Ishaan lifted one side of the giant trough, dumping a pile of food into the hole. The motion barely took any effort now that the piles became so light. Today, the pile was lighter than yesterday, and yesterday, it had been lighter than the day before. It was a matter of course. He had to adjust the amount to the number of the survivors after all.
Well, that wasn't quite right. Truth be told, Ishaan had no idea how many people were still alive down there. After all, he didn't go down to check. No, the truth was that the number of survivors was very much determined by the amount of food he threw into that hole. If he wouldn't reduce the amount every day, the need for fighting would also decrease.
"Feeding time!" he yelled.
Oh, how much he loved those words, knowing the kind of frenzy his call would cause. He wanted nothing more than to go down and watch the ensuing scramble. He wanted to watch how the Chimeroi ripped each other apart, like the animals they were.
Unfortunately, he couldn't.
In their current state, they wouldn't be able to hold themselves back from attacking him either. That would leave him with no other choice but to kill them. And that wouldn't do at the moment, as he was most likely already cutting it close, numbers-wise. The leader had demanded that half of them survive, after all.
With a gleam in his eyes, he watched the assorted foodstuffs tumble down and disappear into the darkness. For a long moment, he stood there quietly, listening to the ensuing symphony of chaos. The snarling, growling, yelling, and whimpering never got old.
Ishaan truly loved this part of his job, the part where the thin veneer of civility was stripped away from the Chimeroi to reveal them for the beasts they really were. This was unquestionably what he appreciated most about their Mana breathing technique. Sure, it allowed the Chimeroi to become stronger at an incredible rate as well, but that was only secondary in his opinion. It was far more useful that it reverted them to their primal, raw state.
After all, only beasts could be trained, not people.
Ishaan didn't know who had initially come up with the idea to teach the Chimeroi language and manners, but it surely had to have been a great villain. Why else would anybody try to change their intrinsic, base nature in such a perverse way? It was like expecting a dog to pay his taxes — utterly ridiculous.
Of course, such a misguided effort couldn't have ended in any utter way than in a complete disaster. And this disaster had a name: Undercity. While the proud capital up above was a symbol of prosperity and virtue, the city down below was the exact opposite.
Ishaan scoffed at the thought that some people had the audacity to be surprised by this result. How else could the city have turned out when its population was comprised mostly of beasts? It was entirely nonsensical to expect those animals to take care of themselves or their surrounding.
Ishaan sighed and unclenched his balled-up fists. There was no point getting angry over the stupidity of other people. Granted, it was easy to confuse the Chimeroi with humans, as their exterior was rather deceiving. However, he still couldn't forgive the people who tried to argue that they should be treated as citizens. The bestial noises from below him were all the proof he needed to know that it was impossible. If only those people could listen to this as well, they would quickly change their tune.
With a contemptuous snort, Ishaan flipped the lever. The massive iron grate fell down, sealing the hole for one last day. Tomorrow, he would finally be able to see the results. This last week should have put them into the perfect state to be molded into the loyal dogs of the syndicate.
With a face full of anticipation, Ishaan turned away, eager to return to his quarters. He had left his favorite toy waiting for too long already. However, before he could take more than a few steps, he felt a chill go down his spine, and the hair on his neck stood on end.
What was this overwhelming sense of danger?
Ishaan tried to whirl around, but before he could move, a blade penetrated his back, aiming straight for his heart. Panic gripped him for a moment, but his honed reflexes kicked in. Instantly, one of his ribs shifted, blocking the path of the blade. As a Bone Mage, moving his bones came as natural to him as moving his fingers.
The blade and bone collided, and Ishaan was happy to see that his rib came out on top. He whirled around and attacked the person he could sense behind him. Unfortunately, the assailant retreated in time, disappearing right before the strike connected. He had even managed to widen the wound before disappearing like a specter. This looked rather grim.
Ishaan focused on the hooded figure who stood a couple of steps away. From the outline of their silhouette, Ishaan guessed that it was a man, and most likely not a Chimeroi, given the Mana fluctuations. His eyes trailed down their right arm, coming to rest on a long, blood-coated blade. No, the blade wasn't just coated in blood; it was made of blood. A Blood Mage? Also, it seemed a blade had replaced his entire arm. Was he a member of the Bloodsword family?
"Who are you?" Ishaan demanded.
He didn't really expect an answer. He merely asked to gain some time to get his bearings. He was stunned when the man actually started to lower his hood, revealing a face he recognized immediately.
***
After his blade had failed to reach Ishaan's heart, Zeke teleported to the edge of his sphere of awareness. It was unfortunate that he hadn't been able to end this fight with his first strike, but another part of him was glad for it. He didn't want Ishaan to die so easily, and without even knowing who had killed him. Also, his hands were itching for a fight. Well, his hand was, as he only had the one remaining.
"Are you sure about this?" the Dragon asked. "He is a Grand Mage. Your chances would be far better if you summoned me."
"I can't just continue to rely on you for all my fights," Zeke replied calmly. "Otherwise, I would become helpless the moment you leave."
"Pah," the Dragon spat. "That is still a long time away, whelp. You'll have time enough to get stronger."
Zeke smiled slightly. "It's not like he's going to give me the time to summon you anyway."
