Gel’s first strike with the life-hammer was so satisfying, Sean could have shed a tear. Since his tear ducts were long gone however, he consoled himself with simply enjoying the result.
The inmortu staggered back, holding up both hands and its sword as if to ward off the hateful light emanating from the weapon. Part of its jaw skittered across the ground along with several shattered teeth that Gel’s hammer had bashed out of its face. It recovered from both the light and the blow itself faster than the gelaton had expected, but they had not sat patiently by. A golden opportunity like this wasn’t something either of them were about to let go unclaimed.
One blow quickly became three, then six, and then a dozen as Gel wailed on their opponent. The hulking undead parried a few of their blows with its sword, and whenever both weapons met a sound like cannonfire repelled them both. Sean’s left hand resonated in his mind right before each clash with the creature, but he still couldn’t tell what the limb was trying to tell him. The sensation was too brief. Like a whisper behind a gravestone across a silent field.
Not that Sean could focus on the sensation, as surviving the battle they were already in took up the full scope of his attention. Add that to each deafening clash repelling both of the undead back with enough force to push them several feet, and it was a wonder he had noticed it at all.
The inmortu, or Mumbles whichever it truly was, was not distracted by anything. It recovered from the shock much better than Sean did, given its prodigious strength, and each time it strode back into melee range swinging its sword confidently. Thankfully, Sean’s shield was now more than up to the task of defending them, but he still had to be careful. It couldn’t take blows from the hulking undead directly. The few he had been forced to take had already damaged parts of his shield, though glancing blows still slid off easily enough.
Dark frustration crossed the inmortu’s features, and after another repelling exchange it slammed its free hand into the ground, grey fingers curled into a fist.
As before, spires of earth shot up all around Sean. Instead of striking at him directly though, these encircled the gelaton in a wide arc that pointed towards him and cut off all possibility of escape. It was a good move. Despite their new weapon, Sean and Gel’s fighting style still required room to maneuver if they wanted to strike a blow without taking too heavy of one in return. He was about to try clambering over the spikes, when another shout came from above.
Wind rose under Sean’s feet, and the gelaton didn’t even try to steady himself. Now that he was sure Saren was still on their side, the paladin wasn’t going to do anything that might get them killed. The inmortu lunged for them, but by the time it crossed the distance the pair had been carried up and over the spikes to land a short distance away.
“Mind thanking him for me?” Sean asked his friend as he rushed back towards the spikes in an attempt to trap the hulking undead inside its own makeshift wall.
“No problem.” Gel responded, and an instant later the slime’s own voice boomed back a response. “I should have been thanking him already for my new hammer!”
“There’ll be time for that when we’re done.” Sean said, arriving just in time to block the inmortu from leaving its own trap.
Dark eyes met Sean’s burning orbs, and then flickered to either side where the hulking undead no longer had any room to move. Sean grinned at it, only for the inmortu to raise its free hand up to its shoulder in a fist. The spikes retreated into the cavern floor, and the inmortu’s face broke out into a bloody, only partially-toothy grin of its own.
Sean acknowledged the move with a mental curse and was about to move in to resume their bout, when something unexpected happened.
Two furry humanoids landed gracefully on either side of him, their hands clutching fiercely to their weapons. The one on his left held the very same pair of daggers Gel had given each of them not long ago, while the one on his right wielded the silver-wood spear Sean had gifted the survivors in both hands. All three of their weapons were trained on the inmortu. Even so, the pair of fennekians spared the time to briefly meet his burning orbs and nod in his direction.
“Looks like we have even more allies than we thought!” Gel shared brightly. “And they even brought my daggers back! I love these little snacks, can we keep them around? I promise to only eat them if I get hungry.”
“You’re always hungry.” Sean pointed out, and before the slime could come up with a witty response, the gelaton attacked again. His new snack-sized allies didn’t even hesitate, rushing in right after him.
