That was utterly exhausting! Trying to actively control a single Unit for that long was not something that Mar wished to repeat again, controlling an almost immesurably tiny piece of oneself was waaaay too much work for their liking. Collectives could handle such from now on while Mar dealt with the big picture agenda.
It had become so strenous to converse with that tiny indivdual that Mar had to vacate the discussion early rather than dealing with it any further. Well at least their Mastery had increased to 8 for the trouble it had caused them. Mar could taste a new tier being reached any second now and they wondered if a new Rank would come with it as well.
But it was time to prepare the parade, especially all of the workers that would be needed to demolish and convert all the wood that could be used for biomass rather than whatever the humans were currently using it for. Especially, those wooden walls would be a pleasure to have removed and put to a better use.
However, they all knew what was the true source of anticipation and that was that delightful god waiting to be consumed and added to the Swarm. Mar could feel his broken spirit, the despair that had smashed through that once proud divine confidence.
"Get off your fields and out of your town, huh? Well I think not, I think that they are my fields and my town, but do not worry you do not have to get out. You will be part of us too"
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Heraclius faced fewer difficulties than expected when he delivered the terms back to the remainder of the town. Oh, people refused to do it, but they were either beaten into submission by desperate people or the men that Heraclius still had at this disposal within Hor or talked into giving up when people pointed to the flickering barrier around Hor. This might have escalated further but starving children made difficult choices remarkably easy for most people, even the non-parents in town accepted that simple fact.
As a final nail in the coffin the golden barrier around Hor shattered like a dry twig beneath a sledgehammer. Which ultimately left it a hopeless proposition, the few remaining Priests prayed outside at the town square and as for the Clergy of Old Yoss, well all but Helena had tried to valiantly stand at the door to their temple but clubs and determined parents made them bend as well.
Only Old Yoss himself was left alone as the grief stricken townsfolk didn't actually have it in them to strike down their own most cherished ancestor who had become a god. Even desperate people had certain standards after all, and it took only an hour for the entire population of Hor and its environs to stand/sit/or lay at attention outside of their homes and or makeshift living space within the town. Every adult and child no matter if they were men, women, or something else were weeping, shivering, or raging as they waited for the inevitable. Some had committed suicide out of desperation, but those were not derided for it by the living at this time.
The gates were open and welcomed the invaders as the final spore rain came down on the town and the coughing townsfolk suddenly had to contend with the infection moving through their bodies. At least it was a much gentler experience than it would have been if they had resisted the infection.
Mar the Sovereign Swarm, didn't pay them any mind as their invasion party went to the one unclaimed place in the entire town. The Temple of Old Yoss, it was time to claim the one being that Mar had coveted more than anything in their brief existence in this world.
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Old Yoss was carving a stick when they found him, he had not stepped out after his clergy who had been dragged out kicking and screaming by the club wielding mob. He had accepted his fate, but going out like the rest of the townsfolk? Playing along with the sick game of the Thrall-King? No, that he refused to do.
He would face his fate like a man and not like a slave. If the monster wanted to claim him then it would have to come and take him. The faith that powered him was so clogged that he could only provide the loosest of tricks, but even if he had no powers at his disposal he would still fight to the last.
If he could make a single turnip survie during an epedmic then he could face down a Slaver-Monster with dignity. So, when the crowd of puppets and monsters entered his abode he didn't give them satisfaction of displaying his growing fear. Human puppets, those large fungal hybrid creatures, the soldier "bugs", and other monsters filled up the small temple, and they were just the advanced troop. It took only moments for the room to be filled with buzzing of countless insects as ants, beetles, wasps, termites, flies, and other crawlers entered the building and climbed up to cover every wall of the place along with the roof.
"So, you have come for an old man after all."
The short figure dropped his stick and looked to see if the Thrall-King itself would be in the temple, but no only the monsters were there and he arched an eyebrow.
"Oh? Has your master not bothered to come here himself? Do I not even warrant that much after he crippled me?"
"The charade is not needed any longer...or rather it is not needed in here. Later it will be needed, but we are here...we have been waiting for you."
To his surprise one of the human puppets spoke with a vacant and rusty voice. He must have been an older lumberjack in life, a proper worker if Old Yoss had ever seen one. A man who he would have respected, but who was now reduced to a mere tool. The content of the message was disconcerting, it hinted to something far greater than a simple monster, but Old Yoss was tired and he was not interested in trading jibes.
"Let's get it over with."
He said and the 3 foot tall god leapt off the little stool he had been sitting on and he did what honor demanded. He fought until the last and used his divine strength for all that it was worth to batter and toss around the attacking monsters until the infection from the insects along with their collective might brought him down.
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Unlike the time that Mar had accidentally made her first subject in Ysandra, they were prepared for what came next this time. When the god tried to recoil from the embrace of the fragment that sought to add him to the handholding circle, Mar didn't give him time to consider the situation. He broadcasted his demand to the tiny spec and joined it in battle.
"SUBMIT."
Their minds then joined and the weight of an entire swarm met the stubborn pettiness of an old Farmer who also happened to be a god. And Mar had to admit one thing, his will was far more formidable than Ysandras. Which made this battle a far different proposition than last time.
