《The Book of Mors: Summoned》 Prologue ~ Dull yellow crystals barely illuminated a musty, dark room, surrounded by large, overfilled shelves and piles of haphazardly stacked books. In the centre of the room was a circular table with two men sitting on opposite sides. The man who sat closest to the large, wooden door, was wearing exceedingly ornate clothing, marking him as someone with high social standing and wealth. His eyebrows furrowed as he leant forward, placing his elbows on the table and grasping his hands. "And I am supposed to believe you are doing all of this out of the kindness of your heart... Mr representative of the Sun Clan? You haven''t even told me your real name." Greying fox ears protruded out from the head of the man on the opposite side of the table, as he sat impassively before a belittling smile covered his face, intelligence and cunning dancing menacingly in his dark brown eyes. "Not at all... Prince Harken... What I am proposing is a mutually beneficial arrangement. For that to happen, both sides must get something out of it. I had hoped your father would have taught you at least that before passing on." The prince''s frown deepened as he struggled to mask his emotions. "My father has been dead less than a month and was only buried last week... Mind your words, representative, for our kingdom, may only be a shadow of its former self, but we still have sharp teeth and a nasty bite." The foxkin laughed at the human''s very beastkin like response. "Oh, of that I have no doubt, young prince, or else I would not be here." His mocking smile widened. "But I guess that being on the verge of civil war, having the Empire demand unrestricted military access to your lands and having the Federation''s Huntsmen operating in the area has me a bit dubious of the longevity of your nation, making your threats seem a little... pathetic." The prince''s eyes narrowed, and his hands visibly shook from anger. "We are the descendants of the Kingdom of Man. The blood of the human heroes flows in our veins, and our ''tiny'' army has held off the Empire and Federation for hundreds of years. Even if we are to fall, we will do it with our heads held high and swords in our hands." "I would have thought that the destruction of the Moon Clan would have taught the world what happens when you think with your muscles and ideals instead of common sense and logic," laughed the representative in contempt. "What about your younger sister? Does she have this ''heroic'' heritage flowing through her veins?" Standing up abruptly, the prince slammed his hands down on the table and glared into the foxkin''s eyes. "Do not bring my sister into this, she is my sister before anything else, and I will not have her slandered in front of me, or by the Seven Sins, they will not find enough of your corpse to feed a fly." With an unimpressed look, the foxkin raised his hands in a surrendering manner. "Why would I speak ill of your sister? She is of the beastkin race, same as me, and from what I hear, along with your full blood sister, who seems to have inherited your father''s personality, they are the only ones trying to unify your kingdom without violence." He shook his head in a mocking manner. "I think you have been hanging around the human supremacists you call nobles too much, that or you have a guilty conscious about something?" The prince sat down but did not speak; his eyes were filled with hate for the man in front of him as well as a hint of sadness. Waiting for the prince to calm down, the Sun Clan representative began talking. "If you wanted the reason why we have come to you, then you only had to ask." "I did," Interrupted Harken, clearly irritated. "Many times." The representative continued, his eye twitching slightly in annoyance. "The Antaeth Basin, in which the only surviving kingdoms of men exist, is pivotal in keeping the power balance between the Federation, Empire and the Mystic Republic." He let out a deep breath, apparently bored with the subject already. "Currently, they are in a cold war, unwilling to throw the first punch in case of a surprise attack by the third. If either the Empire or the Federation were to gain control of the basin, then they could successfully hold off the other, using the natural terrain to their advantage and commit their full attention to the Republic. The Republic is only a threat when mobilised, they have little to no defences, preferring to live with nature meaning that after their armies are defeated, it would almost be laughable how much resistance they could muster before being completely crushed." The representative stopped, and made sure the prince was paying attention. "Your marriage to the princess of Inetaria was a brilliant political move, but it drew the wrong kind of attention. Both the Empire and Federation are worried the human kingdoms will unite, removing any possibility they will have of conquering the basin without a significant commitment and loss of life. If they were to do so, it would also make them easy targets for the Republic. And if they were to attack the Republic, the opposing force being allowed passage through your lands to attack them from behind." "And why would we allow that?" said the Prince, his temper finally receding. "Because if one of them conquered the Republic, then they would gain massive amounts of resources and fresh recruits making it easy to smash through the basin in a couple of years. It''s in your interest to keep them as weak as possible without openly going to war, If one side gets too far ahead, it is not difficult to see them conquering the entire continent in a few decades." The prince scratched the stubble on his chin. "Father always said the reason we survived after the Kingdom of Man fell, was due to our enemies fighting amongst themselves." A smirk grew on his face as he berated himself for getting sucked into the foxkin''s story and revealing information. "So how does summoning thirty-two beings from another dimension help? Also, the legends talk about the Great Calamity on the mainland caused by a summoning. Are you sure you¡¯re not using us because we are far enough away that if something goes wrong, you won''t instantly die?" This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. The smile on the fox kin did not even waver. "Although linked, the summoning was not the cause of the Great Calamity. We have made sure that only new souls will be targeted... It''s not like we are going to do something that has any chance of destroying the last habitable continent in the world is it?" He put his hand into his dark robes and pulled out a bundle of parchment. "I guess in simpler terms, is that if we can''t have any of the major players have something that will tip the scales, we must create a fourth player. Within five years, with the right training and leadership, the summoned will be the backbone of your army, making any attempt to attack the basin, suicidal." Casually throwing the parchment onto the centre of the table, the foxkin stood up grasping a dark green crystal in his hand. "Oh... As we will be providing the vast quantities of materials needed and dealing with your little... domestic problem, we will be taking ten of the summoned; the other twenty-two are yours to do with as you wish. So... your decision?" "Can you guarantee that none of this will harm my kingdom?" Distrust was evident in the prince''s eyes, but he was in a precarious situation, even more so than the representative had revealed. "We are merely providing the tools and opportunity; it is up to you how you use them. We will not rule your kingdom for you," said the foxkin, impatience heavy in his voice. The prince sighed. "You already know I can''t really refuse... but I can demand one more condition." The foxkin turned his back and walked towards the wall behind him. "We will ensure your two sisters get into the Hitoln Grand Mages Academy and pay all of their expenses while things are... unsettled here and guarantee their safety.. Ensure the location marked on the map meets the requirements in two weeks, including the thirty-two Knight or higher ranked souls, Goodbye, Prince Harken. " "Just how much do you know?" muttered the prince as he shook his head and glared the man''s back. Throwing the green crystal to the floor, the foxkin was enveloped in smoke before faded into nothingness, his voice lingering a few seconds before also vanishing. "We are the Sun Clan... We know everything young prince¡­ Everything." Ten minutes later the prince pushed open the heavy wooden doors with a dark expression and walked into a brightly lit corridor. Every ten feet, a guard in silver plate armour, was standing with a black sash hanging around their right shoulder signifying the citadel was in mourning for their deceased king. Marching down the corridor at great speed was a young woman, the same colour hair as the prince fluttering behind her. At her side was a young girl looking to be the age of thirteen, small triangular ears twitched on her head as her cat-like eyes nervously darted about, as if expecting something to attack her at any moment. "BROTHER! I hear you are going to meet with the Sun Clan. You can''t! You should know how treacherous those people are." The young woman skidded to a halt in front of the prince, placing her hands on her hips. "Father would never deal with them." The little girl beside her looked at the prince, who smiled warmly back and ruffled her hair. "Hey Kira, how are you today?" The girl smiled back, her cat-like eyes sparkling as she visibly relaxed. "Good, but big brother, sister will get mad again if you ignore her." "She''s always mad at me," laughed the prince, feeling some of his tension receding. "I think she feels she can rule the kingdom better than me. Maybe she is going to sidetrack my coronation ceremony tomorrow." The woman''s face fell. "Brother... I would never..." Laughing the prince waved his hand and revealed a mischievous grin. "I know you wouldn''t, Elanor; you just want to do what''s best for the kingdom, like me." His smile vanished, and he lowered his voice. "Dark times call for drastic measures. The wolf is at the door, and unless we do something, the kingdom will fall, and its people suffer." "But the Sun Clan...." Harken motioned for his sisters to lead the way in the direction they had just come from. "They are only here because they know we have no other options. Sometimes you have to make a pact with a devil to keep a demon at bay." ======================================================================= Hey Guys! Guess who''s back! Due to the huge demand for a placeholder post and interest here is the first draft of the Prologue for the Book of Mors:Summoned. Below is the Info Document I will be working in (Hopfully this should be a good solution for those who want it and those that don''t. (I am content poping it with ''finalised'' concepts today/tonight. If you have anything you want answered that WILL NOT spoil the story. Let me know and I will see if I can get it in. **Warning May Contain Spoilers** https://docs.google.com/document/d/15uov_ahObYf2-6EhHWpEamMpL0p4qLAaY_czJhgWjKA/edit?usp=sharing Thanks for reading ! BOM:Summoned - Summoning - Chapter 1 The sun was slowly setting in the east, casting the last of its fiery red light on the barren mountainside as a large group of armoured knights, riding magnificent war horses, galloped up a narrow path. In the distance behind the knights, the imposing city of Alzor, the pride of all humanity, stood out in stark contrast to the land around it, its grey stone walls and majestic towers reaching hundreds of feet into the air. All of the soldiers were wearing similar, ornate silver armour with vibrant red cloaks, adorned with the figure of a man holding a silver spear in one hand and a glowing golden sun in the other, except for the two stationed in the middle of the group. One of the figures was a giant of a man, dressed in black armour with a matching heavy sword strapped to his back. Next to him was a much slimmer but no less intimidating figure, the golden crown circling his helmet glinting in the dying light. ¡°General Rynheart, we will be arriving soon,¡± one of the riders called back, causing the man in black armour to shake his head and spit on the floor through the small gap in his helmet. ¡°Why don''t you yell it a bit louder and let everyone know? Fucking moron.¡± The man who had called out visibly shrank his saddle in a vain attempt to make himself less noticeable. The crowned figure next to Rynheart raised his visor and gave the general a look of sympathy. ¡°Don''t be too hard on them; they were forced into this position to try and gain favour for their families. They haven''t been on the front lines like you have.¡± ¡°Pfft,¡± snorted Rynheart. ¡°You have not been king a month, and already those corrupt, backstabbing aristocrats are swarming around you like flies over dung.¡± King Harken laughed, although anyone who knew him well, could tell it was strained. ¡°Comparing your new king to shit already? I thought you would have at least given me time to get the throne warm.¡± General Rynheart sighed noisily, removing his helmet with one hand. ¡°Why should I when you¡¯re so desperate to get yourself killed? Risking your life for no other reason than stubbornness and an idiotic sense of justice is beyond foolhardy. Why can''t you just stay in the citadel and do king stuff and leave the dangerous stuff to professionals?¡± "The first lesson my father taught me, was that a good king must always take responsibility for his actions, even if they are for the benefit of the people. Putting my responsibilities aside, what man would I be if I condemned these thirty-two souls to the abyss without even having the courage to look them in the eye?" ¡°A normal one,¡± muttered Rynheart respectfully, knowing full well that he could not change his king''s mind. "Especially when dealing with the scum of society, so despicable that not even their own mothers would miss them.