The Mook Maker

It was like the entire city had been set on fire. 

 

Metaphorically speaking, at the very least. The ‘Purifiers’ being almost as good in putting down the flame as they were in starting it merely meant that precious few buildings had been destroyed in the mayhem that ensued the moment the first members of the host started arriving. 

 

A very little property damage didn’t mean much in the current situation, even as the roar of the riot slowly subsided, the city itself was technically in a state of anarchy, one which would persist for days to come, if not longer, unless someone took command over the unruly citizens anytime soon. 

 

Perhaps unleashing my ‘Fleshspeakers’ upon it was a mistake.

The physical destruction may be minimal, however, the damage upon its citizens had been already done, even with possibly hundreds of people displaced as they fled the fighting, while others perished, or were captured by us. 

 

Whatever command structure there once was had been effectively wiped out. Their members were either dead, killed during this coup, or were lying down paralyzed somewhere in the city streets and I was not capable of distinguishing them from the numerous ordinary citizens caught in the crossfire that had suffered the same fate. The origin of the coup was yet another mystery to me.

 

If there were still more people responsible for running the city, a town councillor, lesser nobles, guilds, or any structures the mediaeval-equivalent city could theoretically have, I had no real idea how to find them among the thousands of prisoners and unconscious individuals, assuming they even existed, and then somehow convince them to cooperate in running this place. 

 

I simply had assumed that I would merely have to deal with the higher authority in this province, provide him with a certain level of assistance against both internal and external threats, and then allow them to deal with the whole populace in the way they were used to. 

 

That was no longer possible. 

 

The Viceroy was unresponsive, unable to provide me with any advice, guidance, or even the basic information on how the city organisation worked during the peacetime, or what mechanism has been in place for handling the crisis like this, if they even conceived it may happen. The local ruler had disappointed me with his failure to calm down a crowd - his only job was knowing how to approach his own people and subjects - but it was too late to shift blame. 

 

This intervention has been a disaster.    

 

Though alive, the man was in terrible shape. It even made me wonder whether he had just had a stroke, something which I wasn’t quite certain I could deal with. For all our magical abilities, I wasn’t quite certain if it was the job for ‘Fleshspeakers’ or ‘Defilers’ as I had no intent to turn the Viceroy into a mindless puppet. 

 

If he was going to recover from whatever affliction he was suffering, one I wasn’t completely certain if it wasn’t inflicted by us, I would need his expertise in the future. This entire disaster was caused by my attempt to establish an official relationship with local authorities, then intervening on their behalf, which in turn spiralled out of control very fast. 

 

Lacking any real alternative, I would have to improvise until either the Viceroy recovers and retakes his duties, or until he dies and we would be once again forced to look for a different middle man to facilitate our diplomatic relationships with the natives. 

 

I had a ‘Devourer’ to absorb the life energy of the trees from the neighbouring garden, in order to fix the damage the Viceroy might have suffered, and had him carried away. I was not entirely certain it helped. 

 

He was going to be confined to his room, for now, with his men watching over him.

 

I wasn’t quite certain how I would find a human handmaiden or nurse to watch him over, but at least the skeleton crew of guards loyal to the Viceroy would help. If nothing else, they could drag him away, or scream for a medic… a healer, in local terms, I suppose. 

 

Watching them leave, carrying the slumped body of their former leader, I started to consider the impact the whole situation had on me personally, beyond the future complications I would have to address.

 

I was not feeling well.

 

The feedback loop between me and the entirety of the furry menagerie wasn’t exactly easy to handle, as thousands of my girls were right now actively chatting with each other through their shared telepathic link, allowing me to focus on their individual conversations should I want to. 

 

It wasn’t exactly painful, just as equally distracting as it was tiring, and the future exhaustion would prove to be a veritable headache even if I wasn’t able to sense all the turmoil within my head as the host did their own thing.

 

Being on the telepathic nexus - or being the nexus, I was uncertain how it worked - was hard. We were legion, for we were many. 

 

I would have to get used to this feeling of crowded rooms, or rather an entire football stadium filled with people, with countless conversations held at once, permanently lodged somewhere at the edge of my consciousness. 

