Rumble

Johan’s stomach could not endure the hunger anymore and loudly protested.

A martial disciple's body was no trifling thing. They spent a long time honing their strength until they could gain an understanding of martial aura, which further enhanced their abilities beyond limits. And they then kept training, hoping that one day they could gain a thorough enough understanding of their techniques to join the ranks of masters.

Martial aura left mostly breathing as a source of dehydration, so disciples needed less water unless they sweat by battling or exercising. However, no matter how superhuman or durable one was, the energy a body burns must come from somewhere.

RUMBLE

Johan's stomach protested so loudly it deafened the prisoners in the surrounding cells. The two nearest disciples immediately turned towards the sound and Johan new he could conceal his strength no longer.

Not waking to even drink water had been sure to go unnoticed by the indifferent wardens, or potentially even his cellmates. But anyone with a little sense would immediate associate the volume of his stomach's protests with his level of training – to produce a strong enough sound a strong enough organ would be needed and enhancing the strength of a stomach so much could only be achieved by a long-time nourishment by martial aura…

My luck! Johan cursed inwardly. But, ultimately, he had only himself to blame. Who told him to start planning before getting to eat? Johan glanced again at the rations in the cell. I'd rather fight it out unprepared than eat this ... thing. He reaffirmed to himself. It looks too similar to the flesh of those giant worms!

“So, that sleephead was a disciple too!” one of the two patrolling wardens exclaimed.

However, neither of them was not overly worried. It was impossible for martial strength to break through the wards designed by Mr. Mayers on the cells. Also, the prisoner wore handcuffs that suppressed exaggerated movements. Not to mention that another four disciples of the Broadsword school would instantly spring into action if they required assistance. The six of them together, could easily rival an instructing disciple.

“Younger brother, let’s quickly put restrains imbued with exploding magic on that fellow” suggested the older-looking of the two.

“Bah, why bother? It’s impossible to escape anyways” replied the other.

“Foolish brother. Mr. Mayers attaches great importance protocol. It’s better not to make light of it.”

Despite being a disciple, Markus Mayers could even hold his own for a bit against their master Skullsong. This caused every low-tier disciple employed by Markus to look at him with awe. If it was them, the master only needed to move his hand to crush them. This was far greater than the discrepancy between them and normal people!

With the younger warden grumping a bit, the two disciples quickly retrieved a new pair of handcuffs from the multitude hanging on a wall and approached Johan’s cell.

These handcuffs were made of black iron and inscribed with golden magical glyphs that pulsed towards red. Johan's common sense was not lost to him; that kind of pulsing would cause a large explosion when the energy trapped inside lost its structure.

If these were placed around his hands, escaping would be nigh impossible. Hence, he could not afford to dilly-dally any longer.

Johan concentrated on his right wrist bone and aligned it with the weaknesses in his current bonds. To aid his concentration, he recalled that hateful figure cutting down grandmaster Kenji amongst a sea of flames.

Keeping his left hand steady, Johan savagely moved his right hand downwards, imagining the pleasure of tearing through that figure.

His handcuffs should have been imbued with some basic magic to limit excess strength. However, Johan’s technique relied more on sharpening his martial aura than producing a large force. Normally, only masters would have that level of control, but it was only a prerequisite for Johan’s technique.

The part of the handcuffs restraining his right hand cleanly separated in two. Before a breath’s time had passed, Johan also freed his left hand.

The two approaching wardens paused, their jaws almost dropping. What inhumane technique could cut steel without excerpting strength?

But they were still disciples in the end. Their training allowed them to maintain their rationale even against the unexpected.

“Fellow brothers! To arms! Disciple escaping!” Their powerful voices reverberate through the dungeon, causing most of the slaves to cower in fear.

“Out of the way” Johan ordered the woman and the youngster in the cell.

They were dazed, their faces flickering with various emotions. However, they hurried away from the cell’s door.

The door was made of thick perpendicular steel bars that left gaps between them. Johan’s intuition told him there was more to those bars than met the eye. However, he couldn’t afford to waste time thinking about it.

Eh, it's not like there's a life-threatening danger - I can take the risk. He evaluated.

For good measure, he looked more carefully at the bars, but there was nothing dangerous on them, as far as he could tell. He could smell no poison and there were no runes of magic inscribed.

