Interconnected: Spliced Souls

Hugo was like the others. The trained archer had lost his leg—a solace compared to his new-found allies. They had suffered far worse, but they all shared a deep hatred towards humankind.    

His scales tingled. A koena like him should’ve had more. The phantom pain from the prosthetic kept him awake at night long after he freed himself from that awful camp. But killing humans made it dull. And now he and the rest of Sakdu’s 10,000-strong army would have their fill.    

But not yet.    

They still needed to depart for Canary. But before that, they needed to kill this human who was about to enter the base. The plan was sound. They just needed to wait, but Hugo would have lied if he said it made total sense. Why amass this much force for one lowly human?   

Or was it a test to evaluate their readiness?  

Hugo looked around and knew what he saw should’ve been a logistical nightmare to organize, but the soldiers were unified under a single goal.    

Sharing a promise for the future—no matter how negative or violent—brought others together. Sakdu ruled his army with a stern fist. He had no use for dissenters or troublemakers and used force to keep them in line. But he also protected them. They had a home here. And Hugo and the others wouldn’t dare betray the only place they felt accepted.    

So, surrounded by many like-minded individuals, Hugo, commander of the archer division, was confident. How could he not expect this fight to end favorably? They held an overwhelming advantage against a reported force of just one foe.   

Hugo knew they’d be marching on Canary before sunrise to burn it to the ground. Arcton was totally paralyzed. He didn’t know the specifics—only rumors that it would be a ‘necropolis’ by mid-day. He had heard whispers of master manipulators of the dead who wielded unholy magic, but Hugo had believed them to be tall tales.   

Regardless, reinforcements for Arcton would take a few days—maybe longer. But that depended on whether the king could garner a bit of self-respect. The man was little more than a figurehead. He lacked control over anything.    

But Hugo didn’t mind if the assistance meant for Arcton diverted to Canary.  

He merely had to kill them with his new family. Their morale was high! They were armed with brand-new gear!    

And this wasn’t their first battle. Everyone was a veteran. They all participated in some war or conflict, so they had much more experience than the average bandit.  

Sakdu’s army was well-supplied and always stocked with everything they needed. The money was always flowing in. Anything they ever needed was…always right there.   

Even this grand, incredible base was hastily constructed in just a few short months!   

So, the koena had faith in his leader as he adjusted his aim. His unit was placed about 400 feet from the ramp’s bottom. The armored infantry division was in front. Their polished, pristine spears gleamed.  

It’s almost time… A few seconds…    

His tense muscles felt tight. His mind counted the seconds…   

And then she walked through…   

And Hugo wasn’t impressed… Not one bit. Black hair? Red eyes? The target was a dirty, stinking human, and humans bled like all the rest.   

And they died like all the rest.  

Hugo wouldn’t shed a single tear.   

“ACTIVATE THE TRAP!” someone shouted.    

The magic circle inscribed with wind and explosive magic shook the room with a violent rumbling, sending the girl flying high towards them the instant her foot touched it.    

She didn’t have legs—they had been blown off.    

“NOW, FIRE!” Hugo shouted. He and the other two hundred archers launched arrows through the nearby translucent field. It transformed one projectile into twenty, but they kept firing, emptying their quivers while a gravity mage near the front used [Gravity Well] to keep the target suspended.    

Hugo’s scout put a spyglass to his eye and reported what he wanted to hear. “I’ve confirmed extensive damage to her head, arms, and chest. It’s a pincushion, sir. She’s more arrow than skin. There is not a spot free from blood.”   

“And it’s time to end it.” The koena watched as the gravity spell transformed into [Gravity Smash], slamming Servi down with the force of ten full-grown elephants on her back. The ground quivered from the impact. He saw blood splatters and heard the cries of victory and success, which only grew louder when a mighty bolt of lightning struck her, exploding Servi to bits and pieces.    

“Was that necessary, sir?” asked Hugo’s scout. His remaining ear twitched from confusion. “So much preparation for one girl.”  

“It was. And you’re right. But what’s done is done. She’s dead, so get—" Hugo froze mid-sentence. Something wasn’t right. Where were the cries of victory? The cheering? The pomp and circumstance of killing yet another human? They were just here, but an uncomfortable murmur had taken their places. A dark, creepy sensation crawled up Hugo’s legs and poked his heart. The chill wasn’t natural.    