 

But if ‘Alphas’ could deal with it, I should too. 

The countless voices within my brain didn’t seek to overwhelm me, but to help, yet they didn't quite understand I was not used to handling this level of attention at the same time. They would have to wait for a while until I could engage with them the same way their mind casually interacted with each other in every moment of their existence. 

 

They were born into the host. It was their nature. Was it mine?  

 

Eventually, I would learn how to manage the ever-restless sea of whispers - they were part of me as much as I was part of them - but for the time being, I would have to limit myself to maybe one telepathic link at the time, to tune down the ever present hum lingering in the background. 

 

A mental white noise of sorts, which I would turn down and turn up on demand.  Adjust as needed.

 

However, as a temporary solution, verbal communication was going to be a primary method to communicate with my host until a better solution was found, or until I became accustomed to it. 

 

The Humming buzz of the susurrus continued. I bobbed my head slightly, a tic to shake down the thrum, but to no avail.

 

There was a certain assurance in it, among the minds ever signing in their own chorus. I was never alone, and always close to the ones that cared about me. 

 

This perception of the crowded room - even if it was a friendly one - forced me to lean towards Arke as she explained her findings to me. Luckily for me, having her resting her winged arms on my shoulder, and talking to my ear, was a perfectly normal way to hold the conversation by the host standard. 

 

Even Tama and Miwah would do it, and there weren’t any humans around to judge us.

 

It was certainly soothing. She was warm, strong, and her fur gave off a soft, almost untreatable scent I could not quite place, yet was pleasant, invigorating and brilliant, with a perception of her mind-magic being a synesthesia on its own. 

 

Arke leaned even closer, forward, nudging me with her cute muzzle. The ‘Fleshspeakers’ - and more so their ‘Overseer’ variant - had a certain foxy appearance to them, almost as the ‘Purifiers’ did, despite being the huge, anthropomorphic bats. Her wingspan now must be between seven to eight metres. She was big. 

 

It didn’t feel threatening - she was my bat girl, after all.

 

Humans were effectively scared away by the ‘Fleshspeaker’ creations. They did turn the roaches into the attack hounds equivalents, and as far I could tell, they had them sniff the immediate surrounding of the palace, almost as they tried to find the hidden tracks within its walls. 

 

‘Ravagers’ in the meantime closed off the courtyard, and even though we didn’t quite have the privacy with others lurking about, it wasn’t as upsetting as it should be. Being able to sense the other minds was, only a little, but the crowd itself was not a real issue anymore. 

 

I was always meant to be surrounded by large groups - as long as they were my people, not humans. 

 

Strange. 

 

I forced myself to think about the issue at hand instead, listened to Arke’s narration, the results of her interrogation of captured minds, and … 

 

I had no clue where to start untangling this mess we got themselves into. 

 

The so-called ‘Secret Royal Inspector’ may sound suspicious, out-of-place even, but I had to remind myself that our understanding of the local language was spotty at best, and despite the information being taken literally from a human’s brain, it was something up to our interpretation. We and humans were different species, after all, with an unorthodox method of communication, and even with the mind-magic available, not everything came through as intended.  

 

The rift between me and humans was growing by each day. 

 

I brushed it off. 

 

It ultimately did not matter - I was not going to turn the entire population into puppets to find a one hidden agent, especially if I didn’t know whether there were indeed more of them active.

 

I needed to find out how would a secret organisation, assuming it was even a secret, worked in the society without any reliable method of the long-distance communication, but in the world where the elite warriors could defy the limitation of human body and dragon gods blessed women with the mystic powers, nothing could be reliably ruled out. 

 

“Take everything from the bodies of those men.” I ordered, “We need to find anything they use as a proof of their authority. I don’t know if they bear badges or sealed envelopes with orders or something…” 

 

“Yes, Master,” she replied, and my mind raced to tackle the out of context problem. Ironically, it might be easiest to simply ask someone in the know, and it wouldn’t have to be the once again unconscious viceroy. We had his advisor. 

 

“Send someone to find the …” I paused, “...the advisor man, the sage, and asked him whether he knew how to recognize the Secret Royal Inspector or that they were in the city?” 

