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[h1][u]From the pan and into the fire of spite.[/u][/h1]

The process of healing would go on as usual while events unfolded. Newcomers arrived at the outside perimeter of the area, the weird puppet seems to have been fixed up quickly by the purple cat, who just happened to meet a new friend... all while a sequence of patients kept being fixed while the cleric waited for their conversation to progress.

Eventually, Ultron would restart the flow of their meeting by confirming that they had run out of sources of fresh info, prompting the duke to frown while bandaging someone's arm which had had the clotting powder applied to a wound, keeping it naturally closed, cleaned and now covered.

[COLOR=#2d6870]"Tch... at least exposing that we are being lied to should smoothen the process of having the group work for a better cause"[/COLOR]With a click of the tongue, his tone remained serious if also slightly annoyed at the turn of events, ultimately sighing in resignation at the end of his sentence.

The arrival of someone relating to 'space' and 'marine' together caused the man to focus his attention in their direction, mostly in curiosity at first, but completely stopping the start of his next treatment upon spotting they seemed to be readying a weapon... this could spell trouble if ill-handled, and Negan with the old man weren't the epitome of tactful. [B]Yet things couldn't remain uninterrupted for even a second[/B] as an obviously condescending blue man strut into the scene, calling everyone weaklings...

This in itself didn't matter all too much to the cleric on a personal level, but this individual spelled trouble by the fact that they seemed... [I]unhinged[/I]. Even his slight and automatic empathetic read would give him some modicum of information on people he met if the emotion was strong enough, but this one, [I]it was akin to trying to listen to dozens of different parallel voices at the same time[/I], a fact that only happened when a person's mind was an absolute mess from the start.

Hershel was already standing up, somewhat tensed by this point and getting ready to act while keeping an eye in the direction of the possible trouble in silence... his nerves only eased somewhat at the appearance of a familiar man, someone who called themselves Lucifer. Maybe it was one that remembered, maybe it wasn't, didn't matter, the cleric appreciated their presence, especially as despite being willing to verbally throw down with the blue shit-talker, he also advocated for peace.

Yet, irreversibly the cleric would remain on edge for now, even as he crouched down to attend to another individual, alert to his surroundings and noises and visuals that could be related as an attack of sorts... from either the inside or the outside due to that armored individual originally threatening to blast them... in the middle of this tense scene, one of the pained civilians accidentally dropped the glass vial which contained a mix of water and sleeping powder onto the floor.

And every single concern on camp Avad held at that moment vanished within the time it took for the glass to clank against the concrete under the fabric... the earth-shaking boom rocking the entirety of the first-aid camp, the clanking of supplies and people screaming in confusion and falling over resounding like a cacophony of chaos.

Hershel, unsurprisingly, dug his heels and remained standing, turning his body right after the shaking subsided in the explosion's direction, cold, alert, and narrowed eyes scouring every single bit of the scene down the street. A manic man flying through the air, torching cars with a crimson streak coming from their weapon, laughing like a true unhinged man while doing so.

And they approached, and kept approaching in their direction, in the direction of many injured and scared people who got caught up in this whole mess and lie... This instant, it was as if everything had slowed down in front of Hershel's eyes. The fluttering rushing flames coming from the weapon, the panicked people trying to run away from the man, right into a funnel that could be blown up. The thundering booms in front, the abundant thumping of shoes on concrete behind...

A wave of rising, flaming anger was sparked within the duke, observing how a ruthless individual was attempting to undo all their work so far... whoever it was [I]didn't matter[/].

Hazel eyes started shining in a fierce and unwavering blue light, alongside the pendant handing down Hershel's nets, starting to flow alongside his cloak as if there was wind blowing. The tip of his fingers, and a bracelet hidden under his sleeve started glowing as well, like an electric circuit coming alive in brilliant blue.

For a moment, all this flowing 'power' funneled towards a stone and circuit in the man's bracelet, detonating into the surroundings behind him with great power, reaching anyone awake who was a civilian.

[COLOR=#2d6870][B][I]"Stay put if you want to stay alive"[/I][/B][/COLOR] A mental message, delivered with chilling authority and cold anger behind it. A seemingly counterproductive order coming from the voice that would be recognized as the head of the first aid team by anyone that had spent time in camp for more than a couple of minutes.

And as the attacker's flames inched closer, more and more magical power started flowing through his body, the circuit of magic coming alive once again after being spent. As the scorching heat started to be close enough to be felt by the cleric, the man staying in front of the scrambling civilians, his 10 fingers started moving like inked pens on parchments, inscribing a variety of characters and glyphs into the air, voice rising and speaking at an incredibly high speed from the magical duke in a seemingly foreign and odd language, understood only to him.

[COLOR=#2d6870][B][U]"Oh magical power that aids us in our struggles, heed my call and materialize, not as a wall of blades, but as the staunch shield wall made from the metal of eternal winter, obey my wishes, and protect at my will, TRUE SHIELD!"[/U][/B][/COLOR]

His cold and severe voice boomed into the surroundings, as from both hands materialized two sets of magical black-ish blue kite-shields, interlocked to perfection like plate armor with each other, over the two civilian holding areas where the man's open palms were pointed right as the pyromaniac had started to sweep.

His body starting to elicit a cold sweat, moved, shifting the barriers under his control to intercept the barriers that could directly torch innocent people as they executed their strafe-run, the height of it making it impossible to tell at first what was exactly happening (barely hovering over two meters in height). The magic material itself seemed to greedily swallow the flames that came in contact with it after letting them flow for a moment on its surface. These two true shields would follow the attack of the man, focusing on shielding the people who had all been told to stay put by Hershel, straining as they grew further from the man...

The eventual moment of truth would arrive as his blue-shining hazels locked onto the car barricade of his own making, the shields abruptly shifting to staying in front of both areas, hoping to minimize the explosions and flying shrapnel as much as possible, but the shockwaves themselves would probably still harm the people closest to them... nothing much he could do about that.

A stone-cold sense of anger fuelled his endeavor as his body strained, the shields complaining and cracking under the intense detonations' strain which sent shrapnel and fire in all directions, but holding just like the duke's steel will, only being dispelled after the flying mad pyromaniac had shifted to going up to the crumbling buildings, Hershel's posture slightly breaking as a long sigh escaped the man's lips.

His cold and furious eyes stared at the scene that devolved in front of every single group: the merciless and cruel incineration of what seemed to be a peculiar individual. All this did cement a single fact inside the duke's mind, one that manifested from his own lips the moment his breathing had become steady again.

[COLOR=#2d6870][B]"I will make that bastard pay, FOR DARING TO ATTACK THIS PLACE"[/B][/COLOR] A truly uncharacteristic, raspy, and furious shout escaped the usually composed Hershel, booming into his surroundings as his heels dug into the concrete.

[COLOR=#2d6870]"Anyone not caring to fight, lead the civilians away. Anyone else..."[/COLOR] A speech addressed to anyone left within the camp with power was paused for a moment, eyes locking onto the ongoing struggle.

[COLOR=#2d6870]"Sink that bastard [B]with everything you got[/B]"[/COLOR] The tone of gelid fury once again rung out as Hershel sped away, breaking the concrete as his sprint was directed towards the combat area engaging the pyromaniac, his barriers redeploying as he did so to cover any further attack.
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Shouting to: [@Thatguyinastore][@ProfSpacecakes][@Attesa][@ClownTown][@Yamperzzz][@Lmpkio][@MorgueofCrowz][@SkipTheKip]