Chapter 6

Isha felt the Soul Bond between himself and Thaddeus Stormweaver. He could instinctively tell he was not penalized for not saving the others, but that was likely only because he was on the verge of dying himself. 

However, now he was in a position to make a difference...or at least the System thought so, which meant he had to act.

The first thing Isha noticed was that this beach differed from any he had ever experienced. It wasn't clear if it was his new race or maybe this particular sand, but he was bouncing along like his feet were perfect springs.

The journey was fine and dandy until scorching orange sand began to find its way into his sandals and began irritating him. Ignoring it, he pushed on to help 'his' man.

He rounded just past the rock and saw a burst of lightning chain between a couple of Orcs, searing flesh as soon as rending it.

The familiar smell of ozone was drifting down the beach, but he just needed to figure out how to help his man from a distance.

Isha quickly thought back to his gaming experience.

'In Magister's March, they used mirrored thought to implant casting vectors and synesthesia for the user so they could 'feel' magic. I don't...'

Reaching within his mind, he tried to touch the 'Mana-like' substance known as Command. It was there, but it refused to move.

'Shit. Maybe it is intent-based?'

He began to think about Battle Meditation, something that Elite Warriors would enter to remain completely focused on the battlefield.

The Command moved and stirred slightly.

'I'm on the right track! Now I need to know WHAT to do...'

He tried to superimpose himself over the visage of the Wizard, but it had no effect. Isha's literal experience at staying calm in high-pressure situations wasn't exactly what the 'Ability' was looking for.

'What does it want?'

A shield between the Orcs and the Humans when up, ensuring a little more time.

'WHAT DOES IT MEAN?!'

He refocused and looked at the ability: Inspire [Epic] - While many slave masters rely on Commands and Mental Magic, those who possess the Inspire ability rise above those primitive methods. Instead of instilling loyalty through pain and reduced autonomy, you have the exceptional ability to inspire greatness and loyalty among those under your dominion. [Variable Cost: Variable Effect]

'It has to be talking about leadership? FUCK!'

Then he reread it again.

'No, wait-this is an ability that is ACTIVATED for a cost. There has to be a way to implement this into a fight other than raw leadership. Hang on a second, it considers Mental Magic to be PRIMITIVE? How is magic...oh...OF COURSE!'

He started talking to himself, "So, you are like the System in Tales of Catalonia." He felt the bond pull harder as the barrier magic was about to fail, "Not to worry, I got THIS!"

He pulled the Command into his mouth and began to speak the magic into reality, "Thaddeus Stormweaver, may your Acetylcholine, Epinephrine, Dopamine, Gamma-Aminobutyric Acid, Glutamate, Serotonin, and Histamine be BALANCED FOR WARRRRR!!!!"

The barrier magic shattered as the man in question staggered. Then, as if a living storm had arrived on the battlefield, tendrils of lightning began to lash out, striking unerringly. Mayhem erupted on the side of the Orcs as the man's shattered mental state was no more. All that stood before them was what they would come to fear in their final moments.

Limbs severed.

Hearts exploded.

Brains fried.

Isha watched from afar, feeling his Command dropping prodigiously. There were only a few hundred points left~THUD!

The Humans and Orcs were both stunned.

A small bolt was sticking out of the Wizard's eye socket as he lifelessly collapsed to the ground in a heap of flesh and bone.

Of the 12 Orcs present on the beach, the Wizard had taken out 10 of them in a few seconds. The odds that were once so high...sunk.

Isha collapsed to the ground, feeling the pain from their bond being severed. 

[WARNING: Your Slave, Thaddeus Stormweaver [High Wizard (Level - 48)], has been slain.]

The coldness began seeping into his bones, making it clear that an active connection was much more...important than the others.

At that moment, Isha crawled back to his knees and understood this game's rules, 'This is the drawback. This is the reason why Slavers probably don't rank very high in society. They rely on 'primitive' methods so they never have to sacrifice for their ""lessers.""'

It was just like every other game he had ever played. It had to have balance. Warriors were the Kings of melee, but Mages could destroy them by the dozens. Mages would then be taken out by the Archers or singular Assassins. Then, the Warriors would dominate the Archers and dismantle the Assassins. That was...unless the Assassin got the drop on them.

Games had to have balance.

But this was real...

Isha stood up and saw the last human die as he stabbed the Orc in the throat with a rusty nail from the wreckage.

The Orc stumbled and collapsed in the orange sand as blood fell out of his throat.

There was zero chance it'd survive...

Isha looked at the remaining Orc, the runt of the cohort. 

It was still over 7 feet tall.

The Orc bumbled around the beach before deciding it should call for a leader. Rummaging through a nearby satchel, it picked up a small conical device and put its lips to it.

Isha knew that he had to act. It felt like an impossible decision, but he knew fighting one Orc was better than fighting thirteen.

"STOP!"

The Orc was instantly incensed and began to fumble with its makeshift crossbow.

Isha had a feeling what he was about to do would suck, but he needed to do it anyways.

Pulling 200 Command from his depths, he spoke, "[Benevolent Bond]."