He focused, drawing Void energy, shaping it not into threads, but into small, dense spheres held within his cupped palms. He compressed the nascent steel, making it incredibly hard. He imbued it with just a touch of his internal fire, not enough to make it glow visibly red-hot, but enough to give it a searing thermal signature upon impact. He felt his limited Spirit Power stir, the meager energy he'd cultivated earlier. Could he use that as a propellant? Not channeling it through a weapon, but using its raw kinetic potential?
Modern knowledge meets medieval magic, he thought, a thrill running through him despite the situation. Let's try some improvised ammunition.
He shaped three spheres, each about the size of a large marble, dense, heavy, radiating a faint, almost imperceptible heat. They spun slowly in his palms, humming with contained energy.
He took aim. Not at the scavengers, but at their struggling, bound spirits. Precision wasn't key here; overwhelming force was.
"Time for a field test," he muttered. Then, pouring a directed burst of his own limited Spirit Power behind each sphere like releasing a compressed spring, he launched them.
They didn't fly like arrows or bolts. They shot forward with startling velocity, propelled by raw spiritual force, spinning rapidly, emitting a low, angry buzz from the friction and the internal heat. Three miniature cannonballs of superheated, spinning steel.
THWACK! The first bullet hit the bound Magma Hound square in the chest. The impact didn't just chip the rock; it shattered it. Cracks spiderwebbed across the spirit's form, followed by a concussive shockwave. The Hound roared, its form flickering violently, then dissolving into dissipating smoke and pebbles, the binding wires falling slack.
FZZEET-CRUNCH! The second bullet slammed into the cage holding the Sparktail Squirrel. The spinning, heated metal tore through the fine wires and obliterated the small spirit in a shower of sparks and electrical discharge. It vanished instantly.
WHUMP! The third bullet struck the struggling Blueflame Lynx. The impact was devastating. The spirit let out a final, choked yowl as the superheated sphere punched clean through its ethereal form, leaving a sizzling hole, before the entire Lynx dissolved into wisps of rapidly fading blue smoke.
The backlash hit the three scavengers simultaneously. They cried out, clutching their heads or chests, staggering as the sudden severing of their spirit bonds, coupled with the violent dissipation, sent jolts of sympathetic pain racking through their bodies. Their faces went pale, sweat pouring, eyes rolling back slightly. They wouldn't be summoning those spirits again anytime soon; the drain, the shock to their cores, was immense.
They stared at Lloyd, not with anger now, but with raw, naked terror. What was he? Iron manipulation? Fine wires? And now… launching spinning metal death-orbs from his bare hands? This wasn't just a tricky lordling; this was a monster.
"Any further objections?" Lloyd asked quietly, the cloud of fine wires still swirling gently around him, a silent promise of more pain to come. He held another spinning, faintly humming steel bullet loosely in his palm, letting them see it.
That was the final straw.
"N-no! None!" the leader choked out, scrambling backwards, tripping over his own feet in his haste. "We're leaving! We're gone! Didn't see nuthin'!"
"Yeah! Gone!" echoed the other two, practically crawling away before finding their legs and breaking into a desperate, stumbling run back towards the direction they came, casting terrified glances over their shoulders.
"A message for your employer!" Lloyd called after their retreating backs, his voice carrying easily. "Tell whoever sent you – Rubel or otherwise – that the next time they send dogs, they should expect to lose them. Permanently."
They didn't slow down, just ran harder, vanishing into the whispering grass like startled rabbits.
Lloyd watched them go, the steel bullet in his hand dissolving back into latent energy. He let the cloud of wires around him dissipate as well, feeling the strain ease slightly. The improvised bullets had worked, surprisingly well. Crude, definitely not optimized, but effective. Another tool for the arsenal. Combining Void shaping with Spirit Power propulsion… interesting potential there.
He looked down at Fang, who gave a tired but satisfied 'woof', nudging his hand. "Yeah," Lloyd agreed, scratching the wolf behind the ears. "Idiots." He surveyed the now-quiet field, the ten sheep carcasses waiting. "Right. Let's secure this site and figure out how to get paid without ending up cursed or broke." The hunt was over, but the work, as always, was just beginning.