At least that’s what I was going to do until I spot my creator amidst the crowd of soldiers entering the fort.

Hurriedly I start to move towards her but she raises her hand up and waves me away with a strained look on her face.

So instead I divert my path and begin to walk around the fort walls, acting as though I’m inspecting them, though it's not really an act since I am actually taking a close look at each and every scratch on them.

There aren’t very many battle marks to look at but the few scars there are seem to have been done by arrows impacting the wall, so at least I’ve learned something.

The defenders must have had archers stationed in the keep or other defensive areas within the interior of the fort and either these archers were poor shots or they were facing incredibly skilled opponents.

Or target practice maybe, but this section of the wall has a considerable collection of broken arrows littering the ground so that seems unlikely, after all wouldn’t they have cleaned up after themselves if it was for practice?

Quietly wandering around the wall I use what little time I have left to analyse it, I mean my creator was obviously always right so my duty lay in investigation for this summoning, the only issue is that I don’t think that's what the other humans want me to do.

So by stalking around the wall, I’m able to both establish a perimeter like Malgazar is doing and also attempt to decipher any clues, it's a win-win, my creator gets to be happy and so do the other humans.

I don’t know for how much longer I can keep this up though, I’m absolutely starving, in another minute or so I’ll start losing limbs.

Lumbering slowly, I complete my fourth round of the fort walls, however before I can go for my fifth and likely last round, I hear a scream.

A dreadful horrible scream, what's worse is the wave of pain slamming into me through the link.

My creator, what’s happened to her?!

Whipping around I charge towards where the screams coming from, barging straight into a small group of soldiers in the process and sending them flying from the impact.

I don’t pause for even a second though, my creator is in danger and I will do whatever it takes to protect her.

There's three possible buildings she could be in, the storehouse, the watchtower, or the barracks.

If only I had more acute hearing perhaps I could more easily figure out which one she’s being attacked in rather than just having to rely on the link to guide me.

But presently this link is all I’ve got since there's been no further screams, the Arthian soldiers aren't even doing anything, what's wrong with them?

Following the blows of agony that pound into me over and over again, I rush towards the ruined watchtower, it's where my intuition is leading me and my link is becoming increasingly more powerful as I draw closer to it.

Hardly slowing down I compress myself and slither my way through a giant crack, the jagged edges tear at my flesh but I concern myself only with getting inside, I have to save her.

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

Squeezing my way through the gap, the first thing I focus on is my creator's attacker, self loathing fills my non existent heart when I realise that she’s the soldier I saw lingering around her earlier.

She barely gets to turn around and face me before I’m upon her, ripping her apart limb by limb with my tentacles while gutting her like a fish with my tendrils.

This monstrous oaf, she’s attacked my creator, she’s attacked the embodiment of perfection and everything good in the world.

Hatred doesn't even come close to describing this visceral emotion that I’m feeling, it makes me want to freeze and just explode, it even overpowers the raw overwhelming hunger that’s been a staple part of every summoning I’ve been in.

As I’m shredding her remaining flesh into little chunks of meat, a revelation hits me, what's happened to my creator?

I’ve been so preoccupied with bloodshed I’ve neglected the sole reason why I’m even shedding blood, my poor creator.

Bowing down, I reach out to pick up her fragile form but stop myself. She’s barely breathing, I can’t afford to move her and make the dozen stab wounds even worse.

I want to believe that most of the blood on the floor is from the spy but her almost translucent, pale skin robs me of that false perception.

She’s dying, she’s dying and there's nothing I can do to help her.

No, there has to be something, this can’t be how she dies, the sun can’t be extinguished and she shines far more brightly than it does so surely there has to be something I can do?

What can I do? How can I save her?

Damm it, I’m built for killing not healing, maybe…Maybe that's the issue?

Is the issue me?

Of course it is, how can I possibly be a good summon if I can’t keep my creator safe?

I should have been protecting her instead of walking in a circle around the fort, yes it was what she wanted me to do but still, she only did that because the empire ordered her to, how can I possibly risk her safety just to make some pathetic empire happy?

Why wasn’t she protected?

Why was there a Rover wearing the outfit of an Arthian soldier?

Why was I so pathetic?

I’m a failure, it's my duty and purpose to keep her safe and yet I’ve failed.

And I’m running out of time to figure out a solution, I’m also dying, I didn’t notice it at first but my limbs are starting to disintegrate, I’m starving to death while she bleeds to death.

What can I possibly do?

Maybe I can inject her with the last dregs of mana I have? Sacrifice my remaining lifespan on this plane in exchange for her wellbeing?

Left with little in the way of options I gently touch her forehead, using the tide pattern I’ve developed to push the few scraps of mana I have left into her, it seems to slow the bleeding thankfully, either that or she’s running out of blood.

But the moment my mana enters her body it breaks free of my control, I can’t do any proper acts of healing, she’s still dying, just more slowly.

The mana I have isn’t enough, I’m going to have to use my active mana.

Wrapping every single remaining limb I have around her, I forcefully dissipate them, pushing the mana into her.

I collapse beside her, yet I don’t stop, I keep trying.

Until I can’t try anymore, I’m dissipating completely, my time in this world has come to an end.

As I fade into oblivion, the ocean rapidly taking hold of me, I wish with every last drop of consciousness that she recovers.