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Heat…

A dry and arid wasteland…

A sea of seemingly endless dunes and sand…

A pack of sandworms breach the pristine sands in the distance, their long massive frames move through the ground as dolphins move through the waves. Gitarbilu scutter beneath the sands occasionally peeking from their hidden alcoves. Gangs of rare sand sharks lurk the sea of sand their fins and trails the only evidence of their existence. He has been trudging through this desert for how long now, Five six days? He doesn’t care anymore. The mamono have mostly left him alone. They either caught Rhun’s scent on him or they feel the malice seething from him. Either way the outcome is the same, no mamono has gotten in his way and he was able to trek through the unforgiving desert without stop. The Palmo Barrens is an unforgiving place; many armies have tried to cross the sea of dunes only to be swallowed whole by either its inhabitants or the sand itself. Their target; the City state of Berkant, a dangerous and lawless place ruled by the council of Thirteen powerful warlords who’s harsh tyranny keep the failing state intact. The people who inhabit the city as a whole are extremely divided. Such disunion, such ruthless lack of cooperation is only surpassed by people’s insatiable need to survive, thrive and reign over their brethren. In Berkant there is no pity, remorse, compassion, or mercy. Though no matter how divided they may be, they are none the less unified by a single cause, to protect their wonderful utopia of scum and villainy. Now Jorge makes his way to the city of sin and betray on his quest for vengeance. Several of his targets fled to this town hoping to buy the loyalty of a crime lord or simply hide within the over populated walls of that rat nest. A decision they will soon regret as there is no such thing as loyalty in the city of rats.

Jorge wallows through the deep sands, his feet kicking up bones of long forgotten souls and unearthing the recently deceased.

“Huh. That’s odd. Why would anyone travel so far from the city to bury a body?” He grabs the hooded body and glances at his surroundings before giving the corpse his full attention. “Now let’s see who this unlucky bastard is… Heh. Heh heh heh. Ha ha ha hahahahah! Oh it had to be you didn’t it? Uhhh… what was your name? Valin right? Valin the rouge! Well isn’t it my lucky day! Looks like I won’t have to murder you after all! HA!” Jorge raises his middle finger up to the sky, the ruddy sun rising on the horizon. “What was that about me sowing misery Vivictus? What was that about me suffering while chasing these bastards down? They practically kill themselves!”

As Jorge finishes his sentence several Kunoichi and hooded figures burst from the sand and throw knives at him. They were waiting for someone, someone of importance but he just happened to take his sweet time on that spot and annoyed the bandits. Much to their surprise the knives bounce off Jorge’s heavy armor not even scratching its marred frame. They were not expecting an armored target. How could they? After all who in their right mind would wear heavy armor in this heat, who would wear anything that cumbersome in the desert? If they want to take him down quickly they’ll have to get in close. One of the male bandits, Russom, rushes in mail breaker in hand and stabs Jorge in the underarm. The large protruding spike digs deep into him and digs deeper as the banditforces his weapon in deeper. Then Jorge looks down at him in confusion then brings his hand down on the thief with a resounding thud. The group stops circling the monster before them as their comrade goes down limp as a sack of potatoes. Then they continue to stare in horror as their intended prey pulls the mail breaker free from his body; No man should have survived that, no man or mamono could have survived that. What was before them was a monster and if they stayed they too would end up like Russom. One of the bandits, Lachland, calls out to the gang telling them to retreat but one stays behind. A lone kunoichi stands there as her comrades flee the battle. She looks down at the unmoving man as tears start to well in the corners of her eyes. The man she loved was gone, taken from her by this cruel world, by this monster! Asharru reaches behind her atrophied wings and pulls out a small falchion, one made of real steel. She had just lost the love of her life and thus had nothing to lose. She rushes in at the iron clad monster before her, falchion slashing at every opportunity she gets. Sparks fly to and fro, chips of metal flake off the blade with every strike and Jorge brings both his hands down with another resounding thud. “Huh… That was weird. Mamono usually don’t use real weapons.” He shrugs before he goes back to looting the fallen rouge he was hunting pulling from him a wooden carving of Asja and Regina in a rather compromising position. “So that’s where that went? Glad the guards didn’t see this or the rest of my hidden collection…”

The wind starts to kick up once Jorge is finished looting and covers up his handy work. “Guess I’ll have to be a little more careful now.” He thinks to himself. “But hey he’s no saint and was bound to anger someone eventually.” He merely shrugs off the assault as a minor inconvenience and continues his march to Berkant with a little more skip in his step knowing that one of his targets has been taken care for him.

“He really is gonna have a bad time there isn’t he Anora?”

“I guess… But who cares? He’ll probably die quickly in that town anyways!” The first sandshark punches the second, Anora, and sends her face first into the hot desert sand. “What the hells wast that for Zarifa! Like seriously what’s wrong with you!” Zarifa, the first sandshark strikes her partner once more and covers her mouth.

