Michael and Lady Farren turned around and saw a debonair young man with short, pepper hair on the other end of the hallway. His suave deanor fit perfectly with the quaint, victorian era of the hallway as if he had co from that ti exactly.
The man held himself in high regard, sauntering over towards them with a pep in his step, oozing ostentatious confidence with a lot of swagger.
"Keep behind , Lyra. Is he the one who took you?" Lady Farren asked, her Compound Bow already drawn and halfway into a shot.
Lyra nodded.
Imdiately, the mithril bow creaked as Farren's Dao Heart empowered the arrow, flying towards the debonair young man with the solemn and stately aura of the gargantuan Acacia trees.
But just as it was about to hit the young man's chest, his hands blurred and caught the arrow in its fletching.
"Wow… I would have never thought you guys had two Mithril Compound Bows. You could have shared that with us, and none of this would have happened."
"Who are you?! Why have you done this?!" Lady Farren questioned.
Green energy seeped out of her chest, her Aubility Power connecting to the arrow in the debonair young man's hands.
Tree roots manifested on the arrow's shaft, snaking around the young man's hands and his chest, restraining his upper body within less then a second.
At the sa ti, Lady Farren shot another arrow, this ti aid straight at his forehead.
But despite this perilous predicant, the debonair young man simply shook his head with mirth.
"Haha, where are my manners? You show your powers, it's only apt for to show mine. I wouldn't want to be seen as uncouth by my new friends."
The dashing young man raised his head, briefly closing his eyes, before a blinding red light burst out of his eyelids.
A flaming golem made out of cyclopean igneous rocks appeared above the debonair young man, its appearance fully ford and almost tangible.
He was, at the very least, a 9th stage Body Formation Maugnetic.
Soon, the roots fettering his hands started to smoke, a fire burning it from the inside and out till it was nothing but scattering ash. Within a few seconds, the debonair young man was freed from his restraints, allowing him to easily catch and break the arrow in an instant.
"That weapon is truly remarkable. Such a pristine work of art. Would you be so kind as to tell where you found that? No? Well, at least tell how you found our stronghold. I was pretty proud of my location this ti around. That pretty warrior of yours back there doesn't have the wherewithal to locate us, that's for sure."
Lady Farren kept Lyra close behind her. Slowly, the realization of helplessness was creeping into her face. She couldn't defeat this human, especially not when she was protecting Lyra at the sa ti.
Just then, Michael turned towards her.
"Both of you escape. I'll deal with him."
Both Elves looked at him with concern. But he reassured them with a smile and a wink. "It's fine. I'm pretty strong myself."
Just as Lady Farren was about to say sothing, Lyra tugged on her sleeve. "...I believe in him."
Farren's eyes widened. Lyra was not the type to 'believe' in soone. Her whole life trained her not to.
The little Elven girl then pointed to the phone in her hands. "He got my ssage… I believe in him."
And in that mont, the debonair man coughed and stole the mont.
"Ahem, not to intrude on your conversation, but who said anything about escaping? I'm afraid I'm going to have to keep you all in this place for a little while longer. I need to know everything you know."
He raised his hand, the infernal golem behind him imitating his movents.
For a brief mont, nothing happened.
But suddenly, Michael lunged at Lady Farren and pushed her away into the wall.
And in the next mont, the patch of ground where she stood suddenly lted into a puddle of seething magma.
If he hadn't acted fast enough, Lady Farren would have burned from the inside and out.
[Debonair Young Man]
[9th stage Body Formation realm]
[Talent: Artificial Heat]
[Aubility Power: The user gains control over the concept of heat transfer, allowing him to imbue everything he targets with a realty-defying change in temperature.]
[Artifice detected]
"Interesting," the Debonair Young Man nodded. "Most people get caught off-guard by my attacks the first ti they see it. But you saw it instantly. It seems that I've underestimated you, little child. Let properly introduce myself: People call Platinum. That's not really my na, but a title I've achieved through blood, sweat, and tears. So you'll forgive if I ask for my due respect."
Platinum bowed to Michael, paying him obeisance. "Now, would you kindly tell your na?"
Michael ignored him and instead gestured for Lady Farren and Lyra to escape. "Go. I'll take care of him."
Lady Farren looked towards the hallway where Platinum stood inexorably. That was the only exit, yet Michael still implored them to escape.
She looked at him askance, unsure of his plan.
But he just nodded at them and said, "Trust ."
The little Lyra peeked out from Lady Farren's back, gazing at the end of the Victorian hallway. Platinum returned her stare, giving her a smile.
Unpleasant mories flashed through her mind, taking her back to the mont when he and multiple hooded figures wrenched the Compound Bow from her hands. She struggled, forcing them to take her with the weapon.
They placed her in desolate isolation, filling her with dreary thoughts and hopeless despair.
Yet despite those emotions threatening to flare up back in her mind, Lyra looked back at Michael.
And with a determined nod, she wrestled herself out of Lyra's grasp and took off running into the hallway just as he said.
Lady Farren, forced into action, took off running after the little Elven girl.
With their footfalls echoing in the hallway, both Elves were just re monts away from heading straight into Platinum's open arms.
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