I almost jumped out of the way as the air crackled with authority. "Don't slack now, you dimwits."
Taking a sharp, screeching turn as my feet dug into the muddy ground, I hid behind the back-wall of a forgery making swords. Peeking subtly from the side, I saw a man standing on a bucket.
Loose long hair that reached up to his middle back and a pair of slit violet eyes. And while that wasn't a feature that was uncommon, the two sharp horns with grooves that bent upward after extending down from his temples was what made him stand out the most. The same horns that Michael had imagined atop his head.
Just with a different orientation.
He looked here and there, a frown adorning his face like a permanent part of it. Even when it eased out for a fleeting moment, the deep creases formed on his face gave him the look of a perpetually angry and sour man. He almost smiled and I followed his line of sight, however, the frown returned back to his face as soon as the cloaked man removed his hood.
"Sire, Good Evening, sire." A short, chubby man greeted, getting on both of his knees. From his messy, curly hair to his dirty clothes, long beard to the round- almost square chubby body screamed that he was a Dwarf.
The man looked down at him with an unhidden disdain. "What is it, Brogan? It better not be idle chatter."
His voice was commanding, albeit not as condescending as one would think of based on first impressions. "I am already in a bad mood because of that old bat wandering off without telling me."
"Of course, Sire Ed. It's about your weapon." He rose up to his feet and nervously and somewhat excitedly rubbed his hands together.
"Fine. Just know that if its enchantment is still not complete, I will have your head on the spike and have it thrown to the Wujins for wasting my precious time."
The dwarf shivered visibly and shrunk back, his already small stature looking even more miniscule now. Even the extremely broad shoulders didn't help the fact that he had caved his body in, as if trying to appear as small as he could.
"Of course, sire... I would never waste your time."
Saying that, he started to walk towards the decently sized rectangular workshop. It didn't have any doors or covers to hide the people working inside. The hearth was aflame in the middle of it and the flames and molten metal drowned the entire workplace in a colourful mix of golden and orange in the progressively darkening place.
As they walked side-by-side, I sneakily walked behind them and started running once again. It was getting dark. Before Michael gets too drunk and starts to blow our cover, I need to at least know what the deal with the colosseum is.
Weaving past another dwarf that was carrying two pints in his hands, I dodged bumping into him as he muttered a string of curses. I casted one sidelong look at him before running again.
I got hold of my Arcanum and maintained the bare minimum of my attention towards running. Expanding the scale of my senses, I focused on finding anyone who might have a potent Arcanum signature. My speed slowed, however, once again I felt like I was drifting over everyone.
However, unlike Earth…this was breathtaking.
The way Arcanum gathered and swirled in the air, painting the dull canvas of this world with the beautiful- breathtaking colours was so, so beautiful. I took in the sight of the huge dots of Arcanum- which were the people carrying it- one by one, probing for the biggest one of them.
I spotted one, just behind me. The place I had left a while ago. It must belong to the man who the Dwarf referred to as Sire. Another Arcanum signature blipped brightly. It shone like a star whose brilliance couldn't be snuffed out even by the unimaginable distance.
Michael, I noticed. It was him.
Even though from the stillness of his Arcanum signature I could tell that he was not in any kind of skirmish, it still blossomed like a flower in spring bloom. Quality and quantity, he was superior to me in both those aspects.
It was enviable.
Pushing those thoughts aside, I focused on the area that was still unexplored. Varying frequencies of waves also washed out of me and flooded over the entire "Keep," as I once again took in everything.
Most of the people were now trickling out of the forges and started gravitating toward the few spots designated for socialising. Probably the local watering holes—pubs—and...
"Ahnnn~"
Ahem... establishments of a more intimate nature.
Yes, it would seem like brothels managed to make their way into a place like this as well. It was a surprise honestly. Since other races can't copulate that much. I guess they changed after so long.
The same moan blasted in my ears once again, this time extended and more erotic, full of lust.
I cringed, quickly releasing the dominion over the information pouring from that part of this small town-like place.
It was a real buzzkill. The same heightened senses that made me feel like a transcended being ended, causing a real pain in the… neck.
Oh, how I wished I could just unsee and unhear what I'd stumbled upon.
But hey, what could I have done? Just gotta roll with it, I guess.
As my heightened senses returned back to normal, I looked around myself. I had already reached the towering spire that was a few yards away from the colosseum.
I dispelled every last hint of Arcanum augmenting my body and then sealed off the primary node, not letting a single drop of Arcanum leak out. With my back against the base of the spire, I tried to walk right underneath the guard's nose that was stationed right above me, on the observatory of the spire.
As I took a step forward, an arrow whistled past my ear.
"You there, halt!"
Oh well…
As the man jumped from around 50 feet, I let my Arcanum burst out wildly as well. Extending my hand towards him, I took a hold of the arrow inside his quiver. The arrow jolted, shaking for a while before dislodging itself from the quiver's lock and flew right into my hand.
As the man landed with a barely perceptible sound, I swivelled around and barely held his neck in a chokehold with my right arm. His shoulders were broad enough to make me barely able to hold him in place.
A dwarf.
His elbow drove into my exposed left, crashing against the ribs with an overwhelming intensity as the Arcanum was still in the process of flowing seamlessly after the primary node was sealed.
I held the arrow tight in my hand and Arcanum pulsed like blood flowing through it. Swinging it in a straight line, I attacked his neck. However, his wide hand covered in leather caught a hold of it, stopping it midway.
And then, the ground beneath ripped itself apart making me lose my hold over the man.
Something akin to a dark cyclone jumped upwards from the fissure into the ground, followed by tens, if not hundreds of needle-thin black spikes.
I swung my arm as fast as I could, using the arrow as a rapier.
A few needles lodged themselves into my flesh and pinned the robes fabric right over the bleeding wound.
As I looked up, I saw another dwarf with a huge mace in one hand and the other resting over the one before, patting him.
"You good, Birta?"
"Yes, Gunnar."
They exchanged quick pleasantries as I yanked the spikes out of my skin. The wet and warm sensation of blood flowing out lingered only for a fleeting few seconds before vanishing as Arcanum started to do what little healing it could.
Since my Arcanum didn't have healing properties, it could not heal me. At least not like how Astrid's Arcane Arts can.
It was quite dark now and I couldn't exactly catch their features over the rush of adrenaline in my veins, however, going by the names' basis and the slight difference in their voices' pitch, one of them was a woman. The one I had caught and tried to kill before.
The one called Gunnar flicked his head in my direction. "Not only were you trespassing into 'The Black Pit of Death,' you just tried to kill the guard as well." He spoke in a much calmer way. "Even if you are a demon, this treason warrants immediate death."
It was not the words that made me jump in subtle fright but the thing that he conjured out of thin air. Another mace with streaks of orange running all along it pulsed into the progressively increasing dark of the night fell into his hand after appearing from a flash of white.
That wasn't any Arcane Art. This is new.
I had never heard of weapons appearing out of thin air.
Maybe they did advance. Just not in the way we did, but rather in a magical way. That would make much more sense.
Lowering my stance, I pointed the tip of my arrow towards the dwarves.
"Filthy demon."
The corner of my lips curved into a smirk as I pulled my hood back and shook my head backwards, removing the locks of hair that had stuck to my face due to the constant precipitation.
"Oh, I am not a demon." I mocked. "I am something far filthier."
The light of Gunnar's mace pulsating illuminated his features for a brief second revealing a single braid of red hair resting on left shoulder and a chest length red beard.
His black eyes were wide, as if suspended in a constant state of shock before shakily murmuring.
"A…human"