“Shut it! You’re going to give our position away. Besides don’t you know who that is? That’s public enemy number one; don’t know that he’s doing here but we better hurry back and tell the boss what we saw. Who knows, she might speed up the attack and we could get out of this dump. Almost on cue the sand storm kicks up and slowly conceals the pair who lay motionless in the distant dunes.

Contents

1

 The city is an unforgiving place for both sinners, saints and any who wish to stand against it. Though it does not have a true standing and united military it has never lost any decisive battle. Though criminals flow through the streets as blood through the veins of the living its people of the town continue to prosper and flourish like maggots in a fresh carcass. Once they mature and grow wings they fly about and find another fallen to feast upon; thus the cycle continues, that’s how it was and it will always be. No matter the army, no matter what righteous cause, assassination, political turmoil or peasant revolution the city will stand. And it will always be this way, the city will continue to stand as a monument to all their sins for not even the efforts of the Order or the Mamono principality could bring the Berkant to its knees. But even now another attempts to change this, another challenger rallies their warriors in the distance for this city has no love for the righteous be they man or mamono; and many a dark priest have meet an untimely end in this hive of scum and villainy. The mamono by virtue are a loving and nonviolent race but even such evils and corruption will push them to violence; and that is what this city is, corruption incarnate. But despite the horrible state of the city or perhaps becaue of it the town had accumulated the largest amount of wealth in the region and the eyes of many kingdoms and armies. But all of them crashed against the walls of Berkant and all of them continue to lie there to this day; their bones used inadvertently to pave the road into the beasts maw. Jorge approaches the gates of the city; its bone encrusted road giving a sick crunch with every step, its twin gates both lay agape, the walls devoid of guards and the sand blowing strong behind him. He wishes to seek shelter and finish his work here as quickly as possible but this is wrong. He does not know how this city truly works, how a place with no true protects its borders from unwanted visitors. He looks up at the massive spiked door and can’t help but be reminded of a giant set of teeth… and it seems that the gate has had a recent meal as well. He knows better than trust this city and its people and waits just outside the gate until he finally makes up his mind and goes to spring the possible trap. Jorge walks back several meters away from the gate and takes a runners stance and readies himself for a sprint to the finish. He waits for a strong gust of dust to cloud any onlookers then bolts forward with the speed of a prize winning stallion. He makes it past the first gate in seconds and past the second in half the speed but something’s wrong. The gates never slammed down, arrows never rained down upon him and no one attempted to stop him. He had made a fool of himself as he believed that the criminals were more organized, more cunning. But it seems that the stories were false as the only soul guarding the gate was a lone child uglier than sin that stood there guffawing and chortling at the spectacle he just saw.

The child, despite being very rotund, had very angular and chiseled features but at the same time they were disproportionate and cartoonish. His face was round, too round, ears as large as apples; his blond hair was equal parts nappy, smooth and its tips frosted a dark brown. The eyes were as wide as saucers and yet as thin as a fine blade and his mouth… lips as thin yet somehow wide and shining as a polished table, teeth as jagged and filthy as rotting cheese. And the chins he possessed were innumerable and moved with a life of their own as it continued to laugh hysterically.  The child was a living contradiction and Jorge no longer wished to behold the monstrosity before him and quickly made his way into the town which was in the middle of a giant brawl. Men, women, boys and girls, mamono and humans all could be seen in the street all participating in the favored pastime of surviving. The streets were filled with beggars and brigands, drunks and despicable, man and mamono, all of them in a constant struggle. They fought for every scrap and luxury they could get their claws on; speaking of fighting to survive a rather peculiar sight beheld him. A strangely dressed man was flung out from the doors from the nearest bar followed by a group of youths clad in ragged clothing and leather.

Thug 1: “You should know your place old man! You can’t just get on our turf and make us look bad!”

Thug 2: “What’s the matter old man? Can’t handle your drinks?”

Thug 3: “Awww? What’s tha matter hun? Never been beaten by a Wheresheep before?”

Thug 4: “Look at him! He’s struggling to get up! HA! He can’t even handle a few drinks!”

The old man wore an oversized velvet robe decorated with silver stars, crescent moons and a large pointy hat to match. He looked quite out of place in such a city where standing out would most certainly get you killed; Jorge contemplated helping the old fool but doing so would just bring everyone’s attention on him. The old man spoke in a tired, ragged voice as he worked his way back on his feet. “I-I *buuuuurrrp!* I have been to the Promised Land, I have seen the future and! And… and you’re not…” He quickly flips through the tome that fell out of his satchel then turns back to the gang of youths. “And you’re not there!” In an instant he throws his hand out and from it he expels flaming bricks striking down the youths as if they were flies. “Ha! I told you punks not to mess with me! I’ve ended more lives than you’ve had hot meals! But now if think about the lot of you probably didn’t have many meals between you... But I’m bad news! Alla you better watch out! I’m wanted in multiple realms for my crimes! I am Tolon the substantial, destroyer of crops, bringer of woe and destroyer of simes!” Jorge’s eyes widen at the mention of the last title. “Now kneel before me or I’ll…” Tolon’s face goes white when he sees the tall armored silhouette of Jorge standing amongst the crowd and soon realizes the true danger he is in. He’s heard the rumors of how dangerous he was, but they were just rumors right? There’s no way he’s as invulnerable as the stories say, he is just a man… but he kill his family… Heh maybe he doesn’t notice.

