The night hung silent, heavy with the hum of distant insects and the faint hiss of torches burning along the camp's wooden walls. Halo crouched low in the tall grass, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword, a weapon so sharp it cut the air when drawn too fast. His eyes, glowing faintly under the moonlight, tracked every slaver's step. He waited. Patient as a stone. Watching. Listening. Hours passed before one slaver peeled off from the group, muttering as he stumbled toward the outer trees, likely to relieve himself. Halo followed, silent as falling dust. When the man stopped, Halo struck. His hand snapped over the slaver's mouth, his sword sliding clean through his neck in a single pull. The blade left no sound, only a wet whisper as the body sagged to the ground. Halo held him until the twitching stopped, lowering him carefully onto the grass. He stripped the corpse of everything: the mask, the filthy cloak, the iron key ring. He even smeared his own face with dirt and ash to dull the faint glow in his eyes. "Sleep well," Halo murmured quietly, dragging the body into the dark. "Your silence will save others." Then he walked toward the gate, his stolen mask hiding the blood still drying on his fingers. The guards barely looked at him. One yawned. Another laughed about their shift being almost over. Halo moved among them like a ghost pretending to breathe. But trouble came when he reached the inner camp. A tall man with a trimmed beard and sharper eyes stepped out of a tent, the senior slaver. "You," he barked. "Where's your post tonight? Don't recall seeing you before." Halo bowed his head just enough to look submissive. "Rotation from the eastern ridge, sir. Captain sent me down after sunset. Said you signed off on it." The slaver frowned, stepping closer. "Did I?" His voice curled. "What's your name?" Without hesitation, Halo replied, "Doesn't matter if you've forgotten, sir. If you'd like, I can fetch the captain to remind you of your own orders." The slaver's expression darkened, then cracked into a smug grin. "Heh. Got a mouth on you. Fine. Get on with it, boss doesn't like idle talk." Halo gave a short nod and continued toward the tunnel. The air grew colder the deeper he went. The sound of dripping water mixed with the faint rattle of chains, the low murmurs of suffering. Lanterns flickered along the stone walls, their light revealing thin, shackled figures, hundreds of them. Maybe thousands. Halo's jaw tightened. And then, from the darkness ahead, came a voice. Deep. Calm. Dangerous. "Well now…" it said, the sound of boots crunching on gravel echoing closer. "You're not one of mine." A man stepped forward, broad-shouldered, scarred, his eyes like coals that hadn't cooled in years. The boss of the camp. Halo's hand slid to his sword hilt. And the tunnel went silent. The man reached behind his waist and uncoiled a whip, the leather snapping sharply as it touched the air. "So… you mind telling me who you are?" he asked, smirking. Halo said nothing. "Well," the slaver sneered, "if you're not going to answer, I'll have to use force. I don't recommend it." He cracked the whip against the ground, the impact shattered the stone beneath his feet. Halo pushed the children behind him. "You need to stay behind me," he said firmly. "Go to the next room and free the others. Use the key." The kids nodded and sprinted off, clutching the key with trembling hands. Halo turned back to the man, his gaze cold. Slowly, he removed the stolen mask and unsheathed his sword, pointing it straight at his opponent. "I'll kill you," he said quietly, "and I'll make it quick." The man grinned. "You're pretty young. Shame, I was just starting to like that face." He swung the whip again, faster this time, slicing the air with brute force. Halo exhaled, shifting into stance, mana spreading across his blade in a thin, vibrating sheen of energy. The slaver struck first, a vicious horizontal sweep. Halo ducked and grabbed the whip mid-swing. The man's eyes widened in disbelief. "Argh! Let go!" he shouted, pulling back, but Halo's grip didn't budge. The slaver snarled and drew a second whip with his other hand. "Feel smart now?!" He lashed again, Halo barely dodged the strike, then surged forward. His sword flashed once, and both whips split clean in half. The man roared, charging head-on. He raised his mana-coated arm to block Halo's next slash. The blade met flesh and mana, sparks flying. He caught Halo by the head with both hands and drove a brutal headbutt into his face. Halo stumbled back, dazed but not defeated. Blood dripped from his nose. The slaver laughed, flexing his fists. "Let me show you something, kid!" Mana erupted from his body, jagged, wild, electric. "THIS IS MY ELECTRO FIST!" he bellowed, and lunged forward, each punch crackling with lightning. Halo weaved through the barrage, dodging every strike by inches until one came for his ribs, a left hook. He parried it, pivoted, and shouted, "Horizontal Slash!" His sword tore across the man's chest, carving a deep line of blood. The slaver grunted but pressed on, swinging a wild uppercut. Halo reacted instantly, slicing downward, severing the man's forearm clean off. The slaver screamed, clutching his bleeding stump, then grabbed his own severed arm and, with madness in his eyes, infused it with mana. He swung it like a club, smashing Halo into the ground. He mounted him, slamming the bloody limb again and again. One final strike cracked Halo's nose. The slaver's eyes burned with fury. "Why?! Why isn't it working?! Why isn't my electricity hurting you?!" Halo's breathing steadied as realization struck. It was the Thunder Gem. the gem he'd unknowingly touched earlier. It was nullifying all electric damage. A grin crept across his bloodied face. "Because," he said, voice low and steady, "your specialty doesn't work on the wielder of the Thunder Gem." Halo's hand lit with mana, his aura tightening to a single deadly point. In an instant, his open palm shot forward, faster than sight, plunging straight into the man's chest. His fingers pierced through bone and heart alike. The slaver coughed blood all over Halo's face. "Damn you… caught me off guard…" he muttered before collapsing lifelessly on top of him. Halo shoved the corpse aside, gasping for breath. His back ached. His chest burned. Blood poured from his broken nose as he cracked it back into place with a wince. Then, standing once more, he wiped his blade clean and headed towards the next rooms seeing families reunite along with tears of joy. As he watched tears streak down their faces, relief finally replacing terror, he felt something unfamiliar stir inside him. Is this what it feels like to take the first step toward true righteousness? It was warm… almost soft, like a drifting dandelion seed settling in his chest. He smiled faintly. Father… maybe you were right to push me onto this path beside Helios. Guiding the freed captives through a branching tunnel, Halo led them out into open air, rolling grasslands untouched by smoke or chains. He gathered them together and took them to a hidden cave he had scouted earlier, a temporary shelter until help arrived. When they reached safety, Halo unsheathed his sword and handed it to one of the survivors. "I trust you with this," he said firmly. "Protect them. When I return, I'll take it back, understood?" The man gripped the blade with shaking hands but nodded with fierce conviction.
"I'll protect them with my life." With one last look at the people he had saved, Halo turned and sprinted toward Sanctus, toward the inn where Helios and Bow would be waiting.