 

“Yes, Master.”

 

“Also, have the bodies examined. Perhaps they have something tattooed on their skin.” I guessed. “Check for this as well.”

 

I didn’t have any idea whether tattoos even exist in this world, but they would be easily within the capabilities of the natives on their technological levels without the aid of magic that demonstrably also existed. They would work, especially in conjunction with other methods of identity verification, and it wasn’t something I would think about if I wasn’t confronted with the relatively modern term as “secret inspector” among all this madness.

 

“Yes. Master.”  Arke said, and it caught her attention, her mind inspired by the mention. The tattoos were body modifications, and nothing personified the one’s ability to modify the other’s body more than the magic of the ‘Fleshspeaker’. 

 

I didn’t need them to create the property tags on the humans. It would be dangerous, on top of what they already did with the flesh drones. 

 

“But first…” 

 

I stopped her before her mind wandered off. A sympathetic link was weird, allowing me to catch on the stray thoughts as that was almost as shocking as the background murmur of the few thousands minds networked together. 

 

Somehow, I knew they were talking about ideas already. They picked up the new concept with alarming ease. 

 

“Distribute your girls across the city.” I said, “You could easily perch on rooftops to oversee the entire area.” 

 

Then I continued: 

 

 “Then coordinate the humans to be brought out of the streets under some shelters. Put them in beds, take the beddings from the houses if you have to, and bring them to some places you could see. Have the Eviscerators and Purifiers help you in this if you need to carry the unconscious. We could have improvised field hospitals and you could organise the districts based on the numbers of the Overseers, with a matching number of Defilers to do any healing required.”

 

I spoke my sentence, while caressing Arke’s fur on her neck. While it wasn’t necessarily the most intimate moment - we dealt with serious matters - I came to enjoy her closeness as well. 

 

“We can do it, Master.” Miwah answered, didn’t seem to be bothered by me being too close with Arke. 

 

“Yes-yes, Master.” Narita added, in her usual way. 

 

“You could bring them outside the city if you need the plants to channel the energy from…” I realised. This part seemed intuitive. We need to somehow treat the wounded and calm the humans as they wake up, one by one, instead of the attempt to disperse and stun the entire crowd rampaging through the city proper. 

 

This should prevent the further loss of life on their side. However, the need to prevent it also reminded me that our attempt to put down this entire uprising, riot, or whatever it was, wasn’t entirely bloodless. They were deaths - the system thrilled on these, so there was no denial. 

 

“I want the corpses to be brought outside the city. Sterilise them with Defiler magic if you need to. They will be burned later.” I decided, “Do you mind this being organised completely by Arke?” 

 

“No, we don’t mind, Master.” Tama spoke for this time, her tone sulky as always, “I could entertain you while they deal with the problems, Master.”  

 

The ‘Fleshspeakers’ after receiving the arcane fruit, and ‘evolving’ were literally called ‘Overseers’, so delegating the similar situation to them was an intended, and intuitive way to employ their respective breed, to govern some estate, community, or population. 

 

Maybe they would indeed prove to the capable organisers now their abilities have been extended. The ‘Displacers’ came from controlling a small rift in spacetime to massive portals capable of transporting entire crowds. It stood to reason to assume that my bats were similarly strengthened. Perhaps their multitasking had improved, or their telepathic powers had been extended. 

 

Or they could zombify even more of the living, turning anything they encountered to nothing more than living dolls reshaped and then twisted to the ‘Fleshspeakers’ whims and wishes.

 

They could, however, speak with humans through their fleshy puppets, and even though it might be slightly distressing, it was for the best. I had to break the never-ending cycle of violence while I still could, and although our current method of communication wasn’t the most approachable, it was the best I had..  

 

I would not get there without my chiropterans, I thought, nudging Arke appreciatively. 

 

Desperate times called for equally desperate measures. 

 

My bat flock was doing their best. 

 

“Tell all humans which are currently conscious, and somewhat responsive, to return to their homes, and stay there. They won’t be harmed. We could distribute the food and water to them if needed. Can you arrange that?.” 