Hugo’s scout shuddered. He scampered up the catapult to his left like a monkey.  

“What is it?”   

“It’s…” The tone drained from the scout’s voice. “She’s…not dead? The human’s standing… And everyone around her… They’re clutching their hearts…”  

Sakdu’s reluctance to tell his men about the false narrative surrounding Servi's identity was not a critical blunder. In fact, informing them they were about to clash with an undead manipulator would’ve diminished their morale even further. 

 

---

Fools…  

That was what these people were as the hands of a goddess grasped their hearts and crushed them like the pathetic worms they were. She had told me she wouldn’t give any mercy.   

It was a statement—a declaration of power that said I didn’t have to lift a finger if I wanted to kill.   

But something was wrong. Itarr said it took double the usual blood crystals to cast [Heart Clutch]. And she often had to use it two or three times for it to work, but our blood crystal vault was stocked. And Itarr never stopped making them.   

Arrows and spells slammed into my body. Beams of magic and flaming wisps of phantom fire enflamed me, but I kept walking, and the bodies kept dropping. Everyone had a death gurgle.   

Everyone.   

And I had heard over 70.  

And it wouldn’t stop.   

It would never stop.   

Not until every enemy had perished, Sakdu was ripped to shreds, Sissy and the others were eviscerated, and Momo was safe.  

“What’s wrong?! I thought you were going to kill me?! Don’t think about playing dead! [Heart Clutch]!” I saw someone trying to play possum. The damn idiot thought he could hide under a corpse, but I mercilessly shattered his shitty heart before summoning my scythe.   

Seven arrows blinded me. The ground violently trembled, but I moved forward and avoided certain death as I ripped them out, only to see a barrage of spells encase me in lightning. I looked up and saw the shining moon through a hole, but the faint figures of four winged-wildkin disgraced it. They suddenly dropped something, but I absorbed the lightning cage and rolled forward, swinging my scythe while narrowly avoiding explosive barrels. The two closest people lost their heads. I immediately ducked and dashed left, slipping under a kobold’s massive tail while he was paralyzed by a hand gripping his heart.   

“[Skull Bomb]!” A skull-like grenade appeared in my hand and caught fire—something that wasn’t supposed to happen. I tossed it and heard a dozen cries when it exploded three seconds earlier than it was supposed to. The kobold behind me roared and vomited a gallon’s worth of blood.   

There must be some effect weakening our abilities! But it doesn’t matter! This won’t stop us, Servi!  

I felt like I was in a trance…  

The chaos…  

The violence…  

I felt…more at home…than ever before…  

But…  

I still felt numb…   

My body was cold… It felt empty and devoid…  

Just…what the hell was I? 

Why was I like this?  

No. I had to shrug the feeling off. Fighting was what mattered. I had to keep going... Momo depended on me... I had to find her... I had to save her.   

An icy spike erupted beneath me, encapsulating me in a snowman’s wet dream. The piercing cold flash froze my blood.  

“THIS BITCH ISN’T IMMORTAL! KILL HER! STRIKE HER DEAD! KILL THE HUMAN! SHE—" 

Not on my watch! Keep going, Servi!  

Seven death rattles blessed my ears, and I forced myself through the frigid prison, leaving behind shattered flesh until my body rejuvenated itself. Itarr seamlessly redressed me, and I continued, accelerating even faster. I felt myself growing stronger with each soul. It was slight, but I was faster... I was stronger...  

Every physical aspect of my body increased... I swung harder...   

I could now jump from group to group, leaving behind a unit of fallen foes before dashing to the next one that tried and failed to cut me down from range. My scythe was a relentless dance of death in my hands, ending all who wanted to stop me. 

But I couldn’t waste time!  

“Itarr, I’m trusting you to clear a path for me!”  

Leave it to me! Keep running! I’ll kill them all!   

Fourteen died in a flash, and I ran. “[Skeletal Wall]!” A writhing, sickening palisade of groaning skeletons burst from under my feet—like my skull bombs, it also caught fire when it was created. But it lasted long enough for me to kick off, sending myself flying like a rocket. Archers below took aim and launched their arrows, but I swatted them away as the bodies continued to drop. Itarr crafted a dozen more skull bombs that rained down like gravity-aided missiles.   

