Six Of Foxes (Six Foxes)

Ken 3's

"What's that?" Whisper Ken.

    "Torvegen," said Reader softly. "To run it, you don't need a horse. They're still perfecting the design while I'm gone."

    "No need for horses?"

    "Tank," murmured Tera. "I saw the prototype when I was working with the weapons master at Ru Kraine. Inside the dome, there was more than one rifle. And a big muzzle in that part? The firepower is solid."

    In the confinement, there are also heavy artillery guns that utilize the force of gravity, shelves full of weapons, ammunition, and small black bombs called grenatye by the Juwel people. On the wall behind the glass, the older weapons were neatly displayed - axes, spears, long bows. On it, lay a silver-white banner: MARK DUSHENKAN.

    When Ken glanced at Reader, the big man muttered, "Mandraguna Bearchen."

    Ken squinted at the thick glass. He knew the full range of defence and concluded that Silva was right, this glass was the work of the bullet-resistant and impenetrable Fabricator. While in or out of prison, prisoners would see weapons, ammunition, war machines - whose brutality reminded them of the power of the country of Barchen.

Please show off, Ken thought. It's free to be heavily armed if you don't know where to direct it.

    Across the street, behind the confinement glass, he saw the second titian being traced by female prisoners.

    Krista's gonna be okay. Ken needs to stay alert. They are now in enemy territory, a very dangerous place. Without full ingenuity and concentration, it is impossible to escape from here. Did Frederic's team get this far before they got caught? And Rav Frederic himself where? Did he sit in peace and quiet in Kalterville, or did he become a prisoner of Barchen as well?

    All of that is not important. For now, Ken must focus his attention on their plan and find Erikson. He glanced at the others. Reyn seems to be wetting his head. The reader looked somber as usual. Tera whispered, "Gee, we managed to throw ourselves into the safest prison in the world. Either we're geniuses or twill*t the most tol*l ever breathed air."

    "We'll know the answer soon."

    They were led into another white room, the others equipped with cans and hoses.

    the guard said something in Barchen, then Ken saw Reader and some of the other prisoners starting to undress. Ken swallowed the bile fluid that rose into his esophagus. He was vomiting.

    He certainly can-he should. He thought of Keiko. What would Keiko say if her sister lost the opportunity to collect justice for not being able to conquer the stupid nausea inside her? However, thinking of Keiko meant remembering her cold flesh, her skin that was sagging in the saltwater, the bodies that swarmed her in the flat-peeled lake. Ken's vision began to blur.

    Control yourself, Lunark, he scolded himself fiercely. Reprimand did not help. He'll pass out again and then, it's all over. Krista offers to teach him how to fall. "The bottom line is not to fall," Ken said with a laugh. "No, Ken," said Krista. "The point is how to get up again." Again Zemeni's words of pearl, but somehow remembering Krista's voice helped. He's tougher than this one. Gotta be. Not just for Keiko's sake, but for his crew. He brought these people here. He brought Krista here. He's in charge of getting them out of here.

    The point is how to wake up again. Ken maintained Krista's voice in his head, repeating those words, time and time again, while he took off his boots, clothes, and finally gloves.

    He saw Tera watching his hand. "What do you expect?" hardik Ken's.

    "The claws, at least," Tera said as she turned her gaze to her own squeaky bare feet. "Maybe thorny thumbs."

    The guards returned after disposing of their clothes into a barrel that would undoubtedly be taken to the combustion furnace. The guard tilted Ken's head back violently and forced him to open his mouth, then bribed his mouth back and forth with a fat finger. The black spots were splattered on Ken's vision while he struggled to stay sober. The guard's finger passed through a gap in Ken's tooth where he slipped Baloon, then pinched and stabbed the inside of his cheek.

    When he came out, drenched and shivering, another guard gave Ken an immaculate jailer's trousers and tunic from a pile beside him. Ken put on the clothes, then hobbled into the detention area along with the other prisoners. At that moment, he was willing to give up half of his reward rations for the sake of feeling the weight of his familiar wand.

    The temporary holding cell was more like the prison he had imagined - there were no white stones or glass panels, only damp gray stones and iron bars.

    They are then transported into a full cell. The reader sat back against the wall, his eyes set on the pacing of men. Ken buttressed to the iron bars while watching the guards who were away. He could feel the body behind him. The available space is sufficient, but still too crowded. Just hold on for a little while, Ken said inwardly. His hands seemed empty.

    Ken's waiting. He knows what's going to happen. He had already assessed the others as soon as they entered the cell and knew how many would come to him was the big-marked Knuddelbar. The man was agitated, bully, and very brightly watching Ken's limp leg.

    "Hey, limp" said the Knuddelbar in the Barchen language. He tried again in Kalterville, his accent thick. "Hey, disability." He doesn't have to bother. Ken knows the word limp in many languages.

    The next moment, Ken felt the air move as the Knuddelbar reached him. He stepped to the left and staggered the Knuddelbar forward, carried away by his own momentum. Ken helps by grabbing the man's arm and cramming it into the bars, all the way to his shoulder. The Knuddelbar man groaned loudly as his face hit the bars.

    Ken pinned the man's forearm to the iron. He pressed his weight against the opponent's body and felt a satisfying burst as the Knuddelbar's arm slipped from his body. As the man opened his mouth to scream, Ken covered his mouth with one hand and clamped his nose with the other. As soon as his finger came into contact with the naked skin, he felt like vomiting.

    "Sssst," said Ken, using a grip on the man's nose to dribble back up to a bench that docked to the wall. The other prisoners were forced to open the road.

    The man slammed into the bench, his eyes watering, his breath fluttering. Ken kept his nose and mouth. The man Knuddelbar trembled under his grip.

    "You want me to fix it?" ask Ken.

    The Knuddelbar whimpering.

    "You, no?"

    The man whimpered louder while the other prisoners watched.

    "If you scream, I'll make sure your arm can't be worn again, okay?"

    Ken let go of the man's mouth and stuffed his arm back into the joint. The Knuddelbar rolled to the side, curled up on the bench and began to cry.

    Ken rubbed his hands into his trousers and returned to his place in the bars. He could feel the other eye, but now he knew he wouldn't be disturbed.

    Van's approaching. "What just happened is really necessary?"

    "No." Others let them do whatever they have to do and remind themselves that he is still empowered.