Everett Brown - Aspect of Iron
Rhett belched loudly as he walked up to Tyler, a full head and a half taller than him and at least twice as wide. The man’s aura hung loose around him with power equivalent to Lisa’s, and a trio of metal sheets hovered around him in a slow circle. A half-dozen guys of more average builds trailed behind him, all around Tyler’s age and absolutely drunk out of their minds.
“Yoooooo,” Rhett half-spoke-half-sang, dragging out the word like he was relishing the moment. “Now what do we have here?”
Thanks to his Journeyman senses, Tyler could smell the alcohol as soon as they got within ten feet of him. Each waft of air from these guys stunk of vomit and dehydration, and the loopy, power-tripping grins on their faces brought back memories that he would much rather avoid.
They’d probably been up all night drinking.
The guy’s lackeys sniggered, and one of them walked up to him, poking him in the ribs. “The hero of the day. Tyler Thorn, who took down a skeleton general with nothing but his own two hands.”
Another round of laughs.
John Rhys — Aspect of Fire
Tyler stared blankly at the man. This was probably a High-Novice — just one step below that fire mage that he’d fought the skeletal bat with. He had some scars on his hands, and a knife on his belt that looked worn with use. How could someone survive months in this world and still act like that?
Rhett stepped forwards, and despite probably being even drunker than his lackeys, he walked with a steady gait that betrayed some level of self-mastery. “How are you liking the 21st Branch, buddy?”
Tyler looked at him, weighing his options, before eventually responding in as even of a tone as he could. “It’s been enjoyable so far.”
Another lackey stepped up to him, the guy baring a loony smile as he cocked his head sideways. “Oh, you’re liking it, huh? Enjoy all the gifts?”
Tyler’s finger twitched. “... Yes.”
“Of course! Of course!” The man’s smile widened, and Tyler felt a slight tickle of pressure that might have been the Mid-Novice flaring his aura. “Nothing but the best for the Branch’s new Journeyman!”
Tyler stepped away from the man’s barely-contained shouting, taking in the guy’s bloodshot eyes and trembling fingers. Maybe it wasn’t just alcohol that these people happened to be hopped up on.
The lackey looked ready to advance onto Tyler again, but a clap from Rhett stopped him. “Woah, woah, guys! Let up on him. Obviously, we wouldn’t want to disrespect such a high-ranking cultivator. Isn’t that right, squirt?”
Squirt?
Tyler looked him in the eye. “What do you want?”
The big man wrapped an arm around his shoulders, and Tyler grimaced as the overpowering stench of sweat and axe body spray mixed with the alcohol in the guy’s breath. “Everyone is saying things about you, and we wanted to check for ourselves. You — this five-foot-nothing emaciated little freak — are a big strong Journeyman that can take on a skeleton general by yourself?”
“I am,” Tyler said through gritted teeth.
Rhett’s lackadaisical expression turned serious, and he brought his face close enough that Tyler could see the chunks of meat stuck in his teeth. “You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that. But little guy, let me give you a tip. If you’re gonna talk shit, then you gotta back it up.”
A hand grasped at the back of his shirt, and Tyler was yanked upwards as the entire little gang guffawed.
“Look at him! The Journeyman can’t even stay on the ground!”
“Are you gonna unleash your big bad Journeyman magic on us?”
“I heard that nobody’s seen him do any magic — he really is just an un-Awakened loser!”
“What a sad little boy, caught in the middle of a lie,” Rhett taunted. “I don’t know how you managed to convince the Branch Leader, but you can’t just talk your way into respect with us, bro. You gotta walk the walk.”
Tyler took a deep breath. The stench of liquor and machismo condescension was reminding him far too much of a memory that he’d rather avoid.
This isn’t them, though. This is just some random frat bro drunk out of his mind.
But that didn’t make it feel any better.
He looked up at the man, keeping his expression wholly neutral as he pulled his arms up, dropping out from the oversized shirt and landing with both feet on the floor. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Ohhh, he doesn’t want to hurt us!” John cackled.
Tyler swallowed hard, forcefully exhaling and taking a step away from the group of men.
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“Oops!” A short, overweight High-Novice exclaimed, extending a foot in front of him.
Tyler easily avoided it, but then another hand shoved at his back while he was on one foot. It took all of his willpower not to turn around and shatter that hand to pieces.
Instead, he flared the Flowing Sands, forcing his body into stability. On the outside, it might have looked like the shove hadn’t happened. But as he looked back, he saw the man behind him staring at him with wide eyes.
As their gazes met, he saw the guy tremble.
“Walking away?” Rhett sneered. “Sorry, bro. But I can’t let you do that quite yet.”
The man’s arms bulged, and he yanked his hands apart, tearing the large green shirt into two.
Tyler looked sadly at the falling pieces of a present given to him by the elderly mother of a woman he’d saved. His fists clenched. “Why did you do that?”
Rhett laughed and stepped back into his face. “You owe me a debt, little man. Your lies have gotten you a giant pile of valuable gifts that should have gone to me. So I had every right to do that — that shirt should have been mine.”