To Sean’s surprise and relief, the two furballs didn’t get themselves killed or even get in his way. They fought around him, letting Sean lead the pace of the fight while they darted around their opponent and struck at openings. Most of their attacks were feints, designed to divert the inmortu’s attention at critical moments instead of committing to a blow that might see them crushed in response. The one wielding the silver-wood spear flashed in with it more than once, distracting the hulking undead and giving Sean room to breathe.
But even with this, the inmortu’s regeneration continued to prove its worth. Its jaw rebuilt itself, and the chunks of flesh Gel was splattering all over the ground with every clean blow were being replaced with disturbing speed. Saren swooped down several times, raining down whistling arcs of cutting air that resembled the inmortu’s own attacks – but even those seemed to be having little effect.
They were ‘winning’ the fight now, Sean could feel it. His combat instincts, given to him by his dual evolutions, assured him of it. With each new exchange, their party was gaining ground against the hulking undead that they hadn’t been able to before. But, no matter how much they gained, his instincts had something else to report.
They weren’t really ‘winning’.
No matter how much damage they dealt, the inmortu’s regeneration outpaced them. It even seemed to speed up as the creature’s wounds grew more grievous. Once, Gel nearly smashed off its free arm at the shoulder. One of the fennekians darted in, and the silver-wood spear severed most of the remaining tendons holding it. But it didn’t sever enough. The arm reattached itself, and horror fell upon the faces of Sean’s companions.
“What the hell is it going to take to kill this thing?” Sean wondered aloud, even as he forced his own shock aside in order to block another blow. The inmortu cared not for its own injuries, and its pace had not slowed no matter what they had done to it. “Can we even kill it?”
“I don’t… I don’t know.” Gel admitted, and the slime sounded either confused or horrified. “I thought the hammer would be enough, but it just keeps… how is it doing that?”
“Ask Saren.” Sean commanded. “Maybe he knows something we don’t.”
The paladin had fought the inmortu before, though it hadn’t taken a genius to guess the fight hadn’t gone well when Sean had seen the owlen fall out of the sky due to his injuries. It also hadn’t taken a genuis to guess the fate of the owlen’s former comrades. They hadn’t been captives of the ants, Sean had looked.
Can’t imagine he would come back down here for it if he didn’t think he could win. Sean thought, as Gel shouted questions up at the flying paladin.
A few exchanges later, the slime reported back with news Sean wasn’t entirely sure how to make sense of.
“It’s feeding off of ‘the anguish of its components’.” Gel said, clearly quoting Saren. “He says if we can’t beat its ability to heal itself, then we’ll have to remove those first before it’ll go down and stay down.”
“The ‘anguish of its components’?” Sean asked, dodging backwards to give himself a few precious seconds to talk.
His respect for his furry allies grew when the fennekians disengaged as well, darting backwards with him as if the retreat had been signaled ahead of time. When they were all clear, the inmortu eyed the sky as if expecting some new attack. Sean took the opportunity to continue their conversation.
“What is that supposed to mean? Does he mean the people Bancroft used to make it?”
Sean stared at the misshapen form of ‘Mumbles’ and whoever else was supposed to be in there. It wasn’t hard to tell there were extra parts – Sean could have pointed at least two out easily enough – but removing them was something else entirely. Nothing they had chunked out of the creature had stayed gone long enough to give Sean any confidence in their ability to carve and core it up Thanksgiving turkey-style.
“I think so?” Gel sounded unsure. “He said there should be a limit to it even if we can’t, and–”
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Gel paused as the paladin shouted more words down that were incomprehensible to Sean.
“--and he doesn’t know how to remove them!?” Gel’s voice was indignant as he grumbled. “How is that supposed to help? Why even say anything at all if you don’t have a plan for how to do it?”
Sean watched the inmortu set its sights back on them, and cold logic welled up from within him to soothe out and accelerate his thoughts. He ignored his friend’s discontent, focusing instead on the problem.
If what Saren was saying was true, then there had to be a way to do it. Sean had no idea how necromancy worked here, but it wasn’t hard to guess that Mumbles and whoever else had been sacrificed in order to bring this creature to life. Unlife. Whichever.
The anguish of its components. Sean mulled the phrasing over. Maybe it’s not about the flesh then. If they’re still in there suffering somewhere, then can we just pull them out?
