The Ogre Strength Fairy and the Eldest 'Son'
Chapter 260 - Disciples In The Shadow Of Wrath: How I Dare Not Proudly Call My Philosophy Modern

Chapter 260: Chapter 260 - Disciples In The Shadow Of Wrath: How I Dare Not Proudly Call My Philosophy Modern

Nohre’s grip tightened on her walking stick as she watched their master hold both thieves with an almost lazy grip on their wrists. Watched them frozen in place by whatever pressure the small brunette was exerting at close range. The fact that it *looked* like nothing much was going on made it feel surreal.

Fusand’s mind raced to categorize everything they’d just seen. The tightly flowing movements had looked almost like their master was doing a choreographed dance rather than engaging in a fight. His fingers twitched with the urge to take notes on his thoughts, but he didn’t dare move to take his eyes off.

A sphere of pulsing light manifested near the woman’s face again that made her flinch. The monotone voice she took a moment to lecture with carried clearly to her disciples across the distance. Though it was her Projection wielding protege that she intended the words for.

"See how much simpler this is as a distraction? Just a quick pulse of intent rather than maintaining a complex shape."

Robbing their sight by convincing their spirit it was perfectly dark was the ’best’ way she knew, but as simple as that sounds it required a lot more conceptual capability on the part of the practitioner than this particular method. Bright light also did half of its own work - making their subconscious ’flinch’ just as much as their physical reaction. It was more ’believable’ than sudden darkness, which meant their psyche fought back less.

"Now then, shall we discuss where the birds you stole were moved?"

Neither of the captured thieves responded immediately. The crossbowman on the ridge especially remained perfectly still, as if hoping to fade into the background and be forgotten. Elua’s grip didn’t tighten much, but both of the attackers visibly winced at the threat they were currently helpless to address.

"I believe I asked you a simple question."

Much like Anper at her wedding, they found themselves unable to move like they wanted. The man found his voice first, though it came out strained.

"They’re already long gone. A different group took them at dawn and-"

"Don’t."

The single word carried more intent than her previous statements. Fresh spiritual pressure bore down on the Enchanter and made his knees buckle into the stones at his feet. His breath came shallow as whatever nightmare he’d just experienced still lingered in his psyche.

The heiress lazily tossed away his wrist, realizing he wouldn’t be of use.

"I spent enough time watching you hastily clean up camp to know better. Your employer’s crude attempt at misdirection and delaying tactics might have worked on the event staff guards, but I could still sense-"

She cut off speaking to the woman as something caught her attention. Her head tilted slightly, listless mint eyes somehow gaining ’distance’. A faint smile touched her lips that *quickly* faded. She stepped and grabbed the second wrist of the woman.

"Ah. Never mind. I believe I’ve found them... as well as what you did to prevent losing them."

The woman’s face drained of color. It didn’t take the smartest cultivator to understand that spirit energy was the cause of this situation. An Enchanter shouldn’t be able to sense anything that far beyond the ridge. Then again, neither would they be able to lock down two others at once.

’But can a Primalist... really sense that far?’

"Which means you’ve now just been nothing but a complete waste of my time."

The scholarly teenager noticed their first fallen opponent starting to stir, but when he looked he missed whatever the heiress had done. The green eyed girl saw it all... the taller lady being pulled down towards the brunette and *headbutted*... her eyes rolling back as she bonelessly started to fall in a heap.

A heap that was pushed past the ducking ancient cultivator by a gust of ’wind’ to land on the... *probably* momentarily broken man. It wasn’t like she picked his trauma, just stimulated it a bit. In a little ’quicker’ way than she once did to Dima.

"It goes without saying that we should also discuss exactly how much trouble *you* are in."

Elua called out as she turned and looked up the ridge. Her voice had somehow grown even colder despite not changing inflection.

"Starting with why you thought aiming a death dealing device at my things was acceptable."

The crossbowman curled his shoulders in, trying not to acknowledge the pack of snarling brown wolves... he thought he saw surrounding him. He knew it was impossible.

But he could feel their breath, smell their musk, and hear their growls and snaps. All of them had unnatural glowing mint eyes and were overall too big by far. And while he wasn’t bleeding from it, the one that had nipped at him when they first appeared left a lingering pain in his hand.

They didn’t have to be real to be terrifying. He didn’t have to understand to ’understand’. If the devil they encountered wanted him to feel more pain, he would. But for now, she held it at frightening them... as Qat might not approve of going further than she needed to.

’And what is it... that I *need* to do?’