The smallest, youngest guy in the group squeaked out a protest. “R-Rhett, didn’t Alberta say —”
A large, sweaty palm grabbed at Tyler’s now-bare shoulder.
“Don’t touch me.”
Rhett’s eyes widened for just a moment, and then the guy’s aura flared as his mouth spread in a shit-eating grin. “What are you gonna do about it?”
Tyler’s entire body shook as the man began to squeeze.
Tyler could sense the Resilience pooling within Rhett’s hand. Clearly, the Aspect of Iron was doing a lot for Rhett’s physical strength. His grip was like a vice — probably stronger than even the toughest duneclaw’s tail claw. But that wasn’t why he was shaking — Tyler had long since surpassed that level of power.
He was shaking with rage.
“I said don’t touch me.”
A sharp crack rang through the room as he slapped Rhett's hand away.
Rhett’s nostrils flared, and the burly man’s jaw clenched as he stared at the red mark on his forearm. “Y-you!”
The lackeys were all staring predatorily at him, poised to spring into action. Tyler looked at each one of them in turn, and with every second that passed his blood ran hotter.
Wasn’t he strong enough now that he didn’t have to deal with this bullshit? Even after all that struggle and strife, all his relentless training and cultivation, these kinds of people just wouldn’t leave him alone.
Yes officer, we tried our best to restrain him non-violently, but he kept trying to attack her and Chase here accidentally knocked him out.
Don’t listen to any of his lies when he wakes up — I’m sure he’s going to try and twist things to make him look like the victim. You know the type.
Rhett was fuming, his fists clenching and unclenching as he worked his jaw, veins popping from his temples. “Okay, buddy. I was planning on letting you off easy. But if you’re really a Journeyman, then fight me like one.”
The Winding Chains
A pair of hands shot towards his neck, and Tyler had had enough.
The Flowing Sands burst to life within him, far stronger than it had ever come before. It thrashed through his channels like a roaring river, seeping into his muscles like the anger seeped into his mind.
His hands intercepted the man’s wrists before they could even get close. Rhett pitted his full strength against him, pushing up towards his neck like a charging bull, but Tyler’s frustration would not be denied.
We are going to stay right fucking here.
They remained locked in place like statues as he held his hands steady, Rhett straining so hard it looked like he was going to burst a vein. Tyler’s mana seemed to sing with his determination, and as he slowly guided Rhett’s wrists down, the man’s entire body began to tremble.
“Have you ever considered the consequences of your actions, Rhett?”
Rhett growled, his beady eyes bulging at the sensation of being overpowered, and his lips began to quiver as the discomfort steadily ramped up. His wrists were turned outwards as far as they could go now, and Tyler watched as the rage in the man’s face slowly began to turn into fear.
“I don’t know. Maybe you haven’t. Maybe you never even thought of the fact that you’re inflicting damage upon a living, breathing person.”
Tyler increased the pressure some more. It was just a fraction of what he was capable of, but even the slight difference made the man whimper. Rhett’s breaths were coming in short, panicked bursts, and as the hold tightened, Tyler could feel the creaking of straining joints.
“Maybe it’s different in this new world. I don’t know. Maybe with all the healers and magic you don’t have to worry as much about that stuff. In the old world, though, some wounds never healed. Some become permanent, agonizing parts of your life, all because some drunk asshole like you decided that your convenience was worth more than someone’s future.”
“N-no!” Rhett sputtered, shakily levitating one of his shields and sending it shooting at Tyler’s neck. “I’ll kill you! I’ll fucking kill you —”
Tyler’s control slipped for just a moment, and the man’s right wrist caved in on itself with the snap of fracturing bone.
Rhett’s wails filled the room like the screams of a dying banshee. It was this guttural, horrible thing, releasing bits of spittle that stuck grossly against Tyler’s bare chest, and the other men all flinched away from the sound like it was a hot iron.
The shield bounced pitifully off of Tyler’s skin.
Give me a reason to do the other one. Just one. Fucking. Reason.
“Y-you won’t get away with this…” The man blubbered, clutching his wrist as he desperately tried to backpedal. “I — I’ll kill you…”
“You can’t.”
Crack.
The room filled once again with screams, and Tyler shoved him away with disgust.
But as he glared at the screaming man, he saw that Rhett was pedaling backwards in a terrified scramble. The rest of the shields were inert, and a large patch of liquid was spreading through the large man’s pants.
The rest of his lackeys had long since backed away from them, like mice before a hungry cat. John had gone as pale as a sheet, and his eyes were bugged out as he stood perfectly still like a deer in headlights. The man who had shoved him had one foot out the door, as if afraid that if he tried to run that would only doom him further.
“Now you know I wasn’t lying,” Tyler hissed. “Now you’ve checked for yourselves, like you wanted to do so fucking bad. So now you can leave.”
His fingers still trembled with emotion, and his breaths were heavy despite the fight having been nearly effortless. He let out a shuddering sigh, his last words coming out in a whispered croak.
“Just… fucking leave me alone.”
And the group of six men fled from him like vermin.