CRACK!

The whip glanced off of Jumpy’s back, leaving a long, red line behind. Rasmurnov raised the whip again. Though he was clearly very unhappy with the whole affair, his face was stony and inscrutable.

CRACK!

Jumpy yelped. His whole body was trembling and shaking, a bit like Solera had been when he was shot by the channelers using the strange needle-wires.

“Apart from the specialized, you have the highest power purity here.” Rasmurnov said as he lifted the whip up.

CRACK!

“So if your soul is the most powerful, then why are you so stupid.” It was a question, but spoken as a statement.

CRACK!

Jumpy was screaming incoherently. He and Rasmurnov were in the middle of the lake within the valley. On the shores and on the ridges higher up was everyone; the villagers, the soldiers, and the prisoners. They watched silently as Rasmurnov lashed Jumpy again.

CRACK!

His back was covered with blood now, like Solera’s had been when he had been punished by Rasmurnov. Solera looked on, his face nearly as expressionless as Rasmurnov’s. This freak had roasted the man to death, yet all he got was a few strikes to the back. Solera himself had gotten the same punishment for much, much less.

CRACK!

“My name’s Jumpy, my name’s Jumpy! Please stop, please stop, please stop it…” The whip whistled through the air another time.

CRACK!

“Hmph.” Rasmurnov took out a rag from his breast pocket and began cleaning his bloodied whip. “You delinquents are foolish beyond belief. If I had not gotten us assigned to transport duty, half of you would be dead and half of you would have some sense. I have been too lenient, and this is the result.”

He trudged out of the water, shaking his head.

“Suffice it to say that any further transgressions will not be tolerated.”

With that, the prisoners were led back down the mountain and back on the trail. Solera’s expression was dark, while Lem was uncharacteristically silent.

“It’s not fair.” Lem finally mumbled, after they had gone around four kilometers. “He killed someone. He should be dead.”

Solera snorted. “It wasn’t fair when I got whipped, either.” The world wasn’t fair, and neither was Rasmurnov.

“Yeah.” Lem’s face was downcast. Solera could see the faint shine of tears on the bottom of his eyelids. “I just wish something could be done about it.”

Solera nodded, but didn’t say anything, so they fell back into silence.

Wishing something could be done about it? Of course someone like Lem could only ever wish something could be done. He was too weak to do anything else. As for himself… well, maybe there was some merit in saying that he was powerful. He did have the power crystal, after all.

Verdant power flowed out of the crystal and into his channels at every moment of the day. If he stored it up, he could kill Jumpy with ease. Indeed, the thought had crossed his mind several hundred times in the hours since the young man had been incinerated.

But it wasn’t just that he could do something. He needed to be able to deal with the consequences as well. And how would the power crystal help him with that? Even during the first time he had used it, at Fortress Hickory when it had been at full charge, it had only allowed him to kill three men. Though it was true that if he rationed the power rather than blowing it all in one strike, there was simply no way he could take on an entire battalion of channelers. Even an immortal would be hard-pressed to do that. Not to mention, he had never again attained full charge with the power crystal since that very first time.

Well, he didn’t have to take on an entire battalion. Couldn’t he just kill Jumpy and run? But then that brought up the escape plan again, which he had decided was far too difficult, even if he didn’t add on the task of assassinating someone.

It wasn’t right, though. And it wasn’t all about injustice. What was to say that Jumpy wasn’t going to do such a thing again? Rasmurnov was clearly a weak leader who, as he himself had said, was too lenient. Even though Helga said the man was “respected” and whatnot, his subordinates clearly did not assign much weight to his orders. The old woman had told Rasmurnov to keep them under heavy guard, and yet children were taking turns rappelling down into the middle of the dungeon. It was absurd how much his orders were flouted, and his meager punishments only encouraged more wrongdoing. Something had to be done before another one of them was killed. Before he was killed.

The fact of the matter, though, remained that Solera was unlikely to get away with such a thing. It was simply too impractical. With Jakovich, Rasmurnov had just assumed he had died to wolves or the avalanche or fleeing summoners or something. That time, Solera actually had an alibi. Even more importantly, they had been pressed for time. But now, the hyenas were heading away from them. Maybe they would encounter bandits again, but he knew that the hyena attack was already a very rare occurrence. No, but those bandits had intentionally attacked them. Who was to say it wouldn’t happen again?

Solera looked frustratedly at the ground. He just didn’t know what to do. Too many factors, such a hard decision…

Be decisive.

He had to be decisive.

Solera blinked. Yes, he had to be decisive. Every time he had been in a fight, it had been decisiveness which had saved his life. He already knew that. Even outside of the fights, being decisive kept him sane. Yet here he was, vacillating over the decision of to kill or not to kill.

His entire life, he had always been dithering. Stumbling on his words, fudging up his thoughts. Just like now. Always letting someone else make the decisions for him. Vinoh and Chianti… he had always followed them mindlessly. But now, they weren’t there anymore.

Now that they were gone, he had to be independent.

Solera could no longer blindly follow as he once had. He had to think clearly for himself, because the only people now who gave him orders were his enemies. People who had no interest in his wellbeing.

Now that he was here, he had to face reality.

Jumpy had killed someone. Rasmurnov had promised due punishment, yet all he did was whip Jumpy several times. He himself had been whipped for breaking somebody’s nose! Did Rasmurnov think that a broken nose was equivalent to a dead man? Of course not! The simple reason was that Rasmurnov had no interest in the wellbeing of Solera or any of the other prisoners.

This was reality, and these were the facts.

Solera had been following Rasmurnov’s orders. All the prisoners had, to a greater degree than even Rasmurnov's own men, and yet one was still killed. Rasmurnov had promised to be fair, and yet he was blatantly partial.

Since Rasmurnov was unjust, then it was up to him to be just.

This was injustice, but not only that. Jumpy was insane. He had to die, or else he would kill again. And that was a more important reason to act than to address injustice. A practical reason.

To properly reach a decision, he had to be practical.

If he was patient, an opportunity to strike would reveal itself. They were visiting more villages, weren’t they? Could it be that every single village would have such a vast dungeon complex? Of course not! Rasmurnov was an incompetent and so were his underlings. At some point, security would loosen up again. Besides, nobody liked Jumpy anyway. He could easily set it up so that it was another guard or even a villager who had killed him, and people would believe it. There might not even be any motivation to investigate Jumpy’s death.

He had to be the one.

Because Lem was powerless, he could do nothing but cry over another’s death. When compared to the larger context, Solera was the same. But he didn’t have to consider the big picture, because as Lem had said the day before, it wasn’t relevant. What he had to worry about was the problem right in front of him, and that was an aberration of a human whose name was Jumpy. He could kill Jumpy. He could prevent more deaths from occurring. He had to. If he didn’t do it, then who would? The only person Solera could rely on was himself. The only person he controlled was himself.

So he had to be decisive.

Life was just one, long, life-and-death battle. Just as in life-and-death battles, Solera could not hesitate in life. He had to be decisive.

A flame of determination lit in Solera’s eyes as he reached his decision. It may not be today. It may not be tomorrow. But the first opportunity he got, he would do the logical thing, the moral thing. The thing which he could only trust himself to do.

He would put Jumpy down.