As Kir descended on the campsites, the fighting began to quiet down.
The very aura of his mana was visible even to mundane eyes - if only as a white flame surrounding his flaming, angelic wings. The authority that power gave him announced to all that he had been the arbiter of death this day, so when he called for leaders, they came. When he commanded the former slaves to bring any prisoners before him, they did.
His attack had been thorough against the Elevated. There was only one Elevated prisoner remaining. One who had been pummeled unconscious despite regenerating even the wing that Kir had severed.
The rest of the prisoners were slavers - and not many of them - and a larger body of people who wore white or grey robes. The former came in chains or tied with rope, but the latter were merely shepherded, their hands unbound.
Though he wanted to study the Elevated more, the man spat at the offer Kir made to spare his life provided he became a hostage to the demons.
