Born a Monster

Chapter 544 - 544 The Battle Begins

544 The Battle Begins

“Hey!” the morlock war leader shouted. “You should be following! You are too far off to the right.”

I pointed at what, to us, was clearly Tainted. “The ground is wrong. Gone to rot. Sour.” <1 >

He shook his head, and with much chagrin, got his soldiers onto land that we the mystically active could abide.

“This is not what was agreed.” he complained.

“Because this was not agreed.” I said. “Magic is dangerous. On sour ground, it is worse.”

“A meal before battle increases morale.” he replied.

Well, the state of equipment clearly wasn’t going to fill that role. It wasn’t scraps, but most of his “warriors” wore only patches of armor. Mail was fitted loosely, flapping and chinking as they moved. Most of the spears had incomplete hafts, shortening their range considerably. <2 >

In the end, there was no such feast, and we agreed to attack the mausoleum from the eastern entrance, where the Taint was thinnest. Most of it, in fact, seemed to stretch almost directly toward the break in the fence, as though there were a pressure of mana inside that was rushing out through the fence, and just happened to drag long tendrils of Taint along with them.

“Okay.” the war chief said. “Go in and kill it.”

.....

“You can tell him to lead the way.” Nogar said, clearly seeing the pointing.

I scratched at that itchy spot at the right side of my jaw. “Nogar, War Leader.” And then in each language, “It is time to work together, not argue about...”

“Flame Blast!” Mohr cast. A gout of orange flame formed a glob, and spun into the mausoleum.

Something screamed in rage.

“Got it!” Mohr said.

Negla twitched ears, grown large and furry. “Sounds like it’s coming. I hear snapping bones.”

“Spirits of fire, brothers in flame...” Mohr said.

The morlocks fanned out behind us.

“Okay!” Nogar yelled, pulling out a book bound in purple cloth. “When it gets stuck, hit it with everything!”

She, such as genders apply to such a monster, didn’t. Get stuck. She oozed out of the opening, like meat through a sausage press. And while we were assaulting her, she stood.

She stood about six or seven Rhishisikks tall.

Her legs, by necessity, were like columns. Each looked like two adults riding on the shoulders of the one on the ground, bound by pulpy, pulsing flesh in turn bound by skin already going to rot. I didn’t bother to count her breasts, nor the male genitalia, nor the screaming faces that spat out barbed tongues that seemed ten feet long.

“Gods!” Doran cursed. “Creature, order the morlocks forward! We need to keep distance between us and it.”

When had I placed a shield on my arm?

“I don’t give them orders!” I responded. And then, <Taunt. >

<Are you Aware? Sentient? Awakened? Do understand what you’ve done?>

It was like unto the babbling of a group. Of course it was. How could she have so many arms if she didn’t have half the number of brains?

“Oh, Merciful Gods.” I said, as she took a step toward me, and then another, and then she was JOGGING.

What was a shield going to do against THAT?

<I know you are angry at the loss of your child...> I sent.

“Ionic Breath!” Zoltar screamed, coating her with a spray of light streamers. Where they struck, the skin blackened, cracking into cracks into cracks, like a snowflake.

<My CHILD?> She mocked me. <My child is right here!>

She regurgitated through her two-heads-wide mouth. A small bundle of pale flesh, tethered to the end of her tongue with an improbably long umbilical cord, was a young girl.

I screamed. Of course I screamed. I can’t explain how terrifying it is to look into what love becomes... but you don’t care about that, do you?

The baby struck my nose, her feet landed upon and among the sharp teeth of my lower jaw. It didn’t hurt when she bit me. Instead, it was like a warm, accepting current, just moving my flesh to join with...

AW HELL, NO.

“Knife hand!” I yelled at my right hand. And then, “Knife hand!” I yelled at my left. I brought them together amid my face, shattering bone.

Yes, I screamed at that, too. That hurt. A lot.

I fell back onto my butt, and rolled away mewling like... well, like a lizard that has just lost the entire front part of its skull.

“Immolation!” screamed Mohr, as the child went up like a wax candle. Her umbilical severed, she danced in pain for a few seconds...

