Ogre Tyrant: Chapter 81 – Name your enemy – Part One

Ogre Tyrant: Chapter 81 – Name your enemy – Part OneOgre Tyrant: Chapter 81 - Name your enemy - Part One

Minutes turned to hours and there was still no end to the Beast Tide in sight. Kang and the Ogres had been pushed back toward the wall but were refusing to give up any further ground. The Ogres had been resupplied with new weapons and were desperately trying to break out from their encirclement but had met with little success.

I could feel their disappointment and fear in the back of my mind. Their fear that they had let me down. that they would be left behind, that they were not enough...

Which was ludicrous. The field was piled high with so many bodies that the Ogres had to have killed more than a couple of hundred Beasts each and with more to spare besides. The fact that they had not been overrun and only driven back under such an unrelenting assault was a testament to their strength, durability, and unwavering morale.

So long as I faced the tide head-on, the Beasts’ momentum and numbers prevented them from turning back and making any form of meaningful attacks against my back. However, I was also isolated and couldn’t retreat. The blood-soaked earth made it dangerous to linger in any single place for too long or retread previous ground. I had to continue slowly pushing forward to new ground if I wanted to avoid slipping and falling beneath the tide of bodies.

While my armour had protected me from the worst, my body ached. Thrice I had risked conjuring water from my Storage Ring to douse my skin and rehydrate. However, less than optimal concentration had wasted the majority of the water, spilling it over my armour instead of beneath.

Despite the pain, I had barely lost a quarter of my HP and was well on my way to recovering half of my MP. I had Healing and Mana Potions inside of my Storage Ring, but they functioned according to relative mass and were not to be wasted without good cause. While a Human would only need a couple of standard-sized Mana Potions to recover most of their MP, I would need to drink closer to fifty. What constituted a single draught for someone my size would wipe out a quarter of the Alchemist Faction’s daily production quota.

Backhanding a three-eyed bull with my machete and intercepting a red-furred lion mid-leap with my fist, I caught a glimpse of Kwan from the corner of my eye.

The gluttonous little serpent was still opportunistically gorging himself while covering my back. His lack of direct engagement in the battle would have infuriated me if I had not made a profound discovery through our link. While I was still uncertain whether our proximity to one another was a factor, Kwan and I seemed capable of transmitting energy back and forth between ourselves.

Which was the current cause of Kwan’s ravenous hunger. He was functionally paying the bill for the constant healing being performed by my Iron Gut Ability. Without the steady stream of incoming energy, I would have been in a far more desperate situation a long time ago.

Unfortunately, Kwan himself did not appear to have figured things out on his end. Complaining through our link about his desperate hunger.

Making matters worse for him, Kwan also appeared to have grown larger since the beginning of the battle. His feeding frenzy was not only fueling my ongoing recovery but accelerating his growth as well. Just as the Iron Gut Ability had done for other monsters in the past.

I nearly lost my footing as a ram with ridiculously large horns crashed into my right knee.

Suicide charges from such Beasts were becoming more frequent and I was growing concerned that there was someone or something intelligent directing the actions of the horde.

Deciding to take a small gamble, I gathered most of my MP and Summoned another ally intending to scatter the Beast Tide or force the hidden hand out into the open.

The field was suddenly cast under a deep dark shadow.

<Protect!> Kwan Demanded in a panic. <Protect Kwan!>

Powerful gusts of wind swept over the oncoming Beasts, whipping up clouds of loose dirt and debris.

There was a sharp intake of breath and then a belching roar.

A stream of caustic acid strafed the ranks of the horde, melting the flesh and bones of anything and everything it touched, leaving nothing but a smouldering sludge-filled crater in its wake. Beasts that couldn’t arrest their momentum tumbled into the sludge and died, howling and screaming as the flesh sloughed off their bones.

Before anyone could react, a second torrent of acid strafed the horde. Followed by a third and then a fourth.

Reservoirs temporarily depleted, Ushu arrested his flight and landed on the field, causing the ground to shake beneath his immense weight. Raising his long neck to the sky, Ushu released a bellowing roar that burst one of my eardrums.

Hundreds of feet long from snout to tail, and close to the same in wingspan, if not more, Ushu struck a terrifying figure as he reared up on his hind legs and clawed at the sky. Releasing another ear-shattering roar, Ushu leapt forward and began trampling Beasts underfoot.

Chaos erupted amidst the ranks of the horde as Beasts trampled one another in a desperate bid to escape.

Which was just as well. Ushu’s projection had depleted all but a fragment of the MP I had provided and would not last much longer than a minute at most.

