Tar
Henry was all fine and good with more weird terminology being thrown around, but with all of it they weren't any closer to actual insight about the crime. So how the situation stood was far more people in a recent crime scene than there was any right to be, pretty much throwing haphazard suppositions while waiting for a recommended expert (or at least someone who in all likelihood wasn't as much in over her head, but in Nexus City you never knew). The japanese magus was one thing, since Saber had asked her in, but the investigative official of an authority from a different world who did not have much to add and had invited himself in was another.
The less people to muck up the place, the better. And they were expecting more to come still, so it would be for the best if the area was vacated of who it was reasonable. So Henry Bartow roughly 'ahem'-d into his hand, calling Grendel's attention before speaking.
"Well, mister Grendel, your opinion on the subject is much appreciated and will be taken into consideration, but", he flashed him a crooked professional smile, "We are still analyzing the crime scene so I'll have you leave now."
Almost exaggeratedly, he gave the man's back an encouraging slap to move on.
"Ask one of the officers to direct you to the police station or the closest hotel on the way out. If you're new here it's better if you settle down for the night or ask for more information."
Grendel gives the man a strange look, then the tiredness from everything he's gone through recently hits him. Combined with the drain from the STIMM starting to work its way out of his system, he found he agreed with what the man had to say.
"Yes," he says, stifling a yawn, "I suppose it would be good idea to retire for the night. Good day, Arbites."
He starts to leave, before something occurs to him, a faint sensation, like a feeling he just couldn't shake.
"Far be it from me to offer prophecies, but I have the feeling that this scene shall be receiving far more visitors than you would like it to."
With that, Grendel leaves the scene, with one of the officers escorting him back to the station.
“We were attacked by a strange man who shot spears of light at Rider. He maimed her horse. Now, I’m sorry to say, but it’s late, and you’ve caused quite a disturbance. Have a good night.”
Faust shut the door, and made his way back up the stairs, intending on checking on Sakura.
Adjutor says nothing as the door closes, standing for a few moments before accepting the reality of the situation with a sigh and slipping into a nearby shadow, wanting nothing more than to find something else to do so he doesn't have to think about anything for the next few minutes. Or hours. Or however long can be managed.
Popping out in some random alley, Adjutor finds what he was looking for. Four beast-man-things feasting on broken and bloody bodies. Sighing once more as he realizes that the Sound-Proofing and Reinforcement are both still in effect, Adjutor allows a slight grin before collecting himself, preparing for a rather impromptu Hunt.
Looking them over, it seems that he's gotten lucky this time around. Only one of them with any magical capabilities. Of course, that one also looks to be the strongest among them.
Four werewolves. Close-quarters. Three scrawny looking ones, likely extremely agile. One burly one. Capable of magic and looks extremely strong otherwise. All four seem to have natural weapons in the form of their claws. They don't haven't spotted us yet.We're standing in a shadow, and this alley has plenty more we can. We have all of the Elementals, and Tyrfing about twenty bodies of blood and twenty-four souls in reserve. Our own prana reserves are low, not enough to Armor up. Don't want to rely on Shield being as powerful as it was, as we have don't know how that effect came about and it seems to have faded by now. We're Sound-Proofed and Reinforced, but we don't know their exact physical capabilities.They seem distracted by their current meal, and there's no point to interrupting them. Nobody that can be saved if we act now. Wait, it's snowing. We can use that.We can consume a soul to bring ourselves up to an acceptable level of mana, but we're still not too far from exhaustion. The close-quarters will make Rahab's and Laivatain's attacks difficult to avoid, but this will also work against us, as we won't have full range with the Armogarians or Laivatain. Wait, it's snowing. More material for Rahab.In summary, out-numbered 4-to-1, partially advantageous terrain, element of surprise.In summary, out-fitted for a surprise attack, fatigued, at a safe distance, almost fully-equipped, but in no condition for a hard fight.Taking into account the positions of the four, Adjutor slowly draws Tyrfing and Rahab. Sound-Proofed doesn't mean invisible, and neither does standing in the shadows, and Adjutor thinks one of the scrawny ones starts to notice right before the hail of ice spears starts...
