Jonathan led the charge towards the horde of mimics, purple energy sparking around him. The power of his domain was like a living thing, snapping at the air in its hunger. Most of it was contained within his fists, but some managed to escape. Just like him, it yearned for battle.
Behind him came tens of thousands of Uthraki, who had gradually begun to treat him as their leader. He had saved them countless times over the last month, turning up when all seemed lost. In many cases, battles had only been won because of his presence. In a world where a peak Tier 3 was worth hundreds or even thousands of lower leveled fighters, a single Mimic Exult could turn the tide of a battle without someone sufficiently powerful to deal with it.
As he ran, the surging spirits of the warriors following him spilled over, and a titanic cry erupted from their throats as one, creating a wall of sound that erupted across the land, a marked contrast to the completely silent mimics. Jonathan found himself lending voice to the warcry, his own fury and righteous anger boiling over. He had been completely indifferent to the mimics just a month ago, but now that he had fought against them, he had come to learn just what an abomination against nature they were.
Not truly alive, they were more like viruses, simple machines that were programmed to consume living flesh and use it as a template for production. Even the Mimic Exults were not entirely alive. Instead, they simply were greater forms of the lower order of mimics, optimized to lead their brethren into battle. It was why they had survived so long against the might of an entire realm.
Jonathan drew back his fist and packed the roiling might of his Domain and elemental energy into it. A small packet of condensed mana joined it, creating what was essentially an energy cannon with a spike of ultra condensed Void energy as the payload. It was a variant of his earlier Void Cannon skill, which had been upgraded to Void’s Grasp. This one was called Void Missile, and the results were devastating.
His hand burned with purple fire as a cylinder made from his Domain formed before it, growing smaller and smaller. A charge of mana detonated within his channels, and a tiny lance of purple energy erupted out of the cannon. All around it, unseen, was a mantle of pure conceptual energy, taken from his Maw of the Void skill.
The air trembled around the missile as it hurtled through the air, trailers of purple light following it. It was tiny compared to the rest of the battlefield, but it represented enough elemental energy to level a small town. The first few mimics that it struck were simply turned to shockwaves of blood, and it was only a few seconds after that it released its true might. A disc of light shot outwards, surrounded by an even larger one made of colorless Void energy. Heads fell to the ground like wheat before the scythe, and hundreds of mimics died in an instant. Jonathan already had created another one, and it followed in the wake of its predecessor.
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Behind him, the resident mages attacked. Most of the Uthraki were warriors, but among such a large force, there were a few hundred magic wielders. Tiny volcanoes formed underneath the feet of the mimics, and bolts of fiery rock seared through the air above their heads. Jonathan watched as the mimics were scorched to the bone, but continued regardless, unheeding of their injuries. Until they were utterly destroyed, the monsters would never lay down their arms and surrender.
Jonathan loosed another Void Missile, sending the package of coruscating death hurtling through the air. The world seemed to keen as the energy ripped through it, the air itself unable to get out of the way in time. It created a trail of vacuums behind it, which imploded in a series of small detonations.
A Mimic Exult stepped forwards from the enemy ranks and swung its bone sword towards the incoming projectile. Jonathan had since learned that the massive versions of the mimics were almost entirely homogeneous. They used the same tactics and possessed the same weaponry. However, they were invariably potent in their strength.
Rather than let the monster destroy his attack, Jonathan exerted his will over the elemental energy contained within his strike, and caused it to divide into two, with a tiny margin between them. They slid around the sword and the Exult stumbled, just as the two halves of the attack slammed into its head.
Waves of purple light and fury tore through the monstrosity’s form, separating flesh from bone, and then the beast from the world of the living. Slabs of flesh and bone fell to the ground, and the Exult collapsed bonelessly, utterly dead. Jonathan had grown to the point where such enemies were more inconveniences than anything else.
All around him, the Uthraki met the Mimic lines with a devastating charge, their weapons flashing around like the armaments of champions. They were emboldened by Jonathan’s presence, and they fought without heed of death or pain, seeking to exact a bloody toll upon their enemies before they were reborn in the spawning pits.
After fighting beside the Uthraki for so long, Jonathan had learned to manage to avoid thinking of them as sapient monsters. Rather, they were people, the same as any other. Their situation was simply different. These days, he felt somewhat bad about returning to the first layer of Tartarus to kill the remaining leaders of that realm. It had been an impulsive decision, one born out of a desire to test his strength and rejoice in the fact that he had defeated Granath.
He tried to justify it to himself based on the fact that had any of his Uthraki allies returned, they would likely have been targeted and killed. It was a valid point, but it was a moot one, seeing as none of them had returned. Jonathan did not want to become the sort of man who simply killed people in the name of progress or efficiency.
He crashed into the enemy lines like a meteor, his gauntlets flashing out like comets. Each strike broke bones and tore through flesh, reaping a bloody harvest through the Mimics. As he fought alongside the elites of an entire realm, he felt his heart beat louder and louder, spurred on by his determination to win. These monsters were only a minor stumbling block. He had the entirety of Hell to liberate.