A savage warcry rose from the entrenched position of the Ogres. As a single hulking mass, the Ogres began to charge.

Although slow at first, the Ogres continued to gather speed and began overtaking the slowest and wounded Beasts. Surrounded, the Beasts were bludgeoned from all sides, trampled underfoot, and left in bloody ruin.

Even after Ushu’s projection disappeared, the majority of the Beasts continued to flee. Those that did not were trampled or met their end at my hands or those of the approaching Ogres.

Kang had followed the Ogres back out onto the field but was maintaining a cautious distance from them. Not that I could blame him.

Battered and bruised, I considered chasing the Beasts myself but promptly dismissed the idea. I needed to secure somewhere safe to recuperate and allow my body time to recover. However, instead of quitting the field, I maintained my position.

Despite appearances, the Ogres were on their last legs. I could feel it.

Hours of continuous fighting had taken their toll. Despite taking no fatalities, several Ogres bore truly horrific injuries. It was the minds of these Ogres that shone the brightest in the periphery of my mind. They were still standing, still fighting, because of me. Because of the Command I had given them.

So long as they were acting in obedience to that Command, the Ogres would compel their bodies into action. Drawing on my will to outright ignore their pain and exhaustion.

As the scattered ranks of the Ogres drew closer, the extent of their injuries only became more obvious. Many were missing entire sections of their magical armour and had resorted to using improvised weapons. Almost all bore wounds that would have felled smaller men.

With the slowest Beasts dead, and the remainder beyond the ability of the Ogres to chase, it wasn’t difficult to decide to lead the Ogres off the field and back to the safety of the city walls.

Already exhausted, the number of Ogres drawing on my will to sustain themselves began multiplying exponentially. But the time I passed the breach I felt as if massive lead weights were bearing down on my shoulders.

Surgeons began performing triage the moment the first wounded Ogres passed through the ranks of my Bodyguards and champions. Marking and shoving Ogres toward the open-air surgery bays erected along the wall. Shouting to one another so they could make themselves heard above the laboured breathing and bewildered grunting of their charges.

Large tables bearing more meat, and huge open-topped barrels of beer, were laid out in the street. Any Ogres that passed the Surgeons' initial inspections were redirected toward the buffet by burly Hill and Mountain Orcs.

Ogres who moved too slowly or presented even the hint of resistance were challenged with the simple statement of ‘Tyrant’s orders’.

I had made no such order, but the desire for my approval appeared more than enough to motivate even the most cantankerous Ogres to comply.

Removing my outermost armour, I settled into a meditative pose and cycled my Chi while using my Water Affinity to cover my skin with water from my Storage Ring. While initially refreshing, the sensation became less profound as the water temperature began rising to match my body temperature.

A sharp snarl from Kwan broke my concentration and drew my conscious mind back into focus on my surroundings.

“Tyrant?” Kang, head bowed and his eyes firmly fixed on the ground, took a wary step forward. He flinched as Kwan hissed and bared his fangs in warning, but determinedly held to his course. Kang was unarmed, having left his staff propped up against the wall well out of easy reach. “Kang speak?” He asked respectfully and with no small measure of fear.

“Speak,” I agreed, motioning for him to continue. No doubt, he wanted to join his people, or at least check on them to guarantee their fair treatment.

Kang shifted nervously and made several sounds that I initially mistook for words but were just gibberish generated by his extreme nervousness. Similar to how the Gnolls would giggle when stressed, anxious or overly excited. “Tyrant promise Kang. Promise Kang people safe,” Kang stated with notable uncertainty.

“I did,” I confirmed. “Assuming they have not turned upon one another in your absence, they are in no danger and no harm will have come to them.”

Kang appeared relieved but was still nervous. “Kang have more...More people.” He seemed to struggle with finding the right words and only grew more nervous from the delay.

Reflecting upon events, I had to admit that I should have assumed as much from the beginning. “Where are they?” I asked, suppressing the urge to groan as I rose to my feet.

Kang furrowed his massive brow and remained silent for several long moments before pointing toward one of the nearby buildings. Or rather, he pointed in a direction that was obstructed by the buildings. “No far,” Kang replied anxiously.

“You’re worried the remnants of the Beast Tide will put them in danger?” I guessed, trying to make sense of his behaviour.

Kang stiffly nodded. “Kang afraid...Others weak...”

“Then why leave them unprotected?” I didn’t expect an answer, so I wasn’t disappointed when Kang failed to answer. Either he had thought they would be safe with the Beast Tide directing attention elsewhere, or he had left defenders behind but was not confident in their ability to hold against a concentrated attack.