¡± Harken ignored the comment and shifted in his saddle. "Is everything in place?" "The Masons Guild completed the preparations a few days ago, giving the Royal Magicians enough time to engrave the runes and run as many tests as they could without contaminating the site," said Rynheart in a matter of fact tone. "We received the ''materials'' from the... brokers yesterday, and everything should be in place by the time we arrive. If everything goes according to plan, we should be finished by early morning." This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. "Brokers?" Harken thought for a moment before frowning. "I take it the Sun Council aren''t gracing us with their presence." "I would have thought you knew better than that. Those bastards never get their hands dirty." A bitter smile crept up Rynheart''s face. "They have provided enough crystals for a teleportation array to be set up for forty people. They say that the road back is too perilous for such cargo... and our king." Harkens head snapped towards Rynheart. "What? Why was I not informed of this?" "Because someone needs to make sure this doesn''t all go to hell, and notifying you would have done nothing but cause trouble," grumbled the general. "I have the entire Royal Guard and have mobilised the 1st division at the portal''s exit. The Magicians Guild has set up formations to ensure that it cannot be tampered with, and we have already tested it both ways and also..." He paused for a moment before pulling out a dark green crystal, throwing it to Harken who grabbed it easily. "If anything goes wrong you will be using this. Otherwise, you will be returning with me. Like hell am I going to let you use something that god damned organisation has set up." Harken''s eyebrows rose at the extremely expensive crystal in his palm. "You''re really against this aren''t you?" "Of course I am, but I can''t fault your judgement or your reasons. Before we got ''help'', the kingdom was on the verge of civil war. In less than two weeks, the main culprits have either gone missing or done heaven-defying u-turns and are now actively trying to bridge the gap between races.¡± The sun had almost completely set, making it easy to spot the hundred or so torches that littered the mountainside ahead, each held by a dismounted knight. In the centre of them, a small rectangular opening barely wide enough for one man was illuminated as it dug into the mountain, disappearing deep into the earth. "I thought I told you to be inconspicuous?" said Harken, his eyes traversing the area, making a note of the few trees and many large boulders littering the mountainside. "I thought I told you to stay where it is safe and leave it to me. Who do you think they are here to protect? That boulder over there?" goaded the General. "You try hiding over a hundred armoured men with no cover. I also take it you didn''t notice the five hundred that we have passed, ensuring your route was safe... your majesty." Harken waved off his general''s whinging. "Yes, yes, you''re an outstanding general and loyal to a fault. Let''s get on with this. The sooner we get this over with, the better I will feel." "First smart thing you have said all day," huffed Rynheart as they dismounted and were saluted by the surrounding guards as they approached the small entrance. ============================================== Having withdrawal symptoms for not posting for so long, so decided to do an early release. :D Thanks for reading. General Information Document BOM:Summoned - Summoning - Chapter 2.1 Ice-like crystals were embedded into the ceiling, bathing General Rynheart, King Harken and his chosen knights, in cold, blue light as they descended deep into the heart of the mountain and towards the location selected for the first transdimensional summoning in over two thousand years. As they went, their heavy, metallic footsteps resounded off the damp, stone walls creating a strange, chilling atmosphere and putting them on edge. Due to the extremely tight deadlines given to the Masons Guild, and considering the entrance was not critical to the ritual''s performance, many of the steps were roughly cut and uneven, requiring everyone to be extra vigilant during their descent. If they lost their footing, they would crash into everyone below, causing serious injuries, especially since they were all wearing heavy plate armour. "This is a bloody death trap; let''s hope no one blocks us down here or that we need to get to the surface in a hurry." Rynheart let out a disgruntled mutter, but due to the echo, everyone heard it, causing him to berate himself silently. After a few minutes, everyone in the group had reached the bottom of the stairs, and a long, dark corridor confronted them. At the other end, an eerie, dark-red light spilt out of a doorway that had been haphazardly carved into the rock. The light flickered as people moved around inside. "Why does every magic ritual that I am forced to participate in, always have to be performed in a dark, creepy cave that feels like a devil''s Fortress or a sacrificial pit of some fanatical cult? Just once, I would like it to be carried out in the middle of a lush, green meadow with clear, blue skies and under a bright, warm sun," grumbled Rynheart as he subconsciously touched the hilt of the sword hanging from his back, letting out a deep, uneasy breath. After gracefully removing his helmet, Harken looked over at the general and smiled reassuringly. "That makes two of us, my friend. Unfortunately, the mana radiation caused by this type of ritual would pollute the surrounding area, mutating the landscape and those living nearby; it takes over a hundred years for the chaos energies created to separate back into their natural forms." Rynheart sneered as he noticed a few of the knights tense at their king''s words and took the chance to regain some of his pride from his grumblings. "Stop being a bunch of babies; you would need to be stuck down here for weeks to get a dose high enough for your core to fail and mutation to occur. You would be long dead from lack of food and water or... something much more abrupt by that time." The knights quickly pulled themselves together and marched down the corridor with the Harken and Rynheart in the centre. Death by conventional magic or by the sword was one thing, turning into a mutant was something completely different, and every single one of them wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible before heading to the Sacred Temple''s church for purification. Once they reached the end of the corridor, the two leading men entered the room, making sure there was no immediate danger before giving the signal for the others to come through and positioning themselves on either side of the door. Not even five steps into the room, Harken came to an abrupt halt as his eyes widened and he became momentarily struck dumb at the scene in front of him. Dark, menacing, red light leaked out of blood crystals hammered into sides, barely illuminating the circular cavern, its walls showing the telltale smoothness of the earth magic that was used to carve it out of solid rock. On the left side of the room, a faint yellow glow, in the shape of a semi-circle indicated the position of the transportation array in which the summoned would be teleported back to the capital. Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! The silhouettes of people rushing about in the blood light were horrifying enough, but even that was overshadowed by what stood in the middle of the room, where what could only be described as a thick, pitch black doorframe, seemingly absorbing every ounce of light that dared to touch it, oozed bloodlust and malice. A black fuzziness disrupted its outline, making it impossible to tell its exact shape, continuously moving and contorting as if it were alive and responding to those working around it. "Impressive isn''t it?" A grey-robed mage walked over and slightly bowed towards Harken before nodding at the general. "I don''t know, or want to know where you got the schematics for such a ritual, but I must once again warn you that this is extremely dangerous, and if anything goes wrong, half of Vonai, let alone this mountain could be vaporised in an instant." Concern flicked across Harken''s eyes. "What are the chances of that happening? Anything above 1% and we stop now." The grey-robed man coldly laughed. "I have not been a mage for two hundred years for nothing. There is a 0.01% chance of epic failure, the worst case scenario, 0.5% of a standard one probably resulting in the destruction of this mountain and 10% of an anomaly, though that should only affect the souls summoned or their generated bodies." The mage continued after wetting his cracked lips with his tongue. "While the body is forming around the soul, it will be able to utilise its full spirit power while retaining all of its memories. Once the body is formed, it will forget everything and be just like a newborn of whatever species best suits the soul''s persona... well, apart from being in the body of an eight-year-old who has never used their muscles and probably has insanely high magical affinities and large mana cores." Harken scowled. "Why did you bother mentioning the first bit then? Also, I have the feeling the second part is where your real warning is. Are you saying that we need to be extra careful until the summoned''s body has been completely formed? What if one goes berserk during the process? Should we kill them?" ================================ Thanks for reading, I am currently on holiday with the missus, totally not writing chapters for BOM:Summoned.... Nope, this is all a figure of everyone''s imaginations. This chapter has not been PR/Edited yet so I expect there will be a fair few mistakes. (Will update as soon as it is/I notice anything wrong). I am still ''trying'' to stick to the 16th of Oct as the official start but expect to fall off the waggon at least until the end of the Summoned arc (Mainly because I am struggling with all the potential of the second arc. Too many ideas. Thanks for all the comments and support :) Number 1 AA(Authors anonymous) attendee, Skada General Information Document BOM:Summoned - Summoning - Chapter 2.2 The mage darkly chuckled as he shook his head and pulled down his cowl, revealing a gaunt, weathered face, sporting a short, white beard. "I wanted to test your resolve and priorities, young king. I am not going to die for someone who puts his greed and ambition before his people. Lucky for Vonai, you passed... barely." Rynheart gritted his teeth, restraining the urge to reprimand the mage for acting so haughty, especially to one who is supposed to be his king. "Anyway," continued the mage, obviously enjoying Rynheart''s reaction. "I wouldn''t worry about souls berserking; we are targeting those that have only existed for less than eighty years. For a soul to manifest or use any of its abilities, it would need to be at least a mid-level old soul, around seven hundred and fifty years old, and even then it would be too weak to do any of us harm." The old man''s face suddenly turned serious. "Also, do not attempt to kill any of the summoned, especially in this room. Not only could it cause a magical backlash that would wipe us from the face of this planet, but it would inform the God of Death to what we have done, and that, your majesty, is something I would like to avoid until I am very, very far away. This ritual is really going to mess up the balance, and if you put any stock into the words of priests and holy men, Death is a bit of a nitpicker when it comes to keeping things... even." After watching Harken''s eyes for a few moments, making sure that he had paid attention to his instructions and, more importantly, his warning, the mage walked over to a wooden barrel near the entrance and picked up a large, white crystal before heading towards the other end of the room. As he passed, he paused briefly, asking another question, this time, his voice carrying a hint of disdain. "By the way, why is the Grand Mage of Hellfire not here? Seems unlike him to miss an opportunity to stick his nose where it is not wanted." Harken''s gaze once again returned to the imposing black doorframe. "He was ordered to the Federation''s Capital, Frakan, and due to the oaths he has sworn, I would not force him to pick between Vonai and the Mage Council. If they ever got word of this and demanded an explanation, it could end badly for us all. The mage huffed, muttering something inaudible, and walked around the summoning portal to a single pedestal, avoiding the many runes and spell formations carved into the floor, each faintly throbbing with varying colours of light. The magic formations were concentrated around fifty or so large jars, evenly spaced around the perimeter of the summoning portal. Most were filled with what appeared to be the blood of various creatures or decaying body parts, however, there were a few that were completely unidentifiable. Only the occasional white bone or flesh-looking solid indicated that they were once from a living being. "I hope they have been semi-selective in what ''ingredients'' they provided," said Rynheart as he followed Harken''s gaze towards the jars. "The last thing we want is to bring a Nephilim or Titan back into the world." A wicked smile crept upon his face. "Although I bet that even their little fortress island in the north would not be able to save them if we did." It took a few moments for Harken to respond, as he was deep