The wizard visibly shrinks as he tries to slink away but being the center makes escaping a little difficult. With every step he takes the dark titan follows from behind the crowd like a lion stalking its prey. Tolon is both too drunk and poorly dressed to outrun him so he’ll have to rely on his skills and unparalleled wit. The ragged old man stops and stretches in place and scratches the off white stubble on his chin before stretching in place.

“What is wrong with that man?” Jorge mumbles to himself. “What is he-“Before he can react the old wizard casts his signature spell and fires a brick straight into Jorge’s armored helmet sending him reeling back. “Son of a- Damn it! Where is he?” Jorge forces his way through the crowd and looks around frantically before he notices the path of people who parted to let the old coot pass through.

2

Two sandsharks swim through the hot desert wastes as they make their way to camp; the trip takes no less than half an hour but the silence makes it seem like an eternity. They move with haste for they have information is of vital importance, the man that has so eluded their armies and aided in the destruction of many mamono towns and strongholds. It is not long before the duo reach the edge of their camp and are greeted by a sentry.

Sentry: “Halt! Who goes there?” A burly Lizardman stands guard while a Dullahan watches from a safe distance.

Anora: “Shut up Clove! We have important information and need to tell commander Misaki right now!”

The Lizardman crosses her arms and looks down at the two as the Dullahan walks down the path. “Oh? Is this just as important as that time when some kunoichi stole your money or when that guy you meet slept with you and left before you woke up?”

Zarifa steps up and jabs Clove in her large chest. “Listen here! We actually have real information this time, we found him! We found him!”

The dullahan walks up to the trio and they go quiet as the heavily armored warrior walks up her head carefully tucked under her shoulder. “Whom did you find?”

The three walk through the camp with a sense of urgency, many mamono turning around to gaze at the two small sandsharks quietly following behind the towering dullahan until they reach a large tent surrounded by several imposing Minotaur.

Minotaur 1: “What is it this time Khai? What did the idiot twins do this time, did they get robbed again?”

Without slowing down the Dullahan walks through the two guards and enters the tent as if they were not there.

A few seconds later the second Minotaur pipes in talking to no one in particular. “What’s wrong with her?”  The first guard responds. “I don’t know but she really needs to get laid and calm down.”

Anora: “Don’t we all?” The group starts to chuckle until a the Dullahan steps out and kneels before the entrance as a long insectoid leg slowly emerges and daintily steps into the warm afternoon ground followed by several more as an ant arachne sashays into the dull sunlight. She wears little to nothing save for a large semitransparent robe trimmed with elaborate gold embroidery. The arachne moves with the grace unseen by any mortal creature and with an air of nobility and danger. “So what is of such vital importance that it requires my undivided attention? I was truly enjoying my time with my newest lover.” The two sandsharks shiver in fear as the smiling and-arachne leans in closer to them. “Well? What seems to be the matter my children? Dost thou fear me?”

The two mamono bumble about as they both say yes, no and everything in-between until the eldest twin works up the courage to speak up. “We, we found him! He’s in the town! He’s… the Blight of the Order is in Berkant!” The thin nearly closed eyes and smile slowly disappear and her eyes open slightly.

“What did you say? Surely you jest about this situation and if you have you shall pay for ruining my mood.”

The twins cower as they slowly sink into the sand until Khai the Dullahan speaks up. “If I may interrupt my misteress.”

“Proceed Khai.”

“We have word from various mamono sources that they have seen a man of similar description and stature roaming the desert for several days now but we merely passed them off as mirages. But now that our scouts have seen him firsthand we must act accordingly. So what are your orders my mistress?”

The Ant arachne’s eyes narrow once more as she paces around the twins now half buried in the sand. “It seems that a quite unfortunate stone has been thrown into our stew. But when such opportunities present themselves we must capitalize on them. Go throughout the camp and tell all to prepare to march. We shall expedite our plans and attack Berkant at sundown!”

3

The old man is nimble despite his age, he leaps from roof to roof with the agility of a young lad, but perhaps he runs for a reason like that of a armored monster hell-bent on revenge? Jorge thunders behind his quarry leaving indentations with every step he takes; yes he is damaging the homes of these poor souls but he does not care. He does not worry for them or their situation for all he sees is the target before him and all he hears are the pleading of his family as they cry out for him. His gaze never wanders from the robed figure before him; his eyes unflinching as his target jumps down to a lower ledge, his large robe fluttering up with the wind revealing his bare aged rear to Jorge’s unexpecting eyes.