I threw up, vomit mixing with blood. I bolted around the puddle, but she had found a new target.

<MY BABY!> came the spiritual wave. <YOU’VE KILLED MY BABY!>

She was all the way over there. Not a teleport; it was three steps, one, two, three. Not lumbering steps, but like a duelist might do. If a duelist’s every move threw torn clods of earth the size of dogs behind them.

“I Immolate Myself!” Mohr screamed, bursting into blue-white flames that wrapped him and...

When had she grabbed him?

...and the giant hand that lifted him off the ground. Through the flames, I could see his skeleton, burning even brighter than he himself was.

She brought her arms thundering together. The skeleton folded over backwards, and went out. She spread her arms akimbo and just shouted.

[You have taken twelve points of Emotional damage. After ability...]

<Dismiss. > I sent.

There would be time later, if I lived, to count the injuries. For now...

“Tap Water.” I shouted. “Destructive! Destroy Water!”

The front of my injury turned to dust and blew away on the wind. I wish I could say the same thing happened to her, but it looked more like a portion of her skin was sucked inward. Didn’t even look like it damaged her.

“Fall back!” the war leader was shouting. “If you’ve no more spears, fall back, you goblin whores!”

I wave of loose water mana bounced back and forth in my brain, threatening my consciousness. There DID seem to be about two dozen spears sticking out of her at various points.

“She’s down to half!” Nogar shouted. “Why are the soldiers fleeing?”

“Out of ammunition!” I screamed. The words had a horrible accent to them. No lips. No tongue. Hardly enough Sanity left to care.

“Augh!” she shrieked in morlock, “ENOUGH!”

She turned, vomited acid upon Doran. He screamed, flesh peeling off of him. And then, his voicebox melted, he gargled. And then, mercifully, he fell over and was silent.

Eight eyes. Eight of her eyes had arrows with Doran’s fletching sticking from their sockets. He died with courage...

<YOU. > Her eyes all locked upon me. <You tricked me.>

Her face glowed, enruned with hatred for a brief second, before the red lines spread to join each other. A crimson beam lashed out toward my chest.

I barely even saw the System prompt. It had the word Shield in it, and I accepted that and the cost without even trying to read.

<Activate all defensive abilities!> I told it. Well, not in those words. I sent a wave of panic toward my System, willing it for every point of defense or resistance that I could reach.

With the sound of a gong, her red beam struck a curving wall of blue hexagons. To the naked eye, they drifted about an inch apart, but there was no place where the splitting beam could penetrate. Her Wrathbolt split and struck, split and struck, losing power with each attempt, but never giving up.

My shield must have; I was in a furrow of displaced earth, some six feet from where I’d started. But I wasn’t hurt.

More eyes than hers were locked upon me.

“What was THAT?” Nogar asked.

I made some miserable noises, as my body excreted everything, including a spray of blood.

I was down on one knee, the world itself seeming to fade in and out in colors. Pretty colors.

She took one step toward me when there was a squelching noise, and the haft of a spear was poking from her side, having struck her in one of her screaming mouths.

“Brothers! Sisters! To me! Spears that have missed may be thrown again!”

It was a scraggly morlock, dressed in less armor and thinner than his fellows. His scalp and arms and back showed clear lines of sunburn, his eyes flashing blue in the moonlight.

It was...

[Heroic action detected; they have no Hero Points of their own. Engage Inspiration?]

<Sure. >

[Response not understood, do you...]

<Accept. Yes. Engage!> I told my System.

[This ability does not stack. You have only one use per combat.]

[Ability engaged at cost of two Hero Points.]

I was just learning all kinds of useful things that I’d have to...

I tried to rise, but fell back to my knee. Was this?

[Anemia. Sepsis. Blocked Chi. Panic.] My System, back to its normal level of helpful, had a long list of possibilities for me to consider.

.....

The spear, seemingly surrounded by a golden light, rose into the air.

Our hopes rose with it.

<1 > Yes, these are the words I had to use. My System does many things for me, and some of them it does poorly.

<2 > Their melee range. They could, with less weight, be thrown farther.