Touch of Fate

Chapter 227: Breaking and Entering

Chapter 227: Breaking and Entering

"So you didn't notice any weakness? What about a central core, or some kind of nucleus?" Mike asked conversationally while observing the creature in question. "Did it seem like it was vulnerable to any specific kind of attack?"

"I already told you everything I know! Now, would you help me already!" Captain Henry yelled back as he fended off a smaller flesh blob. It had succeeded in pulling the man's shield free of his arm, and was now attempting to impale him on one of its spiky forelimbs.

"Come on. There has to be something." Mike commented absentmindedly as he raised an arm and casually blasted the monster with a bar of intense fire, incinerating much of its body and leaving a few charred, twitching limbs behind. He glanced at them before muttering, "Maybe I should just blast it with as much firepower as I can muster and hope for the best."

"Haa..." Henry sighed in relief, "Couldn't you have done that a bit sooner?"

"I was thinking."

The captain looked as if he was about to shout a reply, but stopped himself and finally sagged. "Whatever. I suppose it worked out. Anyway, Sir Erasmus, I don't have any information that you might find useful."

Mike took a moment to scan the battlements and locate his party members. They had split up and were in the process of dealing with the other flesh blobs. Now that the main monster was no longer producing them, their number was quickly dwindling.

[They seem to be doing alright, so it should be safe to leave them here for now...]

He glanced back at Henry with a frown, "But you watched Emmanuel while he was fighting it, right? Did you notice anything out of place?"

"You mean the part where the Marshal threw a bunch of high level magic at it, literally tearing it into pieces multiple times, only to have it regenerate repeatedly? Yes, I did see that." He replied sarcastically before leaning against the parapets looking exhausted. "We all thought he was making progress until it started eating the trees..."

"Wait, explain that bit."

"Well, it seems to be able to absorb other living things-"

Mike cut him off, "No, I already heard about that. What do you mean he was making progress?"

"Oh. Uh...I think it was when he used some kind of spell that caused sections of the monster to disappear. It regenerated from the injuries, but it had gotten smaller afterwords."

His mind started racing as he considered the possibilities. He'd been hesitating to attack the creature, because he was worried about burning through his mana in a few big attacks, only to have the monster come out the other side unscathed. However, if he could just destroy enough tissue...

"I suppose there was one other thing. Not sure if it will help you though." Henry spoke up while he was concentrating.

"Oh?"

"When it was regenerating after the Marshal's spell, I could have sworn I saw...something buried deep in the creature's flesh." The captain gave an involuntary shudder at the memory.

"What did you see?"

"I'm not sure. I only saw it for a few seconds before the flesh closed over top of it, but it looked like the upper body of a person was trapped inside of it. At first, I just figured that it was some unfortunate bastard that the creature had grabbed, but it seemed strange that he hadn't been fully absorbed yet. Maybe he's related to the monster somehow?"

Mike stared hard at the captain, remembering Emmanuel's evaluation of the man prior to their ill-fated diplomatic mission. Supposedly, Henry was lazy and a bit cowardly but had excellent intuition, which had served him well during his time in the watch. He had a knack for finding his way to the heart of whatever problem he came across. It was part of the reason he'd been promoted to his current rank, despite his young age.

[Could that human figure be its core? Maybe that's what Sera was talking about.]

His thoughts were interrupted by a furious roar of pain coming from the two creatures doing battle on the plains before the walls. The roar was accompanied by a panicked mental message from his dragon ally.

Without taking the time to think it through, Mike leapt into action, blasting himself towards the combat with a jet of concentrated air. So intense was the movement that several nearby soldiers were thrown to the ground by the wind his passage created. He began gathering his mana while surveying the situation.

Red's left hind leg had been snared by the creature, and he'd been forced to the ground as a result. Now he was furiously attempting to shred his way free as the much larger monster started to engulf him. Tentacles of meat were wrapping about him in a bone crushing embrace as he was dragged towards the creature's center.