It was ironic... The shortened fuse helped. And the flames that engulfed the bombs? It affected the fragments inside, turning it into a makeshift incendiary grenade.   

Take this! I enchanted the bazooka with [Acid Arrow]!  

The rocket launcher appeared. Shouldering it, I turned around and pulled the trigger, sending a congealed glob of gangly, gross acid rocketing towards a crowd frozen by fearful paralysis. It exploded and scattered the corrosive danger ten feet, burning skin and melding armor to flesh amid a chorus of unified, agonizing screams.    

The refresh time is ten seconds! We can’t afford to lose it, so I’ll absorb and return it when it’s ready!  

The launcher vanished. I crashed into a woman with a lizard face and rolled off, but she latched her hooked sword around my ankle. That confidence faded when her heart exploded—blood gushed from her ears and nose and rained from her eyes like crimson tears-- and I limped for a moment before it healed.   

But then I slammed into an invisible barrier, making me dodge to the left, but I was grabbed by a towering ogre of at least eight or nine feet. His giant fist squeezed my head and slammed into the ground hard enough to bounce, shattering all my ribs before kicking me away.   

Itarr crafted a wall of skeletons to stop me. I recovered and listened to her orders. Between making crystals and casting, her attention was stretched thin, yet she absorbed whatever she could.  

To the left! There’s an arrow from behind! Duck! You have two spells coming in from the right!  

---

Hugo couldn’t believe the reports. He didn’t know how the target had survived that opening barrage, but now he was getting reports of…[Necromancy]? Did those dark, unholy abilities really exist? And did she really wield them?  

“She’s a monster, sir! Nothing we do works! She keeps regenerating from the damage!” cried the scout.   

People were running away, stomping over allies and kin alike to scatter from that seemingly immortal monster.  Brave souls who desired the glory of killing a human like her kept challenging Servi, but they all faced the same fate.   

Hugo’s other concern was the girl’s odd device she used. The cylinder design was unimpressive and plain. But it launched a poison-like spell with tremendous force and power that chewed through their armor like a hot knife through butter.    

The saving grace was the limited use. It appeared to be once every ten seconds? Hugo had to time it right. But every minute he spent preparing meant that dangerous weapon blasted six times and slaughtered more of his precious allies.    

But he was ready to kill it. He knew that nothing in this world was immortal. Everything could bleed, and everything could die. Hugo looked skyward and saw a transparent haze of flames hovering above.  

It was multi-enchanted with a few different effects. Nothing could survive what Hugo had planned. Even a mighty dragon would fall victim… And this… monster cladded in human skin couldn’t have been more powerful than a dragon.  

Right?  

Just the thought was preposterous.    

Wait…   

A little longer…   

There!    

He looked through his spyglass and saw Servi airborne. The weapon vanished—as it had done many times before.    

This was Hugo’s chance to end it.   

“FIRE!!!!”    

His archer division fired high. The arrows multiplied by the hundreds, caught on fire, and were directed to Servi with precise control by their greatest gravity mage. Every…last…arrow…   

…found a home in its body, blowing the woman back thirty feet from the sheer force alone. The flames spread and engulfed their body, but…   

It stood…   

Even while it was encased in enchanted flames…  

It stood.   

Even while the arrow tips embedded within her body acted as lightning rods for the sudden lightning storm…  

That monster continued to approach…leaving behind molten flesh footprints and large chunks of flesh from where the lightning strikes had cleaved her body apart… The dead skin fell and caught aflame on the ground as new skin, blood, bones, muscles, and organs produced its human form. The arrows vanished, and the flames disappeared. The thunderous spell canceled itself without lightning rods.    

The monster never stopped moving.   

Not for a moment.  

Servi was forever advancing.   

He watched as an ally forced a sword into the hands of a dirty human slave and pushed her in front of the walking monster, but she didn’t die. Servi ran past her like she wasn’t there and instead dismembered the one who shoved the slave before continuing a violent, murderous ascent.    

The slave was left perplexed since she thought death was about to take her, but...   

It didn’t. The slave was spared—no, she was saved. The slave looked around for others like her and rushed to them with the good news! They were being saved! Someone had come to rescue them!    

