fragments of the deceased in this space, and the longer she lingered, the more she absorbed.
Sonder's body was growing stronger, filling with the essence of the fallen; it was sickening, but her determination overpowered the repulsion.
The banshee within her thrived on it; its wailing cries would become more pronounced and potent.
Before long, it seemed they were the sole survivors, aside from those already on the brink of death.
Time was the only foe they had to face now. Their destructive actions had drawn attention from above.
Soon enough, the Irathy guards would descend into the dungeon to conduct their investigation. Vell and Sonder had to make their move before they were found.
Sonder's primary concern was to ensure that no other soul was trapped here and next in line for the irathy slaughter.
Vell watched her from a distance, his eyes reflecting curiosity.
In his long life, he had witnessed countless forms of magic, but the raw, primal energy that Sonder commanded was exceptional. It was not driven by knowledge, practice, or even divine intervention, but by her pure, unfiltered vengeance.
"Are you ready?" he asked, his voice reverberating in the scorched dungeon.
The banshee turned without uttering a single word, yet her expression conveyed all Vell needed to know.
He raised his staff and invoked "Pac Urm Red."
In an instant, they vanished, only to reappear well beyond the perimeters of Irath, with Sonder's banshee nature concealing the trace and trail of the mana Vell used to cast the spell.
They stood there, gazing into the distance, for a brief moment.
It was so early that the sun's ascension had yet to crest the horizon.
It was just another day like any other, but for Sonder, it felt like a completely different world, one far grimmer than the one she knew before, one devoid of hope.
She settled down on a rock, struggling to grasp the reality of it all.
Vell took a seat beside her.
"After all this, do you still yearn for revenge?"
She lifted her head, shrinking in size as the beast within her receded.
"Yes. I want the one responsible for all this to perish." She cleared her mind, but one clear thought remained, "...I want to kill the irathy king."
Vell gazed into the skies, many things on his mind: "The demise of the irathy king would indeed cause a global upheaval. Are you planning to amass an army and wage war against the nation?"
"No. Everyone else responsible is dead already. I just want him."
"Clever. Irath isn't a hydra. Behead it, and the rest will naturally perish," he stated.
"But it is your choice, Vell. You are my master, and I am the thrall. If my desires clash against yours, then let me meet my end right here, for I have nothing else to live for."
"NCalm yourself. Why must you perceive the world in such a bleak and despairing light? -- But the king is a powerful figure, not just politically. His iron-fisted rule over the country for many years is due to his sheer strength."
Faced with Vell's words, Sonder looked at him with desolate eyes and asked, "What should I do?"
He stroked his chin. "Training seems to be the answer. You need to match his power and then surpass it."
He stood up, "I imagine this is the day the little girl from that tiny village has fully died. Now reborn as Blackbird Sonder, the protégé of the Dread Mage, and potentially a future force to be reckoned with, capable of challenging kings.