(17/02/24 - 10:10) (Wednesday February 17, 1524)
Silas sat at his polished wooden desk in the main reception area. He dipped a quill into an inkwell and wrote a line of text onto a piece of parchment.
A figure stepped out from the deep shadows near the entrance. Vipera wore a dark cloak and kept her hands resting lightly on the hilts of her dual daggers.
Silas looked up from his parchment. He gave a short nod.
"What are you doing here?" Silas asked.
"Don Valerius is preparing to depart to the New World," Vipera stated. "He wants the Wedding Gift to be ready."
Silas set his quill down. He pulled open the bottom drawer of his desk and retrieved a small, securely closed wooden crate. He handed the crate to the woman.
"It is here," Silas said.
Vipera grabbed the small crate with her left hand. She turned her body toward the exit to leave.
"The black man who just walked in could barely suppress his disgust towards you." Vipera noted, looking over her shoulder.
Silas smiled.
"I know," Silas replied. "That is why I left a good surprise for our esteemed guest."
Vipera stepped forward and disappeared entirely into the shadows of the compound.
(17/02/24 - 10:18)
Uma stepped out of the cell. He pulled the heavy iron door shut, sealing the children safely inside the room.
He turned around. Four men stood blocking the narrow, dimly lit hallway. They gripped drawn cutlasses and heavy iron pipes. They formed a solid wall of muscle and steel, waiting in complete silence.
Uma's blood was boiling in his body. He possessed zero patience for a prolonged fight. He channeled his raw strength directly into his legs.
He kicked the ground ten times in a fraction of a second. The resulting sonic boom shattered the silence of the stone corridor. The compressed oxygen propelled him forward with terrifying speed.
He reappeared directly in front of the four guards before they could swing their weapons. He unleashed a sequence of brutal, devastating punches. He drove his fists straight into the center of their chests.
The impacts shattered their sternums and caved in their ribcages. Splintered bone punctured their lungs and hearts instantly. The four men dropped their weapons, their eyes bulging from the sudden, extreme agony. They collapsed onto the damp stone floor, choking on massive internal bleeding. They died within seconds.
Uma stepped over the bleeding bodies. He kept his eyes locked straight ahead, walking down the long corridor to find Silas.
(17/02/24 - 10:19) (Wednesday February 17, 1524)
Uma walked to the end of the dimly lit hallway. He stood before the heavy wooden double doors leading back to the main reception area. He raised his right leg and drove his boot directly into the center of the wood. The doors shattered off their iron hinges and crashed onto the polished stone floor.
He stepped into the room.
Silas stood behind his desk. The slaver pushed his chair back and stood up. He looked at the shattered doors and the blood staining Uma's knuckles. Silas offered a cold, predatory smile. He reached down to his hip and uncoiled a long, heavy chain-whip. A spiked iron ball rested at the tip of the dark metal links.
"You killed my guide and my guards," Silas stated, letting the chain drop to the floor. "You possess terrible manners for a guest."
Uma kept his eyes locked on the slaver. He felt the phantom weight of the iron collar around his neck. The rage in his chest stabilized into a cold, absolute focus.
Silas snapped his wrist. The heavy chain-whip cracked through the air.
Uma leaned to the side. The spiked iron ball missed his head by an inch. The weapon slammed into the stone wall behind him, blasting a crater into the solid rock. Silas retracted the chain instantly. He moved with the practiced speed of a medium pirate, launching a second strike aimed at Uma's legs.
Uma kicked the air. The sonic boom propelled him upward, dodging the low sweep. He landed on top of a stone pillar.
Silas whipped his arm upward. The chain tore through the air and wrapped around the stone pillar. Silas yanked his arm back. The weighted chain crushed the stone, bringing the entire pillar crashing down.
Uma dropped to the floor. He rushed forward to close the distance.
Silas stepped back, utilizing the length of his weapon to maintain absolute control of the spatial gap. He unleashed a flurry of horizontal and vertical slashes. The chain-whip became a blur of dark metal. The iron weight tore through the reception area. It shredded the wooden desk, shattered the remaining pillars, and ripped the tapestries from the walls. Debris filled the air.
Uma navigated the chaotic storm of debris. A horizontal slash caught him across the chest. The iron spikes tore through his canvas shirt and ripped a deep gash across his pectoral muscles. Warm blood spilled down his stomach.
He ignored the wound. He continued his advance.
Silas realized his opponent possessed a high durability. The slaver shifted his stance, channeling his full physical power into the weapon. He swung the chain in a continuous, high-speed figure-eight pattern. He created a literal wall of tearing iron between himself and Uma.
"You are just a brute!" Silas shouted, his composure slipping slightly. "I will flay the meat from your bones!"
Uma stopped dodging.
He stepped directly into the storm of iron.
The chain-whip struck his left shoulder, tearing a chunk of flesh away. Uma kept walking. The spiked ball whipped across his right thigh, opening a long, bleeding laceration. Uma took another step. The heavy chain lashed across his face, splitting his cheek open and sending a spray of blood into the air.
He walked steadily forward. He did not falter. His focused face had a mask of pure, homicidal fury. Countless cuts opened across his arms, his chest, and his legs. Dark red blood sprayed from his body with every step, painting the ruined stone floor. He looked exactly like a demon emerging from a slaughterhouse. His raw strength and his underlying growth sustained his advance entirely. He simply accepted the superficial damage to cross the final few meters.
Silas watched the blood-soaked monster walk through his absolute defense. Pure terror replaced the arrogance in the slaver's eyes. Silas panicked. He pulled his arm back for a desperate, final strike aimed directly at Uma's skull.
Uma closed the distance. He stepped inside the guard.
He planted his left foot and twisted his torso, generating massive torque. He delivered a devastating right hook directly into Silas's side ribs.
CRACK.
The entire ribcage collapsed inward under the massive impact. Silas spewed a fountain of blood from his mouth. His eyes rolled back. His feet lifted off the ground as the kinetic force sent him flying sideways into the remnants of the stone wall.
The slaver slumped to the floor, dropping the chain-whip.
Uma walked over to the crippled man. He grabbed Silas by the collar of his expensive coat and hauled him upright.
Uma pulled his fist back. He drove a punch straight into Silas's face, shattering the slaver's nose and jaw. He dropped his grip, letting Silas fall. As the man fell, Uma drove his heavy leather boot into Silas's right knee, inverting the joint with a sickening pop. He stomped on Silas's left arm, snapping the radius and ulna in half.
He worked with brutal, methodical precision. He moved from limb to limb. He crushed the collarbones. He shattered the femurs. He pulverized the elbows and the wrists. He reduced the head of the slaver ring to a twitching, broken mass of flesh and splintered bone.
Uma stepped back. Silas lay on the blood-soaked stone, completely paralyzed, gasping wetly through his ruined jaw. He remained alive, but he would never move a single muscle again.
----
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