in thought, staring at the jars. "I wouldn''t worry, not only are Nephilim and Titans nothing more than legend, I have seen the list of what we can expect. All are prime or secondary tier sentient species with the most powerful being angels, devils and dragons. Due to location and size restrictions, we are actually quite restricted in what we can use, so there is no need to worry about a behemoth or kraken appearing." "Aren''t devils meant to be extinct? How did they get hold of one, even if it''s just their remains?" said Rynheart in a sceptical voice, apparently not putting much faith in the list, or restrictions, the Sun Clan had provided. Harken smiled joylessly. "Ask no questions, hear no lies, my friend. There are some things that you are better off not knowing, and I really wish I did not ask that question myself." You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.Grunting in acknowledgement and deciding to let the topic drop, Rynheart leads Harken to the edge of the room where a large stockpile of barrels stood. The pair watched in silence as mages scurried around the chamber, checking, then double checking every spell formation and groove painstakingly cut into the floor for the smallest of imperfections. While the mages were doing this, the knights were trying to keep out of the way but still remain within a reasonable distance to respond to any threat. Eventually, the movement in the room began to die down, and Harken kept feeling nervous glances in his direction as people awaited his command. His eyes heavy with an equal measure of sadness and determination, Harken let out a deep sigh before moving towards a group on the opposite side of the room that he had purposely been avoiding. Thirty-two knights stood behind an equal number of bound prisoners, blindfolded and gagged, kneeling on the floor, many of them shaking in fear. "I guess we should get started." Rynheart separated from Harken and walked towards the wall where the semi-circle of yellow runes had been embedded into the stone. A small, skinny mage was standing next to it, filling five large holes with crystals of varying sizes, that were glowing in a multitude of colours, in a very particular order. "Everything checked and ready?" The mage seemed to flinch at Rynheart''s words, his face hidden by his cowl like many of his brethren. "Yes, of course. We have checked and double checked. I have been through the portal twice now and have seen the royal courtyard for myself as well as the small army you have stationed there. There it no way for the Su... ''them'' to tamper with this array and redirect it to anywhere else." Raising an eyebrow, Rynheart leant in. "We are not talking about your run of the mill, country bumpkin mages here, we are talking about the Sun Clan; they have access to knowledge from the old continent and the resources to back it up. Just look at the contraption they have us using. I am surprised we have not been labelled as heretics that threaten the safety of the world and the Sacred Temples isn''t launching an inquisition as we speak." The mage patted down his top and straightened up. "We are not your average mages either... General. Once I have set the exchange deposits, you can go through and test it yourself, we have enough crystals for forty transfers so if you''re not willing to trust me, why don''t you try it yourself?" "I guess that each crystal deposit represents a transfer? One for each individual?" muttered Rynheart, inspecting the formation without really understanding it in the slightest, but wanting to change the direction of the conversation. "How frivolous. Each one must hold enough crystals to buy and fund a small army for a year." "Oh, how perceptive of the mighty General Rynheart. Thinking of becoming an adept or merchant?" the mage replied coldly. "Do me a favour and shut up. Talking like that will give our father a heart attack and I already have to live with his disdain for my life choices." Rynheart slapped the man''s shoulder in a familiar way. "Still carrying that chip on your shoulder I see... don''t worry, little brother, today''s glory is all yours. I am just here to make sure you don''t fuck it up." Rynheart laughed, but before his brother could respond, Harken had stopped pacing in front of the kneeling prisoners, and spoke out in a powerful, commanding voice, sending the room into silence. "First I must apologise for your treatment and for what is about to happen. It is probably little consolation, but your sacrifices will ensure the prosperity and continuation of Vonai and, as its ruler, I thank you from the bottom of my heart on behalf of all of my people." Upon hearing his words, the bound prisoners began struggling frantically, their worst fears, that they would be used in some sort of magical ritual, confirmed by a voice many of them recognised. A deep breath escaped the King as he straightened his back and spoke in a solemn voice. "If everyone is ready... let''s begin." ======== Thanks for reading. BOM:Summoned - Summoning - Chapter 3.1 The room exploded into action at Harken''s command. Twenty knights took position around the summoning portal, an equal distance from each other, and got into defensive stances. Standing behind them, mages, laden with mana restoration potions, were covered by the knights'' impressive tower shields, glistening with various protective spells. After checking that everyone was in position, the grey-robed mage, who had been talking with Harken earlier, tentatively approached the pedestal and placed the large, white crystal on it, causing the red light that was illuminating the room to flicker momentarily as the crystal ominously started to glow. After fiddling with the position of the crystal, the mage took a deep breath and started chanting in an ancient, long forgotten language. The other mages quickly followed his lead, their deep, otherworldly voices joining his, causing the air to shimmer and visibly thicken as mana began to concentrate around them, making it increasingly difficult to breathe. Harken solemnly looked at the knight who was closest to the summoning portal, restraining a struggling woman, and gestured with his hand. The knight hauled the violently shaking woman to her feet, tearing the hem of her noble-looking dress, and proceeded to push her towards an open space with deep grooves cut into the floor in a pentagram-like shape. As the woman passed Harken, he could faintly hear her muffled sobs, causing his face to significantly darken as he hardened his heart for what was to come. The pentagram lit up in an eerie light as the pair stepped onto it. When they reached the centre, the knight stopped pushing the woman, allowing her fall to her knees as her legs buckled from fear. She quickly tried to scramble away, only to be stopped as the man grabbed her long, golden hair and painfully lifted her back into a kneeling position in the centre. With an unreadable expression, mainly due to the helmet he was wearing and the poor light, the knight turned his head towards Harken as a squire, no more than sixteen years of age, stepped forward with a pale face, shakily holding a long, vicious-looking dagger. With as much resolve as he could muster, Harken gave a single, resolute nod and the knight took the slender, curved blade and steadily brought it to the woman''s neck. Feeling the cold metal blade pressed against her skin, the woman gave one last valiant attempt to break free. Her chest heaved as she tried to scream and fight her fate, but as the knife was brutally pulled across her throat, her movements became erratic before her body finally sagged and fell limply to the floor, her blood spilling out around her. "May the gods have mercy on her soul," muttered Harken as he watched the entire process without blinking. "And may they forgive mine for what is about to happen." The knight quickly stepped back and out of the circle as the blood expanded around the woman''s corpse. Suddenly, the blood began to behave strangely, and, as if it were alive, started to unnaturally flow towards the grooves carved into the ground before heading towards the sides of the summoning portal. Instead of stopping when it reached the misty, black edges, the blood was sucked upwards, revealing frightening, jagged runes that were previously invisible, making the door seem even more intimidating and sinister. As everyone''s eyes were glued to the blood runes, slowly flickering to life on the door, a stream of white light shot from the white crystal on the pedestal, went through the door and hit the woman''s corpse causing it to slightly slide back from the impact. After a few moments, a small, grey orb drifted out of the corpse and began floating towards the summoning portal, seemingly drawn towards the light. Just as the orb was half way through the door frame, the white light weakened, only to be consumed by black bolts of lightning erupting from the bright, blood red runes on the sides. The bolts slammed into the soul, tearing it to pieces in a matter of moments and generating a high-pitched, genderless wail of agony that could be clearly heard above the chanting. Along with the wail, the orb vanished from existence, leaving behind a tiny black hole no bigger than a man''s fist. "This thing destroys souls? Not even the gods have that kind of power... What the hell are you thinking?" hissed Rynheart in a low, threatening voice as he rejoined Harken, his eyes wide with shock. Harken replied without taking his eyes off the ritual. "Summoning a soul can only be done if there is enough space. This typically happens when a soul transcends to the next realm but seeing as we can''t wait for that, we have to emulate the process as best as we can." Rynheart ground his teeth. "Emulate? We are destroying a soul. There is no way the gods will ever allow this to go unpunished." Harken was not phased by Rynheart''s protests. "We need the energy gained by the destruction of the soul to create the dimensional rift, replacing it with a summoned one. I didn''t say it earlier, but that old soul mage, Antek is partially right. If we kill a summoned here, we must destroy the soul and summon another immediately. If done right, the gods will never know." The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. Rynheart spat on the floor. "I take it back, a civil war would be less disastrous than risking the wrath of the gods. If we fail..." "We will not fail," interrupted Harken. Rynheart was about to respond when a much brighter, light grey orb, about twice the size of the original started to emerge from the black hole. "Fuck, I hate knowing the details after it''s too late... Your father would be spinning in his grave if he knew what we were doing." When the summoned soul was completely through, the black hole screeched as it folded in on itself and disappeared, causing a bone-shaking rumble to emanate outwards and dust to fall from the cavern ceiling. One of the jars of blood appeared to be boiling as some of its contents leaked over the rim, falling into a deep groove leading to the centre of the doorway. Unlike the woman''s blood, the blood that had been contained in the jar pooled under the summoned soul before floating upwards, circling the grey orb majestically, if not a little gruesomely. Rynheart leant towards Harken. ¡°I have a bad feeling about this, the moment something goes wrong, you use that jump crystal and get out of here, or I personally will kick your arse all the way to the capital after breaking every bone in your body.¡± The prince laughed nervously, but not a hint of humour or jest appeared on Rynheart¡¯s face. The blood congealed around the soul, forming a tiny skeleton with horns, no bigger than a human heart. The bones then began to grow at a tremendous rate, until they reached the size comparable with that of an average, eight-year-old child. When the blood-red bones were fully formed, they slowly turned white as bolts of black lightning once again discharged from the door frame, causing the air to crackle as it licked the surface of the bones. Instead of destroying the bones, as it had done with the woman''s soul, wherever the bolts landed small blood vessels and tissue started to form and grow, expanding rapidly, quickly covering most of the skeleton. The speed of the process gradually increased, causing the runes on the gate to dim as they slowly ran out of the life energy gained from the woman''s blood. Not even five minutes later, everyone was still watching with dumb expressions. A slow-beating heart and working lungs were clearly visible as the muscle and flesh began to cover them. It was at this point where the teeth and eyes started to form, and the first traces of skin could be seen on the newly created body''s feet. It was a further five minutes before the fully formed body of a young girl with jade-white skin floated from the portal as the last of the red runes faded back into the black mist. The girl slowly drifted forward out of the doorway before delicately landing on the floor. The demoness''s bright red eyes, glowed in the dim light as they darted about, trying to work out what was going on as her long, whip-like tail wiggled, the small, triangular tip too heavy to be lifted entirely off the ground. It was at this point that Harken realised he had been holding his breath and let out a relieved sigh. "The first one is a success, and we managed to get a pure, stage two demoness." "That''s if the Sun Clan doesn''t claim her. Owning a pure demon is something anyone with ambition would want due to their ability to command and control the lesser demons. Instant, expendable army¡­ if you can find the demons,¡± muttered Rynheart. Immediately the young squire who had handed the dagger to the knight moved forward with a large silver collar in his hands. The demoness hissed threateningly, causing the boy to hesitate briefly but not out of fear, he was temporarily stunned by the beautiful, glowing red eyes of the demoness before flashing her a quick, reassuring smile. The smile seemed to disarm the demoness, enabling the boy to approach and gently put the collar around her neck, closing it with a loud clank, without her putting up any resistance. The moment the collar fastened around the demonesses neck, the knight who has slit the woman¡¯s throat stepped forward, pushing the squire out of the way. ¡°Move it, boy, this is no place to be flirting with a demon.