companion’s blades, cutting them with their own allies. He barely needed to use his own swords because the enemy was doing all the work for him.
Cora had asked him to spare lives, but Brocke knew he couldn't do that. There was no turning men who had already sided with maniacs like Condor. Every man he left alive would be a threat to someone less skilled with blades than he was.
The best Brocke could do was give them the mercy of a quick death that none of the warriors deserved. His twin blades cut through the air, perfect strikes aimed just deeply enough to spill the enemies' guts out without wasting a breath. Brocke couldn't bring himself to think any more of the men he fought than that – a waste of his time. Crimson blood pooled around Brocke's feet as one by one, the warriors fell, with none of them learning anything from the deaths of their companions.
Not even a minute had passed before Brocke stood over six corpses and one man whose hearts still beat in his chest. The idiot tried to crawl away from him with one broken leg.
The guardian ached to deliver justice to that one as well as the others, but Brocke needed him.
The crawling stopped when the man suddenly found the shining, blood-splattered blade of Brocke's sword inches from his right eye. He froze in place, barely daring to breathe.
"Name," Brocke said, his deep voice betraying exactly how much he wanted to deliver the final blow.
The warrior must have heard it too, judging by the way his face turned several shades paler.
"Hemak, Guardian," the man wheezed.
"Hemak," Brocke repeated. "Your name shall be erased from all scrolls of honor. I will give one chance to tell me what I need to know. Or else the last record of your miserable existence will be your name written in your blood, right where you lie now until rain washes away every trace of you into the gutters."
It occurred to Brocke he should have been more lenient, because Hemak looked like he had completely forgotten every word he knew.
Cora was coming closer, her beautiful eyes wide, looking at the carnage. As justified as Brocke knew his judgment had been, the guardian would have given everything not to have her see it.
"Drains..." Hemak was whispering. "The drains."
That said nothing to Brocke.
“Stand,” he ordered Tomeh, who was still laying on the ground where he'd thrown himself. “Do you know what he's talking about?"
The supervisor hesitantly rose to his feet, trembling from head to toe.
"I am not sure, Guardian," Tomeh sputtered. "I wanted to tell you before. I never agreed to any of this, I – "
"Keep your apologies for the Militant. I want answers," Brocke growled.
"Yes, Guardian," Tomeh said at once, his hands pleadingly raised in front of him. "There have been strange things going on here. I know what he refers to, but I never dared to go and look – "
Brocke's look silenced Tomeh, but made the man on the ground plead.
"Kill me now," Hemak asked. "I told you what I know."
Cora's hazel eyes were filled with pain as she looked at the man.
"Brocke," she said then. "If he's in that much pain..."
"He is not," Brocke replied, knowing exactly what kind of wounds he'd inflicted. "He's not begging because he wants to die, not because he's sorry. He thinks once I see what's out there, I will make him suffer."
The whine from Hemak proved that guess and Cora's eyes flared in disgust. Brocke kicked Hemak's swords away from him and made him limp before them with Tomeh leading the way.
Following his lead, walking away from the complex, Cora quietly asked, “Can we trust him?”
“It doesn’t matter," Brocke replied. "As long as he leads us to someone who knows where Condor is, it makes no difference to me whether it’s a trap or not.”
“It sure matters to me ,” Cora argued as loudly as she dared.
“I will protect you,” Brocke assured her.
“That’s very nice of you and all,” Cora said, although she was smiling a little. “But I would prefer not to deliver