Before the Dragon could respond, Ishaan interrupted their mental communication with a loud yell. "Who are you?"
There was no need to hide his identity any longer, as only one of them would leave this place alive anyway. Zeke used his left hand to pull back the hood covering his face. The shock and recognition were evident on Ishaan's face as his features were revealed. It seemed he really hadn't expected to see him here.
"H-How can it be you?" he stammered.
"Hello, instructor. Long time no see," Zeke greeted with a smile.
For a moment, Ishaan was too stunned to react. However, he soon got a hold of his emotions and narrowed his eyes. Even though his situation hadn't changed, the Grand Mage seemed more relaxed now that he knew who he was dealing with.
"Blood Dragon," he murmured. "What are you here for?"
Zeke smiled derisively. "Isn't it obvious?" As he said that, he lightly swung his blade. The motion caused the blood to splatter to the floor, drawing a half-circle on the ground—Ishaan's blood.
Ishaan narrowed his eyes even further. "So you have come to kill me?"
Zeke's smile widened. He knew exactly what the man was trying to do. "I have no intention of answering any of your silly questions, instructor. Take out your weapon already."
Ishaan flinched upon hearing those words. He must have thought he had been sneaky while extracting his weapon. Unfortunately, his actions couldn't escape from Zeke's [Perfect Spatial Awareness]. In one rushed motion, Ishaan pulled the whip out of his spine, where he usually stored the weapon.
"You cocky brat," Ishaan sneered. "I don't know what gave you the confidence to challenge me but know that it was a huge mistake. Now, call your pitiful lizard so we can get this over with." It was evident that he felt a lot more confident with his weapon in hand.
Zeke shook his head with a cocky expression. "I won't need him for a small fry like you."
Of course, that was a lie. He would love to summon the Dragon, but there was no way that Ishaan would give him the chance. After all, unlike a real Summoner, it took him about half a minute to cast his [Blood Manifestation].
"Suit yourself, then," Ishaan hissed through gritted teeth. While saying those words, a change came over his body. From his knees, shoulders, ribs, and feet, white bone plates emerged, sprouting like mushrooms after the first spring rain. Before long, his entire body had been covered in smooth white armor.
Zeke's eyes gleamed with interest. He knew that Bone Mages were hailed as the fighters with the strongest defense, but this was the first time he saw their fabled [Bone Armor] in person. It was a lot more impressive than he had imagined. From head to toe, not a single speck of Ishaan's skin was exposed, and even the joints were covered.
"This is quite impressive," he praised sincerely.
Without wasting any more time, Zeke changed the shape of his right forearm. The magical construct, which had been in the shape of a blade, elongated to take the form of a whip. He flicked it lightly, testing the feel of his favorite weapon. His [Blood Whip] snapped out, cutting through the surrounding stone like a hot knife through butter.
"So you weren't lying back then," Ishaan said, his voice notably altered by the armor, which lowered its tone and lent it a haunting resonance. "Very well, let us find out if you truly know how to handle a whip."
With a light flick of his hand, the [Bone Whip] came to life and ate up the distance between them. Zeke barely had the time to move before the weapon reached him. Cranking his neck to the left, the whip barely missed his head. However, in the next moment, the coiling rope changed course, circling around him like a serpent. Zeke's eyes opened wide as he realized there was nowhere left to run.
Before the net could fully close around him, Zeke teleported away, appearing to the left of his opponent. Using the element of surprise, he struck out with his own weapon. Ishaan seemed not to have expected this development, as his reaction was a beat late. Zeke smiled ferociously as his swing impacted against Ishaan's neck with full force. However, his joy was short-lived.
Instead of cutting through his opponent, the whip wrapped around Ishaan's neck without leaving a dent. Zeke pulled the rope taut, determined to at least deprive his opponent of oxygen, but he failed once more.
"Is that your trump card?" Ishaan asked leisurely. If the whip around his neck had any effect on him, he was not showing it. "So, you were hiding a Space affinity, huh? Well, it will not save you if this is the best you can do."
Zeke frowned and pulled the leash as hard as he could. However, Ishaan didn't budge. Even when he put his whole back into the effort, he couldn't make his opponent move in the slightest. Zeke felt like he was a child fighting against a full-grown man.
"Pathetic," Ishaan sneered, and flicked his wrist again.
Zeke was forced to abandon his hold on Ishaan's throat. His whip liquified for an instant to uncoil itself before shooting out to meet the attack. The two weapons collided. Zeke had expected them to either clash or get tangled in the exchange. However, that wasn't what happened. Instead, the [Bone Whip] cleaved through his own weapon without any resistance.
Zeke teleported again, saving himself at the last moment. He appeared at his previous position once more, a deep frown on his face. This was a lot more troublesome than he had expected. Not only could Ishaan's armor easily absorb his attacks, but he wasn't even able to trade blows with his weapon.
"How often can you do that?" Ishaan taunted.
Zeke grimaced. He was well aware that he couldn't rely on his [Teleportation] forever. The spell put a significant burden on his Core. At least, he would tire out far sooner than Ishaan, who didn't have to spend any Mana to attack.
He would have to think of something… and soon.