¡± ===================== Thanks for reading, For those waiting for the MC, not long now, Only another segment (or two) 3.2/3.3. Huge thanks as always, to Solfyr for the helping get this chapter ready for release (And some awesome ideas!). I also wanted to give a special (and massive) thank you to hamisun for all his help with grammar/sentence structure, hopefully, I haven''t made your eyes bleed too much with this chapter (there were a few spots I really wasn''t sure on). Really appreciate you taking the time to help and comment. BOM:Summoned - Summoning - Chapter 3.2 As the squire staggered backwards, trying to regain his balance, the knight stepped forward intimidatingly, causing the demoness to hiss as she attempted to back away. Without a moment''s hesitation, the knight backhanded her with his plate gauntlet, knocking her unconscious and sending her sliding across the floor. After ensuring that she was unconscious, by giving her a few not so gentle kicks, the knight lifted her up by the silver collar and turned around, holding her at arm''s length, as if expecting the demoness to wake up and attack him at any moment. "Capture successful. Demoness, second stage." The moment the words left his mouth, a small cheer erupted from the surrounding knights, while the mages, who had stopped their chanting, immediately pulled out bottles of dark blue liquid and began downing them as they massaged their sore throats. Even though this was only the first summoning, all of them were showing the early signs of fatigue, having to catch their breath and wipe sweat from their faces. ¡°Make sure she is secured and move her to the transportation array,¡± commanded Harken, relief at their first success evident on his face. ¡°However, do not injure them more than necessary, they may have an intimidating heritage, but they are weaker than a newborn elf. Without the residual power from the ritual, they wouldn''t even be able to breathe easily, let alone move.¡± After handing the demoness to two knights, who promptly shackled her legs and arms before carrying her over dimly glowing, yellow array, the knight stomped over to the young squire that had placed the collar on her neck. ¡°James, get your act together. The collars only work if the slave can understand the command and, to make matters worse, that was a bloody demon. You''re going to get yourself killed.¡± A few of the other knights chuckled at this, causing the atmosphere to significantly lighten, but Rynheart only shook his head and leant towards Harken. ¡°He has a point you know. A demon is a demon, and that is not even the worst that could come out of that damn device. A commander shouldn''t let his men get too complacent, it will get them killed.¡± Harken¡¯s smile faded. ¡°I guess you are right, old friend, but we can''t have them getting too heavy handed either. From the small amount of information the Sun Council provided, due to their soul''s unique nature and the dimension they existed in before, the summoned will learn and grow at a phenomenal rate. We don''t want to make things harder for ourselves in the long run by turning them against us." ¡°Great, not only do they have the potential to become some of the strongest beings in Acoria, but they could have the intelligence to match,¡± sighed Rynheart. ¡°You know the slave collars are not perfect, there are ways to get around most of the restrictions, especially if you have the physical and mental fortitude to withstand the initial pain. We should just get them bound to a demonic pact and be done with it." "And where are you going to find this high ranking demon? Are you volunteering to lead an expedition into the Demonic Plains and capture one? Until today I have never seen one in the flesh, only heard about them from the court''s battlemages or in stories intended to scare children into obedience." Harken''s voice was much harsher than he intended. "Sorry, I understand and share your concerns, but we have to work with what we have. With any luck, and if the Sun Clan does not claim her, this demoness will evolve along the noble variant branch, and we will be able to use her for pacts. Until then, we will just have to treat the collars as an uncertain fail-safe and be extra careful with how we handle the summoned while ensuring they bond with their trainers and the other combat slaves." "Your sisters have been on about that anti-slavery, equal rights nonsense again haven''t they? You really need to stop pandering to their wants; you''re a king now," huffed Rynheart. ¡°A wise king should be willing to take council from even the oddest of advisers,¡± responded Harken. ¡°Times are changing, and the inflexibility of my father is one of the reasons why we have been forced into this... predicament.¡± Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. On the opposite side of the room, after making sure that no one was paying any attention, an older looking boy approached James and revealed a mischievous smile. "Hey, Mr. Lovestruck, that was utterly pathetic. I can''t tell what is sadder, the fact that your first love isn''t even a day old, or that she belongs to a species that could rip your heart out in the time it would take you to blink.¡± "Why don''t you go back to chatting up three-hundred-year-old elves with great grandchildren old enough to be your father instead of criticising others?" sulked James, still upset about the scolding he received from his master. The boy stealthily elbowed James to the side. "That only happened once and you know you would have done the same; She had the cutest ears I have ever seen and legs to die for." "You nearly did," chuckled James as he gave a quick elbow back. "Sexy, experienced and an army of ex-lovers and jealous, overly protective partners. Anyway, get your mind out the gutter. Can''t we have a single conversation that doesn''t revolve around women or your bestial urges?" Rubbing where James'' elbow had landed, the other squire faked a hurt expression. ¡°What do you want to talk about instead? Swords? Magic? What about farming? God, you''re sixteen, not six; grow up and listen to your hormones.¡± The two squires continued their quiet banter as Harken¡¯s gaze flickered across the room, ensuring that everyone was ready. ¡°Let''s get a move on, we have thirty-one more to go, and only a single night to get it done." Meanwhile, outside on the seemingly peaceful mountainside, the chilling light of two moons intermingled, bathing the ground in their icy glow as two battlemages stood in the midst of over ninety knights, guarding the summoning rituals entrance. After several hours had passed, the majority of the soldiers, which happened to be the sons of high-ranking nobles, who had forced their way onto the king''s honour guard, were standing around the small sentry fires trying to stay awake by making idle chatter. Only a dozen or so men, including the battlemages, sought to keep their vigilance, but the causal conversations and peaceful, unchanging scenery was gradually dulling their senses. The two battlemages were dressed in a mixture of robes and plate armour, displaying their ability to use magic and fight in close quarters combat. They had just finished a discussion on the fundamentals of earth magic, mainly to keep themselves awake before once again returning to the topic they were most curious about. The man closest to the entrance appeared to stretch lazily. However, his eyes maintained a sharp look as they habitually surveyed the surroundings, watching for the slightest hint of danger. ¡°Why the hell do they have us guarding this damn hole in the ground anyway? I wonder if they found some sort of artefact from before the Great Cataclysm?¡± ¡°Shhh,¡± cautioned the other battle mage. ¡°Most of the guards here are nobles looking to curry favour with our new king. Don''t want to give the pipsqueaks a reason to try and use us as a stepping stone. If we were meant to know, we would have been told.¡± A gentle breeze floated down from the mountain and, as it passed by the sentry fires, if one were paying enough attention, they would be able to see a strange, green hint to the air. "Hah, if you randomly picked a hundred children, most of them you could train into knights, maybe three or four could become mages and maybe, maybe... one would become a battlemage. We¡¯re too valuable to the kingdom to be discredited by pathetic noble welps, fresh from their mother''s skirt. We''re practically untouchable," laughed the first battlemage, drawing a few annoyed looks from the surrounding knights. On the slope above them, a hundred meters from the closest guard, five shadowy figures crouched low to the floor, swaying in perfect sync with the breeze as their cold, merciless eyes watched the men below. ========================= Thanks for reading. Hope you enjoy and thanks for all the comments ::) BOM:Summoned - Summoning - Chapter 3.3 A cold breeze blew past the five shadowy figures, causing their cloaks to ruffle as they observed the guards below. Due to their rough, black cloaks and the eerie, bone-white masks that the group were wearing, it was nearly impossible to differentiate between them, with one exception. While four of the figures were obviously female, due to their feminine body shape, one of them extremely masculine and heavyset, distinguishing him as the only male in the group. The plain, unadorned masks they were wearing were virtually identical, the only difference being the placement of the eye slits, and were almost perfectly covered by their cowls, stopping the moonlight from reflecting and giving away their position. The night continued to drag on, and it wasn''t long before the two moons slowly began their graceful descent towards the horizon. During this time, instead of being idle, the group, who looked like nothing more than small, unobtrusive boulders as they crouched on the sparse mountainside, watched the knights like hawks, making a note of their every movement and interaction. While they were doing this, they were also periodically releasing small amounts of dark green powder into the wind, letting it naturally blow downhill and towards the unsuspecting soldiers. Having long since run out of any meaningful or even frivolous topics to talk about, the soldiers were now huddling in small groups around the sentry fires in silence, trying their hardest not to succumb to the sweet temptation that was sleep. Even if they did not care about the huge dishonour that would befall their families if they were to fall asleep on duty, it was also a capital offence that would result in their execution, causing the knights to try every trick they knew to keep themselves awake. However, even to a passing, unrelated bystander, it was clear that they were losing that battle as many of their heads had already begun nodding. The consequences, coupled with their pride, meant that even though everyone was feeling the same strange, overwhelming fatigue, no one mentioned it, or even had their wits about them to notice the drastic change in their comrade''s behaviour. If they had, then they might have realised that something was wrong and been able to prepare some form of resistance against what was to come. In the centre of the encampment, one of the men finally gave in and slumped down, with his back against a large boulder, quickly falling asleep and earning a look of utter disgust from the nearby battlemages, who promptly moved away and begun muttering to each other while subtly rubbing their eyes. On the hill, the knight¡¯s action caused a flurry of hand signals before three of the cloaked figures separated, positioning themselves along the ridge at even intervals. The two remaining, the man and a tall, slender woman, took the bows from their backs and nocked extremely thin, vicious-looking metallic arrows. The male bowman hesitated for a moment, before retrieving a gold coin from a hidden pocket and placing it carefully on top of a small stone in front of him before making a hand signal that represented nineteen. Seeing his action, the coldness in the woman''s vivid green, reptilian eyes was momentarily replaced with a mild playfulness as she withdrew her own gold coin and placed it on top of the other. The pair¡¯s eyes met, and they started tapping their feet in rhythm. On the tenth tap, they leant backwards and pointed the arrows almost vertically into the sky before releasing them. The entire process was so fast, that if anyone were watching, they would only be able to see a faint blur, as less than half a second later, the last of the twenty arrows had already disappeared out of sight. In a single, sweeping motion the pair shouldered their bows and drew their slim, jagged swords, the woman effortlessly pocketing the coins while the man disappointedly shook his head, before joining their comrades that were already descending the slope at an unbelievable speed. As the group silently charged down the mountain, the knights started to stagger and fall to the ground unconscious. Although it had only been a couple of seconds, by the time the cloaked figures reached the first sentry fire, the