The pain was both hot and cold.

I stared at the spear protruding from my chest. The heat magic made my bloodstains sizzle. I could smell it, the burnt flesh and fluids.

It was odd, getting cooked from the inside out. I didn’t try to make a habit of it, but this would have been the eighth time this has happened. It was most likely my image.

An overweight, harmless, and smiling idiot. Not far from the truth, but not the full truth either.

I made face as the smell hit me. I did not smell delicious. Not enough spices, and far too much heat. Which was sad as I was well-marbled with fat. Hard work that was now getting wasted due to a idiot's poor life-choices.

The red spear tip began to lose its shine. The magic feeding the magic weapon was now cut off, and thus the residual magic dissipated.

A wet slorping sound filled my ears as Jonas pulled the spear back out.

I stretched and twitched as muscles complained. My pain receptors fired off. My body let me know that not only had I gotten stabbed, but I was also lightly cooked on the inside. The pain was heaviest in my left lung.

I turned and saw Jonas staring at me. His mouth agape as not only was I not dead, but I even shaking my head at him. I was not falling over as he had expected.

Jonas. Fire abilities. A low, 2nd tier channeler. He needed a tool to use his magics.

“How the fuck are you still alive!?” Jonas asked as he stared at his spear. The blackened chunks of flesh clung to it. There shouldn’t have been that much stuff.

“Jonas, what the hell is wrong with you?” I asked as I felt my children slither within. I giggled as they tickled my nerves as they shifted about.

The Flesh Ateusacer of Isosaria were already eating the dead flesh. Then another group moved and started repairing me. Stitching me back together, and using their brethren as filler if needed. I doubted I lost any with this tiny wound.

“Ah, Jonas my old friend,” I began as I scratched at my open wound. I wasn’t even bleeding anymore. “What the hell do you think planer travels meant?”

Jonas stared back at me, his expression a picture-perfect example of a moron.

“It means I have left our world, our universe, and traveled to other ones. Not bad for the Maggot-Moron, or a Bug-Boy,” I smiled at Jonas. My old friend. A childhood pal.

It was why I had hired the man. To give him a bit of free coin and to catch up on old times. I was now sad that the rumors turned out to be true.

Jonas who was now reedy, and ‘guided’ others through the Falken Woods. Jonas, and his new friends. Men I didn’t recognize. Did I know them?

Ah, it didn’t matter. Not anymore.

“The pay was ten gold coins Jonas. Easy money,” I sighed. I liked Jonas. He was a good kid back then.

Instead of this gruff, scruffy, thin man. I recalled a chubby-cheeked, laughing kid. My friend who once helped me against name-callers, and told me that my ability to talk to insects was neat.

“Yeah, easy money!” one of Jonas’s friends hollered and another laughed.

They say ignorance was a power, and I understood that well. I was still like these fools. Poking at something greater then their minds could understand.

My defining quest in life was like this. Challenging impossible odds. The difference was that I had much, much better help.

I pulled up my sleeves, revealing the pale and unblemished skin. Three of four people before me laughed. Jonas no longer looked confident as the situation dawned on him.

I got stabbed and didn’t die. They had weapons, and I was currently unarmed. Jonas felt like he was in danger despite having a magic spear.

{Wake, my beauties} I sang out and raised my arms.

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Razer sharp wings pierced through my skin. They erupted from my very flesh, yet no blood or tears appeared. So fine was their wing's edge, they could cut flesh and leave no damage.

Well, the cut was too harsh a term. Separate the cells was more accurate. Then the cells could re-link with only microdamage done.

My most precious princesses. Three on each forearm. Purple Phoenix Papillon. Each was the size of my hand, and that was with their wings stretched out.

They looked like butterflies if butterflies were outlined in pearlescent purple. The color shimmered in the light and could change hues depending on the angle.

The wings were translucent. So fine that unless you smudged them, they were invisible. Yet they could whisk through the air at speeds the defied logic. Zipping past griffins as if they were newborns.

Their bodies looked as if it got carved from amethyst. Though their toughness was nowhere near as soft as gemstones. It required either intense magic of the seventh class to even hurt them.

Enchanted metals were a good second choice. Though melee was a fool's choice.

They fluttered their wings in anticipation. It was only my will that prevented them from acting sooner. From attacking sooner. They disliked me getting hurt. They tended to take it personally unless they were the ones doing the damage.