Already weakened by the prolonged conflict outside of the walls, I was in no rush to run headlong into more danger. Even assuming Kang’s people would not be initially hostile, the surrounding area would be teaming with wild Beasts that had splintered from the broken Beast Tide.

“Lurr!” I called out in the direction of the breach and waited.

Lurr came running almost immediately. “My Tyrant?” He eyed Kang with unreserved suspicion and an imminent threat of violence.

“I need you to take my other champions and follow Kang to the home of his people. With the Beast Tide driven off, at least for the time being, he believes his people will be in danger,” I explained patiently. “If feasible, have the others evacuate them through a Spatial Breach Spell. If not...Send someone back through a Breach and we will work something else out...”

“Yes, my Tyrant! I will do as commanded!” Lurr obediently set off to gather my champions.

“If harm comes to them, I will hold you responsible,” I promised, fixing Kang with a deadly stare.

<Intimidation!> Kwan made another low dangerous hiss, leaning in close to Kang’s face with his fangs bared and dripping with venom.

Kang drooped his head lower in a show of submission. “Kang...Understand...”

“Good.” <Enough.> I mentally rebuked Kwan, drawing him back and away from Kang.

I issued my champions a Quest to reward them for their imminent undertaking and as a means to provide the Exp they otherwise might have earned if not fighting Beasts from the Cultivation system.

I still found it strange that the Cultivation Beasts provided no Exp whatsoever. There was no reason I could think of that would explain it.

While watching Kang’s departure, I was approached by Yi Gim and several armoured men who appeared to be of a similar age. Despite a certain degree of ethnic blindness on my part, it was obvious that the new arrivals were not closely related to Yi Gim or one another. A considerably larger group of armed men trailed behind them at a respectful distance. Despite their efforts to appear otherwise, they appeared quite intimidated by the Ogres gathering around the buffet.

“Maneaters...” One of the men muttered a little too loudly, drawing the attention and ire of his seniors. Although each man appeared to have different reasons as justification.

For his part, Yi Gim appeared profoundly offended on my behalf. Two of the men beside him seemed more concerned about how I would react. While the last looked downright terrified. Perhaps entertaining thoughts that I would prove the accusation true then and there, making an example of them.

“My sincerest apologies!” Yi Gim apologised and bowed low at the waist.

The men beside him and their gathered retinues were quick to emulate the gesture.

“I accept your apology,” I replied calmly while making a point of frowning disapprovingly at the man who had made the remark. He wasn’t to know, but the Ogres would probably eat him without a second thought if they were allowed the option. What I found interesting was the underlying cause of the remark. “Why would you call them that?” I demanded, singling the man out with a dark stare.

The men on either side of the accused discreetly distanced themselves.

“Apologies, Monarch! I intended no disrespect!” The man threw himself down onto his hands and knees in a panic.

Yi Gim looked on with concern but said nothing.

“Then answer my question,” I demanded bluntly.

He began trembling so badly that his banded armour began to jingle and rattle. “Of course! Just as the Monarch desires!” He choked out fearfully. “It is because our most honoured guests are-are...” He released a strangled gasp and collapsed.

Yi Gim cleared his throat and took a half step forward, placing himself in front of the other men in a shielding gesture and drawing focus toward himself. “It is because...they are Ogres...”

The translations provided by the system were never perfect. However, watching Yi Gim’s lips move and listening to what was said, It felt like a great deal was being lost in the translation. Like the translator was defaulting to words that were technically correct but missed the intended meaning.

If I wasn’t so surprised by the fact that they had all been able to identify the Ogres on sight, the translation would have bugged me a great deal more than it otherwise had.

“My subjects are not cannibals,” I stated bluntly while doing my best not to panic.

The faces of the other men grew pale.

It took me a moment to realise that what I had said might be misconstrued. I should have included myself in the statement to avoid such confusion.

“Of course!” Yi Gim agreed, bowing his head respectfully. “For suggesting otherwise, we again offer our most sincere apologies!” He led them in another deep bow at the waist.

“For the sake of our continued cooperation, it is forgiven,” I replied, still fighting to lower my heart rate and think of a way to broach the subject from a less aggressive avenue.

“Thank you for your patience,” Yi Gim bowed his head once more and then adopted a more neutral stance as he stepped aside. “Prominent authorities from within the city have gathered to pay their respects and give thanks for coming to our aid,” Yi Gim explained, motioning to the three old men beside him.

The men bowed low again and the eldest among them stepped forward. Unlike the others, he wore only a breastplate and open-faced helmet over short blue and green robes, and despite his age, he moved with a fluid grace.