bulk of the soldiers were incapacitated with only nineteen men remaining on their feet. These were the ones who, through combat and various trials, had developed the subconscious habit of always circulating their mana, but the effects of the sedative were still remarkably strong, leaving them lax and as yet, unaware of the danger that was rapidly approaching them. At last, realisation sparked in their eyes as they finally noticed their comrades and understood that they were under attack, however even as they began to sluggishly reach for their weapons or, in the case of the battlemages, begin to chant defensive spells, a barrage of arrows rained down, killing them instantly. The weakest point for a mage, and one that is often exploited, is the blind spot found directly above their heads, and battlemages were no exception. Without their plate helmets, which still would not have saved them, being hit by the magically imbued arrows was extremely gruesome, causing their heads to explode and sending a mixture of brain and bone fragments spraying in a bloody arc around them. Not even a millisecond after the first battlemage''s head exploded, his arms were blown away from his body as his torso turned to mush after getting hit by a second, but equally devastating, arrow. In a few, short breaths of time, the five mysterious figures had completely devastated the hundred-strong group and were only just passing by the outermost sentry fires, dispatching the sleeping knights with a single, merciful strike to the heart. In all of Acoria, there was only one group that could pull off this kind of jaw-dropping feat, and that was the Huntsmen. An elite group of outcasts ¨C lead by the infamous Silver Wolf, also unofficially known as the Bloodhound ¨C who were no less intimidating or influential than the Sun Clan. Where the Sun Clan specialised in information and assassination, the Huntsmen specialised in guerrilla warfare and were known for their almost fanatical devotion to each other, making them nearly impossible to infiltrate. They were so efficient and ruthless in their missions, that their name had almost become synonymous with Death''s Reapers, causing many of the Federation''s enemies, including the Empire, to hesitate before engaging in anything that could be considered hostile. Both the Sun Clan and the Huntsmen existed in, and were contracted by, the Federation, but much to the relief of both the Empire and the Mystic Republic, the two groups were embroiled in a brutal, unrelenting blood feud in which, the moment either of them acted outside the Federation¡¯s territory, they would mercilessly attack each other on sight, ignoring everything else. After ensuring that there were no survivors and disabling the traps that were scattered around, the huntsmen gathered at the stairwell entrance, which was roughly at the centre of the defensive perimeter that Vonai''s knights had previously set up, and stared into the foreboding hole, the blue light crystals making it look like a stairway to the underworld. Sheathing her sword, one of the figures lowered her cowl, silver, predatory eyes glowing from behind her mask. "Rock, Eth, secure the perimeter and ensure there are no surprises. Kelora, set the traps and begin releasing the mandrake powder into the stairwell. Use everything we have left. If we have to breach, with the amount of mages down there, it''s not going to be pretty.¡± ¡°Yes, Captain.¡± The three immediately sprang into action, leaving the one who has spoke and a short woman staring into the entrance. Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. ¡°Verz, are you sure you want to go through with this?¡± asked the short woman in a neutral, almost disinterested tone, which belied the irritated twitching of her long, dark blue ears. ¡°They are making one hell of a racket down there and since the information came from one of the Sun Clan, how can we be sure it''s not a trap.¡± ¡°After how... persuasive we were with the Sun Clan prophet, I doubt he had the ability to lie to us,¡± replied Verz, a hint of grim satisfaction in her voice. ¡°This is the place where the unbound one will come into existence. A being that is completely invisible to the whims of fate.¡± ¡°I still don''t get how a prophet can prophesize about someone who cannot be seen by any sort of foresight or reading. Are you really sure this isn''t just a trap?¡± huffed the woman. Verz shook her head, her silver eyes scanning the area. ¡°I swear to the God of Truth, if I did not love you so much, I would be beating you to death for repeating that damn question so many times. The prophet did not see the person, just the hole they make.¡± Looking over at the woman and noticing the confused look in her deep, blue eyes, Verz let out a deep breath. ¡°How can you tell if a bloodfeather is circling you on a clear night?¡± The woman kicked a stone, irritated Verz had gone into lecture mode. ¡°You look for the only place you can''t see the stars.¡± "And that is how you can roughly foresee the presence of an unbound. The Sun Clan''s plan is to summon these unnatural beings in order to gain the upper hand in their private war with us, but, just as the prophet was about to die, he started screaming about an unbound that would appear and how he could no longer see certain parts of the Sun Clans future.¡± ¡°So why are we going to such great lengths to secure it? Surely now we are here you can tell me?¡± said the woman. ¡°Because we are slowly losing this war due to the Sun Clan''s ability to vaguely understand the future and avoid any situations where we can put them on the back foot. Luckily for us, the moment a prophecy is revealed, the future changes due to the small deviations from those that know about it, and the uncountable amount of predictions that are made each day, interfering with each other. Now imagine if we had someone who was completely invisible to, not only seer''s, but even the gods. It would give us an unprecedented advantage,¡° responded Verz dryly, as if she who had spoken the same words over a thousand times already. The short woman was not happy with the answer. ¡°Wouldn''t they just look for the ¡®holes¡¯ like the prophet?¡± Verz''s voice turned hard as she struggled to mask her annoyance, making it clear that she was almost done with the topic. ¡°The clarity needed to see the ''holes'' only happens once, and that is when the seers fate is set and they will die no matter what. We were just lucky the future was set with enough time for him to tell us, as well as being focused on this particular event. Normally, due to the potential of magic, they only have the epiphany in their dying breaths and are unable to tell anyone.¡± After emptying a few sachets of powder onto the floor in front of the entrance, Kelora, the woman that had gone to the entrance, stood up and cocked her head. Her red, alluring eyes shining mischievously. ¡°An unbound entity just like the Devil of Calamity¡­ I can¡¯t wait to meet them, but,¡± she paused for a moment, ¡°what if they are sympathetic to the Sun Clan?¡± Verz¡¯s gaze immediately sharpened. ¡°Then we will kill them, and just because of the inconvenience, we make an example of the Vonai royal family for working with the Sun Clan.¡± The red eyed woman quietly chuckled as she perched to the side of the entrance. ¡°Not even a shred of mercy. If this were the Demonic Plains, you would probably drown in an ocean of blood as every noble demon and Lord of Sin tried to win your favour¡­ hell, that merciless streak even turns me on a bit, and I don''t swing that way. Rock, what do you think?¡± The large man had just returned and was scratching his head as his brain tried to make sense of the small amount of conversation he had overheard. "Well, you get turned on when you stub your toe so that''s hardly an achievement. If I had not seen your status stone, I would have lost a fair amount money on betting you were a lust demon." "What can I say," said Kelora in an amused voice that turned more seductive as she spoke. "My mother was a succubus and my father, the demon lord of lust. It probably rubbed off on me." ¡°One more word and you two will be training the adepts for the next six years,¡± growled Verz, becoming irritated at how off topic they had become. ¡°Even if we are dealing with these pathetic puppets of the Sun Clan, we are still on a mission.¡± The pair looked away from Verz and towards the short woman, sighing at the unfair treatment, and began to silently prepare to head into the mountain, removing their bows and ensuring the multitude of weapons hanging off their leather armour was clear of their cloaks. After a few minutes, Verz¡¯s partner spoke, her voice slightly shaky. ¡°Verz¡­ something is seriously wrong. It''s as if a mana well just appeared under our feet. The energy... it''s unbelievable.¡± Not even a second after she finished speaking, a malevolent, tyrannical aura gushed from the entrance; the sheer blood-lust and unrestrained fury causing the huntsmen to instinctively fall back and draw their weapons, a tinge of fear gnawing at their insides. Verz quickly pulled out a small, black plate from her pocket. "Display Trait, Trained Foresight."
Trained Foresight (Combined with the trait: Natural Instincts)
You are under the effect of a powerful negative aura creating a sense of dread and affecting your ability to think clearly. Due to the vast difference in strength, the effects have been reduced by 95%
After glancing over the status effects, she returned it to her pocket. ¡°Just what in the hell have they created down there? Trust the Sun Clan to fuck something up so spectacularly. They couldn''t even organise a coming of age ceremony for a dogkin in a whore house.¡± Rock shifted on the spot, before glancing at his companions. ¡°Anyone want to bet on-¡± ¡°NO!¡± replied the four women in unison, each briefly giving Rock a look of disgust before returning their attention to the dark entrance. Verz¡¯s ice-cold voice made Rock shudder. ¡°Your venial sin seems to be becoming a bit of a problem, Rock. When we get back to base, we will have to look at that.¡± ¡°That and you suck at gambling,¡± jeered Kelora. ¡°It¡¯s like you''re always cursed to lose; no one wants to be on your side of a bet.¡± ================================= Thanks for reading and hope you enjoy the extra long chapter. I know a lot of you were getting impatient for the ''birth'' of Mors. Currently, I am debating to do a chapter segment on what happened in the summoning room OR to jump straight into Mors meets Huntsmen (If you read ''The Summoned'' think Pathfinders with a bit more history and a different name.) Let me know what you guys think in the comments. My eyes are demanding to be closed so I apologise for any mistakes/PR fails! *Edit: Fixed the weird issue with that length (details of post). Seems it was some markup in the post (probally when I was playing with the table. Had to cut it into notepad and drop it back in to fix it (incase anyone has that issue) BOM:Summoned - Summoning - Chapter 4.1 Inside the ritual room, ten minutes before the huntsmen launched their surprise attack, Harken was reviewing the list of summoned. As he steadily worked his way down the crudely drawn table, a huge grin began to creep onto his face. "It¡¯s a shame we cannot bind a status stone to them here and confirm their heritage, skills and traits. Although most are pretty obvious, like that goblin imp over there, a few like the lamia hybrid are a complete mystery.¡±
Race Count
Angel 2
Demon 3
Beastkin 4
Fairy 3
Elemental 2
Dragon 2
Lamia 1
Elf 2
Dark Elf 4
Vampire 3
Human 4
Haunt 1
Excitement shimmered in Harken''s eyes, accompanying the ever growing smile, as they quickly skimmed over the list for the fifth time, making sure he wasn''t dreaming. "Rynheart, some of these are incredible. If I had not witnessed it myself, I wouldn''t believe it." Rynheart distractedly grunted as Harken continued. "There hasn''t been a confirmed dragon sighting in over three hundred years, yet we have two of them back at the palace in Alzor. Not only that, but we have three vampires, two angels and a haunt. Even when the Sun Clan claims their five summoned, the remaining twenty-seven are still earth shaking creatures, and that is not taking into consideration the benefits they will gain from having summoned souls. If we do this right, we can unify the Basin and secure humanity''s future."If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. "This doesn''t make sense." Rynheart took a deep, steadying breath as he surveyed the room. He had never been entirely comfortable with the ritual, but for some reason, suddenly his insides were wracked by an ominous, foreboding feeling which, for someone of his nature and experience, usually indicated that something was about to go seriously wrong. "Gaining creatures of this calibre and at such a young, impressionable age, is beyond priceless, yet the Sun Clan are not here to secure their investment. We are sending the summoned back to the capital in batches of five when we could have just brought the divisions guarding the portal up to the mountain with the excuse of training exercises and taken them back to Alzor without spending such an enormous fortune. It''s as if they are expecting something or someone to disrupt the ritual and need to damage control," muttered Rynheart to no one in particular. Even though there was still one more summoning to complete, Harken was in a celebratory mood and waved off his friends concerns. "I know you are usually right, but you are overthinking this. The Sun Clan has the best seers on the continent and would know if something was going to happen." Rynheart did not look convinced. "So where are they? And what about the Huntsmen?" "While I agree the Huntsmen are the only ones that have the ability to challenge the Sun Clan, from what I have heard, they are too busy putting down a corruption outbreak in the the Unclaimed Highlands on the Federation''s orders. They are not the omnipotent, ever present wraiths that everyone makes them out to be," replied Harken in a matter of fact voice. Rynheart glared at Harken. "So the organisation that has existed for less than seventy-five years yet is feared by all, has never been known to fail a mission, comprised of elite forces renowned for their ruthless, terror-inducing tactics and, since its creation, has been in open conflict with the Sun Clan that you revere so much, are not worthy of your concern?" "You''re beginning to sound like my father." Harken shifted his weight to relieve some of the pressure on his sore feet. "That''s because your father was a wise king, unlike a little trouble maker I know... It''s the unknown or unlikely that catch out seasoned veterans and recruits alike, especially those who think they have seen or know it all," grumbled Rynheart as he folded his arms awkwardly over his heavy, black armour and looked around the room. Everyone, knight and mage alike, was either leaning against the walls or slumped onto the floor in exhaustion. The ritual had been both physically and mentally taxing, and the group was running on fumes. ¡°Dragging this out any longer is just going to make my nerves bad and create more chances for something to go wrong.