Aldrin flew back towards the Birds of Paradise after stalking Skarra to his next target. He passed over it briefly, eyeing his Orcs rounding up the last stragglers from both gangs. He needed to grab Thassor. Luckily in his rage, he didn’t kill him, but the wound he did inflict was severe enough to have put him in a coma. He circled the battle area. Buildings were crumbled and the last of the fires were being put out by the denizens that crawled out of their holes after the fight. Using his Predator Vision, he quickly found Thassor’s fading life source amidst the rubble and quickly flew down, landing atop the debris. He moved the few stones that covered his body after he threw him into a decaying wall, then he grabbed him by his ankle, dragging him out.

  He knelt beside a groaning and mumbling Thassor, watching his eyes rapidly flick back and forth under his eyelids. Then he checked the stab wound that had drenched the left side of Thassor’s body with his blood. Aldrin shook his head. “Even at the brink of death, Dwarves are still stubborn,” he said between them before picking him up and throwing him over his shoulder.

  Aldrin looked around, his eyes seeing in perfect clarity in the alleyways the darkness covered. He found no one near, then bunched power in his legs before jumping high into the sky. Once high enough, he shifted part of his body into his bat swarm, carrying himself and Thassor back to Birds of Paradise. He figured if the Iron Reavers saw their leader in this shape, it would give him an easier time of bringing them into the fold. The Ash Vultures, on the other hand, would be a different problem entirely without proof of Skarra being beaten. However, she wouldn’t win any points of favor once he told them she had run.

  Once back at the destroyed and ruined bar, he called for the shadows and Delena’s Veil to cover him, obscuring his identity from them. With Skarra, it was strategic. He wanted her to know it was him, so when the time came, he hoped she would submit, but it was a long shot. Especially knowing how confrontational she was just after their first little bout. Albeit he was disappointed that she didn’t put up more of a fight.

  Nonetheless, Aldrin reached out through the Servant Bond connecting with Jared, Pierre, Evie, and his Ghoul Baron, forming a hive mind in a sense.

  “Ok this is weird. I can hear everyone’s thoughts!” Jared was the first to break the silence within their minds before pausing. “Wait… does that mean you all can hear mine…?” He asked, somehow conveying a mounting horror within his mental voice.

  Evie let out a long sigh. “It does…” she replied dryly.

  Jared shrieked, causing Aldrin to wince and nearly drop Thassor. “Jared!” He reached out. “Just calm your mind.”

  Pierre snickered, which was unusual coming from him. “Of all things, you are worried about what goes on in your mind?”

  “Wouldn’t you?!” Jared asked in an accusing tone. “Oh, wait… we can’t all be as cool, calm, and collected like Captain Stick in the Mud.”

  “Hey! At least I know how to control my thoughts!” Pierre fired back, earning a scandalous scoff from Jared.

  “Guys please. It’s not that bad,” Evie tried to defuse the tension.

  “Anyway, I’m on my way back with Thassor. I let Skarra escape, and she led me to another hideout that we will soon attend after meeting with the captain,” Aldrin informed them through the hive mind.

  “Are we fighting again?” Pierre asked.

  “No. It’s an auction house, so we will have to buy our way in, which shouldn’t be a problem with how much loot and coins we have gained,” Aldrin said. “I’m coming down though. Talk more later. For now, just be as menacing as possible. Evie, pass it along to Moira.”

  Pierre whistled, gathering the attention of the captive gang members and the Orcs that surrounded them with their weapons pointed at them. They all turned their attention towards Pierre, who stood at the ruined bar along with Evie, Jared, and a fidgeting Moira. All eyes turned upwards when the screeching of a hundred bats made its presence. Many strained their eyes to see within the swarm a shadow-cloaked figure holding a battered body in broken steel armor.

  Then, as one, the bats, the shadow-cloaked figure, and the battered body touched down right in the middle of Pierre, Evie, Jared, and Moira. The bats were swallowed into the shadow-cloaked figure as it threw the body down, revealing the leader of the Iron Reavers, Thassor. Green slitted eyes swept their gaze over the captured gang members. The remaining Iron Reavers bristled at seeing their fallen leader at the feet of Aldrin. Some even tried to claw their way forward but were quickly reminded of their place when a nearby Orc struck them with the butt of their halberds.