“I am Seon Hyun-Ki, Grand Elder of the Still Waters sect. It is an honour to have fought alongside such a formidable ally.” Seon Hyun-Ki bowed respectfully and stepped aside, standing opposite Yi Gim. The two men appeared to hold one another in high esteem. So I could only assume Hyun-Ki was a reasonably loyal subordinate or subject.

The next man to step forward was mostly hidden beneath his cyan armour, making it difficult to take note of any distinguishing features. Despite his earlier fears, he appeared to have received a sudden boost in confidence. “Greetings most esteemed Monarch! I am Ji Daesung! An elder in good standing of the Suwon clan! It is a great honour to have made the acquaintance of such an accomplished warrior!”

Yi Gim scowled ever so slightly before regaining control over himself and concealing his distress.

“Please, if the most esteemed Monarch ever requires anything. Know that my Suwon clan is at the Tyrant’s service!” Ji Daesung insisted eagerly.

More than capable of recognising when someone was buttering me up for a favour, I wasn’t impressed.

The third and final man frowned impatiently and dryly cleared his throat to signal for Ji Daesung to move along. As if to taunt the man, Ji Daesung slowly bowed at the waist and held the pose for several long seconds before finally stepping aside.

“Heavens’ blessings upon you Monarch for your timely intervention,” the third man made a modest bow and then removed his helmet. The right side of his face, scalp and neck were a ruin of scar tissue. A pale green jade prosthetic eye rested in his right eye socket. The fake eye bore a host of small scripts in place of the iris and a larger singular character in place of the pupil. “I am Do Jung and have the honour of holding the post of Supreme Commander of Monarch Yi’s forces within this city.” He bowed again, this time to Yi Gim, before returning his focus to me again. “As a grandfather, father and uncle, I offer my sincerest thanks for your timely arrival and intervention!” Do Jung clasped his fists tightly and bowed low.

Several men amongst the troupe of retainers did the same. Whether they were his relatives or subordinates was unclear, but the sentiment appeared genuine.

I inclined my head as a show of graciously accepting the gesture.

Three members of the combined retinues, including the man who had given cause for the original apology, fell back several steps in a panic and reached for their weapons. Earning castigating glares from their masters.

To be fair, even sitting down, I was twice the height of the tallest man present, and the discussion of cannibalism was almost certainly still circulating within their minds. I was large enough that biting a man in two was not outside the realm of possibilities. Assuming, of course, that I ever had cause to do so.

However, now that I had the opportunity to pay more attention to them. Those who had reacted the most poorly appeared to bear identifying markings on their armour matching that worn by Ji Daesung. Which would explain why he seemed to be taking their reaction the most poorly.

“The rhythm of the drums changed,” I commented conversationally to Yi Gim. “Is that a signal that the danger is less severe?”

Visibly relieved by the excuse to change subjects, Yi Gim nodded gracefully in agreement. “Indeed it is. Until we are certain that the danger has passed, the drums will continue. However, as you have noticed, the rhythm and intensity announce our expectations to all within the city so they may react and prepare accordingly.”

While it wasn’t as direct as issuing Quests might be, it certainly had the advantage that it didn’t require literacy to achieve the desired results.

An intense burst of Chi abruptly drew not only my attention but also the attention of everyone present.

“WHERE IS HE?!!! WHERE IS THE BASTARD WHO MURDERED MY SON?!!!” A grief-stricken voice demanded. “SURRENDER HIM NOW AND I WILL MAKE YOUR DEATHS QUICK!!!”

“This is?...” Do Jung shared an anxious glance with Seon Hyun-Ki and Yi Gim. The tone in his voice suggested that he knew who the voice belonged to but was hoping he was wrong.

“Hong Lei...” Yi Gim confirmed grimly, “Grand elder of the Hong clan...”

Perfectly capable of seeing where things were headed, I slowly rose to my feet and began to stretch.

“No, this is my responsibility,” Yi Gim insisted. “I owe you too much already. Please, allow me to settle this matter.”

“If you insist...” I shrugged in a show of indifference.

After everything that had happened, I assumed Yi Gim probably wanted to make the most of the opportunity to remind his subjects of his strength.

Before he could leave, I withdrew an ornate crimson jade cutlass from my Storage Ring and offered it to Yi Gim. “This was meant to be a gift,” I lied.

Ochram had made dozens of such weapons, experimenting with the means of developing weapons for use by the Cultivators among my subjects. The Spiritual Jade of the blade could serve as a battery, providing an external source of Chi that could be drawn upon during battle. A small energy gathering Formation running down the length of the blade would, hypothetically, allow the sword to regenerate its reserves independently of the owner over time.

