78 Just a Touris

Tyr turned the handle to the door slowly so it would make as little sound as possible. No one noticed him slip into the room. On the other side of the door, there was another guard who had his back turned to him. He used the butt of the pole to hit the guard in the back of her head and caught her before she fell to the floor. He carried her behind some barrels while keeping to the shadows. Tyr made his way towards the back of the room. He could see the three ramidrejus who attacked the tavern speaking with a large ramidreju who had large rings on his fingers.

"Hey! What are you doing in here!" a guard shouted. Everyone turned to look in the direction the guard pointed. Tyr frowned. He did not see that small guard sitting to his side behind the barrel.

The laborers returned to their work. They did not seem worried that this would affect them. The fear of not meeting their upcoming deadline was a bigger threat to them.

The guards instantly surrounded Tyr. Some carried machetes while others used clubs or brass knuckles. They smirked, and a few taunted him. The large ramidreju stood up and crossed the room. He studied Tyr, looking up and down. His deep rich voice commanded them, "Kill him."

The swarm raised their weapons but Tyr smashed the end of his pole into the ground. The ground cracked, and the aftershock caused the mob to stumble. As they got up, Tyr inhaled deeply and focused his power so it surged through his body. He did not have his usual weapons, armor, or Aži, so this fight had to be done differently than he would have liked. Most of the magic Tyr knew was linked with his wyvern or channeled with his lances.

Tyr picked up a fallen ramidreju by its ankle and tossed him into the corner with the barrels. Purple powder burst from the caskets and covered the floor. It created a purple cloud that hung in the corner.

Three guards ran at Tyr and he scraped the end of the pole against the ground. The stone floor rose up like a wave and the rubble caused the three to fly in the corner with the purple haze. Tyr preferred to put all the guards in one spot so it would be easier to fight them.

Tyr kicked two more into the corner before turning to face the others. The rest of them charged at him. One of them whipped a chain at Tyr. Seeing the chain flying towards him, he held out his forearm and forced the chain to wrap around it. He then grabbed the links and pulled it out of the original wielder's hands. Tyr swung it around his head and whipped it across the six other attackers. The links slapped them all across their faces and a few fangs fell onto the floor.

Continuing with the momentum that the chain had, Tyr spun the chain up his arm, so it covered his fists. He wanted to use it as a makeshift gauntlet. One of the attackers came at him with a machete. He used the makeshift gauntlet to blocked the machete with one arm while fighting two other attackers with the pole in his other hand.

Tyr jumped behind the seven ramidreju who were left and held his metal pole out so it was horizontal to the floor. He focused his energy into his leg and kicked the pole at them. It knocked them all off their feet and flung them into the corner.

The machete that had fallen to the ground. He picked up the blade and turned to face the leader. "Alarico I presume?" He strolled leisurely towards Alarico and spun the machete effortlessly in his right hand. As the machete cut through the air, it created a slicing sound.

Alarico cowered, fear spread across his face. He had never seen a fighter this good before. "Who are you? How much do you want?", he demanded. He did not understand why someone so skilled would be in Jimbaran. He owned this part of the city and no one ever dared to attack him on his turf. Not even the police dared to come down here.

No emotion played on Tyr's face. Macha's pained face flashed into his mind. "I'm just a tourist. Your gang attacked someone I care about." His eyes were the color of frozen grass on a winter's morning. He thought about all the lives that were ruined because of the drugs they produced. A cold anger surged through his chest. It did not matter where you were, drugs had a way of poisoning a community.

Alarico stood behind the three who attacked the tavern. He did not even see the machete move, but three heads rolled to the floor. They blinked for a second before settling into a frozen state.

Tyr led the war on drugs in Marseille three hundred years ago. He knew if he was not thorough, the gang would just produce the drug again. Gangs were like hydras if you only removed the head it would continue to grow back. Sometimes removing the leader causes more leaders to be produced. It was important to eliminate the whole thing.

Alarico witnessed his death in Tyr's eyes. He realized he could not bargain with this man. Instead of dying to Tyr's hands he took out a knife and stabbed himself in the head. He refused to give this stranger the satisfaction of killing him.

Tyr did not expect Alarico to kill himself. Usually, the people at the top would try to offer money, then bargain, and finally beg for their life. He watched the blood from Alarico's head creep across the floor. Memories of how bad the drug problem in Marseille was after the war for independence filled his head. The corruption had seeped into some noble families and King Njord ordered whole families to be executed in the night.

A loud snarl came from behind him and Tyr whipped his head around. The mob that attacked him earlier ran towards him, foam dripping from their mouths and blood flowing from their eyes. They seemed faster than before.

A few of the workers screamed and the mob's heads snapped towards the direction of the noise. Their snouts sniffed the air, and they descended upon the workers, ripping arms and legs off while devouring them alive.

Tyr had seen nothing like this before. He had fought undead, but they did not move like this. They were generally slower and drawn to your life-force, not sound. This drug was dangerous, and he decided to burn the place down. He refused to allow any of these creatures to leave. Tyr was unsure if the ones they killed would rise up as well.

Tyr stood still and did not make a sound as he drew in the heat of the room and magnified it. He used his body as a conductor, holding back as much heat as he could. This was the same spell he used when he faced Ivan. This room was much bigger, so it took a longer time. Ice formed and the steam from the vats dropped like snow to the tables. When he reached the maximum amount of heat he could hold, Tyr released the energy and the room exploded into flames. The vats shattered and the bodies and creatures flew across the floor.

As flames engulfed the entire room, Tyr walked around, checking to ensure the fire would consume everything. He held his breath, not wanting to breathe in any of the smoke. The mob continued to move until their flesh fell from their bones and their bodies became nothing but ash.

Tyr opened the door to the warehouse and walked into the hallway. The guard he knocked out earlier still lay on the ground and he picked him up. The chain was still wrapped around his arm, so he used it to tie up the man. Only after he was far from the heat did Tyr, release the spell of fire protection that he used on himself.

He made his way to the room with the cages; he knew it was safe now, so he wanted to get them medical assistance. When he opened the door, he heard the crunching sound of bone and ripping of flesh. All the captives were turned. They had devoured the gang members he had knocked out and looked hungrily at him from their cages. Holding back the urge to lop off their heads, he turned around and closed the door. They would be important for research on the effects of the drug.

He stared at the wall after closing the door. This vacation strayed far from the one he had envisioned. Frustrated, he kicked the wall a few times, creating a crater. When he got home, he would have to tell Freyr about what he learned and file more paperwork. "Aaargh!" he screamed, his voice echoed through the empty hallways.