Chapter 9 Prisoners

Lenny stood resolute, his gaze fixed on the bandits ahead of him. He raised his voice, cutting through the oppressive silence. " Surrender and drop your weapons now," he commanded, his tone as cold and unyielding as the winter winds.

A murmur of uncertainty passed through the bandits, but one man, older and scarred with a cruel smirk, stepped forward. "Who's this guy, hey you go take of that brat," he growled to his comrades. "He's just one man."

One young bandit seeking to prove himself branded his weapons and began to advance on Lenny. His calm demeanor contrasted starkly with his aggression. He knew he had only moments before they reached him, and his expression hardened with resolve.

With a deep breath, Lenny began to chant, his voice weaving an ancient, rhythmic incantation. His hands moved in intricate patterns, tracing symbols in the air. The ground beneath him trembled as if responding to his command.

From below, the earth shifted violently. Thick, gnarled vines erupted from the soil, their dark green tendrils twisting and writhing with an almost sentient awareness. The vines shot upward with a speed that defied belief, snaking through the air with a sinister grace.

The first bandit to charge was met with a terrifying spectacle. The vines lashed out, coiling tightly around his legs and arms. The force was immediate and brutal; the vines tightened with a relentless grip, lifting the bandit off his feet and pulling them violently to the ground. His initial shouts of surprise quickly turned into guttural cries of pain and fear as the vines constricted tighter, squeezing the breath from their lungs and rendering him helpless.

Panic spread through the remaining bandits like wildfire. They stumbled back, eyes wide with terror as they witnessed the increasing number of their comrades being dragged and bound by the living plants. The vines didn't just restrain; they seemed to choke and strangle, adding an element of suffocating dread to the scene.

The soldiers stationed at the walls of Rotengen, who had been watching the confrontation from a distance, stood in stunned silence. Their eyes were wide, jaws slack, as they witnessed the raw power Lenny wielded. The spectacle was beyond anything they had anticipated; the vines, seemingly alive, had rendered the bandits powerless in moments. The soldiers exchanged glances, their faces a mix of awe and disbelief. Whispers of astonishment rippled through their ranks.

Marek, was watching from the sidelines. His expression shifted from confidence to shock as he observed the display of Lenny's magic. He had known Lenny was powerful, but this was a level of control over nature that he had never seen before. Marek's mouth was agape, " So he was the one who helped me!" his eyes darting between the writhing vines and the defeated bandits. He clenched his fists, his anger simmering beneath his stunned exterior. The ease with which Lenny had subdued the bandits was both impressive and deeply unsettling.

Lenny deliberately made a gesture, the vines responded to his will, lifting him high into the air, creating an imposing and dramatic display. His voice, augmented by his magic, carried far and wide, reaching every corner of the city and beyond.

"People of Rotengen, citizens of this land, hear me now!" Lenny's voice boomed with an unnatural strength, the magic weaving through each word and making it resonate with undeniable authority. The sound echoed through the streets, reverberating off the stone walls and reaching the ears of every listener. The walls, normally a barrier of defense, now served as a vantage point for the city's inhabitants. Many climbed to the top, peering over the parapets with eager, determined eyes, their faces a mix of curiosity and grim anticipation.

As Lenny floated several meters above the ground, supported by the living vines, he continued, his voice imbued with a commanding gravity. "Here stand the vermin who have plagued our lands, who have brought suffering to our women and terror to our families. These bandits, these lowly creatures, have spread misery and pain. They have ravaged the innocent, committed unspeakable atrocities, and left a trail of blood and despair in their wake."

He gestured toward the captured bandits, their faces a mix of fear and defiance. "Look upon them! These are not mere thieves. They are predators, beasts who have made a sport of our suffering. They have defiled our homes, violated our sanctuaries, and desecrated the very essence of our lives. They are a blight upon our world, a plague that must be eradicated."

Lenny's voice grew colder, imbued with a righteous fury that seemed to chill the very air. "They are nothing more than cowards hiding behind their weapons, their bravado a façade for their vile acts. They are the scum that crawls in the darkness, and today, they will face the judgment they so richly deserve."

The magic in his voice carried the weight of his anger, ensuring that every citizen, every soldier, could feel the intensity of his condemnation. Many of the city's residents, driven by a mix of fear and hope, had scaled the walls, clambering up ladders and stairs to witness the spectacle firsthand. From their elevated positions, they watched the scene unfold with bated breath.

"To those who have been wronged, to those who have suffered under their tyranny, know that this is but a small measure of justice. These men will now be made to work, to serve the very land they sought to despoil. They will toil in the mines, where their actions will be repaid with sweat and labor, as they build the future they sought to destroy."

As Lenny levitated higher, the vines that held him aloft seemed to pulse with his words, their dark green tendrils shimmering with the magic that coursed through them. He raised his voice, the magic amplifying his declaration. "I am Prince Martin Obelia, last of my name! I stand for justice, for the restoration of order, and for the defense of our people. Let my name be a beacon of hope and a warning to those who would threaten us."

Lenny's gaze swept over the crowd, his eyes blazing with determination. The faces of the citizens, visible even from the heights of the walls, reflected a mixture of relief and grim satisfaction. As his final words echoed through the air, the crowd erupted into cheers. The sounds of applause and jubilant shouts filled the air, a wave of collective relief and gratitude washing over the city. The people's voices joined together, a chorus of approval and newfound hope that surged through the streets and reached every corner of the besieged city.

As Lenny's voice rang out one last time, the enchantment made his words linger, a resonant promise of justice and strength. The bandits, now mere shadows of their former selves, were led away, their defiance crushed under the weight of Lenny's words and the collective will of the people.

The citizens who had climbed the walls, their spirits buoyed by Lenny's powerful address, watched as the bandits were escorted to their new roles. The cheering continued, mingling with the sounds of relief and renewed determination. Lenny's speech had not only subdued their enemies but had also ignited a sense of unity and hope among the people, marking a turning point in their fight for survival.