It was an early effort, to be certain. However, the Empowered Spell that strengthened the blade was my primary cause for offering up the weapon. I had taken several risks saving Yi Gim’s life and safeguarding his position. The last thing I wanted was for him to be cut down in an honour duel.

Armour would have been better, but I had nothing on hand that wouldn’t clash with his cultural aesthetic. A weapon could be explained away easily enough. Armour was far more difficult to explain, and would only invite further speculations regarding his personal competency.

Or at least, those were my thoughts behind limiting myself to the cutlass.

“I...This...” Yi Gim slowly shook his head but was unable to take his eyes off the sword. “It is too much...” He breathed, grimacing as if the words caused him immense pain. “I cannot accept this...”

“I insist,” I tilted my fingers and dropped the cutlass.

As I had hoped, Yi Gim’s awe of the sword compelled him to snatch it from the air before it had a chance to fall against the dirt in the street.

“It is an early effort by my refinement specialist,” I explained, partially for the outsiders’ benefit and to raise Yi Gim’s prestige. “I am not familiar with such weapons, and it is many times too small for me besides. You would be doing me a favour in testing its strength on my behalf.”

Yi Gim glanced discreetly toward Seon Hyun-Ki, Ji Daesung and Do Jung. “If it is the sincerest wish of my trusted ally, how can I refuse?” He bowed, balancing the blade of the sword on both palms. “Thank you for your gift.” Conjuring a scabbard from his Storage Ring, Yi Gim sheathed the cutlass and affixed it to his waist. With a final curt nod of thanks and one hand on the hilt of the cutlass, he marched off toward the breach in the wall.

Seon Hyun-Ki, Ji Daesung and Do Jung made small bows, politely excusing themselves before leading their retinues after Yi Gim.

Despite my initial intentions to remain uninvolved, the incoherent shouting from beyond the wall and the clash of steel became too much to ignore.

Rising to my feet, I began making my way toward the breach.

A scraping sound at my back gave me pause. Looking over my shoulder, I found one of the Ogres carrying my machete. On the smaller side, even for the wild Ogres, the awkward length and weight of the machete resulted in the tip of its spine dragging across the ground.

“F-For Tyrant!” The small Ogre, Mud, insisted with a nervous stutter, jostling the machete in his arms excitedly to show his eagerness to obey.

It occurred to me that I must have lost track of the weapon at some point during the battle.

Created from the Empowered Shape Stone Spell, the machete was impervious to mundane sources of damage. Its short trip across the street pavers had left shallow scars in the stones and mortar. Given the state of the surrounding streets and the wall looming ahead, the damage was negligible.

“You retrieved this from the battlefield?” I asked, taking my time to enunciate each syllable clearly. The Ogres were not particularly bright, and if I wanted an accurate answer I needed to make sure I wasn’t being misunderstood.

Mud nodded his head vigorously, causing the tip of the machete’s spine to clatter against the street. “Mud do!” The little Ogre confirmed eagerly.

“Why didn’t you hand it over sooner?” I pressed, curious to hear the reasoning behind carrying the machete around instead of returning it.

Mud’s brow devolved into a mass of thick wrinkles as he considered the question. After several long moments of silence, he appeared to have arrived at his answer. “Sarge say-” Mud cleared his throat and stood a little taller by straightening his back, “-No talk when Sarge talk! Do things Sarge say! Mud talk, Mud hit!” He spoke with an almost cartoonish quality, imitating the larger Ogre Sergeants, who were in turn imitating their human drill instructors. Mud beamed with pride and cast a wary eye at one of the nearby Sergeants, who gave Mud a calculating glare in return.

No doubt, if I wasn’t present, Mud would likely have received a beating or some other form of punishment. Unless I was misreading their intent, which was entirely possible. While Ogre expressions were about as subtle as Orcs, certain cultural differences ran contrary to what my Western sensibilities and social conditioning expected.

“So you were waiting until you had a chance to speak with me alone?” I guessed, trying to keep things simple.

Mud nodded.

Credit where it was due, he had taken his original orders and expanded upon them in a way I hadn’t expected. Assuming I was giving credit to the right motivations.

“Follow me,” I ordered and continued toward the breach.

Mud giggled and guffawed with happiness as he began jogging to keep pace, causing the machete to clatter against the street in a weird musical accompaniment.

Ogres up and down the road stopped their gorging and stared at Mud with envy. Which was fair enough. However, it was the glares of the Sergeants that made me realise I had made a mistake.