A spike of adrenaline surged through Mike as he realized that he only had seconds to act before his companion was devoured by the monster. He felt his mind grow cold as a familiar calmness fell on him, allowing him to perceive his surroundings with clarity. A small part of him realized that he'd unconsciously pushed a large amount of mana into enhancing his Willpower, but the rest was concerned with making the most of his time.

[Judging from the ineffectiveness of Red's breath, the creature has either learned to endure the flames or somehow gained a resistance skill since the start of the battle. As such, fire will be difficult to use against it. Based on its body structure, it likely has a resistance to blunt force trauma, and its unclear how it would respond to lightning or freezing. Both methods also have the negative aspect of potentially damaging Red in the process. Therefore, cutting would be the most expedient method...]

This entire line of thought had taken less than a second, and before he'd even traveled halfway to the rolling combatants, he was finished with a hurried chant.

"By aural heights doth thy loose. Let thine roar cleave the heavens. [Howling Wind Blade!]" He called, naming the spell he'd invented on the spot by combining elements of other spells he'd used in the past.

With a mournful howl, shimmering lines of compressed air, buzzing with barely contained energy, roared forth and slammed into the fleshy mound surrounding the dragon. They cleaved through the tissue with ease, cutting the monster into chunks of blood-soaked meat, and freeing Red from its grasp.

The dragon awkwardly hopped away, broken and shredded wings flapping weakly in the process. In his state of enhanced concentration, Mike took note of the numerous wounds that now covered Red's body. Wherever the creature had touched him, it had torn away scales, skin, and even muscle, leaving patches of bleeding flesh that almost looked like burns.

Regret filled Mike's heart. He saw now that letting the overconfident dragon tackle this thing alone was folly. It was far more dangerous than he'd originally given it credit for. He felt even worse when he came to the logical conclusion that he didn't have the mana to spare in healing Red, and that he would have to employ his wounded companion for an additional task.

As the creature began the process of putting itself back together, Mike channeled his mana into the ground below it. Dozens of earthen spikes erupted into the air, spearing the chunks of flesh and holding them in place while he moved towards Red.

He pulled a squawking Audra from his pocket and tossed her over to the larger dragon with a quick mental message. [Take her and get clear of this thing.]

There was a hint of reluctance in Red's acknowledgement, coupled with a bit of shame, but he agreed, gently wrapping the little dragon in one claw and limping away despite her angry protestations.

A series of cracks from behind him caused him to turn. The monster was already well into the process of reforming itself, shattering the spikes of hardened earth in order to do so. In a matter of seconds, it would be back in action.

[Is it healing faster now? Or am I simply not doing enough damage?] He thought as he began running over to it, gathering his mana as he went.

A crackling aura of lightning started surrounding him as began the chant for one of his most devastating area of effect spells.

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Salens Kristenist, loyal retainer of the Duke of Tennundi, couldn't believe what he was seeing as he returned to camp.

He'd been assigned the task of meeting with their rearguard and passing along important orders from the Duke that were too sensitive for a regular courier. It had been an annoying and thankless task that had been complicated by the rearguard's commander. The woman hadn't shut up about the missing supply convoys that were supposed to be arriving from Tennundi, as if he had time to deal with such a minor problem. So long as they took the city, supplies would hardly be an issue.

Thankfully, he was able to use his position to hurry his way through the meeting and managed to return to camp with his retinue a little after nightfall. However, the only thing that greeted him was devastation.

While the outer edge of the encampment, where most of the regular army had been stationed, escaped the worst of the destruction, the central portion, where the Duke and his household troops were based, had been virtually annihilated.

Fires had run rampant through most of the tents, leaving little more than a few charred skeletons and unidentifiable bits of metal. Corpses dressed in the Cobalt blue uniforms of the Duke's household troops filled much of the remaining space. Strangely enough, there were no visible injuries on them, but each of their faces was twisted into the rictus of palpable horror. Evidently, their last moments had been ones of true terror.

Salens rode his horse through the remains of the camp, slowly taking in each fresh nightmare with a slack-jawed expression of shock. Although he considered himself something of a military man, the fact of the matter was, he'd never so much as stepped onto a battlefield before this night, let alone participated in a fight himself.