 

I could feel Arke’s enthusiasm for the job even before she replied. 

 

Not for burning, that was the ‘Purifier’ thing, but for commanding the humans. She looked up, her mind touching the host, calling upon her kin, which replied in the similar fashion, reminding me that the link between me and the entirety of the host has not disappointed with some minor distractions.  

 

“Yes, Master. Your orders will be obeyed.” The bat girl announced, however, I realised that her magic and her conviction combined might not be enough to prevent the same disaster as was our intervention in the city. The human distaste towards us was beyond the linguistic barrier, or meddling in their matters, and it may be better if we had a human who could talk with them. 

 

There weren’t too many suitable candidates for that task. Last one who tried suffered a stroke.

 

“We will need Ari to talk with them.” I concluded, “She could walk the city, talk to humans. She can even handle the ceremony for burning the dead. Did she have any results in talking to all those priests?” 

 

“Yes, Master. I believe she convinced a few…” Arke mused, “We were withdrawing ourselves from the villages in order to pacify this city. Lily has requested the translator for the entire battle. We couldn’t go.” 

 

I paused.

 

For the moment, I could sense the ‘Lady’ - our invisible, or at least immaterial - dragoness ally, and her attempt to communicate with the host, and was reminded of her demand of the ‘cult’. My temptation to start dispersing her former priests she so rudely pushed under our management was quelled immediately.

 

I was glad she was silent. 

 

“Lily is eager to present you with the solution to manage the humans without our direct oversight. She had delivered the special fruits to raise the morale of humans we could trade…” 

 

It brought my attention, briefly scattered to the larger host, back to the here and now. 

 

I was not interested in trade at the moment. 

 

It could have been an important component to my negotiation with the humans, however, with it being so sudden, and so violently disturbed, there was simply no way to establish the market for what we could produce in exchange for what we need. 

 

I would not tell Lily and Mai their work was for nothing.

 

Where was Mai anyway? 

 

“Did it work? The trade?” I asked, considering it slightly unbelievable, considering the ‘Corruptors’ were perhaps one of the most misanthropic parts of the horde, often openly disgusted with the even proximity for humans. 

 

“Lily bought herself a new dress.” Tama said, her golden eyes fixated on the horizon as she attempted to facilitate the communication. It seems to interest her, which was unsurprising. For Tama, at least, considering she had a tendency to appropriate for herself new outfits from humans all the time. 

 

It was, however, quite revolutionary for openly misanthropic lizard-girls that often dressed themselves as the Hawaiian dancers, complete with grass skirts, and wreaths of flowers.

 

“A dress?” I asked, then I dismissed the surprise mentally. Investigate later.

 

If Lily exchanged apples for cloth, it was more ethically sourced than what was usual for others - I vividly recalled the happy ‘Purifiers’ happily showing me what they get for breaking into villagers' houses and simply taking what they wanted.

 

I should be proud of my little scaled girls. They do understand commerce; it seemed

 

“Yes. Lily is free to attempt the trade with the natives if she wants to” I said, struggling to remember names of the ‘Fleshspeakers’ I had given, and they came up to me with almost surprising ease now: “Send Irene, Angela and Michelle back to their respective villages. Iris and Eris will oversee the priest's camp instead. At least one of them could act as translator as Lily needs.” 

 

“Yes, Master.” She confirmed. 

 

The echo of the sporadic ‘Fleshspeakers’ screeches sounding from the city reminded me I had more pressing matters to oversee. This accursed city would be a drain on our resources for a while. Even the search for the mystical ‘scrolls’ that would help me to rein in this madness had to be halted, as ‘Fleshspeakers’ were the only ones capable of flight.  

 

“Do you even have enough overseers? How many are there?” 

 

“Forty seven, Master.”

 

It was quite a lot. 

 

As it was, I had no idea how many arcane fruits I distributed in my desperate attempt to control the situation, and I found out it was quite a few. In truth, I had no idea how many fruits the ‘Mutators’ could produce in the limited amount of time between their spawning, and now. 

 

It seems to be it. 

 

We were about to see how good the ‘Overseers’ were at the eponymous job. 

 

“Divide the districts between them. I’ll name them later.” 