Johan forcefully covered his right index finger with sharpened martial aura and slashed at a steel bar, the movement perfectly aligned with the thinner parts of the steel. This would waste over a fourth of his available martial aura, but the remainder would help it recover soon enough.

However, a protective shimmer sprang up around the bar. The magical ward caught him unprepared and he severely slammed his finger with full strength against it. Johan grunted as the index finger broke and the skin between it and middle one slightly tore apart.

He immediately retrieved his hand and suppressed the urge to hop on the spot. He could vaguely tell the distortion caused around the bar by the magic instantly dispersed.

How the hell? A ward without inscriptions? That's not fair! How am I supposed to tell it's there if I can't sense it?! Johan thought-cursed amidst the piercing pain. His magical perception was really for scraps. Also, that damned intuition got it right again.

“Just be a good boy and wear those cuffs!” the older of the two wardens had reached the cell in time, only to be relieved after seeing Johan’s failed attempt to slash the bars.

“Mr. Mayers is super-cool” the younger admired the ward’s effectiveness. He made a reassuring sign to the four other disciples running towards them from a room near the prison's entrance.

Johan ignored the commotion outside the cell. If those disciples came in, they would simply save him the effort of opening the door. Also ignoring the hunger pangs and the searing pain on his finger, he made a fist with the injured hand and, covering it with martial aura, mightily punched the cell’s lock.

Invisible magical energy pushed against his fist, instants before it collided, but this time Johan was prepared. He responded by using an incomplete version of the space-severing technique on the pushing force with his other hand, again briefly imagining the carnage pleasure of tearing apart Grandmaster Kenji’s killer to boost his concentration.

To successfully sever immaterial energies, Johan needed an exceedingly sharp tool, as well as a great exertion of martial aura, strength and concentration. Although he lacked the sharp tool part, the technique nevertheless sufficiently weakened the magic for his punch to pass through.

Johan's punch decimated the lock, which burst outwards. A tremor ran throughout the underground prison from the impact.

Johan involuntarily grunted again, having also dislocated a couple of joints when his fist collided with the magic.

His right hand was mostly useless now. He could tell that, if he continued to abuse it, he would be permanently crippled.

This is why weapons are the best he thought.

The faces of all six disciple wardens –the two already on the scene and the four approaching ones– paled as they witnessed Johan destroying the lock.

There were wards designed by Mr. Mayers on those doors! Who knows how powerful they were?

Johan took two quick steps to exit the cell, his movements a blur. He could be extremely fast if he put his mind to it.

Johan punched the youngest warden with his left hand, using speed to augment his somewhat inferior pure physical prowess to knock the disciple out, before the latter could even raise a sword. The warden was sent flying against the opposite stone wall, into which he sunk a couple of fingers before sliding down.

“Younger brother!”

The other nearest warden was enraged. Lifting his broadsword with both hands, he swung it towards Johan’s head with all his might.

He was well-trained and, with fury giving him extra strength, the large sword cleaved the air extremely fast, despite its size.

However, Johan was still faster. He dodged with a swaying motion and, using the momentum, rotated his body to roundhouse kick the warden at the side of the helmet. At the cost of releasing his broadsword, the warden managed to raise his shoulder, absorbing some of the force, but was still knocked with incredible force towards the bars of a nearby cell, where he collided with the protective wards and fell to the ground like a rag.

Again, the whole dungeon trembled from the impact, lots of dust falling from the ceiling. The woman from Johan’s cell immediately run to the fallen disciple out and loosened his belt, searching for other weapons, while the youngster watched aghast. The slaves started cheering.

“Martial brothers!”

The previous exchange lasted only a couple of breaths, but the other four wardens had sprinted the remaining distance and were almost upon Johan by now, leaving him no time to stoop to grab the fallen broadsword without exposing a large opening.

On the other hand, seeing their fellow disciples get taken out so easily, the wardens cautiously took up a battle formation, surrounding Johan within a semi-circle.

“Careful! He’s at least at an instructor’s level!” the eldest amongst them, a brown-bearded man in his fifties, warned.

Meanwhile, the woman had detached a long knife from the fallen warden’s belt.