I had just made Mud a target.

Until this moment, the Ogres had a simple hierarchy. The largest were the ones in charge and were given the greatest privileges.

Glancing over my shoulder, it quickly became clear that Mud hadn’t noticed.

I ‘could’ order the Ogres to leave Mud alone, but I had experienced enough bullying on Earth to know that such orders would only make things worse. I wouldn’t be able to think of every potential means of harassment, and the more I sheltered him, the worse it would get.

The only real option at this point was to remove him from their influence outright. Which would almost certainly make things just as bad if he was ever to return to the ranks.

Short of knocking Mud down, publicly humiliating him and setting him firmly back in his place, keeping him in my immediate vicinity would be the best means of protecting him.

“ENOUGH!!!” The same voice from before howled in rage.

Passing through the breach, I found Yi Gim exchanging lightning-fast sword strikes with an old man with long white hair and flowing crimson robes.

Seon Hyun-Ki, Ji Daesung and Do Jung were similarly engaged against four men wearing the same robes with the addition of breastplates and helmets.

“YOU WILL SURRENDER HIM TO ME!!!” The old man in crimson robes roared, brandishing a large ruby in his left fist. “SURRENDER HIM NOW!!! OR I WILL DESTROY YOUR ENTIRE REALM!!!”

The ruby pulsed with an internal light, sending waves of powerful energy flooding in all directions. Golden script encircled the ruby and trailed up the old man’s arm before dissipating in the wind.

As if sensing my presence, the old man turned away from Yi Gim and stared back at me with absolute hatred burning in his dark sunken eyes. “YOU!!! YOU TOOK MY SON FROM ME!!!” He howled with rage. “NOW I WILL TAKE EVERYTHING FROM YOU!!!” He clenched his fist around the ruby.

For a moment, there was absolute silence.

Yi Gim and the other Cultivators, including those on the side of the enemy, leapt backwards dozens of feet in a single bound, anticipating danger.

Translucent cracks spread across the sky and small pieces began raining down like shards of a broken mirror, revealing an inky black void beyond.

Large clawed crimson fingers reached out from the void, anchoring into the edges of the sky bordering the void and sending new cracks emanating outward as whatever lay within attempted to draw itself out.

Blood streaming from the cuts made by the shattered ruby in his hand, the old man howled with demented laughter. “A TREASURE EVEN MONARCHS FEAR!!!”

A dark crimson face with shark-like teeth appeared within the void and began to descend slowly.

“BEAR WITNESS TO ABSOLUTE DESTRUCTION!!!” The old man screamed, his face twisted in a deranged smile. “FACE YOUR END AT THE CLAWS OF A DEMON LORD!!!”

The creature within the void opened its mouth, causing the air to ripple like water. No sound passed its lips. Instead, the distortions carried a wave of absolute silence in its wake.

<PAIN!!!> Kwan’s consciousness shook my own before abruptly all but cutting off our connection.

Pain erupted within my head, causing me to stagger and nearly fall. Crimson blotches appeared in the corners of my eyes and I could feel the blood beginning to well within my ears.

The creature’s gaze drifted, its serpentine eyes settling on me. Thick bloody tears fell from its eyes and struck what I could only assume was some form of invisible barrier at the mouth of the void. Despite its tears, the creature’s mouth twisted into a wide tooth filled smile.

Something tried to enter my mind but recoiled before it could bring more than a token degree of pressure to bear.

The creature’s smile faltered, its eyes narrowing with uncertainty.

The probing touch came again and retreated just as quickly as before.

The creature’s gaze shifted behind me and it appeared to have regained its confidence.

I felt the pressure on my mind for a third time. This time via proxy.

The creature’s face recoiled and it looked toward the walls.

Fleeting applications of pressure made it obvious that the creature was targeting more of my subordinates. Most likely hoping to find someone with low Willpower. Unfortunately for it, all of those challenges were defaulted back to me.

Realising its dilemma, the creature changed targets yet again.

The old man’s laughter abruptly turned to screams of pain and terror.

Sinews and muscles ran like water as bones broke themselves apart over and over again, twisting and bending as they took on new forms.

Having witnessed as much each time I transformed before a reflective surface, I continued watching with a wary eye while evaluating my options.

The smartest move would be employing the Banishment Spell. The creature’s arrival and blatant act of Possession made it the exact target the Spell was made for. However, there was a problem. The creature within the void had not disappeared or changed locations. It was still up there, slowly drawing itself closer and eroding the edges of what I could only assume was its prison.

Leaving it in two places at once.

