Page 134 of Decadence

“The humans,” he rasped, glancing sharply at Kail.

“All alive. That’s all you need to know. They aren’t our priority right now. They will take her to the Mhyndin… to Zyara.”

Relief surged through Ikriss, along with searing anger. They had dared to attack what was his?

It didn’t make any sense, but he didn’t care.

He just wanted to find the ones that were responsible for this and tear their beating black hearts out of their chests.

Before Kail could say another word, Ikriss made one, two, three steps and launched himself off the edge of the roof.

He plummeted a dozen stories, following the plume of smoke left by a burning wreckage.

As he dropped through the air, he could feel his skin healing. The terrible pain reduced to an electric tingle. His vision sharpened. His acute hearing returned.

Thud.

He landed on his feet and drew his sword, wasting not even a single breath as he stalked toward the wreckage. It had embedded itself into the soft soil of a small cultivated garden. Fire licked across its body, and in several places the hull was molten red from where his and Kail’s plasma bolts had struck it.

Smoke poured into the air. Three armored humans emerged from the rear exit, sprinting toward the tower.

The grey metal on the body and wings of the craft had melted off in places, revealing patches of pure obsidian.

That was no human ship.

It was a Kordolian Imperial Military vessel. How many of these were strewn across the Nine Galaxies, waiting to be commandeered by their enemies?

Someone fired plasma at him. Fueled by pure fury, he dodged the blast and began to run.

Kail was on his heels, as swift and silent as ever. “I will take them. You secure the ship, boss.”

Ikriss didn’t question Kail. He just nodded in agreement and ran for the ship, because Kail’s thinking was clear and logical. The former First Division warrior was one of the very few that could give him orders like that—as an equal.

He charged through the billowing black smoke and entered the ship. There was a faint prickle at the back of his neck as the Sylth acknowledged his presence, leaving no doubt as to the craft’s origins.

Three black-armored humans remained inside; at least two of them appeared to be injured. One hobbled toward him, dual guns raised.

They were the very same guns used by Ikriss and his men.

He snarled in disgust and reached for his weapon, only to remember that he’d dropped his guns on the roof when he’d been hit by the plasma cannon.

No matter.

The human’s reaction time was slow.

He feinted to one side as plasma roared through the cabin, slamming into the opposite wall. The human soldier stumbled backward, struggling with the plasma recoil.

Tch. Foolish human. It took many revolutions to be able to develop the skill to handle plasma recoil.

Ikriss danced inside the human’s range and separated his head from his neck.

It hit the floor with a thud. He spun and sank his blade into the second human’s side.

The third human was on his ass, shuffling back into the corner. Ikriss calmly walked across and ground his boot into the fool’s chest. With a sharp flick of his wrist, he cleared the blood from his blade and slid it back into its sheath.

His horn-buds throbbed like crazy. In irritation, he snapped back his helm, meeting the human’s terrified eyes.

In the corner of his vision, the Kordolian pilot started to get up out of his seat.

---