The six were unique even among their species. Princesses that could each evolve into a Queen. Then, with sovereign blood, they could become Empresses.

Empress class Purple Phoenix Papillon. A silly name, but considering that alone, they could kill eldritch dragons and eat their flesh. These beauties were no joke.

Though the reason why they stayed with me was. They thought I was yummy. A warm, fluffy sandwich.

Not that I complained too much. Anyone educated ran, and everyone dumb died before them. It was the reason why I was both fat, and wealthy. More fat then wealthy if I was honest.

When they hungered, they could reduce my weight to a fifth within seconds. So I needed to eat a lot.

Which meant money I almost ate money. Yet what was dangerous to one such as I?

I could waltz through poisoned fields, my lungs filtered by the Mog Maggots of Rulg. I could make a pretty penny on rare creatures or herbs.

If I knew where precious stones or ores lay, my burrowing Unkulu Wyrm could swim to them, and bring them back to me.

A dragon with a hoard or treasure? My pretty princesses could eat it, and I would clean up everything else. Though we did avoid elder and ancient dragons. No sense in being unnecessary risks.

Jonas snickered.

It broke me from my loving gazes as I looked over each of my beauties.

“I don’t care if you got pretty little butterflies. You always were a berk!” Jonas laughed. His braying cough was extra loud in the still air.

Jonas frowned and looked to his side. Torky usually laughed at his insults.

Torky wasn’t laughing because of a little butterfly. He wasn’t large, but the butterfly was able to lift him. It was currently sucking the very life force from the man.

Jonas swiveled around, and his other two friends had the same, silent fate.

Jonas screamed as he saw his friends, his pals, wither before his eyes.

His final moments were the sign of a shimmering purple thing. Then a sharp stab. Something that went deeper than flesh and bone.

I sighed as the complaints of the last two girls filled my senses. They were hungry but there was no more food.

{Those who had to wait, can get something from me!} I said as I patted my stomach. The two girls did a loop in the air, folded up their wings, and dove into my stomach. I could feel them move and eat. It didn’t hurt, but it did lightly tickle.

The other four, sensing something amiss, immediately stopped. They dropped their subpar meal and rushed over. They had felt the pleasure of their two sisters and they also dove in.

These little, selfish butterflies. Where they little flying pigs as well?

I giggled as they did not hold back. How such small things were able to eat so much boggled my mind. My Princess Piggies.

I giggled at the joke. It got followed up by another tingle that ran up my spine.

On a good day, I couldn’t see my toes. In moments I looked down and I could see my ribs. The sagging skin wasn’t cute at all.

I wiggled it, and folded it up and pressed it against my stomach.

{Skin. Much. Loose. Fix} I sent the command to my bone marrows. The Flesh Ateusacer would eat the extra skin and leave me looking good. I would also have sculptured muscles if my princesses didn’t eat so much.

If my body was not near death, which is almost always was, I would have been handsome. With a body that artists desired to capture in stone.

I stared at the dried husks that were once people. What a waste of life. They could have been secure as guards were always needed, though it did pay less.

I made my way over and picked them clean. It was low-quality gear. Weapons, armor, and the odd ring. It wasn’t worth anything.

So sad. Their most prized possessions were like shiny stones in my eyes. Interesting, but worthless.

Even Jonas’s prized spear was a simple forged magic weapon. Common enough to only be worth a few coins. Was it worth lugging to the capital to sell?

Meh. I would do it to spite the man. Sell it for bread money.

I giggled as someone tickled an organ. The girls were usually good about not crippling me, so ignored it. I began to walk back to the horses.

It was going to be a nice ride back to the capital. For my horse that was. I had lost a lot of fat. I would guess a hundred pounds in the last ten minutes.

I whistled a tune as I made it back to camp.

The soup was bubbling, and the bread warm on top of the pot lid. There was enough for five, which mean that I could finally have a proper meal here.

Then it was time to head back to my journey. The Celestial Jade Honeycombs were located in the Apidae planes, right?

The rare crystal honey would help my girls grow into queens. Which they wanted and I wanted. Then they could begin to kill dragons on their own, rather than as a group.

I wanted them to become empresses. A legacy that would define my life. A goal that had me traveling far and wide.