TAKING IT BACK

The brisk nightly wind reached me within the abandoned watchtower. Along with it came my stench from training throughout the past day and the stench of boiled fish that lingered. I welcomed the night as I departed one of the rooms on the ground floor of the Old Watchtower. It had been a long day of training and racking my mind with a solid plan for dealing with these Fire Kingdom soldiers and Cain.

This newfound power of harnessing my Willpower proved challenging to control. Unlike the other night, I could barely bring forth a spark of golden Willpower, but I could sense it was there when I was training—like an indivisible coat of mana.

Besides training and practicing magic during the day, I also toured the abandoned watchtower. A barracks, smith area, mess room, and what looked like a leader's room on the first floor, while the middle floor was filled with dozens of decaying wooden shelves, crates, and barrels.

Once night came among the plains, my ghosts emerged from the ground, giving me sight over Raycon Village, the mines, and my lair. Hmph, the soldiers at my lair had already left, and the ones at the mines prepared to leave.

I studied the soldiers at Raycon Village, deciding to deal with the furthest area. My ghosts carefully scouted out the position of each soldier—five that were still alive, and I came to understand why they had not left.

One of the soldiers in a ruined home was squirming in a makeshift cot, sweating and periodically screaming in fits of pain. Noticing a dead blacat at the edge of the village and three more stalking around, I realized the soldier was suffering from blacat fever. Hmph, serves him right. Yet, four soldiers against three blacats... I could assume they were fearful of contracting blacat fever.

Seemed like the others had no idea what to do about the disease and left their wailing soldier be. He would surely die without treatment, not that I believe any of those thunderheads knew how to treat blacat fever. Laying next to the doomed victim were two shriveled-up corpses and Dan's body.

The feverous eyes of the wailing gent finally caught the phantom staring at him from above. His fear resonated out his mouth, but I was sure none would come to his aid as my phantom began to siphon his soul. He should be grateful to finally be put out of his misery... or... well, if he ended up stuck in Limbo, his misery may just be starting.

My other phantoms were already feasting off the remaining two that slept, leaving a Blaster and a soldier for me to deal with personally. I commanded my sword into my hand, flew over to Raycon Village, and came to a hover high above the village. I glowered over the village—the Blaster sat leaning against the ruined well. On the other hand, the soldier stood alert and attentive at the lower side of the village near the entrance—an easier prey.

Before I was about to leap down on him, cold whispers reached the back of my head: Specter... Preta ... It uttered. An option coming from my phantoms? Not wanting to dwell on it too long, I randomly made two into specters and one into a preta.

Ignoring their new forms for now, I dove off my sword, commanded it into my hand, and accelerated my dive toward the oblivious guard. I felt someone staring at me—that Blaster saw me.

But it was too late as I crashed into the soldier's body, causing blood, bones, and bits of his leathery armor to tear into the air. I continued, crashing into the ground I intentionally distorted into a crater to ease my collision.

I pulled my sword out from the ground just in time to fend off a ray of fire from the Blaster's Salvos. He was flying through the air at me with a facade of determination, firing off a rain of heated rays at me.

I continued to parry the beams aside, but as he approached, I commanded the ground before me to rise up and form a wall of defense. Within the short moment I was protected, I took a deep breath, filled my mind with my prior training, and readied my sword that shimmered with a faint invisible aura.

The Blaster's attacks pierced through the wall, but I evaded, crashed through my wall of earth, and drove my Willpowered sword through the Blaster's chest, dispelling his mana ward and piercing his light leather armor.

As he grunted in pain, I spun around him, pulled my sword out, and kicked him into the miniature crater. I looked down at him, and he glared back up at me,

BLASTER

That is not possible.

He winced, his right hand poorly keeping in the gushing blood that poured out his torso.

BLASTER

A young Mage—with Willpower?

His mouth parted into a bloody grin,

BLASTER

No wonder he sent an entire platoon to come after you, Ire Farcatcher.

I glared at him in disgust,

PAIN

Do you even know why you're chasing after me?

He coughed out a bloody laugh.

BLASTER

You killed an entire throne room of nobles.

PAIN

What?

I spat.

BLASTER

When the dragon attacked.

He gargled, blood flowing out his mouth.

BLASTER

You lost it. You went wild with your power.

King Solo's history of lies flashed through my mind as I pitied the dying Blaster.

PAIN

So, they told you lies.

BLASTER

Lies!?

He croaked and began to gag for air as he forced himself to speak.

BLASTER

They hid it from you well! Everyone knew about Ire Farcatcher, the child prodigy! The demon child of those sick ritualists!

Child prodigy? That term sounded familiar, but despite how hard I attempted to rack my mind, I could not remember what they were.

BLASTER

You have no clue...

He garbled at the site of confusion, painting my face.

BLASTER

Serves you right. Bastard...

He uttered as his body finally gave out and slumped over, splashing in a pool of blood. His soul emerged, floating above his corpse, and was fearfully laughing as it seemed to back away from an unseen horror.