Adjutor staggers out of the alley exactly five minutes later, outfit soaked in his own blood.
Disemboweled twice, impaled once. That was sloppy.Well, we got more than enough blood to make up for it.Wasn't expecting them
to shake off impalement like that.They're werewolves. We were probably supposed to use silver or something like that.I don't know. I mean, draining them dry of blood seems to work well enough.After you impale them to the point where they can't move, sure. And I don't think the magic-user was expecting you to destroy his spell and blast his friends away in the same move.I think it was his friends being blasted that he wasn't expecting.Adjutor reaches for the still bloody wounds, staring at the crimson palm for a second before frowning at the mess and dragging his hand along a nearby wall in a futile attempt to clean it off.
"Ah, fuck it," Adjutor mutters to himself, leaving a trail of blood upon the light dusting of snow that's fallen upon the path.
Do you think you'd be willing to consider what you've done now?Fuck.Him again? It's fairly obvious we screwed up, so you don't need to go pointing it out.Then why are you trying to distance yourself from it?Because we'll need some time to cool our heads.You sure? I mean, it's nothing too complicated. If you were that worried about being followed, you could have taken a roundabout path to your destination.The mana trail lead us straight there, and I wouldn't have found it without that.Then move past your destination as if it's just an unexpected obstacle and loop back around later. There was literally no need to shadow walk in.Neither Adjutor nor Xarrest have anything to say, wandering aimlessly through the city, eventually leaving the general area behind.
I mean, I'll admit, that Sorcerer was pretty trigger happy, but you didn't really help your case. I mean, you barged into his house and demanded an explanation...Okay, okay. We get it. We fucked up. How many more times are you going to tell us about this?Until you can correct this tendency of yours....Seriously, though. Who the hell are you?We've been over this already. Weren't you listening?Your answer didn't make sense. What do you mean you're 'all that's left?' For that matter, all that's left of what?I hope you never find out. Honestly, this is something you don't want to know.Really? After all...Really?!Positive. Unless you want to find out where this ideal can take you.If you're going to tell me the tale of being betrayed by one of the people I tried to help or some bullshit like that, I am going to fucking exorcise you.Hah. No, nothing quite so...pleasant, I suppose.How is that pleasant?Because in that case, it only turns out bad if your ideal becomes your personal hell. No, this is far simpler.You're not going to tell me, are you?I've no need. You're too far. Besides, if all goes well, I should never have to tell you.Better question, do we want to know how you know our names?Soul-wavy, trans-dimensional bullshit....You're kidding, right?Of course, I just can't be bothered to explain something you hopefully won't need to know.Xarrest, you've been awfully quiet.I'm keeping us from tripping over our own feet, you're not all too steady right now.Blood loss is still a thing, even if you can heal it with a thought.How do y-Soul waves...Fuck you. Fuck you both. My god, if I have to listen to any more of this, I'm fucking leavi-gah!At this point, Adjutor walks into something large, solid, and immovable. Upon closer inspection, this object reveals itself to be a concrete wall. Said wall seem to actually be part of a greater concrete structure.
...Should at least be a decent windbreaker. We could probably-No, we aren't shadow-walking inside.Well, at least you're still a quick study.Fuck off.Deciding to at least check if the building is inhabited, Adjutor makes his way up the nearby stairs and knocks on the door.
No response.
After a few more times, Adjutor gives up on the door, making his way back down the stair case, removing the sheathes, and sitting up against the wall, bracing against a nearby ramp to keep from sliding down to the floor. After a moment's consideration, Adjutor unsheathes Laivatain, the elemental blade igniting in a decently warming blaze. Thus securely, Adjutor leans up against the convenient corner, curling up to reduce the effect of the chill. As an afterthought, he gathers some mana together and quickly patches up what few wounds he has left, resolving to take the time to perform a proper healing later.
Thus secured, the teen soon drifts off to a restless sleep, the area around him a bit of a mess from his recently staunched wounds.