¡± Rynheart stepped forward causing a metallic echo to resonate outwards, gaining everyone''s attention. ¡°Right lads, let¡¯s get this abomination over with so we can head home and drown ourselves in ale and whores, forgetting this ever happened.¡± During the course of the night, most of the soldiers had removed their helmets, mainly because of the temperature and weight, revealing a huge variety of skin colour and an even division of gender. Due to the great variety of races in Accoria and the constant conflict between them, racism and sexism were almost non-existent amongst members of the same species. Discrimination, however, was an entirely different matter with a huge distinction between the wealthy nobles and the lower classes. This was mainly due to Accoian societies being focused on strength, skill and magical prowess, which was usually hereditary, especially with the sentient monster races. A collective groan rose up as the knights and mages hauled themselves to their feet and trudged to their positions. After a couple of minutes, the clamour died down, and the final summoning finally began as the mages started to chant, their voices hoarse from overuse. A brute of an old man was the last prisoner to be sacrificed, putting up a token struggle, and up until the appearance of the summoned soul, everything had gone exactly the same as the previous thirty-one times. It was at this point that everyone, except the mages, that had to continue their chanting, froze in horror. Although the soul that was drawn through the portal had a similar colour and density to the others, it was warped and stretched, as if it was caught on something in the other dimension, bending to an oval shape before turning into what could be considered a long tube. The look of horror continued to grow as everyone tried to grasp what was happening and the implications it could have. A few of the knights, who were not shielding a mage, took a few steps backwards, towards the exit. "Pull yourselves together. Everything is under control, and as long as we continue in the correct order, we will be all right." Only at the continued urging of the grey mage, Antek did everyone settle down somewhat. The renewed feeling of control and confidence they felt was short-lived. The black hole started to close before the soul had been completely summoned, causing everyone to hold their breath and offer a silent prayer to their patron gods. As the portal''s edges touched the soul, it stopped shrinking as a wail of agony screeched outwards, setting everyone''s hairs on end. As the ritual had consumed so much energy and was at a critical point, there was no way they could stop it without suffering a magical backlash that would destroy half of the mountain, if they were lucky. The majority of Vonai if they weren''t. =========================== Thanks for reading. After the earlier vote, I have decided to fall back to the previous segmented/regular release cycle with the aim of getting back to daily releases by mid-November. (The new writing style, editing/PR takes a fair amount of time). This chapter currently has three segments (the other two being in final draft/pr). For those a little confused by the 16th start date. That was when I was officially planning to start posting chapters, but... well I kind of failed on my ''break'' after The Summoned. Life has got a bit hectic with the news of twins on the way and promotions/open source projects hence my ''delayed'' estimate for return of the daily releases (and I am nowhere near good enough to do that yet :) ) Once again thanks for reading and all the comments. BOM:Summoned - Summoning - Chapter 4.2 With the possibility of failure and all that accompanied it looming over their heads, the summoners focused everything they had on the ritual, pushing past their exhaustion and giving it everything they had. The soul was agonisingly pulled through the portal and towards the centre of the door frame, looking like it was going to tear apart at any moment. Black blood, from the same jar that had previously spawned three vampires of varying heritage, began to boil over and haphazardly drift towards the soul. Slowly, small, fragile bones started to form around the soul, causing a wave of relief to ripple outwards. The formation of the body was ten times slower than that of the previous summoned, with certain parts needing to be reconstructed multiple times as they repeatedly turned to mush or were reabsorbed by the black bolts of energy. It was evident to all those present, that even if the body could be formed, the unfortunate creature would be crippled for life, having little to no chance of long term survival. The moment the muscles had formed, attaching themselves to the skeletal structure, the creatures body started to convulse and twist in, what could only be interpreted as unbearable pain. This was confirmed five minutes later when the vocal cords eventually formed, allowing the creature to release a soul-wrenching scream before spraying copious amounts of blood into the air. The joy Harken had previously shown had completely vanished, replaced with a pale, sad expression. "We need to summon a whole soul to maintain the balance, this one is snagged and, in the unlikely event that it survives, it can only have a pitiful existence. Rynheart, when the formation is complete.... kill it and throw the body into the black hole. It is the kindest thing we can to do." Rynheart nodded solemnly, knowing full well the devastating impact a damaged soul would have on one''s life, and strode forward with grim determination. When he was a few meters away from the magic array, he drew his large bastard sword and planted its tip into the floor, his face an emotionless mask as he unflinchingly watched the gruesome spectacle before him with cold, resolute eyes. After what must have seemed like an eternity for the poor soul, a small, weak looking female vampire fell limply to the floor. The girl''s blood filled screams had subsided, and now the only movement she was making was her mouth opening and closing in ragged breaths as her unfocused eyes rolled around. A small beam of grey light, that was her soul, still stretched between the rift and her body like an umbilical cord, unmercifully providing her enough power to remain conscious, but to what extent, only the gods would know. ¡°Rynheart, please. Put it out of its misery," said Harken, who had always been relatively squeamish when it came to pain, not being able to stomach the pitiful site before him. "Sometimes death is mercy, especially when you''re trapped in hell.¡±The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there. ¡°I am sorry little one, I will make it as painless as possible. Although I am the one to commit the deed, you can blame the Sun Clan for this,¡± announced Rynheart as he stepped towards the young vampire, raising his sword into the air, its point hovering menacingly over the girl. Without hesitation, Rynheart plunged his sword downwards and into the small girl''s heart, its overbearing size splitting her horizontally. Her ice-blue eyes revealed momentary shock before relief washed over them as her life was extinguished. It was extremely rare for someone of his profession, but Rynheart prided himself on never killing a child before and, although it could be considered mercy to the girl, it took him a few moments to repress the disgust he had for himself. After he had taken some calming breaths, Rynheart picked up both parts of the body, innards and copious amounts of blood spilling out, splashing over his black armour, and threw them into the portal. Even if it is a vampire, killing a newborn, especially one I have had a hand in creating and has done no wrong, is beyond repulsive. I will inevitably suffer the gods'' wrath for this. Turning his back on the doorway, not wanting to watch as it consumed the body and soul, Rynheart had only just returned to Harken when the room turned a sinister blood red as the portal''s runes erupted in a dazzling light. Everyone instinctively shielded their eyes, and the mage''s chanting was momentarily broken as the girl''s soul was irrevocably consumed, releasing a sickening wail before disappearing. After a moment of eerie silence, the portal''s light dimmed to its original, post-sacrificial state. That''s thirty-three souls I have cast into the abyss tonight, Harken lamented. Although the failure had nothing to do with him, if you did not consider the fact the whole summoning was being carried out on his orders, even if it was under duress, Harken felt the pang of regret over the last, innocent soul. The joy and excitement that had been clouding his mind gone, Harken cleared his throat. "That was one mistake too many. I know we are tired and want this over with, but let''s do this properly. We-" A wave of scorching air exploded from the black hole, interrupting Harken and dispersing the mist that had been concealing the door''s shape. The door seemed to vibrate violently before massive, thunderous cracks began appearing all over it, sending small, black shards shooting outwards, embedding into the walls or unlucky individuals that were in the way. As mage and knight alike dove for cover, black bolts of lightning flew outwards, smashing all but three of the jars. The jar''s contents flowed towards the grooves carved into the floor before racing towards the doorway and being greedily absorbed, once again causing the runes, that had only just dimmed, to glow the brightest they had all night. As the wave passed them, a cold, sinister chill crept down their spines as each person in the cave was struck with an intense feeling of dread as if they were standing in front of Death himself. Violently shivering, many of the knights backed away from the portal, cold sweat dripping down their backs, as a few of the mages collapsed to their knees. Antek¡¯s figure, who had been standing next to the pedestal, flickered before appearing at the side of Harken and Rynheart. "It''s not the worst case scenario but you two need to get out of here¡­ Now!" Pushing down the terror that threatened to overwhelm him, Harken shakily responded as he stared, wide-eyed, at the door. "Wa...What''s going on?" BOM:Summoned - Summoning - Chapter 4.3 Anteks eyes were locked onto the portal as he completely ignored Harken''s question, a mixture of curiosity and fear etched onto his face as fumbled about in his pockets. Due the the many decades of intense mental training that was required to become even the most bog-standard of adepts, some of the older mages began recovering from the terrifying aura that was emitted by the portal. Brightly coloured domes appeared around the summoning array, significantly reducing the effects of the aura as the mages started to cast spells and consume ancient, valuable-looking scrolls, turning to dust after they had exhausted their magical power. As the aura lessened, the rest of the mages managed to regain their wits and joined their companions in setting up defensive spells and formations. Rynheart''s heart lurched as he watched the mage''spanicked movements and desperate, almost forlorn expressions. His deep, commanding voice echoed outwards. "Groups one and two, form up around the king. Group three secure the entrance and make sure nothing leaves." His voice snapped the knights from their daze as their rigorous training and discipline kicked in, executing his commands without hesitation. Checking Harken and noting that he was tightly holding the dark green crystal, Rynheart started to look for his brother as his mind tried to make sense of what was happening. In all my years I have never seen something shake a mage to this extent, let alone a room full of them. Their mental strength is unparalleled, and their ability to keep calm under any amount of pressure is legendary. I need to get Harken and my brother out of here. Antek distracted Rynheart from his thoughts when he found what he was looking for, pulling out a crystal nearly identical to the one Harken was holding. Revealing a mirthless smile, he turned his head towards the two. "Ever heard the story about the boy who took a dragon''s egg, tripped on his way home and dropped it off the edge of a mountain?" The pair nodded their heads somewhat absentmindedly. Rynheart from debating whether to get Harken to use the jump stone, the transportation array, or escort him to the surface, whereas Harken was still fighting the dread that had taken hold of his heart. The story was well known in the human kingdoms, mainly because it was a legend of how the human race fell into such dire straights after being one of the most prominent species on Accoria. When the mother dragon found out about her offspring''s death, she was enraged and tried to turn the whole continent to ash. Eventually, with great sacrifice, the Kingdom of Man managed to kill the dragon and her mate, earning the hatred of the other dragons and the two species were soon locked in a bitter war. After hundreds of years, the Dragons were finally defeated, removing them from the continent, but the damage the Kindom of Man suffered was too great. Not even two decades later, when the Great Cataclysm destroyed the main continent, refugees from the other races flooded to Malthasia, overwhelming humanities still-devastated forces and eventually conquering everywhere but the Antaeth Basin. ¡°I hate it when I am right,¡± Rynheart grumbled as he clicked his fingers in front of Harken''s face, gaining his attention, finally coming to a decision. ¡°Use the crystal and go... I will bring who I can with me through the portal and order the rest to escape and seal the entrance.