It was like I was trapped within the stomach of a colossal creature.

Then the flesh turned into a thick syrup. Honey like in terms of appearance.

This honey was unbound by the laws of gravity and floated all around me. I was no longer in a cave, or a stomach. I was now in the centre of a hurricane of purple honey.

And then in what could have been a second or an eternity. The honey fell downwards, turning into the angry ocean.

There were ripples, no waves. Only sincere gentle hatred.

And after sinking into the ocean, time ceased to exist.

I was nothing once more, or maybe I was everything.

When I was summoned again I barely had time to process my regained sentience.

My creator must have needed me desperately for my physical form was manifesting at an unprecedented speed.

Once I had fully materialised I could see why they were so desperate.

The two tents in the south and east were on fire, and I could even spot a few running and screaming Arthian soldiers who were also on fire.

The walls were completely and utterly breached, their sentries corpses strewn all over the place.

The sandy structures and stable had managed to resist being set on fire but they had to contend with, something.

Something monstrous, something which felt similar to me.

“Phaeraxion, hold off the Rovers so that we can escape.” My creator panickedly orders through the link.

I had hardly noticed them with all the carnage occurring around me. I couldn’t even send them my affirmation before they begin to flee with their cohort of mages and soldiers.

The southern and east sides were burning, if I went there I would have difficulty telling friend from foe thanks to the smoke.

So it was either the west or east that I would have to defend.

The north housed the stables and was rather open compared to the west which had numerous small structures.

If I was going to be fighting multiple humans a smaller space to do it in would probably be best, so hurriedly I start to make my way west.

The other summon was busy with the stables but an attack of this scale should involve actual Rover soldiers, so I was hardly in less danger.

The vast amount of the fighting in the west was being done in the centre of the structures, so that was where I was going to go.

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Passing by the first few buildings, all I can see are dead bodies. Almost all of them were Arthian pikemen and spearmen.

A swordsmen leaps out from behind one of the structures to take a swing at me but I pummel them in the side of their head with a tentacle.

They let out a gasp and I take that opportunity to dart my tendrils down their throat, shredding their insides and making them vomit up blood, just to gag on it since my tendrils are currently blocking their airway.

After a few seconds of turning their insides into tomato soup, I withdraw my tendrils and move on.

Leaving them to gurgle and projectile vomit blood onto the sand.

It's not like I was needlessly cruel, this wasn’t done for the sake of enjoyment. If anything it made me feel rather unpleasant, all that blood on my tendrils was just so icky.

But it was a necessity, breaking a human's morale was an incredibly important factor in fighting them.

If I hadn’t broken the bandit's morale in my last summoning then I would have only been able to kill maybe twenty of them at most. Rather than the hundred or so that had died after being overwhelmed with fear.

That brutal death I gave the Rover had either gone unnoticed or done nothing to dissuade the attackers, as another one pounces out at me.

Turning around to face them and crush them into a paste was a mistake though, as another two dart out from inside one of the sandy buildings and cut off a few tendrils.

I snap into action just a little too late and only barely miss one of the soldier's heads with a tentacle as they duck down.

The one who had been acting as a distraction wasn’t so lucky though, and ends up slamming into the ground as I manage to clip them around the side of the head.

Ignoring the other two I rush over to them and smash them back into the ground just as they were starting to get up.

Lifting their head up, I slam it down, then I lift it up again, then I slam it down.

Their friends charge at me but that's exactly what I want.

My back might have fewer limbs than my front or sides, but I had a weapon.

Lifting up the barely conscious soldier I swing them around and just narrowly manage to hit the duo. Letting go of my impoverished weapon I send all three flying into one of the buildings.

Winded and wounded. All I had to do now was finish them off.

While stalking towards them. I made sure to keep an eye on my surroundings and it's a good thing I did because out of nowhere another trio emerged.

They hesitate for a brief second but then bravely or comradery propel them forwards and they join the fight.

Hurling little swords at my eye to try and blind me while edging their way towards their fallen friends.

I act like it works, moving up most of my tentacles to shield my eye and waving my tendrils around as though I was in pain or irritated.

Then, just as they reached their friends I sprung forth.

Charging at them as fast as I possibly could, I cover the distance of two dozen feet in just two seconds and slam into them.

Shattering bones their bones alongside whatever semblance of a plan these soldiers had.

Grabbing one of the more lucid soldiers, I start twisting their arm around at all possible angles, treating the formally rigid limb like it was one of mine.

Shattering what few bones remained whole in their right arm.

The sheer pain and agony they felt made them fall unconscious.

And so, I dropped their broken body to the floor and moved on to the next one.

Maybe there were better ways to dampen morale rather than crippling soldiers but I was rather unaware of any better methods.

I needed time to properly form, time I hadn’t been given.

Even though I was now a part of reality I still felt, unreal.