“What the fu-”

Ignorant to the chaos ensuing above them a small family gathers around rickety round table. On it a meager morsel of bread and an indistinguishable creature, roasted, all on a wooden platter. The family of four hold hands around the meal, praying in unison as their meal cools down. “Our Queen who dwells above all, who has gifted us with this meal we shall enjoy today. We humble followers of your Order thank thee for your mercy and plead for salvation from the hunger that torments us. We beg of thee deliver upon us salvation from this torment and bring us prosperity…”  As Jorge shields his eyes he misses his step and falls off the roof through the ceiling of the adjacent building and into the meal that the family of peasants worked hard to scrounge together.  Wood splinters, people fall and the meager morsels of food there now gone, splattered under the immense weight of armored rear of the intruder.

“Damn it! Can’t let him get away!” The hulking figure, clad in steel, climbs through the hole he made and leaves as abruptly as he arrived and leaves their home in ruins, the few possessions they have now lay strewn about their dilapidated hovel. The chase continues for quite some time surprising Jorge seeing how even he is starting to feel a little winded yet the old man continues without… wait. Without slowing down Jorge smashes through a fireplace and throws one of the bricks into the old man’s back only for it to go through him as if he were not there.

“Damn it! Where are you?” He overhears labored laughing several meters behind him and turns around to see the old man struggling to catch his breath as he laughs painfully.

“He! Gasp-ahaha! Damn it all! Curse- Gasp- curse this old body!” He doubles over and soon collapses on the roof of the building before rolling over on his back and looking up at the crimson orange sky. “Ahhhh! I bet you’re wondering why I followed you instead of running away right.”

Jorge scoffs as he walks over the outstretched arms of the old man. “Not really, I just assumed that you were still drunk off your rocker.” He contemplates ending the elderly wizard rightly but his thoughts are cut off by the old man once more.

“To tell you the truth I don’t have much time alive and well… I just wanted to tell you… tell you that.” The old man starts to cough viciously spitting up blood and several other fluids. “I wanted to tell you that you were a bitch! But you’re a tough bitch! I want you to have my book.” He burps loudly. “It’s got a bunch of spells that have been passed down from… yeah you know it’s a damn old book!”

“And you want me to have it because?”

“Because one of those whores in the bar drugged me then took my kidneys! That’s why they kicked me out! I tried to take them back and.” He vomits in his mouth and continues talking. “Well I want you to have this as amends and crap. You know, an I’m sorry for ki-” He is cut off by a swift stomp from Jorge’s heel and soon speaks no longer.

“How convenient… He must have really been-”

Before he can finish his sentence Jorge is struck from behind by a brick wall that sends him flying sideways into another home’s roof. “Ha! You didn’t think that I would just give myself over to you like that did you? You must really be as stupid as she-” An armored gauntlet wraps around Tolon’s neck and drags him into the ruined shack below.

“She! Who is she? Where is she? WHAT IS SHE?” Jorge’s gargantuan hand tightens around the elderly wizard’s neck, lifting him off the ground and leaving him in a state of primal fear. He should have known better than to get close to him, he could have used his powers to keep harassing him from a distance but now… but now he truly had no way to escape from this beast’s grasp.

“Now is our chance! We can find the bitch that causes us suffering and finally bring her to heel!” He thought to himself before loosening his grip slightly to allow him to speak.

“Gahhh! I-I can’t tell yo- We’ve been- Gagged. Some strong magic keeps us muzzled!”

“I KNOW THAT! But would you rather die a painful death or just be caught in some endless pleasure seizure?”

“W-wait? That’s what she cursed us with? How do you kn-” Jorge squeezes once more. “Alright! Alright! I’ll talk.” Once more Jorge loosens his grip slightly and pins the wizard to the floor.

“SPEAK!” “She’s a succubu- AAAAAAGGHHH!” Tolon’s eyes roll up into his head as he moans uncontrollably, the failsafe kicked in leaving him unable to speak let alone think about anything. The filthy robes of the old man stain as he climaxes again and again and writhes in the ecstasy of continuous pleasure. Jorge looks down at him in disgust; his punishment is too lenient for the crime, his actions that of a mad man but who is he to judge? How many atrocities has he committed who is he to judge this poor old fool. Tolon hoots and howls as Jorge takes his satchel and digs through it; in it he finds pouches of gold, a carving of Rhun in a state of undress and a rather compromising position… several trinkets and finally a tome whose cover is laced with a strange brick shaped leather. He attaches the satchel onto his belt and turns to the family of man and mamono cowering in the corner and contemplates finishing his prey then and there. “Worry not my brother. They have seen worse and if not they will see worse, they live in this insanely dangerous town so it’s bound to happen sooner or later.” A black flame slithers out from the creases of his armor; wrapping around his arm like a serpent and strikes out at Tolon, bequeathing the flame unto him until nothing remains but cinder and ash.

