"Don't matter what it is!" the leader roared, trying to rally his crumbling courage, recognizing that retreat now meant utter humiliation. "He's just one man! We got spirits! Summon!"
With desperate urgency, the three men focused inwards, drawing on their own meager reserves of Spirit Power. The air around them crackled with three distinct, weaker energy signatures.
From the leader burst a creature resembling a large, sleek black cat, but wreathed in flickering flames of an unnatural, icy blue. It hissed, arching its back, blue fire dripping from its ethereal whiskers. A Blueflame Lynx, Lloyd identified it. Basic fire affinity, decent agility, but low power output.
The lanky man summoned his spirit – a hyperactive squirrel, larger than normal, with fur standing on end, crackling with tiny sparks of yellow electricity. It chittered aggressively, darting back and forth. A Sparktail Squirrel. Basic lightning, fast but fragile. (No, it's not pickachu.)
The stocky man produced perhaps the most visually alarming, yet ultimately weakest, of the three: a lumbering dog, seemingly sculpted from cooling, cracked lava. Heat radiated from it, and dribbles of molten rock dripped from its maw. A Magma Hound. Slow, tough hide, weak fire projection.
Three Manifestation-level spirits. All distinctly low-tier, probably reflecting the limited potential of their masters. Compared to Fang, even in his slightly fatigued state, they were like candle flames next to a bonfire. Compared to Redborn? They were practically decorative.
Right, Lloyd assessed clinically. Elemental mismatch. Fire, lightning, more fire/earth. Annoying, but manageable.
"Get him! Sic 'em!" the leader screamed, pointing a trembling finger at Lloyd.
The Blueflame Lynx hissed again and darted forward, launching a small ball of flickering blue fire. The Sparktail Squirrel zipped up onto the leader's shoulder, chittering furiously, gathering electrical energy for a weak bolt. The Magma Hound lumbered forward, opening its jaws to release a pathetic spurt of molten slag that splattered harmlessly several feet short of Lloyd.
Lloyd didn't even flinch.
With effortless flicks of his wrists, guided by pure intent, several of the gleaming steel wires surrounding him lashed out.
Swish! One wire intercepted the blue fireball mid-air, slicing cleanly through the magical construct, dissipating it into harmless azure sparks.
Zip! Another cluster of wires formed a shimmering, momentary shield that deflected the Sparktail's weak electrical discharge uselessly into the ground.
Clang! A third wire met the lumbering Magma Hound head-on, not cutting, but delivering a sharp kinetic blow to its snout that sent the creature stumbling back with a surprised yelp, shaking its rocky head.
The spirits paused, momentarily confused by the effortless neutralization of their attacks. Their masters stared, dumbfounded.
"My turn," Lloyd murmured, a predatory gleam entering his eyes.
The cloud of fine wires around him surged outwards. They didn't aim for the scavengers themselves, but for their spirits. Why waste energy on the puppets when you can cut the strings?
The Blueflame Lynx tried to dodge, relying on its feline agility, but the wires moved faster, anticipating its movements. A dozen threads instantly wrapped around its limbs and torso, binding it tightly, the cold steel seeming to sizzle against its blue fire, disrupting its energy flow. It yowled in surprise and pain, pinned helplessly.
The Sparktail Squirrel tried to dart away, but a cage of shimmering wires snapped shut around it before it could build speed, trapping it mid-air, its frantic electrical discharges grounding harmlessly against the conductive metal.
The Magma Hound proved slightly tougher, its rocky hide resisting the initial binding attempts. But Lloyd simply sent more wires, weaving an intricate net that enveloped the creature, tightening, constricting, not cutting, but applying immense, inescapable pressure. The Hound struggled, roaring, trying to melt the wires, but the steel held firm, its sheer quantity overwhelming the spirit's low-level heat.
Within seconds, all three spirits were neutralized, bound, struggling futilely within gleaming, inescapable prisons of steel wire. Their masters watched, aghast, their primary weapons rendered utterly useless.
"H-how?" the leader stammered, staring at his ensnared Lynx. "Iron manipulation shouldn't be that fast! That fine!"
"Who said anything about iron?" Lloyd replied softly, the cloud of wires around him beginning to contract slightly, drawing closer, their whispering hum intensifying.
He could end it here. Crush the spirits, potentially causing severe backlash to their masters. Or he could simply hold them, demonstrating absolute superiority. But the fatigue was starting to bite. He needed to finish this quickly, decisively, and hopefully learn something in the process. He needed a knockout blow.
His mind flashed to Earth again. Not to anime this time, but to basic physics. Ballistics. Projectiles. Concentrated force delivered at range. He looked at his hands. He could manipulate steel. He could generate heat, though he was conserving that now. Could he combine those?
Forget wires, the thought sparked. Solid projectiles.