¡± Harken¡¯s knees almost buckled at the terror he was barely repressing. ¡°W...we can''t leave something like this; we have to stop it.¡± Another wave of hot air blasted past them as a white orb, much larger than the black hole, started forcing its way through, drawing the black bolts to it like a lightening rod.The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. The rift was too small, and soon the soul began forcefully enlarging it as it pushed its way through, releasing a bone-tingling, tearing noise as the door around it continued to crack and splinter. The face of Antek appeared to age instantly and spoke in a dead tone. ¡°Even with the summoning portal being overloaded with the blood energy of all those dominant species, whatever is forcing its way through is too powerful. When it gets through, it''s going to be impossible to stop until the portal runs dry or it strays too far. If that wasn''t bad enough, and I really hope I am wrong about this, but only an old soul would have the power to force its way through dimensions without our assistance, and it would need an incredibly compelling reason to do so." Swallowing hard, Antek continued. "Best thing for the world, but worst for us, is if the creature absorbs all the rampant energy before it explodes, but that would be impossible; for that you would need a body on par with a nep-" Antek¡¯s pupils shrunk as he saw the three remaining jars, their contents beginning to boil, indicating the body formation was about to start. ¡°Dragon, Angel, Devil¡­ No¡­ that... that''s impossible. After the Cleansing, the gods ensured those bloodlines would never be able to mix again, repelling each other at a fundamental level. Only demons were spared from the purge. This... this is absurd. Life and Death energy¡­ the power of a consumed soul¡­ a rift in dimensions¡­ chaos energy¡­ an ancient?¡± The final pieces of the puzzle finally fell into place causing the mage to spin around and smash his bare fist into Harken¡¯s hand, crushing the crystal held inside causing Harken to disappear in a green mist, his eyes still wide with surprise. Without pause; he turned towards Rynheart. ¡°GET YOUR BROTHER AND AS MANY AS YOU CAN AND GET OUT OF HERE NOW!¡± Rynheart was taken aback by the panic, bordering on madness, in Anteks voice but before he even had time to comprehend the words, what could only be described as a tyrannical, soul-shattering roar caused the room to violently vibrate, dislodging large chunks of rock from the ceiling. As people dodged the falling debris, the three remaining jars exploded with a thunderous bang, but unlike the others, where the portal absorbed their contents, the blood flew towards the pulsing, white soul before circling it, creating a mini blood hurricane in a gruesome, otherworldly spectacle. Every fibre of his being was screaming at him to get out of there as fast as he could, causing Rynheart to burst into a sprint, running towards his brother at such a speed, that the ground beneath his feet exploded into fragments. His brother was cowering on his knees with his hands blocking his ears, next to the yellow transportation array only a couple of dozen meters away. Even though he was moving at such an incredible speed that he was barely visible, Rynheart was still far too slow. The defensive shields collapsed one by one at a startling rate, causing the men around him to stare dumbfoundedly in horror. The ritual segments, which had taken dozens of minutes in the previous summonings, were being completed in mere seconds in front of them. Fully formed, eight-year-old bones appeared, seemingly out of thin air, with muscle and flesh growing at an incredible rate, weaving around each other as they gruesomely combined to form a body. The ice-white bones were nothing like the bones of the other summoned. Ignoring the fact that they were not red, they appeared to be scaled and heavily reinforced, groves and ripples running across them, resembling magical formulas while small outcrops of bone protected the areas where the muscles connected. The difference between this body and the others was startling. Ignoring the difference in appearance due to the variety of species, the body being constructed in front of them was, without a doubt, that of a predator that excelled in close quarters combat and would become a highly dangerous existence. Rynheart had taken two steps forward, his eyes widening at the speed of the body''s formation, but his heart almost stopped when hellish red eyes with black, reptilian slits locked onto him the moment they formed. At that moment Rynheart felt his soul shudder and his previously unshakable will falter, feeling like he was staring into the maw of a monstrous dragon that had come to devour him and all he held dear. All he could do was bite his cheek, the pain bringing him back to his senses, and use everything he had to try and reach the portal. The eyes were terrifying enough, but that paled in comparison to the loathing and hate that dwelled deep within them. Immediately, whether it was instinctual or by some divine grace, Rynheart understood what had happened. The meaning behind the eyes was evident, and one that he had felt far too often. It was the look you got when you killed a person that was irreplaceable to another. A look that promised eternal vengeance. The weakened soul, he thought bleakly. BOM:Summoned - Summoning - Chapter 5.1 Even though it was the dead of night, Vonai''s royal fortress, located in the heart of Alzor, was teeming with activity. At the centre of it, was a large courtyard, filled with over five hundred elite soldiers, dressed in highly polished, almost ceremonial-looking armour, surrounding a large yellow pentagram engraved into the marble floor. Conventionally the courtyard was used to greet distinguished nobles and dignitaries from distant lands, however, tonight, it was used to receive the summoned. Those who had already arrived were sitting in a cluster towards the edge of the courtyard. The thirty younglings, no two the same, were being examined and clothed by a small army of maids and green-robed figures, checking everything from their reflexes to what colour the flame was when their hair was set alight, the results often causing gasps of surprise and discreet whispers. Apart from the strange noises made from the younglings, and the murmur from those examining them, the courtyard was deathly quiet, only occasionally broken by the metallic clank of armour or the hiss from the torches. The unnerving silence abruptly ended when the yellow array suddenly glowed, causing the soldiers to spring into action and level their poleaxes towards the magical formation. An almost inaudible female voice echoed out of a highly decorated helmet, denoting her rank as a commander. "About time. I have been standing here for hours. All this trouble for a few strays." Due to the secrecy of the summoning, apart from those present at the ritual and key figures, everyone else had been informed that the kingdom had been scouting young talent to nurture and integrate into the army. The official story was so pathetic and full of holes, like why would they use a transportation array, that could only come from one place and cost an incredible fortune or why were the younglings were enslaved, that hardly anyone believed it. The idea that it was a cover story became an almost indisputable fact when two drakes, the first evolutionary stage of dragons, appeared, but due to the turmoil that had recently plagued Vonai, no one was willing to challenge the story and just rolled their eyes in amusement at the pathetic excuse. In a blinding flash of light, two robed men shot out from the array causing a few of the knights to flinch as they smashed into the floor. As the mages lay on their stomachs with laboured breaths, the soldiers closest to them stared at the long, claw-like cuts running down the back of their robes, fresh blood gushing forth. Although prepared, this was not what the soldiers had been expecting, the last six uneventful transfers being groups of younglings, and they immediately closed ranks, locking down the courtyard and prepared for an attack. Two medics rushed forward to check the status of the injured mages, confirming that they were alive but unconscious and that they had probably been thrown into the array by a third party.You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. Another blinding light was released from the array, this time, a black blur flew outwards, crashing into the floor and bouncing a few times before finally coming to a stop. Gasps of horror escape the soldiers as they recognise the figure in front of them. Blood sprayed from a missing arm, and it was immediately clear that the figure has lost his right eye due to the deep gashes running down his face. Held in the remaining arm, a gaunt-looking, extremely pale man, dressed in a blue robe, was mumbling incoherently. Pushing the mage to the side, Rynheart staggered to his feet. The realisation that it was their General, along with the severity of his injuries, caused the surrounding knights to shiver. Rynheart was a legend, not only in Vonai but also most of the world for his strength and combat prowess and the thought that he could be driven into such a miserable state was, until now, almost unthinkable. Wobbling slightly, Rynheart clamped his hand around the stub that was once his arm and muttered a weak fire spell to cauterise the wound. As he was doing this, his commanding voice rang outwards. "PREPARE TO ENGAGE THE ENEMY, SOUND THE CITY ALARM, SUMMON THE DEMON HUNTERS AND ENSURE THE KING''S SAFETY IN THE ROYAL CRYPTS. Grabbing a sword from a nearby knight, Rynheart took a fighting stance, glaring at the transportation array as if Death himself was about to appear. The grim expression on his face, one of a man preparing to make his last stand, sent the soldiers near him into a frenzy of action, surrounding him in a protective manner and issuing orders calling more troops. A few tense minutes passed in silence before Harken could be heard pushing his way through the crowd. Although he was close to losing his senses in the summoning pit, the moment he arrived in Alzor, the terror diminished significantly, seeming more like a nightmare than something that had really happened. His rush forward was stopped in its tracks when he saw Rynheart. "Ryn... General, what happened?" Without taking his eyes away from the magical array, Rynheart responded. "You should know... we summoned a fucking monster from the pits of hell. That thing made the demon lords of old look like playful water sprites at a family picnic." Harken shuddered, a small amount of the fear he had in the pit returning. "What happened to your arm?" A self-criticizing smile crept upon Rynheart''s face. "I got greedy. Tried to grab the demonic goblin as well as my brother... It cost me both my arm and my right eye." Harken blinked a few times in disbelief before turning to one of the honour guards next to him. "Destroy the Array." "No we can''t, It will take us a day to get there and the creature will be long gone. We need to kill it before it can grow and mature. The only certain way, is to let it come through the portal," growled Rynheart, causing the man that had stepped forward to flinch. "I cannot live the rest of my life looking over my shoulder, waiting for him to come seek his vengeance." A few seconds after he had finished, the array glowed, causing everyone to freeze as a figure appeared, or more precisely, what was left of one. The moment it solidified, the body fell apart, blood spraying everywhere causing a few of the weaker stomached individuals to vomit inside their helmets. Harken took a few steps back, away from the growing pool of blood that was already a meter and a half in diameter. "What does this mean? Why would a dead body come through?" "If means that my worst fears are correct. Not only have we blasphemed against the gods and birthed something that should not exist in our world, but that abomination is intelligent. Did you not see its skeletal and muscle structure. That thing is a killing machine and we have taken something precious from it. Even when its memories fade as its body solidifies, I doubt it will let us be. We have made a mortal enemy which we must kill." BOM:Summoned - Summoning - Chapter 5.2 The overwhelming stench of death hung heavy in the