Ezra and the group continued on, the mood slightly dampened by the conversation, but Korr wasn't one to let things go quiet for long. He kept firing off questions, particularly about Ezra's time as a soldier and his odd habits in general.
"Well, boss, since you refuse to tell me anything about your time in the rebellion, I've got another question," Korr began, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "Why do you speak a bunch of different languages in your sleep? I've heard everything from Orc to Elvish. I've always been kind of curious about that."
Ezra gave a small, resigned sigh but didn't answer immediately.
Ezra shrugged and let out a soft chuckle. "Well, according to Ryzen, the old bastard who forced me to learn all that bullshit, 'You never know where you'll meet an ally, and if you can talk to them, that's even better.' So, after he drilled that nonsense into my head, he made me learn a bunch of different languages. I had to speak them in my sleep just to keep from forgetting them. Honestly, no matter how eccentric the old man was, you'd be surprised how many times knowing Orc saved my ass."
Ezra pushed the larger man off of him and unsheathed his sword, his eyes narrowing. "Eyes up, Korr. We have company. I'll protect the girl this time."
Alfira sighed, clearly frustrated. "You know my name, why don't you use it?"
But Ezra ignored her, his focus sharp as he scanned the surroundings. Korr stepped forward, cracking his knuckles with a grin and punching his fist into his open hand.
Korr let out a low growl as his muscles rippled, his body swelling in size and strength. His fur began to grow thicker, turning darker around his shoulders and arms as his senses sharpened. The transformation was quick, and within moments, he towered over the group of cultists, a hulking figure of raw power.
Ezra smirked from behind, his sword at the ready. "Didn't know you were this good, Korr. Show them what you're made of."
With a roar, Korr charged, his large frame moving with surprising speed as he barreled into the first line of cultists. The pikes they carried clattered uselessly off his hardened skin, snapping like twigs under the weight of his onslaught. The cultists tried to surround him, but they were too slow, and their weapons seemed to have no effect on the beast-man's armor-like hide.
Korr swung a massive fist, sending one of the cultists flying through the air, his body crashing into two others, knocking them down like pins. He grinned savagely, enjoying the carnage. His claws lashed out, slicing through the air, and with one powerful swipe, he cleaved through another two cultists, their weapons disintegrating on impact.
The remaining cultists hesitated, panic in their eyes as they tried to regroup, but Korr was relentless. He charged into their ranks, his fists swinging like battering rams. One cultist tried to stab him in the side with a jagged dagger, but the blade bounced off Korr's thick fur, breaking into shards as if it had hit stone.
"Pathetic," Korr growled, twisting his body and sending a heavy elbow into another cultist's face, snapping his neck with a sickening crunch.
Ezra watched in awe from the sidelines, impressed by the sheer brutality of Korr's assault. "Damn, you're like a one-man wrecking crew. They don't even know what hit them."
Korr didn't respond, his focus entirely on the fight as he waded through the remaining cultists with terrifying ease. They tried to strike back, but their weapons shattered or glanced harmlessly off his body, and with each swing of his massive fists, more bodies fell. His form became a blur of raw, unrelenting force, each hit more devastating than the last.
Within moments, the cultists were scattered on the ground, broken and defeated, the few who managed to survive fleeing in terror. Korr stood tall, panting heavily, his massive chest rising and falling as he surveyed the wreckage.
"All in a day's work," he said with a grin, wiping the blood from his hands. "You can thank me later, boss."
Alfira smiled, her eyes still wide with awe. "Truly amazing. I've seen him fight before, but seeing it in a less panicked state is incredible. I knew beast people were strong, but this is beyond my imagination. If these are just the first two members of your mercenary group, it's scary to think how far you'll go. Keep up this pace, and you might even be the ones to take down the Witch of Amber."
Ezra chuckled, shaking his head. "You're really a dreamer, you know that? You want to live peacefully with the surface races, and now you're talking about killing the Witch of Amber?" He let out a short laugh. "The hag's been around since before my dad was a swimmer in my grandpa's nutsack. She's not going anywhere anytime soon. I doubt she's even evil. If she was, she could've easily taken over a few kingdoms by now. But she doesn't seem like she's out for world domination. She probably just wants to be left alone."
Ezra's tone softened as he stared off into the distance. "Besides, trying to take down someone like her? That's a fool's errand. She's got power beyond anything we could handle, and I don't think even the gods want to mess with her. She's not our problem right now."
Alfira sighed, her gaze drifting to the horizon. "I guess she hasn't really done anything worth killing her over anyway. I heard from my grandmother that she even let the civilians leave the continent before she conquered it."
Ezra chuckled, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "I know demons live a long time, but how old are you, anyway?"
Alfira looked taken aback, surprised that this was the first time he asked her something not related to her mission. She hesitated before answering. "I'm actually young, even for a human. I'm only twenty-one. My mom waited a long time before having children."
Ezra raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "Only twenty-one, huh? You've got some years ahead of you, then."
Alfira smiled faintly, her gaze distant. "I suppose so."