Chapter fifty two
The look on his face was nothing but pure shock as he gawked at this blind man he began to fear since he set his eyes on him. Deep red blood drooled out of his mouth and down his jaw. Soon he began to choke on it…just before Vizal released him to the floor.
But before Ozii had the chance to take this the wrong way, he faced him. "I get paid to wipe out the mistakes in the form of people living on Earth. I don't go about tearing down innocent homes and towns to build a beautiful galaxy that God never asked us to. So before you go about thinking I'm a maniac like you are, let me make it clear to you that I am nothing like you!"
And for the very first time that day, the thunder djinn stopped smiling and was truly offended. Looking down at the old man, his beautiful face twisted in anger and he snarled. "I remember having soared your life when you came to me pleading for vengeance for your family! I spared you not because you were a blind, pitiful human then…but because you respected me, Vizal! Then when I made you what you are now, you suddenly feel you're greater than I because of some sick facade of goodness? Do not forget I turned you…I made you!"
The last words came out more as a shriek than he expected. But all the while, the old man stood still, quiet, seething. And when he understood some things could never change, he shook his head and walked past. "I don't want to see you in my house ever in your forsaken life again. And I'd advise you heed to that warning."
***
It was a fun show to be honest. And as King, he received the best seat from which he had a very spectacular view. Oh he almost pitied the boss when he returned to find his wrecked up tavern. That was a lie…it served him right.
His own allies had excited smirks on their faces while they took in the beautiful mess the young boy had made with the sin shell.
Even Razia had something like a smile on her face that did things to his heart.
And for the other less good looking, more mortal and certainly distasteful team, he heard roars from all the men. Angry, disappointed growls that arose from watching their fellow men get beaten up by a young teenager. Even the lasses who'd run away were now poking their heads through the doorway, seemingly enjoying the show as well.
With a glass of wine whirling in his hand, Abraham Tonnel had his blue striking eyes proudly on his little cousin.
The noise was exhilarating…but it made him smile.
Ramiel John rarely…never smiled outside the circle of his mother and Abraham. And even now, as he caused low rumbles in the ground and broke out giant pieces off the brick walls, he had a certain look in his forest green eyes like fighting these men was an insult to his very immortality.
The bartender had not lasted half a minute fighting alone with the boy before he began to receive help from a few others around. Which did not make much of a difference, to be honest.
Ramiel could stamp a foot and send a gully spreading open beneath them. Only that they crossed it before they were buried in it. Now, not less than a dozen men gripped weapons and spread about, surrounding him…making sure to mind the endless holes and cracks randomly made around.
Either way, that wasn't the only way he could attack, was it? The fragments from broken rocks littered in pebbles on the ground; and suddenly the men around began to gawk as every bit of them levitated into the air like feathers that floated.
But all the while, of course they knew it was the kid behind it. And now the bartender had begun to wish he'd chosen the lady in the manly attire instead.
Abraham sipped from his cup and focused on the fight again. This part seemed to be one he'd like.
Jeremy looked like he'd seen a ghost. Who in the world would walk into this sin she'll now and guess the entire collapse was caused by a teenager using his mind and feet? Now all eyes watched expectantly at the pebbles of stones that rose until they stopped midway.
What was next?
Ramiel liked through his helpless opponents one more time before he suddenly jabbed a fist into the air before him. And with the motion came the propelling of the floating stones towards every single one of them.
Enough to go round several times.
A handful began to take shelter behind the tables from the storm of rock fragments that continuously surged at them. While the unlucky ones got stoned with a frequency too high they couldn't think of an escape.
Razia stifled a chuckle at the scene that made Ramon think he was suddenly seeing upside down. He never knew she could laugh!
It was not until the bartender raised a white piece of cloth that Ramiel paused the stone storm and sent a questioning glance at Abraham. The King was still busy finishing the last of his Italian Scotch before he placed down the glass and looked at the man.
"Do you finally acknowledge you're nothing compared to a fifteen year old boy?"
The man was gasping with difficulty while on his fours. As he struggled with the question, wondering which to choose between his life and his ego, he scaled his eyes through the set of immortals, obviously hating the King the most of all.
For a while, he glared without an answer. Until, gnashing his teeth with a groan, he bit the words out. "Yes, I agree."
"Now, for the main reason I'm here…" continued the djinn with narrowed eyes, "…where is my brother?"
When he tried to make words, it was just more gasps. The bartender creased his forehead in a frustrated frown and replied. "I do not know where they have taken him."
The sound of a sword being slipped out from its sheath reached his ear. And even without turning, Abraham knew it was no one other than Jeremy.
But of course he had plans to stop him from tearing this man to half. Not that he cared or anything…he'd just prefer more chunks to be made out of his body than just two.
However, there was still someone in the team who wasn't completely bloodthirsty…yet. Leaning by the doorway as some sort or guard was the Priest. Even after having watched in silence all along, sone divine force seemed to have just ministered to him that Priests were not supposed to take joy in the suffering of humans like he was. "That would mean whoever owns this place is behind this. I say it's best we keep him alive…only way he's going to lead us to Martin."
"I…" the bartender stammered with a slight tone of fear, "…I truly do not know where they took him. A couple nights ago, a wealthy, fine lad dropped by and offered the sire five hundred pieces of silver to kill your brother."