A massive roar of thunder and brilliant flash of light suddenly split the night. It looked as if a localized lightning storm had erupted somewhere near the walls of Almirn. After a few seconds the storm ended, leaving Salens ears ringing and eyes momentarily blinded. Clearly something was going on, but for the life of him, he couldn't figure out what.

Confused and uncertain, he unconsciously made his way towards the very center of the encampment, where the Duke had resided. This particular area had been torn asunder by some great cataclysm. Fractured earth, mixed with the shattered pieces of tents, wagons, and people was all that remained of the once proud camp.

When it started to get too difficult for his horse to advance, Salens dropped from the saddle and started clambering over the rent ground, ignoring the feeble protests of his retinue. He suddenly had a powerful and compelling need to find the Duke.

It didn't take him too long to locate the remains of the Ducal tent, thanks to its eye-catching color, even with the thick layer of dirt and grime covering it. Once he'd made it there, however, he was at a loss as to what to do next, and could only numbly stare down at the tattered scraps of cloth.

At some point, his unseeing gaze wandered, and he found himself staring at a discarded helmet a few meters away. It was hard to tell, but he thought it resembled the kind of field armor the Duke and his retinue wore. The visor was closed, hiding its interior, but something about it caught his attention. The longer he stared at it, the more he felt that there was something wrong, and it was giving him a queasy sensation in the pit of his stomach.

Unable to quell his curiosity, he stood and moved towards it. For some reason, his heart was pounding in his ears, drowning out all others sounds except for his gasping, wheezing breaths. As he reached out to lift the visor, a sickening sensation of dread overcame him, causing his vision to narrow to a point. Still, he felt compelled to continue. A perverse urge driving him to find out.

His fingers brushed the cooling metal...

"Are you sure you want to see?" A raspy voice sounded from his left.

"Gah!" Salens cried, falling over himself in a sudden panic.

A figure swathed in grey cloth had appeared next to him, leaning forward in a manner that would have suggested concern in another person. However, coming from the agent of that terrible organization, it gave the impression of amused interest.

"You!" Salens squawked, anger supplanting his other emotions. "What happened? What did you do? Where is the Duke?!"

The being known as Grim leaned back and regarded him. "An intruder managed to make it to the holding tent and break Agony's containment before it had a chance to fully develop, and beforewe could finish its conditioning. Now it will simply rampage until it exhausts itself. Quite unfortunate, all things considered."

"Unfortunate how? What happened?"

Grim pointed in the direction of the city walls. "Since it was released far too early in its developmental process, its lifespan has been significantly reduced. I'd be surprised if it survives till the end of the weak at its current rate of progress, which is quite the shame. We haven't such a viable experimental sample in a long while."

Salens shook his head. None of this was making any sense to him, but he understood the basic fact that this...person's monster had broken loose and caused all this damage, potentially harming his lord in the process. He drew his sword and leveled it at the grey-cloaked figure. "Answer me! Where is the Duke?"

In response, it simply tilted its head back and laughed in gasping, wheezing breaths.

Blind with fury at the insult, Salens swung his sword with both hands, fully intending on cutting the monster in twain. However, it was not to be.

Grim reached out, and casually caught the blade of the weapon between two fingers, stopping it dead. Salens tried to free it, but found it stuck in place, as if glued to Grim's fingers.

"Its funny. The Duke actually responded in a similar way when I explained the situation. I suppose a dog really does take after its master." All humor had leaked out its voice, leaving it cold, alien. "Its only fitting that you should share his fate."

The pressure on his sword sudden released, and Salens toppled over onto his knees. He was still struggling back to his feet, when he felt an impact to his torso. Looking down, he saw an arm swathed in grey cloth buried up to its wrist in his chest. With a wet squelch, it pulled free, dragging a pulsating glob of meat in its wake.

"Hmm..." Grim muttered as it examined its prize. "Utterly worthless, as I expected. Oh well, I guess I'll have to find some other replacement for the experimental subject. Maybe the Almirans have someone..."

As the grey robed figure left, Salens toppled over onto his side, no longer able to move. The last thing he saw before his vision faded to black, was the lone helmet, just out of reach.