4

A lone guard walks the perimeter of the great wall of Berkant, his partner either guarding a different position or left for home. He grudgingly walks the walls knowing that if one of the Council’s spies were to see that no one were on shift they would all suffer equally. He hates being on guard, he hates the horrible pay and long hours, he hates everything that deals with- “What the…” Across the endless waves of sand and stone, jewels of amber bob about casting long and distorted shadows beyond the reaches of sight. The undulating mass of light and dark stretches across the horizon its multiple tendrils creeping their way to the rugged and scarred walls of Berkant, their origin unclear as their intent but as with all things in this wretched town one must never trust others and take chances. The nameless guard pulls a firecracker from his satchel and ignites it, his part is done his part and now must rely on the others to do theirs. The flanks of the vertable mass of light are flanked multiple oscillating glints of scales and giant crimson eyes. The armies of the mamono are vast and diverse spanning from the smallest of the harpies to the largest of the sandworms and now they marched on Berkant in greater numbers than they have before. “Oh by the goddess’s giant teats we are fucked worse than a succubus whore on a penal colony aren’t we?” His position now given away a group of werebats flock around him waiting for the light to diminish enough to swarm, seeing the bleakness of his situation the guard holds his arms out to his sides and welcomes the sweet embrace of defeat as the flare slowly dies out its warning call left unheard.

The armies of Misaki, Devourer of Men, wearily attempt to close the distance; their heavy armor and the ludicrous pace of their march leaving them exhausted before any real combat has begun. The hordes of scantily clad warriors saunter through the unsecured gate past the multiple kill boxes, gate houses and stop before a lone child uglier than sin. The lone child stood before the opposing force, unarmed save for his hideous smile and a single hand caressing lever. His grotesque smirk reaches impossible levels of horror as he plays with the lever; they know that their fates lay in his hands and his hands are greasy and careless.

“Everyone get out of here!” One of the captains howls as she attempts to save as many of her warriors as possible before the gates slam down on the unsuspecting mamono behind them. “Damn you hideous brat! I’d kill you!” The repulsive child laughs manically as several manono pounce on him, he knows they do not kill, he knows what fate awaits him, hell maybe he’ll become an incubus after this whole thing blows over? Hells, it beats being a guard and it really beats living alone. In fact it’s his reward for defending this ungrateful hell hole and boy does he deserve it.

5

Screams, swearing, metal colliding, and blood boiling it’s absolute chaos. A single elderly man strikes the armored intruder while his family struggles to stop him and begs for mercy just as he manages to land another strike on Jorge’s breastplate as he slowly makes his way out the home, pushing past the old man, Kikimora and her husband. He offers no apologies, no reparations no explanations for his actions nor empathy for the children. This is no longer the man that left Whitemarrch weeks ago, this is no longer the man who would rather keep bloodshed to a minimum and spare children the horrors of war. But now he has become a husk of his former self. NO. He has become whole once more, he has accepted who, what he is and what his purpose on this world is. To destroy the demon lord and all who get in his way, to end the lives of those who defy the Order and be the blade of the goddess within him. He is an enforcer but now he must enforce his rule, his will on those who have wronged him and though he may not catch them all he will do his damn best. As he exits the ruined home Jorge notices the flare in the sky and stares intently, his attention drawn like a moth to a flame and before he knows it he’s following its slow fading light.

Small skirmishes erupt throughout the streets as extremist forces clash with the local gangs as they attempt to defend the territory they worked so hard to gain, all the lives they lost and ended just for this little hunk of land. No, they would not fight for Berkant but they would fight for every inch of property they have and they would make the enemy pay dearly for it. The forces of the Mamono are not too keen on the taking of lives; their armor as well as their weapons were made of demon silver and sapped the strength of their enemies with every strike leaving them with no physical injuries. While their enemies bore weapons of steel and iron capable of slipping through armor and flesh and bone. The two forces clash the organized forces of Misaki against the hardened street gangs of Berkant, the organized squads rush forward with renewed vigor only to be ambushed by the citizenry in the shadows. The city and its people have always been at odds, they have never looked eye to eye, but the relationship was bittersweet. It was a type of symbiosis; as the city provided safety of the walls, the body, while they provide the cumulative defense as antibodies would and now they were fighting a foreign invader an invader that threatened their very way of life.

Jorge watches the battle from a distance contemplating his options, choosing whether or not to assist. He has seen many mamono invasions in the past, he has seen them crawl over the largest of walls and the deepest of trenches. They were relentless, they were adaptable and they were extremely diverse. Capable of passing through rivers, arid wastes, trees air and the like; no obstacle would stop them entirely only slow them down, only annoy them and even now as he stood there and watched flying mamono drop off their more encumbered counterparts. This army was experienced in assaulting fortifications and should they be allowed to continue Berkant may actually fall.

