'Well fuck. Why did I even come here?' Unfortunate Kyrexiel knew why he didn't try that hard to stop the old slave. 'I want to come here. I want to see him myself. To see if I can gain something to help me'
"The last one they had been sending was an old toy. I don't like old ones. They taste bad." Malak walked closer, he reached out one white hand and touched Kyrexiel hair. "Fresh ones on the other hand...hummmmm."
Adrenaline pumped through Kyrexiel so fast his head became heavy. 'I have to do something! Now!'. "You food," he stammered. "Your food. Don't you like them fresh?"
Malak paused and then he tilted his head. "You are right. I do like them fresh. Come. Eat with me."
Any hope that Kyrexiel had dried up immediately, reluctantly he turned and joined Malak in siting in front of the table. They started at each other across the table before Kyrexiel looked away with a little shiver.
It was like looking at something cruel. Malak eyes is the true definition of cruel. Kyrexiel didn't know how he came about that description but that was what came to his mind.
Malak gestured. "Open it with you?"
Kyrexiel did. And he should have expected what was inside. He did but still, his stomach quivered. Inside the tray was meat. Rashaka body. Blood dripped over it and the smell rose sharp and strong in the room.
Malak groaned in pleasure. "This is what I like! Fresh from the dark room!" He leaned and put his face directly over it, he breath in deeply.
Grey smoke rose from the meat and he inhaled it, making him grunted and groaned as if it was drugs.
Kyrexiel swallowed. There is only one 'meat' that just come out of the dark room. "Is it because of the mana?" He asked.
Malak paused and then he looked up. "The mana?" He asked. Then he started eating, he picked one piece up and eat is as casually as if it was an apple.
Kyrexiel tried not think of what he was eating. "The rich mana that comes from the bodies that entered the dark room."
Malak snorted. "No. They always assumed that's the reason and why should I tell them otherwise. But still, it's an added bonus." He continued eating.
Kyrexiel twitched but he firmed himself. "Then...is it the fear?"
Malak stilled, everything except for his eyes that slowly turned to Kyrexiel paused. Then he started eating again and let the silence lingered. "How do you know?"
Kyrexiel released a breath he was holding. 'It was a guess. A very desperate that I formulated when I saw Malak inhaled whatever the hell he did. Thank the stormgod it was the truth!'
But out loud he said with a shrug. "You did say you liked them fresh from the dark room."
Malak studied him, his eyes was hard and steady now, as if the facade of madness had been put aside. "I feed on fear. It's part of my technique. It's sweet. I love it."
Then he sniffed again and grey smoke rose in the air. This time, from Kyrexiel's body directly. Malak drank it in, his eyes fluttering close. "That's it."
Kyrexiel shuddered. Even among the Rashakas, feeding on fear was strange but not that strange. There are some old things out there that the sun even refuse to shine on.
He studied Malak as he ate. 'Is this man as the rumors said? Admittedly I've not heard a lot of things about him but I can see the way people talk about him. With fear'
"The fear we feel for you. Is it true or an illusion of your bloodline technique?" Kyrexiel licked his dried lips.
Malak shrugged. "Does it matter? Fear makes my opponents weaker and me stronger. But let's leave that. Why do you smell different? You don't smell like you look."
Kyrexiel stiffened. And he wanted his weapons with him. His hammer and his short sword. This man is more than he let on. "What are you saying?" He was getting conformable, as comfortable as one can be beside a wide animal.
"You smell funny. Strong but your tier is weak. What is your Bloodline boy?"
Kyrexiel matched Malak, eyes to eyes and if his eyes wasn't dyed then his purple eyes would glow deeply. When two bloodline met they tend to clash and then decide who the stronger one is.
Tension rose between the two, sharp like naked blades and the air between them boiled. The pure blood of the Hydraeus in Kyrexiel rose up to the challenge. Sluggish at first but soon it heated his blood and made him shivered in another away.
His aura swelled and coiled around him. Invisible but in term of bloodline aura, it's weight slammed into Malak's own and it was as easy as smacking down a pup.
There are few bloodline stronger or equal to that of Hydraeus. The other Great Clans. And maybe some others.
Malak looked away from him, beads of sweat dripped from his head. His voice was rough when he spoke. "What are you?"
Kyrexiel took his bloodline aura and sunk Invisible claws into it and dragged it back. He breath just a little faster but his blood and body still tingle from the excitement of dominating another. "Something powerful than you."
Malak's lips curled but he didn't stare at Kyrexiel in the eyes. "In terms of bloodline and right now that hardly matters. I'm stronger than you in tiers."
"Yes, right now." Kyrexiel said.
Malak didn't reply. He began to eat instead, stuffing himself with meat as fast as he could. "Why are you in the lower tier? With your Bloodline, you should advance faster."
He grimaced. 'How will I explain that I was too afraid of raising my tiers so I won't be a target? Kyrexiel did that not me!'
Then Malak froze and he looked up. "If you are in tier one and you are. That means you are in the marked prison."