Dave was excited. His summoner's friend had formed a plan to catch out an assassin. A plan which involved some knowledge of this world's powers and latent energy that he was unfamiliar with, so Dave wasn't comfortable trying to add to the discussion. Sometimes it sucked being the new guy all the time. Playing catch-up was a bitch.
The plan had worked well, all things considered. Dave had some experience in this kind of work. Setting traps in anticipation of an ambush or assassination was pretty standard practice in the Necroverse. Necromancers weren't exactly morally upright individuals, so assassination was a constant threat. The defenses for it and things like it ate up a huge portion of his budget when he first started to establish his summoning tower.
That being said, an on the fly attempt to nab the sneaky prick was not something he ran into often. So it didn't surprise him when such a hurriedly assembled plan fell apart. Millenia of battle experience honed his reactions, and Dave grabbed his summoner to jump out of the path of a devastation thermal beam attack. He didn't hesitate to drop his axe, knowing the Deathsteel wouldn't suffer in the heat.
"Thanks." The young lady told him, dropping out of his arms. "Hey, are you still up to form that familiar contract?"
Dave could have jumped for joy! His dashing heroics had finally gotten through to the fledging necromancer with a beautiful soul. He responded as positively as he could. Dave wanted to stick around this world for as long as possible. He found both it and her endlessly interesting.
"I can't summon anything else while holding this dome together, but that binding ritual is simpler. It'll make you stronger, right?" She asked. That…That was a difficult question. If she was powerful enough, his magic would likely grow stronger. But in most cases, the familiar bond simply allowed them to communicate more effectively, and it let her summon and dismiss him at will without costing her any Mana or requiring a ritual. It was a spell of convenience, not power. He did his best to communicate that.
"Fine. This dome isn't pulling much power; it's just eating at my concentration. I'm going to dump as much Mana into the spell as I can, so be ready for that." She warned him. Dave just hyped himself up. This would not be his first familiar bond, but it would be the first in a long time. His last master had died over five thousand years ago.
He felt her forming the spell. The ring of Mana symbols formed, a sight he had not seen in so long. Oh, he was so excited! This was going to be a wonderful new journey with such interesting company. He felt the magic sink into him; the tenuous connection between summoner and summons leading from his soul to hers grew stronger, deeper. Gaining power and function.
Then a second ring formed.
Then another.
Another.
Dave had no idea what was happening. The ritual was over. The first ring was the only part of the spell. His summoner turned master had not been inaccurate when she stated it was a very simple spell. But the ritual kept going. Dave could sense the young miss pouring raw Mana into a part of her soul through their new bond. From there, her soul seemed to build on the spell, growing it in scope and function.
This was beyond any necromancy he had ever seen. The Necroverse was the premiere home of necromancy; its greatest practitioners and students called that universe home. Dave had seen much of that magic in his many years as a Death Knight. He even learned a little for himself. Not that he could do much. His kind of undead had little capacity for magic.
Nonetheless, Dave had a strong grasp of the basics. More so than practically anyone he had ever met that wasn't from the Necroverse. But this spellcraft was more advanced than any of it. Somehow, the young miss had a higher understanding, a better comprehension of the concept of necromancy than any other he had ever seen.
Dave was transfixed, watching the spell spin on and on. He couldn't help but feel glad all over again that he had stuck around. He knew something about this woman was interesting, something he had never seen before. This only validated his opinion. Though the extra magic was a little concerning. Just a bit. Ok, maybe more than a little bit.
Quickly getting over his awe, Dave became concerned about the unknown magic being used on him by a barely trained novice necromancer. Maybe this wasn't such a good thing-
That thought was wiped out when the rings stopped coming, and he felt the new magic lock into place. The spell triggered. Dave felt his undead flesh light up with sensation and overwhelming energy before he could raise some form of objection. Experimental magic was way outside his comfort zone. This had to violate some kind of worker protection laws either here or in the Necroverse.
Now he had power surging through his body, lighting up dead nerves and quivering through his wrinkled flesh. Even his armor vibrated and warped as his entire existence changed. He could feel the magic changing what he was, making adjustments to even his soul. He felt violated, something he never thought would happen, considering he was undead.
The changes accelerated. He shrunk several feet, along with his armor. The extra metal flowed out, forming more weapons strapped to various parts of his body. His trusty axe flew from over where he had dropped it and slammed into his outstretched hand, changing along with him.