Hugo ran. He ran, and he ran, and he ran, abandoning his men to the rapidly approaching demon, sacrificing them to stave off certain death for that much longer. That sight frightened him. He scampered like a kid with soiled pants and angrily brushed past the army.    

But…   

He wasn’t the only one.    

Nothing they did came close to slowing down that damn monster. The cries soon began, and the explosions became far more numerous—coming twice as often as a second weapon fired a projectile tightly furled by throbbing, darkened shadows. His allies surrendered by the dozen, but the monster gave no mercy.  

Was there a way to win?   

Hugo needed to send a report to his leader. He found the closest spirit summoner hiding under a wagon and forced her to send a message—threatening the Mousekin with certain death from his jagged dagger if she refused.    

 

---

They were crying.  

The ones who had seen what I could endure had dropped to their knees and prayed. They apologized… Their spirits were shattered and broken by death’s reluctance to claim me.   

But this goddess spared no sympathy. I ran past and carved them with my scythe when my acid and shadow launchers were on cooldown. It was faint, but it was growing sharper. I was sure a golem wouldn’t have stood a chance even without acid to weaken its durable shell.    

However, the tide of battle was changing. Some idiot tried to make a slave fight me, but Itarr and I ignored her. I hoped she would run away. Or gather the others and stage a resistance. Those collars were a mystery. I knew they marked her as a slave. Itarr absorbed it when we ran past her, and she said it held a sharp blade tightly wound around a tense spring. Was it remote activated?  

Did Momo have one around her neck?  

...  

I couldn’t think of hypotheticals. I had to keep going, and as I progressed, more slaves were forced to confront me, but they were spared. They weren’t my targets. They wouldn't be unless they told me they were doing it of their own will. Itarr absorbed all the collars she could, but we didn’t go out of our way to get within range.   

I heard the noise of battle behind me after the fourth slave group. Itarr said they looked at each other and turned their weapons on their oppressors. They were running on pure adrenaline. I didn’t know how they moved with those atrophied muscles or gripped swords in those thin hands. They looked like they hadn’t eaten in weeks. Skin and bones... Sunken cheeks and deep, dark valleys around their eyes... Feeble as a starving child with a 1,000-yard stare...  

But I wasn’t here for them. As much as I wanted to save them... To ensure they were fine...  

Momo came first...  

I did all I could. The rest was up to them. And it benefited me. The disorder they caused would only assist and make things even more chaotic than they already were.   

I used another wall of flaming skeletons to propel across the air, landed with a roll, dropped a few bombs, and repeated the process.   

These weaklings wouldn’t slow me down! And they perhaps knew it. I knew the word was spreading. More and more were playing dead since I wouldn't stop. Nothing would stop me. 

But….not all thought that way.   

WATCH OUT! BEHIND YOU!!!  

I turned around and saw a mad sight. Flaming balls of iron launched from catapults and trebuchets from where I had come, barreling through the air. I had ignored them because destroying or absorbing them would’ve taken too long.   

 I took aim with the acid launcher and shot down one before switching to the one enchanted with [Shadow Shot]. The explosive spell slammed into the second, blasting apart the third and fourth beside it, but they were filled with molten fragments. They rained like cluster bombs upon myself and Sakdu’s army, catching us alight in magma-like metal that devoured my clothes and skin, scorching my flesh until I was blackened like ash as it fought against my immortality’s desire to nurse me to health.   

But it wasn’t over.   

There was one projectile left. It stayed whole and slammed into me, turning me into a crimson mist and collection of mismatched, burnt body parts that flew every which way.   

But my head was whole…  

And I regenerated faster than before, having another body before I rolled, recovering into a full-on sprint.   

Someone screamed, but it was difficult to hear them over the cries of people burning to death behind me.    

Eh? Below you! Something’s coming!  

“Again?!"  

Itarr used [Skeletal Wall], and I leapt, soaring high as the ground fissured. A deep, wide ravine was born. Dozens of unprepared soldiers fell, crying in anguish. And out came ten thick, rocky tentacles with sharpened points that pierced my limbs and torso-- An eleventh coiled around tightly around my head, and they dragged me down into the darkened hell. The narrow, claustrophobic tunnels were filled with barbed vines.  

My flesh scattered. It was like I was being pulled through a blender as the tentacles began rotating.   

I can’t absorb them! The shape is changing too much! Please hold on!