“Heh…” He smirks before turning around and heading in the opposite direction. “Don’t worry about them, this isn’t your battle, this isn’t your home and these are not your people. Why should you-” Jorge’s instincts catch something he cannot see allowing him to dodge an incoming blow from an airborne oomukade. She slams into the ground with an unknown ferocity and strikes with multiple slashes and bites, each one closer to her mark than the last. Jorge struggles evading the furious onslaught of poison fangs and claws, oomukade are traditionally timid creatures but this one was different. She attacked with reckless abandon and zeal, her depraved smile growing larger as each one of her attacks get’s closer to her mark.

Why do you not fight back fair champion? Why do you hesitate to strike down this creature when you would so easily eradicate your fellow man? The giant centipede mamono tackles Jorge to the ground, pinning him against the filth encrusted cobble, her jaws dripping with venom as she inches to his neck. “Look at you!” The air around him goes stale as an ethereal green mist rolls in clouding everyone and thing around him. “You’ve been through worse!” His eyes shift to the voice and he sees himself, bloodied and disproportionate; his legs were thin and spindly while most of his mass was situated in his torso and arms. “Get up! FINISH HER! You’ve done it before! Mountains of monsters lying in flames- WHY IS THIS ANY DIFFERENT? You can easily crush that insect and gut it with its own mandibles! You’ve done it before so why not now! It’s easy~ Just squish the bug like you would with any other…” The mist dissipates as quickly as it appeared and Jorge finds himself fighting a creature he has never seen before, a giant centipede towers over him its mandibles snapping at his neck wildly. It wants to kill him, kill the people in this town… He can’t let this thing continue his rampage. WE can’t let this thing live! The overgrown insect rears its head back for a finishing blow; mandibles wide open, venom flowing from every pore and orifice. This is your chance… kill that bug… Jorge reaches out; blindly thrusting his arms out catching a mandible in one hand and an eye in the other. NOW! Jorge squints as he works his fingers into the beast improving his grip. It gives out a loud pained shriek as slowly but surely its carapace is torn apart and discarded on the street.

6

Every place his eyes landed he saw no mamono only monsters and men, all fighting in the streets of the city of the spurned. Jorge just stood there taking it all in, the alien nature of these creatures, the strange silence of the battle, of the creatures he’s never- “The crucible… You’ve fought these things before; you’ve been through something like this so why are you choking? Go fight!” As Jorge breaks out of shock the silence disappears and is quickly taken over by screams, the scarping of metal and crackling flames. With his newfound resolve he set forth without pity upon the beasts of nightmares tearing into them with his bare hands ripping their carapaces with zeal. Chitin shattered, bone snapped and their howls came to an abrupt and violent halt. The bane of monsters has reemerged and in his ravenous hatred he set forth bashing all those who were left unbroken by his savagery into their equivalent of hell. No ordinary soldier or warrior could stand before a horde of such magnitude; many towns and warriors were taken asunder by the demon banner. But there he stood the lone guard, the Praetorian of humanity, his armor rusted, battered, covered in unknown filth; the perfect image of the struggles of humanity. From the depths of the horde arose a great one, a champion mightier than all who had come before. The mantis strode before the lines of monsters its eyes never straying from the foul beast before her. Her features were marred; her body was a tapestry of burns, scars and the occasional patch of pristine skin.  One of her claws was replaced with a metal prosthetic and the other was worn and jagged beyond comprehension.

A distorted image of Jorge manifests besides him, he rubs his exaggerated chin and smiles with a toothy grin. “He he he… She lives… IT lives. But not for much longer. We’ll burn this plague from this sty and- NO! This isn’t our fight; this isn’t our problem. Once we destroy this beast we’ll take our leave find the last bastards and… and…” The bastardized reflection snaps his attention and snarls at Jorge.  “And what? Return to that stain you called a child? You’re no longer-” A metal claw scratches the brim of Jorge’s helmet as he narrowly avoids the beast’s strike. “So be it.” Dark flames slowly creep from every crevice in his armor. The small sparks accent his armor growing voraciously until he is completely engulfed in the foreboding flames. “Come now beast; let us put an end to this grudge so I can go.” The giant mantis screeches as its mandibles drip with saliva anticipating its next meal…

The mantis swears under her breath as she missed her one opportunity to finish the fight before it started. She barely survived the first encounter with this MONSTER and in her current form… She has to fight intelligently and keep her sisters away from him, lest they fall victim to him as well. “I won’t let you kill my sister’s monster! I’ll make sure this city becomes your grave and on that grave I’ll raise a temple to the White Succubus herself!” “A Stay back my sisters, this one is mine!” The few mamono who are not locked in combat try form a circle around the two combatants but they hesitate and form up behind the mantis.

