Meri watched impassively as her missing fingers slowly regenerated. She was alone in a roomy reddish canvas tent. The air reeked of blood, her blood. Nearly a day had passed since her capture, and Petracide had begun his work with glee. His mood had soured quickly as Meri accepted every cruel and sadistic act in stoic silence. Her durable demonic flesh had worn down and broken his conventional tools, and he had apparently set off in search of sturdier ones.
She was largely unconcerned with her situation. Petracide was certainly a gifted sadist, but her body’s durability combined with her personal pain tolerance was frankly above his pay grade. Compared to The Warlord’s methods of abuse on her formerly frail human body, Petracide was a rank amateur. The dark leather bindings securing her hands and feet were embossed with enchanted runes which dampened her magic but not completely. She still hadn’t recovered enough Soul Energy after her battle with the elemental to assume her demon form, but that was replenishing steadily.
She was much more concerned with the chatter that she could hear around the tent. The soldiers were a base and disgusting lot, and joked openly about raping and enslaving enemy forces. Apparently Leza and the Hellcats had indeed made their move against the rear line before retreating. The casualties from that ambush were nearly a thousand. A troubling conversation indicated that the Red Knight himself was going to pursue and wipe out the attackers at their source.
“You look nervous!” Petracide’s croaking voice announced his return. “You’re right to feel nervous. Our game will now resume. You’ll scream for me to kill you!”
“I pity you.” Meri replied, and there was genuine empathy in her eyes. “What life could have turned a child into such a wretched creature as yourself?” She asked rhetorically, ignoring the quaking rage building in Petracide. “And now you are surely doomed, for the weight of your sickness has dragged you to a fate from which there is no return.”
“Pity yourself, woman.” Petracide growled. “You’re going to break. The general has left you in my care, and I won’t ever disappoint that man.” Petracide regained his calm as he spoke. He reached into the leather satchel that he had returned with, and produced an odd, hook shaped knife.
“This is an Ochtue blade. It’s meant for skinning wyverns in the northern highlands. The savages have lost enchanting techniques. Unlike my own tools, which you will pay dearly for, this blade will slice you and skin you with ease.” He held the blade up, inches from Meri’s face.
“Slice and skin me, you say? You have no imagination.” Meri lamented. “Well, the sun’s nearly down Mr. Petracide, you should have your fun while you still can.”
Petracide’s face hardened and he reached out to Meri’s face with his left hand, he squeezed her cheeks hard, and inserted the cold blade into her mouth between her cheek and teeth. His intent was clear and Meri kept calm eye contact with him the entire time as the hook shaped blade ripped through her delicate looking face and more blood flooded her mouth.
She spat the coppery mouthful in Petracide’s face and smiled with her eyes even as they involuntarily welled. In a clear rage, he moved deliberately to do the same to her other cheek.
As the blade grew closer, Meri suddenly felt a bizarre sensation in her body. Her sharp intuition and sensitivity told her very clearly, another miracle from her master had just somehow been bestowed.
Meri of course didn’t know the details for herself, but it was in this moment that Gray evolved, and absorbed the astronomical power from Zurg’s death. He shared a percentage of all power he gained with those connected to him via Soul Brand, and this particular evolution had come with a greater bonus still. Suffice it to say that Meri was now much, much stronger.
Absorbed in his fit of rage, Petracide didn’t notice at first. His first hint came when Meri opened her mouth and bit down on the intruding blade, shattering it. His second clue was the barrage of steel shards and blood she spat in his face with enough force to knock him over backwards, screaming in shock and pain.
A light tug snapped the enchanted bindings, and Meri stood over the rolling and scrambling man. He was babbling and carrying on like a pain maddened child. He turned to look up at her with one good eye, the other had a sharp shard of steel embedded into it.
“Please!” He shrieked and fell back as Meri assumed her new demon form.
Her skin was pure shadow with blood red web-like strands playing over its surface. She had grown over a foot in height, and her folded wings nearly scraped the edges of the tent. Her shadow fell in every cardinal direction, regardless of a light source and didn’t even seem to mimic her movements. Each of the four shadows on the ground moved on its own. To Petracide’s growing horror, each shadow rose up even taller than the demoness and assumed a different, all too physical form. These creatures were familiar to Petracide. A group of powerful mages in his division had once attempted to summon and subjugate one such thing. It was called a Shadow Devil, and when it tested the will of its summoners, they failed and lost their lives in brutal fashion. It took an S ranked adventurer to banish the devil, but not before more than a hundred had perished to it.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
“Please?” All four of the Shadow Devils echoed him at once before laughing. The sound made Petracide forget the agony of his torn face. It mocked his plea for mercy, and promised torment on a scale he could never fathom.
He fought to see through the tears in his eye, and saw the dark blur of Meri walking toward him, and then past him. He noticed something else. There was a loud commotion outside the tent. Were they coming to save him!? Perhaps Orkas himself? No. They were screaming. They were screaming in terror and agony, just like he would be.
“Do as you please. This man is my gift to you.” Meri spoke to the Shadow Devils and let the tent flap close behind her.
