Kyrexiel smelled at the old slave's sweat from his place. Malak must be having such a great time drinking in his fear but he had other ideas for the slave.
He moved closer to the two of them, ignoring the guards who shouted out a warning that he should stay in his place. "You're not going to kill him?" He asked casually.
Kyrexiel wasn't a petty person. He wasn't when he was on earth but the Kyrexiel that grew up here was taught while growing up to always pay people back. For good or for worse.
Malak turned. "His flesh will all stringy."
The old slave whimpered, shooting Kyrexiel a panicked glance. "W...wh..what!" He stammered.
"You can't know. Maybe he's different. His meat might be good. You won't know until you've tried it. And he's so filled with fear right now he'll taste just right."
Malak looked at Kyrexiel and then he laughed. "You are right!"
The lead guard shouted. "Malak no!"
The slave tried to run but the red in Malak's eyes flared, and the surroundings responded. The mana in the air did as he wanted and held the old man in place.
Kyrexiel understood now. Malak's eyes itself were shorv. 'Such an interesting thing!'
"Don't try to run from me. It only makes me more excited," Malak grinned. "Your flesh is so filled with fear that it might cover the stink of old age."
Then he fell on the man, his right hand clawed at his head playfully but Malak was tier four and his 'playful' slap was like a car hit.
The man's head exploded back, bones crunching like cheap glasses and blood painting the wall a faint red. Malak licked his hand and made a disgusted sound. "I knew it. That's why I don't like old things."
The lead guard looked as if he wanted to use his sword on Malak but thought better of it. Kyrexiel thought it fortunate for the guard because no one in the Ometra could stop Malak, even the collar around his neck probably wouldn't hold him.
"Master won't be happy with you." The lead guard said, risking a glare at Malak but not looking him in the eyes. Then he turned his attention to Kyrexiel. "And you..."
"I'm ready for the dark room." Kyrexiel cut him off by moving forward.
The guards blinked. They'd never met anyone who ever said that about the darkroom before. The lead guard shrugged. "Follow me." There's no reason to punish him for running away. It's not like he'll survive anyway.
"I'll lead him. Only you can follow us." Malak pointed at the lead guard.
The guards stiffened. They did not like that someone not in their clan, and especially not the clan leader was ordering them. But this is tier four. This is Malak. They grumbled and walked away, their eyes on Kyrexiel. 'What is going on between those two?'
The lead guard returned his sword to its place beside him and followed them as they walked the hallway.
"Why are you following me?" Kyrexiel asked.
"Because I'm going to wait at the entrance to the darkroom for your body to be expelled," Malak said with a smirk. The aura around him has lessened now as if he had pulled it close to him like a cloak.
Kyrexiel looked at him again. It was really impressive that he was in the tier four. Lots, a lot of people were stuck in the third tier. 'Maybe I can find a way to invite him over to my clan. My mother needs every hand she can get' he thought to himself.
But he shook his head. Malak is like a wild beast that won't do well in a place with order. He's the type that feeds on the edge of chaos. Kyrexiel almost smiled. 'Chaos. I can give him that given enough time'
"Are there any tricks to surviving the dark room?" Kyrexiel asked, they were now in the central prison but now, but something was different that immediately made him slowed down.
Everywhere was silent.
The guards. The slaves. Even the beasts. They all stopped to look at the scene. The mad powerhouse among them, the one that kill as he wanted, and the tier one nobody whose only achievement was fighting a one-time fight. A soon-to-be dead.
Why are the two walking and talking together?
The whispers soon followed as the guards slapped the slaves into working. But that wasn't Kyrexiel's concern. No, it was the eyes like rough metals on his back that made him twitch.
He looked back. The fighter slaves that were in the prison were sizing him up. A tier one he might be but he gained fame in his first nonofficial fight and now he's walking around with Malak?
Malak who they had all tried to cozy up to?
The eyes grew hostile and the mana in the air stiffened as tension coiled like spring. Malak stopped and then he flexed his aura, a flare of power that disrupted the mana like a splash of water.
The eyes on them vanished immediately.
"No. I don't know how to survive it. I don't know how I do it." Malak smiled. "Bad for you, good for me eh, Reaper blood."
Kyrexiel grunted. He was doing his best to keep fear from taking over but it was a futile thing. It's not only the fear but also frustration. 'Seems this world has a habit of landing me where I don't want'
'I must survive this. I must save my Great Clan and my mother before I get back to earth. I owe it to myself. To the goal I made for myself
It was little but it helped calm him. Just a bit.
"Your fear mixed with the smell of your blood and it's sending my blood to all the wrong places." Malak's eyes shone with lust and his tongue darted out to taste the air like a snake. "I can't wait to eat you."
Kyrexiel shuddered. He didn't know if it was because of Malak or the door to the dark room he was seeing.