Strongest Grimoire Of The Gods

The shield on Malon's arm shifted, turning into a different variant. It continued, going from a blocky square to a diamond shape, and then to a full circle. It even became several smaller shields before splitting into two and creating one large shield on each wrist.

Malon looked at his own hands shift and transform as he spoke: "I gained control of this ability quite early on. I was a talent before my brother gained his Ancestral Ability. Even though his control over it is still not as good as mine, who would choose an idiot who can make shields over one who can make spikes..."

"Well, I don't care either way. As long as you're powerful and aren't a total piece of dog shit, you're good in my book." Tyr retorted with his hands on his hips.

"Yeah... we all choose you over him. You know that, Malon." A voice echoed from the cell to the left of Malon's.

"True..."

"Life would be great if you were chosen."

"Lord Ma-ne would have chosen you regardless."

"My family wouldn't have to work in the mines."

"Mine would still be alive..."

More and more voices added to Malon's comment.

Tyr looked around, his brows furrowed as he thought to himself: 'I thought everyone here was some deranged criminal. But now that I take a closer look, most just seem to be basic citizens who pissed off that prick.' It wasn't amusing to see all of this around him. It kind of pissed Tyr off.

"So... why did you call me in the first place?" He questioned, shrugging off that annoyed feeling. It wasn't like he could do anything about it right now.

"Eh... I've been in here for a month and I'll be in here for 3 months longer. I need someone to talk to!" Malon exclaimed excitedly as though he had been deprived of conversation for ages.

"I see..." Tyr went back to the center of his cell and continued doing push-ups.

"I guess talking won't hurt." He exclaimed, causing Malon's smile to enlarge as a genuine relief washed over his pupils.

"Perfect!"

...

*The next morning*

"And that's how my people came to know me as the dragon slayer," Malon said, his tone fierce and arrogant.

"Because you killed a Wild Rank Lizard?" Tyr replied, unimpressed.

"Dude! I was only 16! Cut me some slack."

"I'm 15 right now and I can do better."

Malon paused, his nostrils flaring in shock: "Really!? Damn... I was lying too. I killed that thing when I turned 20. Anyways, you looked way too strong for a 15-year-old. What are you eating?

Unstable pills by the boatload?" He said in a slightly joking manner.

"I look strong huh? Yeah, my body just packs on muscle like crazy. Genetics man, you gotta get lucky." Tyr proclaimed with a smug expression.

'Master... you lied.' Rudra relayed telepathically.

'Sometimes, Rudra, you gotta lie and let the soul breathe.'

"Anyways, why does everyone keep talking about Unstable pills? What even are they?"

"You don't know what Unstable pills are?" Malon raised a brow in confusion, "Jeez man... they're illegal, thats the most important thing to know. Pills that alchemists fail to condense and stabilize, hence their name. But nowadays criminals are making them on purpose to sell."

"Why? Are they more effective or something?"

"Oh yeah... their power isn't stabilized or condensed, so instead of having to manually absorb it through techniques to strengthen your Aura Core, it hits you all at once and gives you immense power for a short burst. Abusing it can potentially have permanent effects on your body too, both positively and negatively. The only thing is...

it comes with a lot of goddamn side effects--the biggest of which is fucking death. They say it's over 70% chance that you die from taking even one... 90% on average if you don't have an Aura Core."

"They sound interesting," Tyr said, thinking to himself about how potentially lucrative they could be if somehow made safe. His eyes moved the side.

Malon furrowed his brows in suspicion on seeing this: "You sure you aren't on them?" He said, actually a bit worried.

"What? No man..."

"Hey!" A loud and rough voice echoed through the halls. "Breakfast, ya' old cunts. Get up!" A guard pushing a trolley exclaimed. He was tall, just like Mano and Malon.

A bunch of manly groans, yawns, and silent complaints filled the dungeon.

The guard made his way down the hall of cells, stopping momentarily to toss food at the inmates.

Tyr quickly noticed, however, that the moosh stopped longer for some prisoners--throwing their bowls of food at them.

A few attempted to shout back in anger:

"Hey!"

"What the fuck was that for!?"

But they were quickly shut down, "Shut up! Lest you want no food for the next week... pahaha! Imbeciles." The moosh exclaimed with a laugh, continuing down the hall.

Tyr clenched his teeth, 'He throws them only at those who aren't mooshs.' He noted.

After a few minutes, he arrived at Tyr's cell. He stared the boy up and down with a mean glare.

"You're getting let out in about 5 minutes... how about out with a bang?" He grinned.

"Don't throw--" Tyr couldn't even get his words out before the guard tossed a bowl of green liquid all over his face.

Tyr stood silently as the bowl rattled against the ground, the liquid slowly trickling down his face.

The guard sized him up, "Damn red-skin scum. You all are only good for--" Out of nowhere, he felt a tiredness take over his body, as though he was about to faint.

'Hypnosis. Come closer...'

The guard's eyes turned a hazy blue color as he took a step toward the cell bars.

*WOOSH*

Tyr grabbed his neck with force, squeezing it with all his strength as he stared at the guard with enraged eyes.

His forearm muscles bulged as his veins pushed at his skin from the intense squeezing.

The guard's face quickly turned red like a cherry tomato--looking like it was about to pop as veins popped up everywhere on it as well.

Finally, the blue haze left the guard's eyes as he realized what was going on and began to struggle.

"Argh! Khh! Cak!" He exclaimed in pain and suffocation, his bloodshot eyes nearly popping out of his socket as he scratched and pulled at Tyr's fingers.

This occurred for two seconds, which felt like a lifetime. Finally, the moosh stopped struggling, his eyes slowly panning to look straight into Tyr's horrible gaze.

He could feel his life slowly being sapped out of him.

As soon as he made direct eye contact with the boy, he saw a slight, almost unnoticeable smile play on Tyr's lips--sending waves of chills up his back before his neck was crushed and torn.

Tyr let go, the guard's body slumping onto the floor.

[You have slain La Kinel (Novice Rank Moosh).]

...