Dren landed on the ground, both hands empty as one dagger had been destroyed while the other was still impaling the stone titan. In flashed the Blademaster and Berserker, neither seeming bothered by their teammates fighting one another. Yet, as the two natives attacked more daggers appeared in his hand and his mask morphed into a monstrous grin. “Tough Luck, I have plenty of spares now!” He managed to maintain his grin even as he felt the pressure to block the incoming attacks. The Blademaster’s strikes were terrifyingly fast, his blade almost vanishing from sight as he slashed. Yet, Dren managed to block his attack, forcing the blade to slide down the length of his wide dagger to rest against the crossguard. This time the blade didn’t bite into his dagger and rust started to marr the glistening sword where it touched the dagger’s dark edge.

At the same time, the huge axe hadn’t been much slower than the Blademaster’s sword. It also carried far more power behind it, Dren still caught the blade but felt pain run down his arm as something cracked within it. Beside him, the berserker matched his grin.

Eyes wide the swordsman jumped back as his blade rusted at a speed visible, leaving Dren facing only the berserker for a moment. Blood wept from the small wounds on the Berserker caused by the shrapnel before. Even the swordsman’s wounds had stopped bleeding, some already healing. But the wounds on the berserker were deeper and hadn’t yet started healing. “Your toughness and spirit are shit.” Dren snickered as his arm made a crackling sound as the bone reset and thrust at the man who jumped back to avoid his attack. “You don’t seem too keen to take any more of my attacks either. Let me guess, you are a pure glass cannon? And that skill you used to tank my attack before must have a long cooldown. Whatever buff it gave you is fading as well.” Dren made several more slashes at the berserker, then parried another of the Blademaster’s flashing strikes. Before being driven away by an inferno rushing out of the ground to engulf all three of them.

Annoyance flared in Dren’s heart at the situation. Even with the four of the natives busy fighting each other and the Shadow Hunter already removed. It was still three on one. They were able to keep him from landing any serious blows by constantly attacking him. Just as Dren was about to teleport over to the mage he grinned before turning his attention back to the two melee. He had seen the swirl of metallic silk rise up all around the mage before snapping tight around them. ‘If it is just these two, then all I have to do is buy a bit of time. The Berserker’s buff weakens by the second. While the Blademaster’s sword dulls with each attack I parry. Let’s see him cut through an immutable dagger of decay.” Darting back in on the men, Dren let out a cackle of excitement that came out sounding truly monstrous.

*****

Meg felt sweat roll down her brow and her mouth grow dry, yet she never stopped chanting. In her left hand, she tightly gripped her fetish as it fed off the roiling mass of emotions that was the battle in front of her. She then turned it into more mana to fuel her next cast. She had needed to stack multiple curses on her targets while holding her concentration on each one before triggering them all at once. It was a slow drawn out process but necessary to ensure the outcome she wanted. She hadn’t lied to the Invader about the hearts of humans being full of corruption. Even if she had stacked the same number of curses on a monster the results wouldn’t have been as good. It was highly unlikely that she could get a monster to turn so fully on its ally as the mage encased in his armor of stone. Nor to fill any monster with enough lust to attempt to rape one of its own mid battle.

She just hadn’t told him how much effort it would actually take to get these intense responses. She would never have been able to do this on her own. Not only did it take far too long to cast so many curses, but she lacked the mana to do so normally. Her class gave her ten points in vitality and five in spirit. As a Witch of Agony, she was supposed to endure terrible pain to fuel her curses. Thus her class gave her high health and regeneneration to allow her to suffer a tremendous amount. Only she hadn’t needed to resort to that. There had been more than enough suffering before the system and her body, mind, and soul carried all that agony with her still. Perhaps someday she would run low and have to suffer again to fuel her curses. But she doubted that day would ever come.

Her eyes were locked on the defender holding back the enraged stone titan. She was layering curses of hatred on him, all focused on the mage who was supposed to be his ally. It fed off the kernel of hatred towards the man who was preventing him from fighting his real enemy. Soon she would activate all the curses at once, overwhelming him both mind and spirit. Then instead of standing there defending he would soon be trying to kill the target of his hatred. Despite the mental strain that left her head pounding and the exhaustion that came from constantly emptying and filling her tiny mana pool. Meg wore a smile of pure bliss. Revealing the truth of people's hearts helped her shoulder the weight of her own heart’s dark emotions. Besides, doing this would prove her use to the Invader. She needed his help. While she knew he thought she was crazy, and probably rightfully so. She wasn’t stupid. Her own weakness was apparent to her.

Most of her kills against natives had truly been in self defense and none were done cleanly. She had come close to dying several times and suffered greatly even in the times she hadn’t nearly died. But that was in the past. This invader’s power was terrifying and a perfect match for her own. Besides, there were other reasons she wanted to work with that boy and not the bull shit she had spewed about him being worthy because he wasn’t from Earth. She figured he was ten years her junior and when she looked into his heart. She found darkness just like so many others, in many ways more of it than most. But that hadn’t been what she cared about, what she did care about was the overflowing pain that she sensed within him. Not just the twisting writhing mass of physical pain his body remembered but also the agony of the soul.

