Vale was already determined to see this to the end. So you are the thieves.
Torin nodded and watched him carefully as he said, "They stole your starsalt, so why don't you punish them? Kill them!"
The workers whimpered and moaned at the words, pressing closer to the wall and holding each other tightly.
Tiber grappled Slya tighter to prevent her from going forward and doing who knew what. "Let's see how he handles things. It's none of our business."
She hissed, "I just want to punch that guy's face."
Vale ignored them and focused only on Torin. "Death as punishment? I agree."
Torin's smile wavered, a cruel light still shining in his eyes. Meanwhile, the two workers looked at Vale in shock, already sobbing as if he had drawn a knife to their necks.
Tiber drew back in surprise, and Slya became still. They hadn't expected this from him either.
Short man Eron let out a snort of surprise. "I wasn't expecting that, for sure!"
Vale shrugged and continued. "But according to my principles, those two are your slaves and fall under your responsibility. Therefore, it is you I will hold responsible for their theft."
A ripple of shock passed through everyone.
The workers stopped crying, staring at him as if he'd lost his mind. Torin's smile disappeared, replaced by hostility and disbelief. "You want to kill me?"
Vale replied calmly, "You said it yourself—death should be the repayment for the troubles you've caused me."
Torin stared at him as if he'd gone mad, and the remaining man beside him sneered. "Why are you talking to him? Just finish him. He's not right in the head."
Without looking away from Torin, Vale asked, "Why do you even steal it? You don't seem to need it."
Torin shrugged and raised his metal rod. Then he slashed to the left, hitting the closer worker—the man. Crack! The man screamed and clutched his broken arm. All the while, Torin maintained eye contact with Vale.
Vale shook his head. "When I was twelve, I killed my first human—a child like me—and my father made me bury her. Then it was a man. Kill them if you want, but you won't go free from touching what's mine."
His anger had cooled, iced over, and turned into a cold thing that filled his veins. He took a step forward, then another.
The goon beside Torin wanted to please him, so he rushed forward, shovel raised to strike Vale's head.
Vale casually lifted his weapon just as the man brought down the shovel. He timed it perfectly; the goon smashed his hand against Vale's pickaxe, shattering fingers as the shovel clattered to the ground.
"My hand! My hand! My hand!"
Tiber stiffened, and Slya narrowed her eyes. Vale knew they realized just how skilled he was with weapons. That move had been timed flawlessly. He wasn't just a scrawny guy.
Disdain flashed across Torin's face, and Vale smiled. "Now, no one will disturb us."
Mentally, Vale sighed. He understood how bullies worked. Now that he had come under Torin's radar, the man wouldn't let him go easily and would only continue planning ways to humiliate and destroy him. He didn't need that in his life right now, so he came to a brutal conclusion: he had to remove the problem once and for all.
"Tiber, do you know our wing leader, Taiwo? Please go to her and tell her that Vale has caused a mess in the wing," he said without taking his eyes off Torin.
Tiber stiffened and looked at the back of Vale's head in shock. "What are you planning to do?"
"Just tell her. She'll be here."
Tiber shared a look with Slya, then shrugged, turning and leaving the tunnel.
Vale shrugged his shoulders. Alright, then.
One reason he was going through with this was to set an example once and for all: he wasn't to be messed with. The second was because he had an advantage. The mining work might be hard, but it had loosened his muscles and reminded him that he had been the top sword fighter in his class. The space was too small for the weapon Torin was using.
From what he could see, Torin had some training. The man gripped his metal rod tighter and then exploded forward, swinging it like a hammer.
Vale didn't try to dodge—it was too narrow. Instead, he met the strike with his pickaxe and waited. As soon as the two metals clashed, he hooked the rod away from himself and moved into his opponent's space.
"Tch!" Torin wasn't a total novice. He quickly threw the rod away and flashed a dagger from his waist.
How did he get that? Vale thought in shock. Now Torin had the advantage. He was faster and more agile in the confined space.
Dust churned as the fight turned chaotic. Vale tried to keep the dagger away from him, but a nasty slice cut his hand as he swung his much heavier weapon around.
He gritted his teeth. Damn it, I shouldn't be struggling against someone like him. I'm a Squire!
His brain made a connection with his core. It was feeble, but enough. Strength flooded through him, and he blurred forward. He swung his weapon with so much force that Torin's head shattered under the blow, and he stumbled, twitching.
Warm blood spurted upward, splashing Vale and everyone around. The workers whimpered and drew back while the two goons began begging for their lives.
But Vale didn't mind them; he was preoccupied with something else. Low in his abdomen, he could feel his core spinning, hungry for essence—a lot of it. Lots and lots of it.