Blinded by the anger, Derek charged at her with no regard for his safety. He was always quick to temper when his friends were in danger. Lovell had always reprimanded him for it because he viewed it as an easy way for trouble to find them. A fact that Derek was never bothered by.
"'Rather than blindly charging towards a superior enemy, you would have done better for yourself if you had used that opportunity to run.'
"'SHUTUP!! How dare y-..."'
Before he could finish his words, her hand was already grabbing his face. Derek's eyes were widened by her speed, and what followed was that he was pressed down. The floor beneath him formed a web of cracks. Having been pressed with such force, his internal organs were injured, and the blood started rising from within him. His face contorted as he was about to vomit, but he was met with obstruction. The Dreadborn placed her palm on his mouth and covered the blood's exit.
"The staff is off on vacation, so there isn't anyone present to clean up after your mess.
...Swallow it."
Derek struggled to free himself from her grasp, but how could he fight against a Dreadborn and hope to win against one in a battle of strength? A small portion of the blood flowed out of the small gaps he had tried to create in her hand. When a drop fell from his cheek and landed on the ground, the Dreadborn was not amused. Her aloof beauty was initially enchanting to Derek, but now he found it unsettling.
She lifted him from the floor and began winding up. Derek was not exactly sure how fast he was thrown, but his surroundings were all turned blurry. The wind whistled past him, and from the wall that greeted him, a sound akin to clapping was heard. When his feet reached the ground, he had no strength left to support him and simply buckled to his knees, then his body fell back, and he lost consciousness.
The last thing he could remember was the sound of light steps followed by laboured breathing.
...
Lovell was woken by a clapping sound that sounded a little muffled. His eyes slowly opened, revealing to him the debris he was now sleeping. He started breathing heavily as the pain started to flood his mind. He coughed violently as the blood in his lungs was being forced out. He eventually managed to crawl himself out of the pile of rocks and take a better look at his surroundings.
Before him stood a wide room with various tools and weapons aligned meticulously on the walls of the room.
"'What is this? ... Is this supposed to be the weapons storage? Training room? Ah, my head hurts. What happened to... Derek!! Where is Derek?"'
Alarmed by the prospect of leaving his friend alone with the Dreadborn, Lovell quickly threw a glance at the hole he had just created. The dust was settling, and he saw no one standing there waiting for him. The silence coming from the corridor he was thrown from only seemed to intensify his worry.
" Don't tell me that fool is already done for."
Anxious to know what had happened, Lovell strenuously ran to the weapons plastered on the walls of the room. He was not in a position to give the choice of weapon much thought, so he grabbed what he could as quickly as he could. Resting in his hands was a pair of silver daggers. He gripped them tightly and ran for the hole in the wall.
There was no sound in the corridor, but what he saw spoke volumes. Standing in front of him was the Dreadborn. She had her arms crossed behind her back and looked at him with an indifferent expression. Lying out behind her was Derek, who was out cold and bloodstained. When Lovell saw this, he was enraged. His gaze grew sharp; another pair of daggers was in his possession and were already aimed at her.
"Good... Unlike the last one, you seem to be capable of composing yourself. Sometimes it is better not to attack than to attack blindly. This is especially true when going against a strong foe."
Lovell took the opportunity to size her up as she prattled on. He looked at her clothes and her expression. Her breath and her eyes. Although she had suffered no damage and was more than likely still stronger than them, something was clear to him.
She is about to hit her limit.
Without entertaining her nonsense any longer, Lovell threw one dagger at her and forced her to retreat from Derek. She moved to her right and avoided the dagger, and was met with a thrust from Lovell. She jumped from her position and flew above Lovell's head. She landed safely without any follow-up and looked behind her. Lovell was making sure Derek was still alive.
He has lost a lot of blood, and a few bones seem to be broken. Other than that, he seems okay.
After making sure that Derek was not in any mortal danger. Lovell refocused his attention on the Dreadborn.
"We'd best finish this as quickly as possible. My quest for a quiet vacation has been disrupted enough as it is."
As much as he wanted to drag the fight on and exhaust her stamina, then finish her off, he knew better. Although it seemed as if he had an advantage that he could exploit, the truth was far from so. The commotion their group had caused had surely already reached the ears of the local protection forces. The corner of the Kingdom of Gravia may have been lacking in most aspects, but all territories in the world had one common feature: strong security.
It had to be so, otherwise the Horrors would eradicate what remains of humanity. The knights stationed in this region were surely already on their way. Lovell saw that his window of opportunity was shrinking and decided to put his maximum efforts towards escaping. He looked around the room and found the object that his plans depended upon.
His gaze then shifted back to the Dreadborn and proceeded to charge towards her. She met his charge with one of her own. Lovell planted his feet and swung his dagger down at her head. She swatted his hand away and thrust her fist towards his chest. Right before her fist landed, Lovell spat in her eyes. The bloody liquid that was plastered on her eyes froze her movements, allowing Lovell to slip past her and run for the object.
"Bet you never seen that before, rich lady."
"AAHHHHH!!"
Her screams allowed Lovell to relieve some of the resentment he had grown to have for her during their quarrel. His hand reached and grabbed the object; he looked through it swiftly. After finding what he was looking for, he looked back at the Dreadborn, who now had her eyes open. Although there was a faint red outline around her eyes, she had already eradicated the vile gel.
Her disgust and anger had also been amplified, and now she was determined not to leave the thief be. Especially the shorter one who had crossed a line he shouldn't have. Never before had she suffered such an indignity. Never before had she seethed with such emotion. She could not accept it. She could not let him be. She had to enact justice for herself, in whatever form. A red aura erupted from her body that changed the lighting of the corridor.
The black blood-like substance only flowed with vigour at her actions, but it seems she no longer cared.
Noticing the change in his opponent's aura only pushed Lovell to finish his preparation more quickly. Derek's unconscious body was held up by the arm Lovell had wrapped around his shoulders. He took a glance at the Dreadborn and saw her get into a crouching stance. She was preparing to launch herself at them. Her anger was boiling her aura; it then began to burn the corridor. Lovell knew instantly that any further form of conflict was just going to hasten his death.
Seeing her anger at him, Lovell couldn't help but smile. It was justified. She had hurt his friend and hurt him as well. What was she expecting? Although he was famously known among his thieves' brigade as being a sinister schemer, he always saw his actions as justified. He may not have always gotten even with others, but he would be satisfied taking his pound of flesh.
Even the wealthy people whom he schemed against they tended to be scum who were involved in all sorts of filth that most people
"It's a shame, I really would have liked to take a larger pound of flesh, but I suppose I will be satisfied knowing I gave you a little present."
He threw an object he drew from his bag, and in the next moment, the corridor was filled with smoke.