[15] Delta Familiars

[15] Delta Familiars

Freja watched as the steel wolf bared down on Bjorn, its massive jaws biting onto his back and sides. Her familiars were scales no match for the ferocity of the massive wolf. It lifted him into the air as Freja turned around digging her nails into the ground to stop her momentum. She rushed at the beast not concerned at all with the other wolves which were slowly surrounding them. Her eyes were locked onto the druid familiar that was currently hurting her Bjorn.

As soon as she was in range one of the wind hands flung forward with all of the speed she could muster. The stone it was carrying smashing right into the head of the steel wolf with a loud crash. Steel wolves were tough, pretty obvious given the name but their ability is to harden themselves against kinetic attacks. The wolf was more surprised than injured as it dropped Bjorn and backed off before the second stone could land its strike.

Luckily this time she had remembered to have the hands let go right before impact and didn’t have to resummon them. She ran to Bjorn while using the wind hands to orbit her in a makeshift shield to keep the wolves at bay. Bjorn was bleeding heavily; his sides were a wreck of torn flesh and even exposed ribs.

“Bjorn, baby, you're going to be okay.” Freja said, trying to keep her voice calm. “We are going to get out of here.”

As she got closer Bjorn started to whip at her with his tail to keep her away. He struggled to stand as he faced the steel wolf and its pack. Nine of them in all. Freja wanted to believe that they could get out of this alive and that someone would save them. That her surviving the troll meant something, that her life meant something, that Bjorn’s trust in her meant something.

She couldn’t see a way out of this situation, sure Bjorn killed the troll but that was one monster, one stupid lumbering thing. The druid’s familiar wasn’t dumb, it had some intelligence and was well trained. It was fast and had a pack at its disposal. She looked down at her familiar as he continued to walk closer to the semicircle of wolves.

She realized she didn’t need anyone to save them; she had Bjorn and that was all she needed. She felt like she could trust whatever he was planning. That is when she felt a swell of magic and heat erupted from in front of her. A wave of green fire that shifted as magic permeated throughout the blaze. What was at first an unruly plume of fire quickly shifted into an unnatural purple stream of heat that sparkled with violet lightning. The wolves were completely engulfed in moments as howls and cries echoed throughout the forest.

“What the fuck?” Freja exclaimed as the display caused her to fall backwards on her butt.

Waves of fire stopped spewing from Bjorn as the familiar toppled over to his side. Freja wasted no time crawling over to him to get him away from the now raging forest fire he had caused. Several wolves stumbled out of the fire only to start convulsing and spewing blood while burning alive. Freja realized the flames were toxic; they infected whomever touched them with the same venom that killed the troll. She needed to get them away from this place and quickly.

She allowed one of the wind hands to drop the stone it was carrying and pick up her alchemy case while she carried the unconscious Bjorn. As soon as she did, the steel wolf burst out of the fire with half of its fur burned away, exposing bleeding blackened skin beneath. It snapped at her half heartedly as it whimpered and started to limp away in a sad jaunt. She could tell it was going back to its master.

Rage filled her heart as she thought about how some druid fuck was out here in her country targeting her people and trying to kill her. She couldn’t just leave knowing that whomever was out in the forest was just going to heal this familiar who has killed who knows how many people. Most of all she wanted the wolf and whoever sent it to pay for hurting Bjorn. She knew it wasn’t the smartest move . It was most likely a trained soldier or even a cell of druid terrorists. Even so she wanted blood.

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She blinked at the information, finally seeing the benefit in the mental projection magic. Before she could close the window a second one appeared which caused her to open her eyes wide at the implications.

Unassigned Cultivation Points Distribution

You have 10 UCP

Please assign all UCP within 10 days or it will be automatically assigned.

Assign [yes/no]

She was a cultivator now, how did that happen? She needed more time to think and her mind was frazzled as it was. She closed all of the menus and put her mind back on the situation at hand. She was in enemy territory after all and she needed to focus.

She felt the magic before she ever saw the man. It was a knotted twisting of the natural world which caused her to feel unsettled to the core. She had never felt this particular type of magic of course but had heard it described plenty of times in textbooks and by veterans of the war. It was eerie how accurate the descriptions were to the feel of druidic magic. It was almost like it spoke to her instincts as something that should not exist.

She peeked out from behind the tree and what she saw was not what she expected. The druid man was definitely a soldier, his mossy green combat robes attested to his allegiances. Well what was left of his uniform and of him. His outfit was torn to shreds and dried blood, dirt and only the Forest Father knows what else clung to him. One of his antlers was broken.

His body was no better, his magic was holding him together like a marionette doll. Right arm, left leg, most of his side, neck and face were living wood prosthetics rushed together in a desperate attempt to keep him on life support. He smelled of rot and festering wounds like a living corpse. As he walked he had to prop himself up with his staff each step causing old wounds to reopen and fresh blood to drip.

“Gordo. Gordo buddy no-no no.” The druid screamed. “Stay with me. I will get you healed, okay?”

The man's anguish and appearance was almost disarming. At the core of things druids and wendigo look similar; both of them have the form of the Forest Father. The most striking traits to tell them apart are their antlers and teeth. A druid's antlers can be more accurately described as those of a moose, large and flat while the wendigo have those of deer. The druids are herbivores that can only eat plants while the wendigo are obligate carnivores that only eat meat.

“Where are you? You fucking cannibal savage.” The druid screamed enraged. “I can feel your cursed fucking magic. I know you are there. Get out here coward, savage, look at what you have done. Fuck, Gordo don’t close your eyes.”ViiSiit novelbi/n(.)c/(o)m for latest novels