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He was a kindred spirit, a heart twisted just as much as her own. She had never found anyone else who was so much like her. Definitely not one even younger than herself. Though she had met others close to having a heart of agony they were bitter old people with many times her lifetime of experience to feed their darkness. She desperately wanted to know his story yet couldn’t bring herself to ask. She was afraid that once she knew, that tiny spark of desire to know that flickered precariously in her heart would go away. Then all that would be left was the agony and madness once again. So selfishly, greedily, she craved to stay by this Invader’s side. That and she really did want to see her homeworld and all its people burn before writhing in agony. That thought brought her small smile to a grin of madness. “Perhaps, I am as crazy as he thinks. Oh well.” She mumbled around her grin as she finished chanting and triggered her curses.

*****

With the natives fighting amongst themselves Ren had finally found the opening to make a second move. It had been easy enough to snatch up the archer, they relied on their Shadow Meld ability too much. They were completely invisible when using it, not giving off any sound or even scent. But they had to stay still once they used it. Her master had seen this before and told her about it. They couldn’t just move and reuse it. They had to stay in the same spot to keep it going, only becoming visible when attacking. It was good enough against monsters who would forget them the instant they vanished again. But against thinking enemies, it was more a death trap than a help. This one was far from cunning like her master, and obviously not used to fighting against thinking beings.

Once she knew where he was, capturing the archer had been simple. A cocoon of her strongest silk had wrapped around him. It had bulged out when she reeled him up into the trees. Tendrils of shadow seeping free trying to escape. But she had just wrapped him in more and more layers until a huge cocoon wrapped around them. Not even air could escape the tight prison of steel silk by the time she was done. She felt as if he would live long enough before suffocating inside for her Master to harvest more power from.

With one down she returned to watching the battlefield for another chance to act. Her master had given her clear instructions. Despite desperately wanting to rush into the fight she refrained herself. It would have been hard before, but as she grew stronger her mind became sharper. She better understood what he wanted and needed. His instructions no longer seemed so inconceivable and his logic so alien, most of the time at least.

Watching the battle below she tilted her head as she considered the differences between fighting what her master called the natives and monsters. Monsters were strong and tough able to take tremendous damage while being a deadly threat. They were more balanced compared to these natives. The natives seemed unnaturally unbalanced. Their strengths and weaknesses were too much of an extreme from one another. Some were incredibly tough, others possessed devastating attacks or strong support abilities. But none of them were all at once as a monster would be. Or her master.6

Thinking of him as she watched them fight below she recalled their first meeting. When she opened her eyes to see him standing before her. Her mind had been so young then and far less clear. Her first thought was of weakness. They were too small, monsters should be large and powerful. They had no fangs or claws worth noting. No stingers or barbs. Their flesh was soft like her own hatchling hide, with no carapace or scales. Yet, just as quickly as those thoughts had come, she had sensed it. The thing in front of her was her master. Even if they seemed so pathetic and weak. Their body looking frail like that of a hatchling. She could feel the bond and would do all she could to protect her weak frail master.

She did her best to not frighten her master in those early days. Nor to lord over him her claws and fangs that he lacked. She would support him and protect him, for he was her master regardless of his frail weak form.

Yet, they had left the nest of her hatching into the world beyond. Into the bright world beyond they had stepped and bloodshed had soon followed. To her confusion, her weak frail master who lacked fangs and claws was able to fight. Every day after that they hunted. Killing monsters whose fangs and claws should easily rend her poor weak master. Yet, he time and time again proved the victor. With each step of her maturation, her mind grew sharper and as her Master’s path left a wake of bloody corpses she soon realized how naive she had been. That soft skinned, claw, and fangless being she had awakened in front of was her master, and he was a true monster.

Below her, the battle continued and an opening finally appeared. The fire flinging mage had shifted away from the other natives fighting each other. Alone he hurled his magic at her master. Her face twisted into a look of anger, the small mandibles hidden within her mouth clicking aggressively. Her hands danced in front of her as she went to work. Soon shiny silver silk erupted around the feet of the mage. In an instant, it became a swirling silvery whirlwind around them before snapping in. Even as she stood up and pulled with all four of her arms to yank the restrained mage towards her, more silvery threads wove around them. As these new threads started layering around them the first layers started to glow. Ren snickered at their efforts, she knew just how hot you needed to get her new threads to make them melt. Sure enough, the cocoon glowed orange with heat for only a moment before starting to cool down. Both because she was layering more and more silk around them. And because the stupid native had started to cook themselves within her cocoon. Steaming themselves just like one of the dumplings her dear master liked so well. Ren tilted her head some as the cocoon rose to where she stood, more threads still weaving around it. Perhaps she could cook her master that meal again. Then she shook her head, no it wouldn’t do to just keep serving him the same thing. She needed to do better for her master.

Her attention turned to the native mage once again, as the cocoon bulged out and heat rolled from it as they tried something else. Yet, it proved futile.

‘You are too unbalanced.’ She thought while eyeing the cocoon. ‘If you were like my master you might be dangerous. But you aren’t like him. You aren’t a…’ Her thoughts trailed off as her lips curled into a small smile that allowed her mandibles to peek out and a light lithe voice fluttered into the night. “Monster.”