As I continued watching, I became aware of my mistake. A nearly imperceptible stream of ephemeral crimson energy was flowing out from the creature and was entering the old man’s broken and misshapen flesh. Fueling his continued transformation.

Left with the uncertainty of how much MP would be needed to Banish the creature, I decided to err on the side of caution and withdrew a barrel of Mana Potion from my Storage Ring. Hesitating for only a moment longer, I downed the discoloured brew in one large gulp.

Ignoring the burning sensation of the alcohol, I could feel the new MP beginning to circulate through my body. Gathering that MP I set my focus on the creature within the void and prepared to cast my Spell.

“Wait...” The ruined remains of the old man raised a misshapen hand.

The space between us evaporated in an instant, leaving only a handful of feet between us.

“We...can...negotiate...” The twisted thing wheezed.

“No,” I replied confidently. “I don’t think we can.” The thing had attacked me at the first opportunity it got. Then, if that wasn’t bad enough, it tried to do the same with my subordinates and subjects.

Nearly twice the old man’s original height, the thing wearing the old man’s skin stared back at me from behind milky white eyes. “This...is...unwise...” It warned in a dry rasping voice. Its neck popped, crackled and crunched as it turned to face Mud. “The...weak...will...suffer...” It threatened with a grin, revealing a mouth full of broken teeth and bloody ruin.

That was enough.

Without giving further warning, I conjured a stone spear from my Storage Ring and drove it through the chest of the old man’s broken body. “Banishment!” I growled, twisting the shaft of the spear and hooking the anchoring spikes into its stolen flesh.

Right away, I could tell that the MP I had on hand wouldn’t be enough. Worse, I might not have enough HP to maintain the attempt through Sorcery either.

Unable to stop the Spell, I only had two options. I could ride it out and hope for the best.

Or...I could take another risk...

Faced with the prospect of losing HP either way, I decided to Empower the Spell with my blood.

Ignoring the pain, I conjured Healing and Mana Potions from my Storage Ring and downed them in rapid succession using ym free hand. After exhausting my limited supplies, I began gorging myself on my emergency provisions, ripping and tearing through meat, gizzards and bone in a near-frenzied state.

Even with these measures, my MP and HP continued to drop.

The broken body of the old man bucked and flailed its limbs around with spastic abandon as if it was being electrocuted on a Saturday morning cartoon. However, the thing sheltering inside of it showed no signs that it was being driven out.

Making matters worse, the thing seemed to be growing stronger, drawing in more of its power at a vastly accelerated rate.

Without warning, one of the old man’s twisted arms seized the spear shaft. A half a second later, claw-like fingers on its other hand swiped at my left hand. The fingers and sharpened nails shattered on impact with my gauntlet but reformed themselves in close to a fraction of a second afterwards.

“No...” The thing wheezed with the same deflated and understated voice. “Stop...this...” It seized the shaft of the spear with both hands. However, instead of attempting to draw itself closer to try and strike at my exposed face, it tried to dislodge itself from the spikes, barbs and crossguard.

Quickly overcoming my surprise, I changed my grip on the spear and drove the head of the spear down into the ground, staking the creature in place. Now, if it wanted to free itself, it would need to draw itself over the entire spear shaft to escape. A feat that would be made all the more difficult with my right foot driving down on its pelvis.

“Stop...” The thing wheezed. “Anything...Name it...”

I glanced up toward the creature in the sky and was relieved to find that it appeared to be in a similar state of distress to its puppet. Instead of drawing itself closer, it seemed to be trying to push itself away, although to little avail. It had also grown noticeably smaller, having lost what I guessed was close to a fifth of its original size.

“Submit.” The demand slipped out of my mouth before I even realised what I had said.

“Submission...” The thing wearing the old man’s skin croaked pitiably. “No...Never...again...”

I twisted the spear and increased the pressure on the thing’s abdomen. All the while ignoring the disgusting sensation of the bloated organs and ropes of muscles moving beneath my foot.

I shrugged indifferently. I hadn’t intended to make the offer in the first place and was under no compulsion to argue the matter. The old man had claimed the thing in the sky was a Demon Lord, and I had no reason to willingly take on such a headache when I was on the verge of being rid of it.

Or was I?

Setting aside my emotions and taking a few moments to concentrate, I realised that I had been operating under a potentially dangerous misunderstanding. The Demon Lord was not being Banished at all, it was being imprisoned and bound within my spear.

Like an embalming machine connected to a corpse, the Spell was draining the Demon Lord’s energy through its puppet proxy. Contrary to appearances, the form looming in the sky was not a physical presence, but one made of energy. Meaning, the Demon Lord’s mind was being transferred alongside its power.