Was that it? It couldn’t be that easy.
Could it?
Sean recalled the sensation in his left hand every time the two of them had gotten close. The resonating pulse in his reaper’s hand. What had the node said in its description?
Embrace a connection to a deeper power by taking in the essence of a Reaper into one of your hands.
A deeper power… Then there was the mysteriously phrased ‘effect’ section.
Effect: Greatly enhances the capabilities of the chosen hand. Additional effects exist, but must be discovered.
Sean hadn’t discovered any ‘additional effects’ since selecting the node. His midnight-black left hand was stronger now, sure. But it hadn’t done anything new for him. Not directly. He could still feel the same dark presence he had first felt from the limb every now and again. Mostly when he killed something with it. But could that really be it? The presence suffused the marrow of his hand more often than that, Sean was sure.
The essence of a Reaper.
Sean had not missed the capitalization of that word in the description. There was meaning there. A significance. He could feel it, but Sean wasn’t yet knowledgeable enough about this world to parse out what it was. Or why his hand seemed to resonate in his every clash with the hulking undead, something it hadn’t done fighting anything else. Sean watched the inmortu begin to approach, then looked down at the limb in question as if his own black finger bones might answer him.
To his surprise, they did. Sort of.
A sensation welled up within the hand, though that wasn’t quite the right word for what was transmitted to him. It was more like a pang of hunger. But not for sustenance, and not in response to any desire of Sean’s. There was something inside the other creature, and his reaper’s hand wanted it. Wanted to do something with it. Sean focused on the sensation, trying to understand the feeling, but the inmortu was already here.
It attacked, and Sean’s concentration was broken. The sensation fled from his mind, only to be replaced by the same resonance from before as the gelaton matched blows with his opponent.
But that was fine. Now, Sean had an idea.
“I’ve got a plan!” Sean shouted to his friend. “But I don’t think you’re going to like it!”
“Hit me!” Gel responded, before quickly adding. “I mean, tell me your plan. Don’t actually hit me. Hit him. Mumbles. Wait, is that your plan? Because I thought we were already doing that.”
“I need to get my hand on it.” Sean said, ignoring the slime’s battlefield rambling. He held up his black hand for emphasis. “This one. And if I were a betting skeleton, I’d say I’ll probably need some time, too.”
The gelaton didn’t know quite where that knowledge was coming from, but it felt right. Which was good enough.
“‘Some time’.” Gel echoed. “You want some time up close and personal with the Inmortu. The thing that can still kill us if it lands a clean hit or two. And you think that’ll help us win?”
“Yup.”
Gel was silent for a moment as they continued their stalemate engagement with the hulking undead. Three fighters on one side tearing, stabbing, and smashing chunks out of an endlessly regenerating opponent.
“Yeah, sure. Why not? Can’t be worse than anything we’ve tried already. I only have one request.”
“What’s that?”
“If you can pull some of it back with you, I want a taste. I know I shouldn’t, and I know there’s pieces everywhere, but I can’t help a bit of professional curiosity. It probably tastes like rot, but its flesh keeps coming back! So maybe it’s still fresh? Or is it a blend of the two? I can’t help but wonder.”
Sean shook his head at his friend, though not enough to move his eyes off their opponent. Then, the next time Gel and the fennekians made an opening for him that Sean might have used to bring the axe down, the gelaton lunged forth with his left hand instead. The move was so unexpected, and so out of sync with what Sean had been doing this whole time, that his reaper’s hand landed right on the hulking undead’s forearm.
The inmortu’s response shook every creature in the cavern still paying attention.
When Sean’s black hand landed, the resonance he felt from the limb intensified and grey flesh retreated from the point of contact. It peeled back like skin from a grape, revealing three circuits of twisting dark energy wrapping around the bloodied bones beneath. That, in and of itself, wasn’t terribly surprising. Neither was the fact that the inmortu’s body seized up and froze as Sean’s grip tightened on its arm.
It was the three pale, spectral heads that popped out of the inmortu’s chest that stole the show.