 

“Yes, Master.” 

 

More screeches came from the distance, and Arke perked up her ears, even though she likely knew exactly what her smaller kin were doing at the moment. 

 

“Thank you.” I said, “Please, go. Sort out the situation in this city.” 

 

I gave the bat girl a parting kiss, then she released her embrace over me as she hopped away, then launched herself to the air with the mighty flaps of her arm-wings. 

 

The ‘evolved’ versions of the ‘Fleshspeakers’ were quite majestic when I thought of it. Were they getting bigger after the infusion of the arcane energy, or were their features more pronounced with their now slightly darker fur and blacker, opaque membranes of their wings? 

 

Their facial features did get more fox-like.

 

I shook my head. It didn’t matter. I loved all my girls, no matter what they looked like. 

 

Arke took up to the sky, flowed a circle above the courtyard, and headed away. 

 

“Did the evolution make Arke more desirable to you, Master?” Tama teased, her voice more sultry, as she pressed herself closer now to the competition in the form of Arke had left. 

 

“Should I feel … jealous, Master?” She asked, 

 

“Are you?”

 

“Not at the moment, Master,” she mused, looking away to the sky, “But perhaps I should beg you for the fruit of arcane to be more … desirable.” 

 

The vixen was quite desirable. With her silver fur and multiple tails, she had all the mystic charm she could have wanted, not to mention quite a figure. Her fluffy tails coiled around me as she pressed to my arm. 

 

She was powerful too, even on her own, but I didn’t want to make any of my girls feel inadequate.

 

It wouldn’t be much of a drain to simply try to give the fruit of arcane to all of my mates, even to Ekaterina that received the same though her absorption of magical artefacts, it was a matter of five fruits.  

 

Miniscule amounts. 

 

I should do it. It, however, did bring my attention to other things. 

 

Tama didn’t press further beyond a massage of my arm, and Narita decided to occupy my other arm, while Miwah looked around the courtyard as the ‘Ravagers’ opened the gate. 

 

Despite my hasty decision to feed all the available arcane glow-fruits to the ‘Fleshspeakers’ in order to make them more adept at subduing the humans that caused us the problems, I wasn’t any close to understanding what the nebulous ‘resource’ that made them was. 

 

I looked away, to the cloudless heavens.

 

Maths wasn’t my strong suit. 

 

However, it wasn’t that difficult to calculate that the nebulous ‘resource’ used to produce those mysterious, spell-infused arcane fruit, would completely run out in the matter of eight days, assuming I didn’t hasten their production during another poorly thought through event, and it would still leave the vast majority of our host in their original, basic forms, without any option to get more. 

 

There were only a mere four ‘Mutators’ making those. 

 

I looked at Narita. She returned an expectant look with her ruby eyes expectedly, as something quite unrelated to my charming, horned rat-girl had occurred to me. 

 

Four? 

 

Were there four ‘mutators’? 

 

The ‘Overview’ screen certainly said, four. I recalled as much. 

 

Shouldn’t I have more than four ‘Mutators’ - did the system miscalculate again?

 

I should have eight of them, not four, their respective ‘Alpha’ not-withstanding. 

 

Was a limited number of resources - not enough to ‘evolve’ even one tenth of our numbers - a result of the rounding error the system was so inclined to do at the most random of times? 

 

I looked around. 

Where are my moth-girls, anyway? 

 

As little interest I paid to the system and its sometimes lying overview screen, I was absolutely terrified of the fact that it would take away my girls from me. Although it was somewhat ironic that the only thing worse than having a choir of whispers at the back of my brain was them going away, I couldn’t help myself to worry. 

 

“Where is Kirke?”

 

“In the garden, Master.” 

 

I immediately rushed there. 

 

It wasn’t hard to find. The palace layout has been heavily compartmentalised, and the gardens were, in fact, located right next to the courtyard just behind the yet another wall, behind their own heavily decorated entrance. 

 

I still found it only thanks to the ‘Mutator’ buzzing above.

 

They could take over the scouting duties, I realised. The ‘Fleshspeakers’ weren’t the only members of my host capable of flight - another reason I should pay attention to my moths immediately. 