The puppet’s current boost in strength was due to the Demon Lord’s resistance and a testament to its will. Somehow drawing energy away and empowering its puppet before the energy could enter the spear.

Sensing movement in my peripheral vision, I found Yi Gim staggering in my direction. He had cast off his helmet and had dark crimson trails of blood running from the corners of his eyes and from his ears. Jade cutlass in hand, he pressed determinedly onward, his gaze firmly locked on the flailing flesh puppet pinned on my spear.

Adjusting my grip, I held up one hand to signal for him to stop. My eardrums had already repaired themselves, but I had no way of knowing if Yi Gim would recover nearly as quickly.

Yi Gim stared back at me for several long tense moments before slowly nodding his head in agreement. He then motioned to his ears and shook his head, perhaps guessing at my train of thought.

With my MP in a state of freefall and his communication token compromised or otherwise destroyed, we had no choice but to trust one another.

Creating a temporary energy-gathering formation centred on myself, I did my best to cycle my Chi and draw the traces of mana from the surroundings. However, the violent and desperate thrashing of the Demon Lord’s puppet made it difficult to maintain a decent level of concentration. Which directly impacted the amount of mana I could gather.

Mud appeared in my peripheral vision, wobbling unsteadily on his feet and with my machete raised above his head. With a savage snarl, Mud brought the blade of the machete down with all the force he could muster, cleaving through the puppet’s right arm.

The puppet shrieked in pain or fury. The amputated arm withered at an impossibly fast rate, the gnarled fingers curling and drawing tight into the palm like a grotesque spider.

Mud roared back at the puppet and heaved, raising the machete for another strike.

“Wait!...Wait!...” The puppet rasped, but Mud was indifferent to its pleas, having been deafened like nearly everyone else.

The machete fell a second time, shearing off the puppet’s right leg at the knee. Sёarᴄh the NôvelFire.nёt website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

Just the same as the arm, once removed from the puppet’s body, the leg withered and its retracting tendons caused the amputated limb to briefly spasm in the dirt.

Mud nodded grimly to himself and raised the machete for a third time, lining up the blade with the puppet’s right hip.

“No!...” The puppet hissed, abandoning its assault on the spear and raising its left arm as if to try and ward off the imminent attack.

Mud ignored it, bringing down the machete for a third time. However, his aim proved poor and the blade fell hard against the puppet’s right thigh, breaking the bone and hacking a curving slice into the flesh, but leaving the remaining portion of the limb attached.

If I wasn’t protected by my stone-plated boots, I would have taken the botched amputation far more seriously.

Mud scowled and yanked the machete free for another try.

“Mercy!...” The puppet gasped, losing its left hand and half the left forearm as Mud lost his balance and the machete fell across the puppet’s chest.

Casting a glance skyward, I felt a surge of relief upon discovering the Demon Lord’s body had shrunk to the dimensions of an average human. Assuming the size of the Demon Lord’s body was relative to its remaining energy, I was on track to complete the Empowered Banishment and still have just over half my HP to spare.

Perhaps recognising its final chance to negotiate was at hand, the puppet raised its head and stared up at me with its empty white eyes. “Parley?!...” It wheezed pitiably, flinching as Mud prepared for another strike.

“Submission, or eternal imprisonment,” I replied grimly, motioning for Mud to wait a moment. If I had to, I would have no problems burying the spear beneath a mountain in an isolated territory and throwing away the proverbial key. As an unknown that presented a host of potential dangers, I was inclined to rescind the offer and just be done with it.

The puppet’s head rolled back lifelessly against the dirt and a corrupted notification appeared before my eyes and was followed by several more before an uncorrupted notification took their place announcing the Demon Lord’s recruitment.

Just as the old man had claimed, the creature now residing within my spear was, in fact, a Demon Lord. While interesting, the Species was far less interesting than the accompanying title.

Purge Operative {Tier One}.

As disturbing as the body of the title was, the implications of the tiered rankings were far more unsettling. A fact that was made worse with the understanding that the Demon Lord was almost certainly one of the ‘heavenly forces’ that had driven Yi Gim and the other Monarch Cultivators from their previous world.

Suppressing the urge to panic, I was now incredibly thankful that I had decided to Empower the Banishment Spell. If I hadn’t there was no telling what might have happened. For all I knew, Banishing the Demon Lord would have returned him to his kind and potentially opened the door to future reprisal.

Ambushing an unprepared enemy was one thing. Surviving an ambush in turn was another thing entirely. A lesson I had learned only too well.