The Familiar One

Azrael swiftly recognized the voice and wasted no time. He vaulted over the bridge rope railing, expertly sliding down along the slanted rock to reach the ground below.

Meanwhile, Erik chose a more practical route, retracing his steps back along the way they came. After all, acrobatics weren't exactly suited for someone of his age.

Azrael sprinted towards the door, his heart racing as he saw the slaves gasping and muttering amongst themselves.

"The terrible mage is here!" he heard their hushed voices.

A figure clad in a black robe emerged from the door, two chains clutched tightly in his hands, their ends leading to two humans being pulled along like reluctant prisoners.

Azrael's spirits soared as the same fire that fuelled him during the battle with the Goblin Chief now surged through his veins once more. A burst of energy surged within him as he tightened his grip on the sword in his hand, a reminder of his hard-won victory.

After enduring countless hardships, he had finally found them: Illeron and Kaitlynn.

Bound in chains with their hands and legs restrained, Illeron and Kaitlynn appeared weary and haggard. Kaitlynn, her elven heritage evident with her pointed ears, looked worn and vulnerable, her cheeks flushed red from exhaustion. Illeron's face bore the marks of distress and fatigue, his expression somber and downtrodden.

Azrael cautiously concealed himself behind a large boulder, his senses alert and wary. He had learned from past experiences never to underestimate a mage, recalling the dire consequences of doing so.

As the mage came to a halt, surveying the scene before him, Azrael remained hidden, observing the unfolding situation with caution.

"What the heck happened here?!" the mage exclaimed, his voice echoing through the cavern as he gazed upon the slaves. They were scattered around, their eyes filled with a mixture of fear and anticipation.

'Anticipation for what?' the mage wondered, puzzled by the tension in the air.

"I demand to know what happened here!" the mage thundered, his voice amplified by magic, causing the entire cavern to tremble slightly. Azrael had no doubt that he was using magic to amplify his voice and the power of his shout.

However, the slaves remained silent. Some flinched, while others shivered in fear, unwilling or unable to answer.

Erik stepped forward, his gaze unwavering as he locked eyes with the mage. With deliberate slowness, he pointed towards the open doors of the boss room. The mage's eyes followed the pointing finger and widened in shock.

"Im-impossible!" the mage stuttered, his composure crumbling. The two chained individuals next to him gasped in disbelief.

In that split second of distraction, Azrael saw his chance and crept forward, moving as quietly as a shadow against the backdrop of chaos. He shot a quick nod to Erik, who returned the signal with a determined look, understanding the silent plan they had concocted in the split second.

With a smooth motion, Erik scooped up a hefty rock from the ground, feeling its rough texture under his fingers. He took aim with the precision of someone who'd skipped rocks across countless ponds as a child, his eyes locked on the unsuspecting mage.

Then, like tossing a pebble into a pond, Erik effortlessly lobbed the rock towards the mage's direction. It sailed through the air with a graceful arc before connecting with a satisfying thud against the mage's face. The impact knocked the mage off balance, disrupting his concentration and sending him staggering backward.

The distracted mage didn't see the stone hurtling toward him until it smacked him in the face, causing him to stagger back, dropping the chains he held. He instinctively clutched his face in pain, his expression twisted with surprise and discomfort.

Spotting the golden opportunity, Azrael dashed forward, positioning himself directly in front of the bewildered mage.

As Azrael focused his mind, he felt the familiar surge of energy coursing through his body, a burning sensation that hinted at the latent power within him. Despite the exhaustion weighing heavily on his limbs, the rest he managed to snatch allowed him to tap into his mana reserves, albeit briefly.

With a swift motion, he charged his sword with mana, intending to unleash a new combination with Ignis. But to his dismay, the magic failed to respond as it had in his previous life, leaving him puzzled and frustrated.

Meanwhile, the mage's senses tingled with an eerie sensation, as if the very air around him crackled with static electricity. His skin prickled, and the hairs on his arms stood on end, a tell-tale sign of the impending danger lurking nearby.

With determination burning in his eyes, Azrael thrust his sword towards the mage, its blade shimmering with a bright blue aura, fuelled by the mana coursing through it. The mage, taken aback by the sudden attack, quickly raised his hands in a defensive gesture.

Reacting swiftly, the mage summoned a barrier of jagged rocks from the ground, forming a makeshift shield in front of him just in time to intercept Azrael's strike. The collision sent shockwaves through the air, accompanied by a loud clang as the sword met the sturdy barrier.

Azrael's sword struck the rocky barrier with a solid thud, but to his frustration, it failed to penetrate the makeshift shield. Instead, the blade became lodged within the rocky surface, ensnared by its unyielding grip.

"Humph. You think you can kill me, brat?" he taunted, his voice dripping with arrogance.

But before the mage could revel in his apparent victory, a sudden impact rocked him, a second stone striking him squarely in the face. Azrael grinned triumphantly, his gaze flicking towards Erik, who had skillfully launched the timely distraction.

With a determined tug, Azrael wrenched his sword free from the rocky wall, his muscles straining against the resistance.

The mage's fury boiled over as he gestured with intense concentration, causing two sharp spears to burst forth from the earth, poised to strike. But before he could unleash another attack, a barrage of rocks rained down upon him, forcing him to abandon his offensive stance.