 

I overlooked them for far too long. 

 

Kirke stood in the middle of the garden, waving her four hands in the complex patterns as the conductor directing the concert, while the grass and flowers around her danced to her will in the glow of yellow and green, creating a new tree of arcane. 

 

While the single ‘Mutator’ oversaw the change from the air, Kirke’s two little sisters lay slumbering on the nearby bench, very clearly exhausted from the endeavour, while the new tree didn’t even bear its signatory fruit. 

 

There were indeed four of them, and we weren’t any closer to producing the precious resource we needed. 

 

They were still there, to my relief. 

 

I gestured to the flying moth-girl near. 

 

“My Master. My Light.” Kirke chirped, as her smaller kin landed nearby, and she interrupted her work to give me her full attention. I, however, focused on the ordinary, small ‘Mutator’ next to me. Unlike the ‘Alpha’, the little rank and file of her breed were the size of the human child. 

 

While the smaller variants in all the breeds didn’t have a childlike appearance, the ‘Ravagers’ always looked mature, and even the ‘Eviscerators’ weren’t exactly diminutive, the ‘Mutators’ were certainly looking very young.

 

“Kirke, how many sisters do you have?”

 

“Eight. Master.” 

 

“But the overview…” I protested, but stopped. “Where are the other four?” 

 

“Tending the grove.” She said, “We would have another arcane-fruit for you to use.” 

 

A relief. Though, it did raise the days old question of how this system worked, especially with this level of unreliability in its own calculation. Sadly, I would have to bear with it until I found the other magical scrolls. They were linked to this entire mess. 

 

But, first thing first. 

 

“Any idea if you could cultivate more resources if you have more sisters?” 

 

“Not sure, Master…” Kirke replied, her eyes fixated to the horizon, as her wings fluttered almost subconsciously. She seemed distracted, almost as it was yet another voice talking to her and she struggled to answer them both. I couldn't fault her for feeling tired, though. 

 

I would ask Narita later - there was always an option to drain a few plants of the life energy. 

 

Now, I had a theory, and there was the only way to test this out.

 

I was in no mood for the ‘Overview’ - especially after the scare with not–really disappearing ‘Mutators’ - but should I double, or triple, their numbers through abuse of the naming process, I should be able to verify whether the almost arbitrary, and likely heavily skewed, numbers was in practice an equivalent to farming capacity. 

 

“We have another one for you ready right now, Master.” 

 

I, instead, looked at the little one. 

 

“You. Little one. I should name you…” 

 

In truth, I didn’t think of anything, but I was in dire need of more of the ‘Mutators’ to test my theory that the resources were proportional to their number, not to mention that we would need their ability to fly for scouting. They either farm for more resources, or find me the scrolls, it was a win-win situation with them. 

 

Let’s go with the light theme, I thought. 

 

“For Master!” The mini-version of Kirke buzzed in excitement. Her insectoid wings were able to make the sound as they hopped up and down as I spoke. 

 

“Lucy, I shall name you Lucy.”

 

Lame name, I thought the moments after.

The Unit Named! Lucy, Named Mutator. Skill “Viridian Dominions Unbound lvl.3” Gained.

For all my doubts, the reaction from the system was immediate. The familiar ruby fog came through and soon more anthropomorphic moths formed from it, greeting me with their excited, childish-like voices, with the chant. 

 

“For Master!” 

   

Eight more, that’s double the number. They seem somewhat agitated. 

 

I was eager to name more, for the sake of experimentation, but first, I would consult the status screen.

 

“Root!” 

 

The voice of the dragoness boomed, appearing out of nowhere, and a brief manifestation of her neb into the physical world has materialised briefly in front of my face, only to disappear an eye-blink later. It made me step backwards, startled at first, and annoyed after, by her mannerism. 

 

The ‘Lady’ was back.

 

I had thought she forgot about us. Apparently, she had not. 

 

“Root! You could bless crops! I saw your spawn do it!” 

 

“What?” 

 

“I need your help now!” 

 

Then I got lost in the vision of the fertile fields in the distant lands. 

 

I would have to set the boundaries between us in the future.