  “Iron Reavers,” Aldrin cooly said, the shadows masking his voice to come out as ethereal and wispy that rode along the wind, tickling the ears of all those present. “Your leader has fallen, and I give you this chance to submit or die,” he said, pulling out Sin-Screamer and plunging it into the shoulder of Thassor, who didn’t even stir.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Aldrin saw his Ghoul Baron slink along the edges, forcing the Orcs to keep a wary and watchful eye on it. He also knew that there were also newly made Ghouls prowling about, waiting for one to slip away. “Or,” Aldrin paused, his eyes roaming over them all, piercing the more defiant ones with a glare that promised a slow death. “You may become another one of my thralls.” He gestured to the Ghoul Baron, who snarled and rumbled a growl that emanated from the back of its throat, igniting a primal fear within those that forgot what it meant to prey.

  “To the Ash Vultures, however many of you remain, I offer you the same chance. But,” Aldrin paused again. “Skarra ran, and if you think you can outpace my creatures,” he pointed at the Dreadmaws and their riders. “My Ghouls,” he pointed at the Ghoul Baron and the other Ghouls that chittered within the dark alleyways. “Myself and the monsters you had chained up, then I welcome you all to try.”

  His eyes scanned for the Minotaurs and found them still huddled together, their nostrils flaring from the scents around them as their own eyes tried to perceive the threat least likely to cause them trouble. Much to Aldrin’s chagrin, their eyes never strayed too far from his form, viewing him as a threat and not a savior, something he would rectify shortly.

  Aldrin cut his eyes back when five broke away to run. “They are yours,” he mentally told the Ghoul Baron and, like a released hound about to go on a hunt, it let out a screeching roar that was mirrored by the other Ghouls. The Ghoul Baron leapt and scuttled up the nearest building, up to the roof. It was followed by its pack as Aldrin counted at least nine other Ghouls scuttled up their own buildings to the roofs to join in the chase of the fleeing gang members that were brave enough to run. Aldrin wondered if he should chalk up their bravery as respect or sheer stupidity as they ran for their lives.

  It didn’t last long as one by one, their screams of terror and pain pierced the now empty quietness that settled over this part of Ebira. Each scream that was cut short, followed by the victorious roars of the Ghouls, made everyone flinch. The Orcs that stood vigilantly gripped their weapons tighter in anticipation of more runners, but none moved after the last, too scared to even get their legs to listen to their commands. Aldrin tsked and shook his head. “Now you have seen the consequence, my offer still stands. Submit and you will be treated not as slaves but as denizens of a new burgeoning empire!”

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  None made to move, too scared to even look in his direction as many had downcast eyes that widened with fear with each passing moment. So, Aldrin chose a different tactic instead. He made his way over to the Minotaurs, who bellowed and growled with each step he took. Aldrin released his hold over the shadows that obscured his body but made sure to keep his face hidden.

  He held up his hands as he approached them, noting their wounded member they encircled in the middle of them. “I have not come to harm you. Only help,” he said gently, but the Minotaurs sniffed once and shook their heads. “I don’t know how much of your mind has been reverted back to your wild instincts, but I was always told that Minotaurs were a sentient people, capable of a lot more than what was perceived of you,” he took another step closer. “I know your family member is hurt?” he tested, and the Minotaurs bristled, puffing their chests out more and angling their heads, readying themselves to defend and charge. Aldrin stopped, still holding his hands up. “Ok, I won’t come any closer. I will stay right here,” he said gently.

  “Pierre, do you have any health potions?” Aldrin asked within the hive mind.

  “I do, but it's not great, like the standardized one. I don’t know what ingredients they used, and I couldn’t get the book from Lor-Vold in time before the Queen decided to call it doomed,” Pierre answered.

  “It's fine, as long as it shows we are trying to help,” Aldrin replied.