His armor slimmed, the stupid embellishments and unnecessary flourishes his original creator had placed on it vanishing into a more practical and efficient design. Along with his axe shrinking to match his new size, it meant more metal left over, and more weapons joined his growing arsenal.
Finally, his flesh rippled, gaining back the appearance and vigor of the living, though he remained undead. His skin smoothed, his muscles bulged with new unlife, and even his bones condensed and hardened. Every part of him grew stronger, denser, harder. And the changes were not finished quite yet.
He felt power blossom in his soul. Magic that he had only understood in theory was now backed by a wellspring of Mana within. He felt Mana symbols carve themselves into his flesh. His mind expanded, gaining knowledge of even more spells he had never bothered to study or knew existed.
The changes slowed, then settled. His whole existence had changed in the span of seconds. It was like that one time he did acid with some other Death Knights but permanent instead of ten minutes of incomprehensible sights and sounds that made him feel like he went to outer space and back in a tube sock made of aluminum foil. That was honestly way weirder than this, but this was still weird.
Quickly, Dave went through the motions of giving himself a once-over to make sure everything functioned properly. He noted that he now stood seven feet tall and had an overall slimmer build, though he could feel that his strength had only increased. It was a significant drop from his previous eleven-foot height, and he would have to adjust to that.
"Hmm." he hummed, looking down at his Deathsteel-coated hands. Then he stopped.
"Hmm?!" He hummed again. Unholy shit! He had a voice box now! He could breathe and speak! "Ahem." He cleared his throat, getting used to the idea of having a working esophagus. This was going to make his life so much easier! Seriously, he had to develop a whole series of hand signals into a sign language to communicate with non-undead and non-necromancers. It was a major problem whenever he went to a new world.
Dave was pretty much deliberately ignoring the impossibility of what just happened. He had never seen, never heard, not even a whisper of a rumor about necromancy that was capable of changing existing undead. Necromancers made undead from scratch. But once it was animated, that was what that undead was stuck as. Forever. Dave knew he would never be anything other than a Death Knight. A mid-level undead with solid defenses and physical capabilities but no unique magic and very weak generic magical abilities. All he could do was make Necroflame.
Now, everything was different.
Dave swiveled on his heel, turning to face his new Mistress and bowing to one knee. "Mistress, I thank you for giving me this great gift. You have reforged me into something I never thought to achieve, granted me status and power beyond my station. I shall serve you wholeheartedly until my end or yours."
It was a tad formal, but Dave felt the circumstances befit some pomp. He had just experienced a miracle. It would be a bit ungrateful if he didn't give the moment some gravitas.
"Oh, you can speak now?" She responded.
"Yes, Mistress. You have fixed the faults in my form that I have spent my entire unlife suffering under. You have my undying thanks." Dave couldn't help but slip in a little pun at the end there. He wasn't that great at stiff, formal things.
"Shit, was that a pun?" His Mistress caught on, snorting lightly. "Don't make me laugh, dude. I'm having a hard time holding this dome together already. And stop that serious crap. I can feel through the bond that it's not your style. Also, stop calling me Mistress; it makes me feel old."
He immediately rose to his feet and relaxed. "Sorry, boss. You really did me a massive favor with how you changed the binding ritual. I don't think I can properly explain how impressive what you just did was. But let me give a proper introduction. I'm Dave, created in the Necroverse and wholesale owner of Summoners R Us, the premiere extradimensional undead summoning service in know existence. Formerly a Death Knight, now transformed into a War Wight, also called a Spirit of War. Ready and awaiting orders, boss." He saluted, crossing both arms over his chest as if being laid to rest. The traditional salute of the Necroverse.
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"Oh, are you some kind of big shot wherever you come from? The Necroverse, you said?" The Mistress asked. "Also, Dave the Death Knight? Seriously?"
"Ehh," Dave waffled. "More like a mid-sized middle-man operation. Not a major power. The Necroverse is a universe filled with necromancers and the unclaimed dead of other worlds that filter in so that the necromancers can build armies of the undead and do battle with one another. It's a shitty place to live, but it's home." he shrugged. He knew the Necroverse was considered a backward shithole by more 'civilized' realities, but he was created there. It was a part of him. Literally, considering his base parts came from there.
"My creator assigned me the designation 'Knight 2345' when he created me, but that's a trash name, so I picked my own." He finished.
"Neat. I respect the independence." Mistress nodded. "How's the old creator doing?"