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When Mar had faced the dryad in a battle over her soul it had been a desperate and savage struggle where the two identities clashed and sought to tear each other apart. For a while there the two parties had practically ceased to exist and become some kind of indistinguishable mush of will and experiences.
Old Yoss faced Mar with the calm of a man used to battling the seasons and taming the very land itself. His self-discipline and sheer spite was formidable and he held them at bay with consumate ease as he erected layer upon layer of wheat fields between the two minds for Mar to run themselves ragged through.
It was a dance between souls as two immortal souls clashed and retreated in a mind numbing flurry of twirls and faints. Right step and then a spin to unleash another horde of infected rats, which was matched with a left step and a pirouette to counter it with a stray wheelbarrow.
He opened his arms in an invitation and Mar grinned as if seduced, just as insects tried to dig underneath the roots of his protective fields and ravage his territory behind enemy lines, but he just countered with an appel and thickening the grasping wheat roots.
Mar stepped into the ballroom fully and brought it down to a slower pace as they tried to crush that stubborn little man beneath the weight of their fragments. He was no less bold as he moved onto the floor with them and he wrestled a simple shed between the two of them as a shield.
Two immortals danced with daring and grace, no they fought with calculated restraint. Was there a difference? Did they matter? For the two engaged in an immortal game, the purest of battles fought beyond the trappings of ordinary lives. Without soldiers, worshipers, monsters, and weapons. All crude matter was stripped away from them and even their minds were not truly the ones at play here. Soul faced soul and both longed to beat the other.
The Sovereign sought complete domination, to lead the dance and bring it to a quick and ultimately final conclusion. The First Farmer of Hor sought no grand goal nor even his own survival, only to spite his foe and frustrate them into giving up. Petty rage fought against grand ambition and the battle grew more savage as the Sovereign lost ground.
An elegant ballroom waltz became an erratic farmer's boogie, as the spiteful little man began to push Mar further and further back. They misstepped and in frustration escalated the speed and called to them fragments to be sacrificed as fuel, but power meant little if you couldn't seize control over the situation.
Thousands of Fragments were wasted as Mar unleashed more and more power through their soul and that arrogant little man kept slipping out of her grip. He even pushed her with a barrage of shovels after he glissaded past them.
Even marred by the rite and with the brand on his body he was still stronger than she was, at least on paper he carried more power in his soul than she did. Unfortunately for him, there was one consistent truth that defined Mar almost as much as their desire to dominate all that lived. Mar...cheated and did so without hesitation.
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Ysandra finished her ritual circle and sat down to meditate when the order came that the god was going to be infected. Mar had learned that when certain beings were infected it was not just going to be a battle in their body but also in their soul, and while they were confident they didn't believe in risk.
Mar believed in preparation and Ysandra was more than happy to oblige her. Soul magics were far from her forte at present, but she thought that was likely to change as she studied her purpose for existing and her most beloved master. The power of the Sovereign Swarm was new in this world and she were certain that she would learn a great deal from studying that power.
However, now she didn't need to be good only to be able to add her soul to the coming battle and she was confident that her simple ritual should do just that. It wouldn't last long but that was not the intention either, it was only to serve as an adequate distraction and equalizer so Mar could do what they were destined to.
Ancient magic that drew upon principles that Ysandra never would have dabbled with in her past life flared up as she mediated in the circle and Mar engaged Old Yoss in battle. Three shapes lay on the ground around the circle and Ysandra looked at them disinterestedly. Unconcious humans given to her from the raid on the fortress, they were defective and their blood would serve a better purpose here.
So, without wasting any more time as soul battles could take only a few moments she clapped her hands and crushing roots reached out and suffocated the three sacrifices in moments. Ysandra reached through their connection and began pouring the ancient power of the Forest combined with Demonic Blood Magic into the battle.
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Old Yoss was satisfied in knowing that even if he was going to be corrupted by this thing and its poison, he would get the last laugh in that he would humiliate it in this battle. It was a truly unique opponent as it at times looked like a swarm containing millions of life forms and at other times like a crisped and almost faded human. It flickered from shape to shape as the two dance-fought through the space between their souls.
Then, suddenly howling bloody spectres appeared in the battle. Horrific creatures coated in roots and rotting leaves that charged at him and broke the two combatants apart as he suddenly had to fend for his very soul.
"What-"
Unlike the unknown foe that had branded him, these three spectres fought him without a shred of intellect or consideration. They just screamed and wailed at him as their bloody fingers tried to dig into his "flesh" and rend him apart.
Old Yoss might have been little but he was stronger than he looked like and he fought back in turn as they battered one another. Ultimately they were nothing compared to him but he didn't get much of an opportunity to recuperate once he finally finished them off. As a tidal wave of chitin hit and pushed him deep into the recesses of his soul.
"Got you."
An almost playful voice reverberated through his being as he felt thousands of limbs batter him into a pulp beneath the weight of the soul tangling with his. Then a hand grasped him through his puffy hair and dragged him towards the smiling fragment that had originally greeted him here. He saw what was happening and tried to struggle but he burned human dragged him kicking and screaming towards the fragment until he was pushed into their embrace.
And so he was usurped.