FUFUFUFUFUFUFUF! What is this? Is my little pet project has finally found her prey? AHAHAHAHA!” From the skies comes a fainting couch hoisted by several griffins. The carved Redwood is accented by crimson velvet and a golden trim, the elaborate throne is a testament to its owner’s personality. Her Indolence, her lavish lifestyle, her malign nature; all overshadowed by her unnerving smile. “Stay away My Lady! I do not wish you to come to harm, this man, this monster is dangerous! I cannot guarantee your safety!” The mantis wishes that Misaki would stay away. She hated the ant arachne, all she did was lounge around and take credit for everything others did. But she did owe her life to her, and without it she wouldn’t have this opportunity. “What’s this? Are you giving me orders? HA! I’ll forget you said that should you entertain me properly.”

Jorge’s gaze shifts from the mantis to the giant spider then back to the mantis. The image of these beasts emulating humanity sickens him to his core and stokes the flames of anger within and around him. The increasing heat causes a powerful updraft that creates turbulence freeing the silk strands from the griffin’s grasp and plummeting into the crowd below.

“M’lady!” The formation of mamono breaks apart to attempt to catch their falling mistress. Jorge takes advantage of the confusion and rushes the reformed monster before him. With a mighty swipe of his hand a large swathe of flame reaches out, its many tongues barely licking her body. She attempts to retaliate but stops in her tracks as the events that led to her current state play in her head, her scars flicker with pain, adrenaline pumps and her metallic claw feels as if were her very flesh and blood. “No, you will not defeat me as easily as last time demon! I’ve learned your tricks firsthand and I’m ready for anything you throw my way!”

Jorge looks quizzically at the giant bug before him; it’s almost as if it’s trying to communicate with him. Is the thing crying? The image of the giant mantis blurs slightly, taking a somewhat human shape before returning to its bestial form. He shakes his head and reaches for his great swords hilt. There must be something in the air here; all the beasts must be affecting the environment. More of a reason to kill them off and leave… Jorge once more rushes the beast swinging his sword and firing flames as he tries to slay the surprisingly agile creature. Damn! It’s faster than it appears to be… Jorge stops his furious assault and starts to slowly circle the creature. The shade lets out a loud and wicked cackle into Jorge’s ear. “It’s mimicking you! The beast is smarter than you think! They all are! If you don’t destroy them all they’ll spread what they saw amongst their ilk! Destroy THEM ALL!” The dark flames increase in intensity as they burst out of every crevice in his armor. His fists shake violently, his entire body trembles and the goddesses ceaseless whispers turned to twisted laughter followed by silence. “Muhahahahahahaha….”

8

 

The attention of all the mamono shifts from their mistress as a dark cold light bathes all within eyeshot of the spectacle. The man they all once feared, the bane of many mamono factions stood hunched over, bathed in malignant flames. They did not know what to do. They had never seen such an event unfurl in their lives nor has such a thing ever been spoken of. As Misaki is hoisted up by her guards she lets out a shrill cry. “What are you all doing? He’s weak! Finish him before he recuperates!” “No m’lady! Don’t go near him, It is not-” “You dare contradict me! Everyone! ATTACK!” The Mamono no longer hesitate. They charge in despite the Mantis’s warnings; they quickly close the distance silver swords raised, claws readied and shields hoisted. But before a single blade can come in contact with his armor Jorge looks up, all four eye slits spouting flames. The ambient temperature drops significantly as a cool breeze blows in the direction of the dark pillar. Just as quickly as the temperature dropped it rises to unbearable levels causing all near its epicenter to collapse into cinders. “No! I told you all to stay…” The mantis’s voice trails away as from the wreckage a flaming behemoth breaches the berth of remains and she is reminded of the day she gained her scars. The monster that killed her parents and the man she loved. Rage overtakes her; every fiber in her being forces her body to move against her will. She’s absolutely terrified yet she moves forward, blades raised, fangs bared and she pounces upon the burning brute before her.

Jorge feels the power of the pure ignis flowing within his veins. Every heartbeat glows with fiery strength; every vein is filled with flaming power, yet he does not burn. A deep dark voice whispers from the back of his mind warning of the mamono’s attack.  “It comes for us…” And with one powerful sweep of his arm the giant insect is devoured by a swathe of dark fiery tongues, all save for her one metal claw. The prosthetic finds it’s mark in the small gap between his neck and digs deep pinning him to the ground.  He falls to the ground with a loud thud a crimson trail following him down. He was not expecting the creature to attack him, hell it looked absolutely terrified yet it still charged. Guess they aren’t as simple as he thought. “No… it charged you in desperation. These beasts act on instinct alone. Now get up! We must leave this-” The twisted copy turns to face a strange looking insect. It appears to be a giant ant yet it has eight legs and small mandibles. Well it doesn’t matter really, it’s heading in their direction and probably wants to scavenge the kill and feast on them. “Get up! One of the creatures comes for us. Rise! Strike it down!” Jorge struggles to sit up, each breath is burdened and a sick gurgling can be heard with each attempt. He manages to prop himself  on his forearms and manages to catch a glimpse of the insect heading to him.

