In a dark, windowless room, a young man hung by chained arms against a wall. This wasn’t common practice for attempted murder, however the case was too public to run normal measures.
Leaning forward, restricted by the iron straints, it seemed the man had passed out.
Covered in scratches and bruises, the man’s face was covered by a layer of blood.
“Aahh” he groaned as cold water poured onto his head.
It was the investigator again.
Round two had begun.
“So, let’s start from where we left off,” he said with a stern look. “Your target was one Dagnus. Our records have him as a freelance hunter. What was the allure with the boy? Surely, the Goddess told you?”
More groans came from the battered man before he managed to speak again.
“The Goddess didn’t say anything. It was the boy. I didn’t ask why, I just did as I was…”
Cough.
“I just did as I was told. He threatened my life,”
The investigator scratched his chin, intrigued.
“Can you describe me the boy?”
He nodded.
“He was wearing a uniform with a black cloak…er…black hair…oh and a silver emblem…what else? He was…acting strange. His gaze was empty…I think the Goddess was controlling his body”
“The Goddess again?” The investigator gritted his teeth.
‘A new cult. It’d be best to cut it at the head before it gains more traction’ he thought.
“What can you tell me about the Goddess? Her name?”
“I didn’t get much time,”
“So you nearly killed someone over a Goddess you didn’t even know the name of?”
“I did it for my life!”
“Ack! You’re useless. Uck…and the boy. You say you slit his throat? If he’s not found in the next few days, we’ll declare him dead. You know what that means for you, right? Well, it’s not a matter of whether he’s dead; it’s a matter of whether we can recover the corpse”
The investigator walked away.
Slam.
In the hallway of the dungeon, he ruffled his hair, scratching away trying to figure out another problem on his hands; the boy’s background. From the papers of the hunter association, they had the name ‘Dagnas’ and the date of birth had him at the age of 18.
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However, they couldn’t find any other data on him. That likely meant any relatives were long gone or out of contact. In the end, finding the corpse was pointless, since there was no one to care enough for a burial or cremation.
Without any link to other individuals, it was the investigator’s duty to call off the search and just declare him dead.
“Eighteen, huh?” the investigator sighed. “Bringing from the dead is impossible. However, I’ll ensure this cult is eliminated, I can give you that, at least”
***
Yawning, Dagnas had awoken from his slumber. Hand on his little reptilian cocoon, he began warping. This time, he made scaled gloves.
After some thinking, he decided when he eventually saw Marcus again, he’d ask for more books beyond biology. With the ability to mould scales and whatnot, he could produce some strong armour.
“Arrrghhhrrrrhr”
That was the roar of a Reptane.
Compared to your one metre Reptine, these bastards were giant reptilian hulks. Standing at three metres tall and with an open gape of around half a metre, they were scary.
A lot of campfire stories from lower ranked hunters revolved around seeing these creatures in the night, with their yellow luminescent eyes. Imagine having a nice meal with friends, then noticing a huge figure with bulky yellow eyes staring off from behind a tree, then sending tremors with its roar.
Yeah, it was terrifying. And yes, many hunters did have to buy new trousers after a night-time encounter.
Bone sword in hand, Dagnas made haste. As a swordsman, he was renowned. Every hunter that had seen his swordplay spoke of it in admiration.
Especially considering the age of the boy.
Shoving the bone sword into its mouth, Dagnas curled up the fingers of his left hand, warping the thing into another, long and sharp skeleton blade, then pierced the reptilian skin.
In its stumblement, shaking from shock and excruciating pain, it was taken advantage of by Dagnas.
Today, he would be ruthless, committing torture in the name of research.
As it stumbled around, attempting to regain composure with an open wound in it’s chest, Dagnas began carving.
Slice…thud.
Slice…thud.
Slice…thud.
The reptane was crippled, rolling around on the floor, bewildered.
There wasn’t long until it would leave this world, and so Dagnas made haste.
Slam; his right hand struck the creature.
Tensing his mind, he thought of moulding the alive reptane into a ball of mangled flesh.
Unlike before, Dagnas was met with a lot of struggle. It took all his mind power to simply start the transfiguration, nevermind actually transform the reptane into a meatball.
“Damn it!”
Whilst the creature was slowly transforming, this wouldn’t be practical enough in a fight. He needed to touch the creature, and that itself was hard enough, but then hold it for a long period of time? That was a death wish.
It seemed his power had its limits right now.
‘I guess the only living flesh easy to mould is my own. Maybe it’s only easy for similar creatures like humans?’
That’d be hard to test.
Annoyed, Dagnas just thrusted the sword into the creature’s neck, hasting it’s demise and ending the misery he assumed it must be in.
More testing needed to take place, but the creature could rest now.
Quickly, Dagnas began reforming his left arm. This time, it really was a left arm with a left hand. He was getting better.
Tonight, he’d have his hands full with training.
If he was to get more powerful, he had to increase his skill with this ability.
A hunter should wield their powers, not be wielded by them.
Now that dinner had been secured, Dagnas would be met with the repetitive process of transforming and reforming different body parts so that in danger, he’d be able to quickly recover.
The idea of regaining detached body parts would be priceless in battle.
If he were skilled enough, he could become nigh immortal.