Annoyed by his questionable words, I forcefully harvested his soul and stepped over his corpse toward his counterpart. Neither of them had Inventory, but upon searching through the soldier's bloody body parts, I found a Scryer hanging off his bloody waist.

A gorgeous piece of tool it was, reassembling a round hand-held black mirror trimmed with what I could guess to be zinc puri. The thick iron and zinc handle had four grooves, one for each finger, and inside each grove was a hieroglyphic symbol.

I had no idea how to use it, and with thoughts of Cain suddenly appearing in the mirror, I Stashed it quickly into my Inventory. I took a deep breath and brought my attention to my new pretas and specters.

My heart skipped as I laid eyes on a ghastly reflection of myself. Both the preta and the specter had a slightly deformed look of my facial appearance. I studied the preta through the eyes of the specter. Its mouth was open and contorted into a horrific wide smile. Despite its body being ghastly transparent, a thick shadowy darkness of its inner mouth was blackened and solid, even through the back of its head. Creepy...

Switching views, the specter had long, stringy arms and a similar torso, but its jaw was unhinged, causing its chin to fall past its neck. I also noticed that both could hear, giving me a string of ideas regarding Dagon Village.

I turned and eyed the Blaster's corpse—leaving them here would be a waste. I gathered the hallowed corpses from the ruined homes and placed them with the Blaster's. I then commanded a thin layer of the ground beneath them to rise into the air, and with this pile of corpses, I flew back to the Old Watchtower.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

I placed the Blaster's corpse down within the shadow of the watchtower, engulfed it with water, and then transmuted the water into ice.

PAIN

On to the next.

I whispered as I took off towards the Iron Caves.

My ghost saw five of them had slept in tents just before the mines. Another was on the lookout, walking about and seemingly talking to himself. I sent in my preta and specters ahead of me to siphon off the souls of those who slept. I floated behind the mountainside, north of the Iron Caves. My pretas and specters quickly snuck in from the ground and into the tents of the sleeping soldiers.

Within fifteen minutes, I learned that pretas did not use the souls to evolve—instead, they stored them for me to harvest for myself. And in addition to their hearing, both of them could see enchantments. This would also mean that their gaze would be felt by those they looked at.

Refusing to stock more souls into my preta, I allowed my specter to siphon the souls off the remaining three, and after the first two... Wraith whispered into my head. I confirmed the transition and saw its facial features remained the same. But now it had ghastly flowing hair, thick arms, hands that ended in sharp claws, a whole body covered in tattered clothing, and lost most of its transparency.

Taking a risk, I ordered it out of the tent and into the camp to face the light of a soft campfire. It flinched from the light, but something else caught my eye: the blades of grass around its feet were freezing solid. Interesting... its chilling aura became better.

Before the patrolling soldier returned, the wraith went inside to siphon the remaining sleeping soldier. But to my surprise, the wraith emitted a shrilling scream as it engulfed the sleeping soldier in directional Lesser Aura: Fear.

The warrior jolted awake but was unable to move. I watched as his counterpart came to his aid. Upon seeing the wraith, he instinctively swung his Willpowered sword—it had no effect. Like a madman, he continued to swipe at it, mistakenly ripping into the tent and getting his blade stuck.

Enlightenment kicked in, and he shoved his torch into the wraith. My wraith screeched out in pain before fleeing out into the night. The remaining two witnessed their dead counterparts, and fear gave birth to uncertainty.

They rushed outside and checked their surroundings while bickering about their next course of action. I slowly made my way toward them. But, one of them suddenly remembered a Scryer resting on one of their dead counterparts.

PAIN

Dammit!

I cursed as they rushed back into the tent. I can not let them contact Cain! They searched the bodies of their companions as I bolted off through the sky and zipped above the camp.

I spotted them, but in my haste, my glare gave away my position, and they both snapped their heads up at me. The one holding the Scryer, his finger lit up, and he slid them into the grooves.

SOLDIER

Master Cain!

I flew down toward him, letting go of my sword and flattening out my hand.

SOLDIER

Master Cain, can you hear me!?

I aimed my flattened hand at him, creating my Fire Blade that shot out like a beam of fire. His companion dove into him, tackling him out of harm's way as my blade of fire incinerated the ground and tent behind him.

Without pause, I Shadow Phased into the ground. I dove deep, and through the eyes of my ghost, I saw their confusion as they wondered where I had gone.

SOLDIER

He is not answering!

I heard him whine as I focused mana into the ground beneath the two of them.

OTHER SOLDIER

God dammit Cain! We have to get out of here!

As if I would let them. I reached out from below, and the ground beneath them instantly liquified into sand that whipped up around them like giant hands grabbing hold of them. They nearly broke free with Willpower, but I was quick, transmuting the sandy earth into spikes that punctured through them. They were resilient, and I squeezed tightly. I felt them squirm vainly with Willpower against the earthly spikes, but I refused to let up. Ever so slowly, the spike began to peel through their light armor and into their skin. Then a jolt shook the air as the hand of earthly spikes crushed them completely.