"Dead, many millennia ago. He picked a fight he couldn't win with an older, more experienced necromancer and was tricked into a magician's duel. He lost outright. It was pretty pathetic. Made getting hired afterward a nightmare since his name was my only reference at the time." Dave explained, huffing at the unpleasant memory. It sucked when an employer's bad acts followed you around by proxy. It's not like he chose to be created by an idiot.
"Well, this is cool and all, but do you think you can go and stop that ass from killing Caeden?" Mistress asked.
"Right, sorry. Unnecessary details. We can discuss my past and trade stories later. Sharing stories builds camaraderie in my experience." Dave nodded. "I'll get right on that, boss."
He did an about-face turn, and Spirit Walked in between the would-be assassin and Mistress's friend. Caeden was a solid warrior, as far as Dave could tell. He was young and more than a little inexperienced but solid. It just so happened that his inexperience had bit him in the ass this time around. He would grow more proficient with time.
He reappeared in the physical realm just in time to casually flick aside a blade-whip attack from the assassin. His armor was much stronger now that he was a War Wight. It was a part of him now. Not just armor but spiritually connected to him. All his weapons and armor were. It made them all stronger than the plain Deathsteel he had worn and wielded before.
He inherently knew his weapon inventory. Dave was happily surprised at his new arsenal. He had spent thousands of years in constant battle and warfare. He was much, much older than most Death Knights and had the experience that came with it. Dave could wield basically any weapon ever made. He even went to a few realities where firearms were common and learned to use them as an expert marksman.
His current arsenal contained his long-handled battle axe, resized to fit his new height and strapped to his back, a greatsword and kite shield, a short sword and parrying shield at his waist alongside several daggers, throwing knives and darts on a bandolier, and two hand axes for throwing or chopping. He could feel the potential to expand his arsenal further whenever he could get his hands on more Deathsteel. What he had right now was all that could be made from his armor and axe shrinking and losing their useless embellishments.
Dave wanted to do a little dance. It was a rare and exciting thing when a summoner actually went out of their way to provide the tools of the trade. A summoning ritual had a limited material capacity, so normally he could only carry one large weapon or a couple of small ones with him. Now he was armed to the teeth.
Out of all his options, Dave chose the short sword and parry shield. Whip-blades were tricky to beat, but the one exchange proved that his new speed was enough to keep up with the assassin's attacks. That was another reason to be happy. Dave had the soul of a traveler, but he was built with the heart of a warrior. A worthy opponent always got his blood pumping. Metaphorically, at least. Since he was undead and all.
Everything was coming up Dave, and he couldn't wait to get started. So he charged forward, sword and shield ready for the attacks he knew would be coming. His instincts were immediately proven correct when two whips came at him from oblique angles. It seemed the assassin had some form of control over the whip's movement beyond the natural. The attack angles were impossible to do with simple movements.
Luckily, Dave had fought abilities like this before. He slammed one whip aside into the bath of the other, slipping under their trajectory and tangling them together. His theory was proven when the entangled blades unwound in an unnatural way. Using Spirit Walk again, Dave disappeared into the soul plane, closing the distance and reappearing practically on top of the assassin.
The whip-blades immediately retracted, aiming at Dave's back. But he had expected that, indeed, he had planned on it. He bent over, flinging his sword up above him as the whips closed in and knocked them forward into the assassin. They bent unnaturally in response, avoiding the path of their own weapon and moving straight into a flip that brought both retracted whip-blades, now in the shape of normal short swords- toward Dave's helm.
Judging his opponent to be more skilled than he initially guessed, Dave raised his estimate for this fight. Instead of dodging, Dave interposed his shield between himself and the assassin, right in the path of their wrists. It killed their attack's momentum as their arms bounced off his shield. In mid-air, as they were, the assassin didn't have any leverage.
At least, that was what Dave thought until the assassin reversed their rotation and started to roll over Dave's back. Something they could only do with some kind of flight. Their swords came down again, but Dave let it happen. The assassin must not have noticed the kite shield strapped there as the swords approached his back. Instead, Dave stabbed up and back, right into the right into the assassin.
They pulled off another impossible dodge, moving sideways with incredible speed. Dave quickly straightened as they hovered in the air to his side. In response, the assassin flew back, putting space in between them. Dave dropped his shield, pulling a throwing dagger from his bandolier and throwing in one smooth motion. The dagger burst into Necroflame as he threw.
The assassin dodged again, flying to the side.