The scene outside of the the tent was utter chaos. Dozens of armored bodies lay crumbled in pools of blood as though they had fallen from the sky. An approaching scream from above confirmed that suspicion as Meri took a casual step to the side just before another soldier cracked into the stone and lay very still. Another Cambion appeared next to her then. It was Siph, one of the younger Cambions that Meri doted over.
“Mama Meri!” She bawled as she threw her arms around Meri’s neck. “We were so scared that we lost you!”
“I’m alright dear girl.” Meri said, stroking the blubbering girl’s hair. “Thank you for worrying about me.” She let the hug last another moment before gently pushing Siph to arms length. “What’s the situation here?”
“The kingdom Army split into three forces. They’re using this place as an anchor point. That big scary man is leading the majority of them south to the dwarven city. A small group chased Leza, and the hellcats north toward EDEN. Leifa and the others are here, they’ll be so relieved to see you!” Meri stopped suddenly and took a closer look at Meri. “Your demon form is so much bigger and darker, now! Did something happen?”
Meri had indeed noticed that Siph’s form was mostly unchanged. Perhaps she was the only one to gain the new transformation?
“I defeated a monster made of stone before receiving Gray’s blessing. Maybe that has something to do with it?” She shrugged.
“We all felt the surge of strength...” Siph nodded in awe. “But you look so cool now!”
“Thanks love!” Siph did a quick twirl to show off her shadowy transformation. “Now, what is the plan here?”
“The priority was to find you, and now that we have I suppose we just wipe out these bastards and rejoin the others at EDEN.” Siph replied with a slight shrug. A shaking man’s voice sounded nearby causing them to turn and regard him.
“Why?” The man asked desperately. He was staggering, his right arm hung uselessly dislocated and blood stained his tattered shirt. “Why are you demons helping the dwarves? Why do demons act so kindly toward each other? Why must I always fall in your path!?”
“Oh it’s that guy that jumped up into the sky and vanished when we caught him!” Siph pointed and exclaimed. “Meri remember I told you about him?”
“Oh is that so?” Meri’s tone suggested she was listening to her own daughter tell a story about playing with her school friends Rather than recount a massacre.
“I was going to be a knight...” Kane faltered and dropped to his knees in despair as men continued to fall around him and the screams grew less and less frequent. “A Crusibilis Knight!” He shouted at the pair whom he somehow blamed for the death of his dreams.
Siph raised her hand to end the man’s obvious suffering but Meri put a gentle hand on her wrist to stop her.
“Why does a man want to become a knight?” Meri asked him gently. “Authority? Fame?”
“Never!” He denied vehemently. “Demons could never understand. If I had power, I could reach that place! If I had gold, I could buy her back...” The long forgotten reasons that had been buried under the weight of a thousand self justified sins hammered into Kane, and he lowered his head in shame. “It was all for her. I had to follow orders.” With those perplexing words, Kane drew forth a slender black wand and held its tip to his temple. “Kinetic Bomb.”
Kane closed his eyes tightly, and waited for whatever oblivion might come. Seconds passed and he slowly opened his eyes. He looked to his left at the wand that had betrayed him. Then, delicate black skinned fingers plucked it from his numb hand.
“Sorry, friend.” The newcomer said. She was an achingly beautiful dark alfar, a black skinned legendary type of elf associated with the hells. “Magic won’t work while I’m here.”
“Thank you Kitha.” Meri said. “He seems to be a leader of sorts. Lady Tabula may have questions for him.”
Helpless in the face of their power and ashamed that he couldn’t even properly kill himself, Kane slumped in surrender. Along with ten other non combat soldiers, he was taken prisoner.
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The Red Crusibilis Knight was not physically imposing. In fact, the Red Crusibilis Knight was not a physical thing at all. He still identified himself as a male out of habit, but the fact was that he was only as biologically male or female as the bodies he chose to inhabit. Half of him was currently occupying the giant warrior Orkas riding south, leading an army of twenty five thousand to conquer Grandring. Ten percent of him was back in Crown City relaying information to that tyrant of a Supreme Justicar, and the remaining forty percent or so was chasing a strange group of cat women through the foothills north of the Sea of Stone.
Curiosity sped the floating pace of his incorporeal form. Where had these women come from? They were infernal type creatures yet had no trace of the aura (or stink as he called it) of the hells. Most importantly, when the five women had attacked earlier, they had demonstrated incredible destructive power rarely seen on this sheltered continent.
The Red Knight was an avid collector of unique skills, and anytime he was able to possess a person, could copy the knowledge of their skills and use them in any other body he possessed so long as they had the stats to support it.
Just imagining the mighty Orkas using that incredible transformation power these cat women had displayed made a shiver of pleasure run through his spirit body. Even that aloof Yuther would have to acknowledge him then.
Far below and behind him, a hundred soldiers ranked B or above were furiously riding to keep up. From his position high in the air, the Red Knight could see the fleeing women slow their pace and allow the pursuing soldiers to gain ground while they could have clearly escaped cleanly at any time.
It was obvious to the Red Knight that they were being lured away. The base camp was likely now destroyed, he reasoned. That was of no consequence. Only a few hundred soldiers, mostly support groups were left there. He would crush these women and their allies and add their power to his forces. Then it would be a simple chore to crack open Grandring and route the dwarven vermin.