Something dark flickered across her face as she stalked toward the one who had first so willingly attacked her when she moved forward. She’d had time to process what she sensed from the four bird’s conditions. For a moment, the two orphan teens caught a glimpse of what lurked beneath.

Her usual facades - both the sweet girl she wanted to become in this life and the controlled monotone she turned herself into in the last - always sat over a number of ancient furies. When it came to birds and cruelty, she had more clear lines than most people might. The clan of tribespeople that taught her their ways had instilled that.

"I see that you damaged their wings to prevent losing your prizes. How... methodical."

The word dripped with centuries of venom in the intent that splashed out. Her face was mostly still unemotional, but her eyes had gone so far past dull to reflect almost too much light. The mint disappeared into portals that reflected the surroundings like perfect mirrors.

"You know, I keep a companion like those you’ve maimed."

’And I kept one very different from him for longer than any of you have lived.’

"Tell me - did they cry out when you broke them?"

’Like the flights did when that Guild set fire to their blocked aviaries. Unable to escape the flame and smoke. It’s amusing. Such *expedience* is often cruel, at times like that. Yet, it’s a mercy to humans when they think of death being done quickly.’

Spiritual pressure built on the riverbed until even Nohre and Fusand felt it pressing against their senses.

"Tell me... do you deserve the mercy or the breaking?"

The man tried to speak but only managed a choked sound.

"Master!"

Fusand’s concerned voice snapped something back into place. Her eyes returned to dull mint once again and the awkward snarl smoothed back into a neutral flat line. The pressure eased in the surroundings, but there was a phantom feeling that it waited only on the flip of a coin.

Or the whim of an heiress.

"Forgive me. I’m usually better at maintaining perspective. My love would likely be quite disappointed if I solved this... permanently."

Elua was simultaneously sure that was the case and scared that their relationship would survive even if she slipped. Especially if she picked ’good reasons’ to explain herself. It was the sort of free pass she didn’t want. Because nothing was more tempting or more expensive than ’free’.

She turned her attention back to her captives.

"Now then. You’re going to wait here and think about who scares you more. Me, or who hired you. After that, we can discuss things... a little more."

The brunette took in a deep slow breath.

"Come."

Elua er Goltbred’s lecturing voice rippled across the dry riverbed as she faced toward her disciples. Nohre and Fusand exchanged a glance before stepping over the pole she’d laid down. Their steps were deliberate but not as fearful as one might expect when they approached.

"You’re both processing rather well."

A hint of approval touched her monotone. Her eyes had returned to their usual mint, though something unsettling still lingered in their depths.

"They’re... still alive."

She noted how even the two most physically damaged were still breathing easily enough. The observation from the inexperienced Mend practitioner carried ’relief’ and ’wonder’. Especially for the one that was hit in the head.

’I can’t believe that wasn’t enough to put someone down. It looked so... final.’

The crossbowman remained trapped in his illusory nightmare, facing wolves that the disciples had never seen in the first place. There was a slim chance he might run away, but the Goltbred didn’t think it was likely.

"Yes, they are fine for now. Though I suspect they’ll wish otherwise when their employer learns of their failures."

’Or if mother and father were to learn that they raised weapons against me. It’s funny to think that they’d do much the same as I would to anyone that attacked Qat. Burn the root of the weed~’

She began walking toward where she’d sensed the ’injured captives’ that she came to rescue. Her pace was not particularly hurried, as rushing forward might just agitate her emotions again. The orphans fell into step behind her, both still wanting to cast glances back at the fable-like scene they were leaving.

"It will take time to understand everything you witnessed today. Not just the techniques. Just remember what you saw as best you can."

Her voice grew thoughtful, as if considering how to phrase her next words.

"The stories say that the most dangerous thing about the ancient cultivators was not their power, but their choices. What their experiences made them willing to do with it."

It was as close as she was willing to get to admitting her identity. The decisive use of power she just showed was impressive, but not enough to call a lesson on its own. But thinking about things surrounding it...

"So keep in mind the question. Are you willing to go that far? Why? Why not? The answers are inside you... and they will change with age. Circumstance. No individual, then or now, can be so easily summed up with an unchanging certainty."

Without slowing, she bent over and grabbed up the short sword she’d knocked away. The extremely experienced cultivator tested its balance and other factors with a few small swings before nodding.

"Why everyone is *not* like that now. Why they *were* before. There is value in examining everything from multiple perspectives, my friends. So-"

"Can we perhaps go back and talk about being ’your things’?"

"No, thank you."

The brunette increased her pace a little, looking to ’escape’.

’There were subtler ways to get me to stop talking, surely!’