She can’t believe it, the monster bleeds, the monster can be killed! It’s all to surreal, one moment all her soldiers being taken down by the beast only for it to be defeated by a last ditch attack by her pet project. Misaki jabs a spear like leg into his armored chest knocking the wounded knight back into the ground. “Ha! AHAHAHAH! I did it! I finally did it! After all those years!  The Monster is no more!” With newfound bravery and zeal Misaki begins to kick and strike the injured knight repeatedly, tears starting to roll down her face. “I’ve waited so long for this day… You… You sacked my hive. You killed my friends, family… MY HUSBAND! And now! Now… Grrraaaa!” The ant arachne continues to attack Jorge, all her attacks bouncing off his armor doing little more than keeping him pinned to the ground.

Jorge can do little to protect himself from the giant insect’s onslaught; it’s violently flailing limbs coming dangerously close to striking the sword lodged in his throat. He knows that the goddess won’t let him stay dead but the thought of his actual mortality actually frightens him. He has to get revenge for his family for… Nez…Nez…on. A blurry figure comes to mind it appears humanoid yet wrong, on a primordial level, on a level so base that it disturbed him. The more he focused on the memory the blurrier and more wrong it became the more he wished to destroy it and the mere thought of destroying his daughter infuriated him to the point of madness. Sparks crackle to life as his hand lays limp on the ground. The flashes of light struggle to stay alive as they scramble about and manage to ignite the air around his hand. Jorge turns his palm facedown clenching the ember in his fist feeding it his strength and condensing its terrible strength into a single point, a point of pure fire and light. The small star in his palm is difficult to maintain intact but he doesn’t need to; all he needs is for the beast to stand still…

Misaki stands over the dying knight reveling in his agony. Many have fallen at the hands of this monster, many armies routed yet here he lay broken and on the verge of death. Her thin eyes widened, her narrow smile spread and her hand moved to the blade fragment lodged within her prey; a single finger daintily fidgeted with the metal sliver and gloated over the still living knight. “Ahahahahahaha! I’ve done it! The great monster that has plagued our kind is no more! Come to me my sisters! Come and witness how I’ve slain this beast and secured this land- this WORLD for our lady! The great Druella-”

Jorge watches as multiple stragglers surround the insect above him, it appears to be chitterling; speaking to the others. But what is it- His thoughts are interrupted as the name Druella slips from the arachnid’s putrid maw. A single armored gauntlet raises itself and in an instant a concentrated beam of flame shoots forth striking the beast in the thorax and leaving it broken. Jorge struggles to push the charred remains of the giant spider off of him then fights to get to his feet. As he takes a breath his windpipe filles with his own fluids and strength quickly fades. He is dying or so he wished. She’s keeping him alive, forcing him to survive such a grievous wound despite all his pain despite all his pleading for the sweet release so he may return at full strength. Yet his heart continues to beat, his blood flow, his every fiber resists the cold embrace. Jorge struggles to stay upright as every step requires his full strength and coordination; yet he staggers through the battle that rages around him and soon falls onto all fours and crawls into a crater. He hesitates for a second as the smell of human waste strikes him with great force but this lasts for only a second. With great effort and pain Jorge rolls onto his back and slides down the filthy slide of rubble and waste materials and falls waist deep into raw sewage. The revolting cocktail seeps into his wounds causing him to cringe in agony.

“I… I… Hav… to… remove…”

As he lays his hand on the metal shiv a cold sensation runs down his entire body and he begins to question his life choices. He starts to breathe heavily to work up his nerves but this only causes him greater suffering. He almost lets out an agonizing cry but the lack of air and the sword fragment in his throat prevented this. “So this is where you’ve resigned? Accepted your fate have you? Hahahahahaha! Pathetic…  You’re worthless! I would have never have gotten hit! You are mere shadow of what I was, what I am!” Jorge struggles to speak, his reply lost in the garbled mess of pain guttural sounds. “What was that? Cat got your tongue? Oh wait, it was that giant mantis!” The shadow continues to harass Jorge but his words fall on deaf ears. Jorge concentrates on the dull metallic mass before him; the world around him starts to blend into itself as the darkness slowly creeps in his direction. With one hand he claps onto the shiv and everything goes red. He fights through the pain and with the help of his other hand he starts to pull it free with little success. The darkness encroaches upon him with greater haste as the blade slowly exits his body. The world is shaking. The tremors increase in ferocity as the blade slides free from his body and ends as abruptly as it started. Jorge looses consciousness for a moment while his fragment fades into the darkness. “You won’t be around forever… And when you’re finally gone I’ll be there to take your place. I’ll be waiting…” No longer burdened by the now removed sword Jorge forces himself to stand and stumbles down the sewers and supports himself against the mossy cobble.

Dirp

Drip

Drip

Splish splash

Splish splash

Splorsh…

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