  Pierre didn’t say another word as he made his way over to them. He pulled the Health Potion that was dubbed a Lesser Health Potion by the System before he handed it over to Aldrin. Grateful for it, Aldrin dipped his head and then took a small step forward, never breaking eye contact with the gold cap horned, blackish-brown furred lead Minotaur. He placed the Lesser Health Potion ?between them, then a small pouch of coins that held ten gold coins, which was way more than enough to get home if they wanted or start over somewhere else. “For you,” he gestured to them. “Or you can all stay here with us and be treated like actual people, free to live however you want, and no one would bother you. Please think about it, we would be happy to have you all. Now I will leave you to think about it but know this, whatever you decide, no harm will come to you and you will be free to leave if that is what you choose,” Aldrin told them and then bowed slightly before taking three steps back before turning his back to them.

  “Creatures of the night!” Aldrin called next, and this time, out of the alleyways, the pony-sized rats and mutant dogs with lesions scampered out. He took a moment to Inspect them to see what he was dealing with since he didn’t get a chance beforehand.

  The chimera also made itself known as it slinked out behind the Giant Rats and Mutant Dogs. It meandered towards Aldrin, standing eye to eye with him as its own yellow reptilian slitted eyes held a glint of sentience in them. It nudged its head into Aldrin’s chest and Aldrin was hesitant at first but he placed his hand on it, stroking it along the back of its head, feeling the scales from its viper head through his gloves from his bonded and semi-living armor.

  “Interesting,” Aldrin muttered to himself as he continued to pet the chimera, then selected no and was greeted with another pop-up.

  Aldrin couldn’t help but chuckle thinking of how his mom and dad would react if they could see him now, showing them the chimera as his first pet. “You can stay too,” he told it, and it purred like a giant cat, which wasn’t what he was expecting. “All of you can stay,” he addressed the rest of the creatures. “Pierre,” he called.

  “Yeah?” Pierre answered, coming to stand off to his right shoulder but a respectful distance from the other creatures and chimera.

  Aldrin turned to face him, but the chimera nudged him, causing him to catch himself from how forceful it was, but a chuckle still escaped his lips. The Orcs and gang members saw the interaction, and had the effect of only elevating the fear the gang members felt and the Orcs' respect. “Are there any freed prisoners or did they all get away?” Aldrin asked him.

  Pierre frowned as he thought about it. “I don’t really know. Buramog might know though since he was in charge of rounding up everyone after they cut down the ones that still fought while the others surrendered.”

  Aldrin nodded at that and looked for Buramog-Kurdan and quickly realized he had no way of telling who was who with all the Orcs wearing full faceplate helmets. Denoting Buramog had quickly risen to the top of his to-do list. “Buramog?” he called, and one Orc stepped forward that was busy patrolling around the encircled gang members.

  “Yes, my chieftain?” Buramog answered, taking off his bluish-black metallic helmet, which was glittering with runes along its edges, much like the rest of his armor.

  “Two things,” Aldrin said, and Buramog nodded, listening with rapt attention. “First, remind me to get you something to mark you as a commander,” he paused as Buramog’s deep brown eyes alighted with pride and happiness.

  “Yes, chief!” Buramog answered, his chest and posture swelling with the pride he felt before Aldrin could get to the second thing he wanted to ask.

  Aldrin chuckled once more. “Second thing is, if any of the prisoners stayed?”

  Buramog shook his head. “I am afraid not, Chief. Once the fighting got too intense, they fled as quickly as they could. We can track them down with the Dreadmaws if you command it?”

  Aldrin waved him off. “No, it's fine. It's their freedom. I just wanted to help them along. You did excellent work.” He clapped Buramog on the shoulder as he walked past, making his way back to the captured gang members.

  He took his place at the front again, with Thassor’s comatose body in front of him. “Now-”

  Before Aldrin could get out his next sentence, a horn blew, followed by thundering footsteps that marched in step with the beat of a drum. How they managed to mask their arrival from Aldrin gave him pause as he listened. His Orcs and the Dreadmaws readied themselves, as did Evie and Jared. The only one who didn’t seem to be surprised was Moira, and unfortunately nobody paid any attention to her shift in behavior.

  Aldrin sniffed their air and was greeted by the scent of strong spices and herbs. The same scents he remembered his father cooking with.

  “Scarab Sons,” Aldrin quietly said to himself, then pulled Sin-Screamer from Thassor and placed it upon his shoulder as he angled his body in the direction they would arrive. “Ready yourselves! We have company!”