The Lone Wanderer

“I’ve been clearing new channels all week, but I still can’t figure out how this thing works.” Acton clicked his tongue in frustration.

Micky barely spared him a glance as he landed beside him in a flurry of feathers and residual mana. He had long learned to keep his expressions neutral, his emotions locked behind the pretence of obedience. There was no point in antagonizing his captor: it would only make his life harder.

Originally, he’d wanted to keep Circulation hidden, unwilling to offer Acton even a sliver of insight into the technique. Doing so would only make him stronger than he already was: harder for the others to rescue him. Sadly, the boy had already witnessed the spell during their chase, leaving Micky no choice but to demonstrate it upon receiving the command.

‘It’s fine. He won’t be able to copy it. He doesn’t even know he’s supposed to strengthen his body first.’ Micky reminded himself. ‘Besides, Percy is right. I need it.’

Percy had advised him to keep both Regulation and Circulation running at all times regardless. They were essential to minimizing his stamina drain and to furthering his training. Not only that, but he’d instructed him to continue working on his water and ice affinities, to complete the spell as soon as possible.

They weren’t just thinking about the present. Cut off from Aurora Dew, Micky’s growth was already stalling. Even worse, Acton hadn’t given him any regular elixirs either, having not yet realised that his second core required them, just like everyone else’s. If his first core reached Green before his second got to Yellow, finding enough food would grow even harder. At that point, the only way to quell his hunger would be through his spells: meaning he couldn’t afford to slack off.

Glancing at his wings, he felt a wave of relief as he marvelled at the two sets of glowing lines decorating his plumage. The green ones swirled like gales of wind, as the newest addition: the aquamarine lines: resembled waves.

‘Well, at least I’ve got the water pattern down. Only one to go.’

It was barely any consolation given his current predicament, but he’d take what he could. With this, the mana flowing to and from his abdomen was balanced at last, meaning he wouldn’t have to waste the excess. Of course, converting the water mana to beast mana wasn’t as efficient without a mutation, but that would hopefully get fixed in time.

As for the amber lines, they weren’t there at the moment. Luckily, Acton’s commands to “use that weird spell” and to “get a move on” hadn’t been too explicit, leaving them open to interpretation. This was how Micky had managed to hold on to his beast mana, though he’d still been forced to fly back to Goldenfield town faster than he’d have liked.

“Hey, don’t look so sad!” Acton grinned, some amusement seeping into his tone. “I told you I’d get you something to eat, didn’t I? There are hundreds of people living here, plenty of them at Yellow or Green! You can have as many as you like!”

Micky felt the blood freezing in his veins at the sheer nonchalance in the boy’s voice as he casually talked about feeding him his own kin. This was precisely what they’d feared! Clearly, Acton didn’t give a shit about the commoners. He’d gladly sacrifice hordes of them just to make his own life a little easier.

Recoiling in disgust, Micky tried to resist the command. To stop walking. He pushed against the illusory chains with everything he had, using every drop of willpower in his body. But it was futile, his talons digging into the dirt no slower than before as he strove forward.

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‘No! Please, don’t make me do this!’ the scream died in his throat.

Sure, he’d eaten humans before, but only their enemies: the people who’d tried to kill him or Percy. The thought of massacring a bunch of innocents just to satiate his hunger made him sick. It was wrong. Repugnant.

He was tempted to beg, but he doubted Acton would listen. It would only reveal his ability to speak, making everything worse.

Oblivious to his thoughts, the growing crowd parted before them, startled gasps and awed exclamations echoing near the gate. He didn’t know whether the townsfolk were more shocked by the arrival of the Holy Child, or by his own: a Yellow beast with two cores following obediently behind a human. Either way, it didn’t matter.

A few stepped back in unease, but most of them were completely unaware of the danger they were in. In fact, many had the opposite reaction.

“A Holy Child!” a woman shouted gleefully.

“It’s our town’s fortune to receive you!” another added.

Many more cheered, some of them even bowing in respect. The fools were happy to see the little monster! As for the demon in question, he failed to suppress a smirk at the irony of the situation.

‘Run, you idiots! Grab your kids and get the hell out of here! I won’t be able to stop myself once he gives the command!’

Micky’s heart raced like crazy, a frantic drumbeat pounding against his ribs. He clenched his beak as tightly as he could, ignoring the piercing pain as cracks rippled through it.

‘Percy, help me! I don’t know how, but you can’t let me do this!’

It didn’t take long for Percy’s voice to ring in his mind, accompanied by a wave of horror and a packet of soul mana.

‘Help me strengthen the connection. We’ll fight this together.’

Without wasting a moment, Micky bounced the mana right back, working with his friend to widen the cord. He wasn’t sure this would be enough to stop him: they’d already tried and failed to resist the boy’s bloodline before: but Percy’s words still brought hope to Micky’s eyes. There was nobody else on Remior he trusted more. Just having him by his side meant the world.

“Go on then. Eat.” Acton muttered, his voice barely a whisper.

But Micky heard it clearly, every word slamming into his skull with undeniable authority.

Some of the commoners must’ve heard him too, as the smiles froze on their faces, their features twisting in terror. Sadly for them, however, Acton never gave them a chance to escape. Stone walls rose from the ground, trapping dozens of people with Micky. Among them were men and women of all ages, ranging from Reds to Yellows, from toddlers to an elderly lady.

There was a Green in the group too, though he didn’t look like much of a fighter. Instead of attacking Acton, his first instinct was to turn around and try to break through the prison. Unfortunately, his pitiful water spells splashed harmlessly against the construct. As for the others, they didn’t even try to resist.

Regardless, Acton unleashed his domain for good measure, sealing the deal. Everyone who had somehow managed to remain standing instantly fell to their knees, whatever strength they had left evaporating from their muscles.

At the same time, the ground shook as a second round of constructs clawed their way up, not taking long to pierce the surface. It was a series of giant hands made of stone, one for each person. The colossal limbs grabbed their immobilized victims, each of them large enough to close comfortably around an adult’s body.

The joyous cheers that had previously filled the place were instantly replaced by panicked screams and pained shrieks, everyone finally realizing this wasn’t a day of celebration.

As for Micky, he’d never stopped bouncing mana to his friend for even a second, as his body continued to move on its own. Walking up to the nearest prisoner, he barely halted for a moment as his tall frame loomed over her, casting an ominous shadow over her limp frame.

She was a woman whose appearance placed her in her twenties, a Yellow core pulsing in her chest. His shadow wasn’t nearly dark enough to hide the agony in her expression or the fear in her eyes. Her features were covered in snot and tears as she silently pled for mercy. But no sound escaped her lips, the giant fist clenched around her chest having squeezed the breath out of her lungs.

“Come on already. We haven’t got all day.” Acton spat.

The boy’s voice was cold, devoid of empathy: as if he had ordered him to munch on a worm rather than a person. Yet his words resonated with his bloodline once more, amplifying the pressure in Micky’s mind.

His beak opened against his will, his muscles tensing. He had no control over any of this, but he could tell he was about to rip the core right of the woman’s sternum the very next second!

‘Percy! It’s now or never!’