“Here!” she shouted as she tossed it to Johan in a way that would be easy to catch without revealing too much of an opening. Having seen Johan's katana before, she could determine the knife was far more useful for him instead of the fallen disciples broadsword anyway.

The opposing four disciples tensed as the knife traveled through the air. Without hesitation, they immediately charged – they needed to take out the stronger opponent before he became armed.

However, to their surprise, Johan also charged, ignoring the knife which fell to the ground with a clang.

How could they have predicted that Johan did not necessarily intent to kill?

Having taken the wardens by surprise, Johan punched the leftmost disciple's chin with his uninjured hand, using his charging momentum.

However, the man managed to pull up his broadsword and stopped the attack with the weapon’s wide side. The recoil left Johan’s arm somewhat numb.

Undeterred, Johan focused even more martial aura to his knuckles and further pushed them against the metal. The enemy disciple was probably still a novice in using martial aura and had not even covered his weapon with martial aura, letting it break.

Unfortunately, Johan had no time to follow through, as two other swings came from the right and he could also feel a vertical slash bearing on his back.

Gasping for breath after using a lot of strength on the weapon-breaking trick, he jumped with all his speed to the front-left, seizing the collar of the disarmed warden’s helmet and pushing him towards his two nearest companions, where they became entangled.

Whoosh At the same time, the vertical swing from the back just barely missed Johan’s left ear.

With his intuition as a guide, Johan used his right foot to push the blade further down. Since it was covered with martial aura, the broadsword stabbed deep into the stony ground, as if it was butter.

Seizing the initiative, Johan stepped onto the buried broadsword and kneed the off-balance warden in the face. He did not have the time to increase his speed though and, although he broke the man’s nose and knocked him stumbling backwards, he did not manage to put him out of action.

By this time, the other three wardens had de-entangled.

“Brothers, pin him down, I'll knock him out of it” the brown-bearded one shouted.

Johan moved away, stooping to grab the half-buried broadsword with his left hand. The two disciples with missing weapons converged upon Johan from both sides, while a third one charged from the front. Johan avoided the frontal charge by using the half-buried broadsword as a cover.

A the same time, he round-kicked the enemy on his left. With no time to raise his own broadsword, that one turned his head and raised his shoulders, bracing for impact. However, the weight of the buried broadsword added to the balance of Johan’s pivotal axis; the kick connected squarely with the man’s helmet, producing a ringing sound, and the man collapsed on the ground as if his string were cut. Johan hoped he had not randomly killed the guy.

He didn’t get a lot of time to worry though.

The disciple with the broken nose managed to seize his right arm. The man's brute strength was similar to Johan's and he started twisting his arm. Johan resisted the twisting that threatened to snap his bones and prepared to knee him again.

However, the disciple in front smashed past the half-buried broadsword still in Johan’s grasp, making him use a lot of strength to raise it and block the attack.

Developments were so quick, he did not even have time to adjust his movement for speed or cover the sword with martial aura. Also, he could not move that much, due to the twisting grip on his right arm. He was not even able to sway to negate the strength of the impact.

A powerful vibration was transmitted to Johan through the collision, causing his left hand to become completely numb and his internal organs to be quake.

This was a martial technique of the Broadsword school, which used vibrations to damage the opponent, even if the blow was blocked. Had Johan not been constantly covering both skin and organs with martial aura, he would be spitting blood.

Johan was thoroughly disadvantaged trying to push away two people of similar raw strength while suffering from minor internal injuries. However, he needed to hold out only for a couple of breaths; striving with all his might not to be overwhelmed, he concentrated on the familiar savageness of hacking away grandmaster Kenji’s enemies to destroy the left opponent’s broadsword. Hopefully, this would produce a favorable opening.

However, at the same time, the brown-bearded warden, who had not participated in the exchange up till now, raised his own broadsword to execute the technique he had been preparing.

His vitality rapidly drained, as it concentrated on the weapon. Although a bit inferiorly executed, Johan recognized the same technique the Beheader used in his final moment.

“Heavenly Broadsword Descend!” the middle-aged warden proclaimed, his brown beard twitching as he revealed a smile on his pale face.

Stepping forward, he swung the broadsword down with its flat side towards Johan's head.