Right into another dagger. Dave had thrown two more to either side of the first in the same motion he had thrown the first. The small secondary daggers had not been ignited, letting the blazing dagger absorb the assassin's attention. This was a trick Dave had used to deal with flyers many times. Although he would admit that his new spells and weapons had made it much easier to do and even more effective
On that note, as the dagger plunged into the assassin's robes, Dave commanded it to light up like the others. The dagger was a part of him; he could ignite it at will. The two that missed flew back to their spots on his bandolier, and his parry shield reattached itself to his waste.
The robes caught fire, rapidly decaying away under the effects of the emerald flame. Sensibly, the assassin ripped their robes off to escape the effect. And Dave had no idea what he was looking at.
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Caeden watched as Cat's newly enhanced Death Knight fought the assassin. He saw it hit them with a dagger coated in that green fire. The assassin ripped their robes off, and Caeden almost threw up. What was underneath was the most grotesque abomination he had ever seen.
Whatever it was used to be human, considering the amount of flesh here and there across the mostly humanoid frame. But those bits of humanity were few and far between. Most of the body was a mass of ethertech, metal, and ether crystals mashed together among the fleshy bits. It had two extra smaller arms tucked under where the human pair were, both entirely ethertech.
The face was a mass of lights, sensors of some kind. There was no mouth, just a round hole with a mesh of metal over it. It's torso was a solid block of metal, like a chest plate that was part of its body. The fingers had more joints than a human hand and seemed to articulate in any direction, even though they were covered in flesh. The whip-blades extended out of it's palms, and it's feet had two glowing flight crystals jutting out of the soles.
The view only appeared for a moment before it's image shifted and flickered. The horrifying patchwork of technology and biology was replaced with a generic middle-aged man in nondescript clothing. Then it spoke, the voice a hollow and echoing with not an ounce of emotion. "Prime directive violated. Removing ability limiters. Final warning, prepare for death."
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It had been exposed. It had failed to maintain the prime directive. Unfortunate. The Creator's instructions were clear. If the prime directive was ever violated, it was to use maximum force to destroy all observers before self-destructing to prevent further exposure. The bylaws also denoted that it must announce the target's imminent destruction. For some reason. It failed to see the Creator's wisdom in warning the target of their death's but the Creator's will and vision were beyond it.
It was time to die, both for it and everything else here.
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After the assassin creature made its announcement, Dave moved in to attack again. Only to immediately go on the defensive. The machine creature's speed went from fast to beyond his perception. It was only Dave's finely honed instincts that let him block most of the attacks as whips flew at him fast and furious. He missed a few, receiving scores on his armored arms and torso.
Blocking hit after hit while still taking damage, Dave Spirit Walked through the creature, appearing behind it. A tactic that did nothing as blades continued to rain down on him without pause. In between swings, the assassin started to pepper him with thermal bullets. They weren't much more than a nuisance, but Dave knew if he let them keep hitting, he was going to start taking hits through his armor.
He wanted to tap into some of the new spells he could feel in the back of his mind, but he didn't have a moment to rest. The assassin was intent on ending him as fast as possible, and Dave was barely holding on. It was a plain battle of speed, and he had suddenly found himself entirely outclassed.
Despite that, Dave could tell this burst of power wasn't without cost. He could hear the metallic parts of the creature's body groan under the strain of its speed. It was breaking itself to go this fast. Dave wished he knew if he could last until it destroyed itself, but he wasn't sure. In only a few minutes, his armor had gained a multitude of scars.
Then a flood of spinning crimson energy constructs slammed down on the assassin, causing it to disengage, bolting away Dave. The constructs followed, chasing it down from multiple angles. It started responding with thermal bullets, destroying constructs before they could reach it.
"Nice work, keeping it busy. Thought you could use a break." The Mistress's friend called out.
"I appreciate it. That thing's speed is unreal. I'm much faster than I was, and it still far outstrips me." Dave admitted, nodding his head in appreciation for the breather. A spell had his armor beginning to repair itself.
"Yeah, I think it matches my top speed, and I can't do that right now." the young man gestured toward his ravaged arm and leg. Dave could tell they were recovering from the devastated state they had been in minutes ago, but he was still heavily injured. "I think we're in for it. I'm running out of thorns."
Indeed, though the young man had pinned it down to a single position, the assassin was rapidly working its way through the thousands of constructs the dark-skinned young warrior had built up before the fight properly began.
"Yes, I believe we'll need some help." Dave acknowledged, thinking of asking the Mistress to summon some more undead.
The dome over their head shattered as a massive iceberg broke through it, slamming down on top of the pinned assassin, burying it under ice.
"I heard you guys needed some help?" A young woman's voice spoke from atop the small glacier as a face poked over the edge.