The first was clearly Mumbles. His ghostly eyes were wild and crazed, and the man’s mouth was slavering with spit that dribbled down its chin and disappeared. Mumbles growled and snapped his teeth at them like a wild, injured dog. Sean paid him no mind, especially when it became clear the spectral head couldn’t actually hurt him.
The second was a woman Sean didn’t quite recognize, though she seemed vaguely familiar with long dark hair and eyes like a pallid lake. Like Mumbles, her expression was deranged. She didn’t snap at them with her teeth, but she screamed in pain. The sound beat out every movie rendition of a banshee’s wail Sean had ever heard, and he winced as she kept it up far longer than any creature with lungs could have.
Bad as those two were, it was the third that broke Sean’s already devoured heart. A young girl bearing the same long, dark hair and eyes of the older woman, looked up at the gelaton with a fearful expression that seemed almost resigned. As if she knew her suffering wasn’t about to end, but going to get worse. The poor thing said not a word, she just looked into Sean’s burning red orbs as if he were a monster beyond nightmares. One she knew she couldn’t escape.
Sean was about to try and reassure her, though he couldn’t have said how, when Gel spoke up in his mind.
“Bancroft is going to pay for this.” The slime said, and for once Gel’s voice was cold with rage.
“Who are–” Sean began, but the slime was already answering his question.
“Mala, Sarah’s mother.” Gel explained, indicating the older woman. “And her other daughter, Milah.”
Memories of two gravestones covered in flowers filled Sean’s mind, and he suddenly knew why the older woman looked like someone he had met before. Not because he actually had, but because her husband Jerin had poured his heart and soul into making a memorial for her. A memorial that the gelaton had seen, though it felt like so long ago now.
A sudden incandescent rage sparked to life within Sean, and it flared up with such intensity that even his undead nature struggled to contain it. Mala had been taken, and apparently Jerin had believed his other daughter had been as well. The man must have still held out hope to rescue her, or maybe hadn’t known that Bancroft had her yet, which would explain why they hadn’t come across a memorial for her. Since her father had presumably died not long after, she had never gotten one.
For some reason, that fact enraged him even further. But this was not the time. They needed to focus on this new chance. To cut off the inmortu’s power and find a way to end the anguish of the three in front of them. Sean wrestled down his anger, though even with the help of his own nature it took him long enough that the gelaton didn’t notice Saren had arrived until the owlen paladin was standing beside him.
Gel and Saren exchanged words, and then Saren began to speak to the young girl. The owlen’s already gentle voice took on the sort of tones one might use for a wounded animal, and this time Sean did not mind being excluded from the conversation. He almost didn’t want to know what had happened here. But he knew he had to.
The inmortu’s body wouldn’t be frozen much longer, Sean could feel it. Both of the fennekians had already moved in to finish off their opponent while it was effectively immobile, but Sean had held out his axe to stop them. The pair had heeded his obvious warning, which showed surprising insight on their part. While Sean may not have understood what was happening here, he did have the distinct feeling that any damage the inmortu took right now would end this little display early.
Given that whatever was going here was also likely to be their best shot at putting Bancroft’s meanest minion down for good, Sean wanted to give Gel and the paladin as long as he could to figure this situation out. So instead of interrupting and demanding an explanation, the gelaton focused instead on the resonance emanating from his reaper’s hand. On the temporary bond he could feel it had created between the inmortu and himself. Or rather, between the spirits and himself. Using the twisting dark energy as a conduit somehow.
Is that what’s keeping them in there?
Sean couldn’t close his eyes. No matter what happened, his burning orbs saw everything in his vision at all times. Including the three spectral heads that were, each in their own separately haunting way, staring directly at him. He couldn’t speak to them, not without Gel’s help, but even so Sean returned their gaze with an unwavering stare of his own.
I will free you. The gelaton silently promised, and the dark presence of his reaper’s hand suffused him with that same feeling of inevitability. The same one Sean had first felt when it had blackened his limb. He extended his promise, and the words he mentally whispered were both his own and that of something… deeper.
And when I do, you can finally rest in peace.