Regret overcame me as I watched their torn-apart corpses fall. That was a waste of two good corpses. I resurfaced from the shadow of a nearby tent.

PAIN

Well, I still have four decent ones left.

I mumbled, looking down at a shriveled soldier lying limp in his light armor.

I blinked and looked around me. Souls from my past hunt of Blades lingered. I journeyed through the campsite, harvesting each soul until I stopped at the cave's mouth. I could hear Grungir's soul pleading for forgiveness from where I stood.

I entered the lightless cave and activated my Petty Night Vision. Following Grungir's cries, I approached his soul's silhouette that was bent over on all fours and sobbing for forgiveness. I sat on the ground before his soul and looked past it at Kratos' soul, hovering silently over the spot where he was slain.

PAIN

I was pretty angry when I fought you two.

I confessed.

PAIN

But I do not regret it. Even if I had let you two live, we would have fought either way... eventually.

Ringa, Burla, and Charla's dead bodies flashed across my mind, and I furrowed my brow in disgust. They were refugees this lot killed and sought to rape.

PAIN

You lot were shitty people. I hate kinans. But I hate slavers the most.

I reached out and harvested their souls along with others nearby. I then stood and cleared the cave of any lingering souls.

Outside, I created a bed of floating dirt and stone to carry the bodies back to the watchtower. Along the way, I had my ghosts roam around the plains, searching for any soldiers I had missed.

I arrived at the watchtower and called my horde of ghosts to scour my lair to be extra cautious. I gathered the corpses and returned to my lair, confident there were no more Fire Kingdom soldiers in my wilderness.

Flying upon my sword with the wind blowing through my hair and causing my cursed arm to flail, a sense of appreciation for myself came over me, and I smiled softly. Recall Memory replayed my journey from escaping the Fire Kingdom up to this point. I knew I had grown stronger, but as I neared my lair and the speck that was Dagon City became visible, I knew there was still a threat that could subdue me.

I touched down a few meters south of my lair's secret entrance. Noticing a decent small clearing to the east, I figured it would be a good spot to plant the Incomplete Seed of Lek. Within the center of the clearing, I knelt down and commanded the dirt and soil to funnel inward, creating a hole perfect enough to drop in the golden apple.

Upon covering up the seed, a quaking pulse shook the ground, and pure mana energy whipped out from the seed. I raised my arm, shielding myself as I took to the air. The seed's energy collided against the trees, bushes, and fauna alike, grabbing hold of their essence and draining them dry.

I gawked at the spreading barren of land that surrounded the seed.

PAIN

Hmm...

I grunted to myself.

PAIN

The whole point of planting it here was to keep it hidden.

I noticed the corpses were unharmed by the pure energy, so I touched down and approached the Incomplete Seedling of Lek. Interesting... the name changed. I squatted down before it, feeling a gentle aura of pure mana energy akin to Lek's radiating from it. Studying the seedling, it looked no different than a standard baby tree stem.

Lek's voices echoed into my head, Sow my incomplete seed within the earth. It shall grow with what you despise the most.

I eyed the shriveled corpses and approached the pile, knowing all too well what I despised the most... kinans, vile creatures that fought over the most confounded things possible. No wonder we—no— they wrote books about the charming heroes, the dazzling princesses, and the bold adventurers that give hope to the unfortunate. The entire race was the unfortunate ones, wishing deep down to be the loving heroes they constantly imagined themselves to be.

I telekinetically grabbed a corpse and hovered it over the seedling. Then I realized,

PAIN

How in damnation do I feed it?

Careful not to crush the seedling, I pushed the corpse close—nothing—gently placed it on top of the seedling—nothing. Did they have to be alive, I wondered. I continued trying different techniques—any Recall Memory could muster up.

After a few minutes of trying, I removed the dead Blaster's glove to attempt skin contact, and the moment his palm touched the seed, its entire body disintegrated into mana energy that was then absorbed by the seed.

I stared, partially shocked and amazed about the horror that would have been if he was alive.

PAIN

Fascinating,

I uttered as I watched the seed grow slightly. I fed the remaining bodies to it, leaving their clothing, weapons, and armor behind. Even with seven corpses, the seedling was still a tiny sprout, a thin stem poking out of the mound.

Curiosity struck me—what if I were to feed it living kinans? Would their souls be added, and does the amount of blood and mass matter?

A grim thought slid across my mind as I flew up to get a good look at the Dagon City, a speck at such a distance. The thought of revenge swelled in my mind, followed by the hunger to drain the city of blood.

Unfortunately, the thought of it left me. Those innocents were not the ones who ordered the death of those vampires. But in time, I will find out who gave the order to kill, and they alone will pay. As for the seedling, I had time, and plenty of adventurers will soon discover life among these wilds. And, according to the books I read, for every group of adventurers, there was a foolish group who deserved a knife in the back.