air as the once impressive summoning chamber lay in ruin. The few remaining mana crystals protruded precariously from the cracked walls, barely illuminating the room and its grisly contents. Small drops of blood fell from the partially destroyed ceiling and ran down the walls, flowing around the many dismembered body parts and congealing into small puddles that littered the pockmarked floor. The last slabs of the summoning portal, which had once been so imposing, crumbled into a fine dust kicking up into the air. Its intricate runes and magical arrays were mostly destroyed or covered by the copious amounts of blood and gore. The sight was so horrific that, to the average person, it would be surreal, their mind refusing to accept what their senses were trying to tell them. Crawling towards the only exit, a small, naked girl occasionally let out a little sob as she continually peeked over her shoulder, terror dancing in her eyes. When she was no more than a couple of meters away from the door, a spike of metal, which had once been a shield, snagged onto her metal collar, dislodging it from an impaled corpse before falling noisily to the floor. The demonic goblin released a small squeal of panic as she slowly looked towards the area she had been checking. Two glowing red eyes slowly opened - the owner covered from head to foot in gore, melding perfectly with the gruesome scenery - before scanning the room. After glancing at the girl and the wrapped metal fragment, the eyes closed once again as the owner released an angry hiss. It had taken the boy, who, in human terms, looked no more than eight-years-old, a long time to steady his breathing and repress the unimaginable pain that was wracking his body. The small amount of noise the girl had made was enough to break his concentration. He knew that he was teetering on a knife''s edge, and if he allowed himself to fall unconscious at the moment, let alone the risk of the men who escaped returning to finish him off, in his current condition, he might never wake up. A young, powerful voice resonated outwards in a language never before heard in Acoria. "Leave." The language and tone sounded harsh and menacing. Not understanding the meaning, the girl sunk to the floor, making herself as small and inconspicuous as possible causing the boy to release an irritated breath, apparently causing him a significant amount of pain as his face scrunched up and droplets of sweat began washing away some of the blood that covered his face. After a few minutes, his breathing stopped as his eyes opened and he stared at the exit. The boy''s reptilian pupils rapidly moved as if he were intensely analysing something down the long, dark corridor before letting out a small chuckle. "It never rains, but it pours... Good, I was getting bored."Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. The boy''s voice resonated outwards and down the corridor, destroying the silence and causing the five masked figures, who were moving soundlessly, to freeze. Although the language was alien to them, decades of experience enabled them to tell by the tone and subtleties, that they had been discovered and the owner of the voice was, not only resolved to fight to the death but in an incredible amount of pain. Curiosity and eagerness flashed across Verz''s beautiful, silver eyes as she grinned behind her mask. Being able to sense a Huntsman was already an impressive feat but being able to sense her and her party, which even caused the Sun Clan to shudder in fear and watch the shadows, was on an entirely different level. ¡°Rock, how many?" Crouching down, Rock placed both of his hands on the floor and silently cast a spell enabling him to sense anything that interacted with the earth around it. The only reason he had not done this earlier, is that a skilled mage would have been able to sense this, alerting them to the huntsmen''s presence. "Lot''s of dead, two alive, both children. The female child is terrified, the other..." The sudden pause in Rock''s report caused the other four huntsmen, who were positioned to react at a moments notice to any sudden change in the situation, to glance over in concern. "Is a male who has almost entirely erased his presence. His heartbeat, breathing and even the disturbances in the air. The only reason I can sense him is that he is suffering from an extreme case of mana poisoning and that his core is trying to purify it by absorbing mana linked to his two affinities." Being an elemental, and having earth as his primary affinity, Rock was peerless in his ability to scout natural environments. Being so deep in the mountain, his already outstanding ability, was greatly enhanced, but even still, his report was so shocking the other members found it hard to accept. "How is that even possible?" Hissed Kelora in disbelief, her demonic eyes squinting as if Rock was attempting to trick her. Questioning a party member in the field was considered a grave offence, but even Verz, the leader of the Huntsmen, found it impossible not to question Rocks statement. "Are you sure?" "I know that even light cases of mana poisoning are almost instantaneously fatal." Rock cleared his throat. "Or that you only get your second affinity when you evolve or grow into your adult form and that concealing your presence is a skill that takes centuries to master. I also know that a mana core being able to purify anything is a sign of a first generation or a God''s chosen, but I assure you, I am telling the truth. Inside that cavern lies a being that defies all logic and common sense." "Sounds like we found our ''hole'' in fate," muttered Ethemeusa, eagerness seeping into her voice. "Captain?" Verz visibly shook in excitement. It''s true. A being that will help me get my revenge and... if that seer was correct, someone who will inherit my clan''s legacy, ensuring that it will not end with me. "We have lost the element of surprise. Breach the room and secure the first child, surround the one with mana poisoning. Do not kill either of them." Commanded Verz as she moved into a crouch. If anyone who knew her could see the devilish grin she was wearing, they would have run in fear. The blood wolf had found her prey and not even the gods would stand in her way. BOM:Summoned - Summoning - Chapter 5.3 A commanding voice resonated out of the corridor, laced with excitement. "We have lost the element of surprise. Breach the room and secure the first child, surround the second. Do not kill either of them." Moments later, a small orb of light shot into the room, no bigger than an ember, and exploded in a dazzling light. The white light slowly receded, reverting the room back to its dark, red colouring and revealing the huntsmen already in position. Rock had his foot planted firmly on the demonic goblin''s back, pinning her to the floor as Kelora leant towards the girl, holding a short sword against her neck. "Shhh, be a good girl and don''t move." Meanwhile, surrounding the boy, Vers, Ethemeusa and the short female huntsman stood warily, ensuring that he could not escape. As Verz was the first to breach the room, she naturally had ended up behind the boy, cutting off any possibility of retreat. Wanting to face the boy, she signalled the others and the trio began to move clockwise. Almost instantly, they all tensed and took a few steps backwards, increasing the amount of time they had to react, noticing with that every step they took, the boy''s posture changed, almost perfectly maximising his options to attack or defend. As Verz slowly made her way to the front, she felt her heart rate increase. "Velcea, status?" "Less than half an hour old. Although the boy''s strength is extremely weak, my skill is marking him as an SSS ranked threat." The short female pulled down her mantle, two long dark-purple ears bouncing upwards as she pointed over her shoulder. "Looking at his hands and the multiple wounds on his body, he is the one who... let loose on our expired friends here. Vonai is a small kingdom, and their troop''s strength is below average, but with these numbers and environmental conditions, even an intermediate Huntsman would have difficulty surviving alone. I advise we leave him; he is far too dangerous." A smile slowly crept upon the boy¡¯s face as he spoke in an incomprehensible language. ¡°[Strong¡­ fast¡­ skilled. Not like the trash that was here.]¡± At every word he spoke, almost as if it was a spell, the red glow emanatingfrom his eyes intensified. His reptilian pupils locked onto Verz¡¯s as she moved into his vision, immediately recognising her as the leader. The moment their eyes met, Verz shuddered internally, both in excitement and fear. It had been a long time since anyone or anything had caused her to feel afraid. The boy''s gaze was so powerful that she had to remind herself to keep breathing. He''s perfect. Now the only thing left is to make a deal. Although Verz was renowned for her willful, uncompromising attitude, due to her past, she would never force another to do something against their will. After a few moments, she regained her composure and analysed the boy in front of her. "Eth, is he what I think he is?" "Even though it defies logic, I think so," responded the green-eyed woman, her intimidating, reptilian pupils appearing cute and cuddly in comparison to the boys. "If the Scale ever caught wind of his existence, then I wouldn''t be surprised if they started a holy crusade to claim him."The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. "Whats the problem?" shouted Kelora, her back to the group as she ensured the girl was not making any threatening movements. Even though their strengths were comparable to heaven and earth, in Accoria, even the mightiest of beings could be eliminated by the lowliest of creatures. As experts in guerilla warfare and one vs. many confrontations, the Huntsmen were not ones to underestimate an opponent, not matter how young or innocent. "He is just a hybrid demon, bag ''em and tag ''em; I''m starving." "Trust a demon to be hungry after seeing this," muttered Rock as he scanned his surroundings. Kelora chuckled. "Meh, you should see the demon capital, makes this look like... Okey, this is pretty... grim but still-" The other huntsmen had frozen at Kelora''s original words, not hearing a sound she had said afterwards. "Kelora... you sure this is a demon?" Asked Velcea, her voice slightly trembling, not from fear but excitement. Velcea was the brains of the Huntsmen and renowned for her tenacious nature in the pursuit of knowledge. In the presence of something that should not exist, she couldn''t resist licking her lips in anticipation. "Certain. Demons have the ability to sense others," said Kelora in a superior, all-knowing tone. "He is a hybrid, but without a doubt, he is a demon." "A draconic Demon," whispered Verz, hardly able to believe the being that was standing before her. "A WHAT?" shouted Ethemeusa. Moving so fast she didn''t even create an after image, Ethemeusa appeared next to the boy, grabbing his shoulders and spinning him around to face her as she looked deep into his eyes. *BANG* A bone-chilling hiss resonated from the boy, causing the huntsmen to feel fear gnawing deep withing them. Ethemeusa staggered backwards a couple of dozen feet, her mask shattering revealing a sharp, plain face that had been suspended in shock. The reptilian races were amongst the oldest in Acoria and were extremely proud of their heritage. Even though Malthasia''s climate was not suitable for them, causing a drastic reduction in their population, the Scale Council, the self-proclaimed leaders of the reptilian races, often purged any lineage that had become too diluted or intermingled with other races. The majority of the reptilians that joined the Huntsmen were opposed to the Scale Council''s policies, including Ethemeusa, but that still did not temper her reaction to the merging of one of their greatest bloodlines and their deadliest foes. "[Strike one.]" Once again, the boy spoke in a language none of them understood. Keloria looked into Rocks eyes and when he nodded, immediately moved to join the other Huntsmen. The moment she saw the boy, she couldn''t help but deeply inhale. "What in the prime evil''s name..." Taking a few moments to comprehend what she was seeing, Keloria stepped forward and crouched down. "This isn''t just any old demon; it''s like Rock said earlier... a prime variant. The slight discolourations on his skin are actually devil runes, and they can only exist on a first generation demon, one born from the coupling of an angel and devil." Acting in line with her demon heritage, excitement had blinded Keloria to her mission, and she reached forward to trace her finger along the runes in an attempt to confirm that her eyes were not tricking her. "Devils have been extinct hundreds of years... how can this-" Just as her hand was about to touch his body, the boy released a deep growl that caused the demoness to flinch and retract her hand. The boy had used up the majority of his remaining strength defending himself from what he perceived to be the first woman''s attack and was using everything he had left to remain standing. If he attacked now, he knew he would fall unconscious and be at the mercy of these strangers but at the same time; he was powerless to defend himself prompting him to resort his most detested tactic, bluffing. He clearly knew that the people in front of him were completely superior to him regarding speed, strength and ability, but unlike most creatures, who when in the presence of a being that could kill them with a casual swat, would cower in fear, the boy was ecstatic. If I am to die, then let it be against those who are worthy. BOM:Summoned - Summoning - Chapter 5.4 ==== ??? POV ==== Hmm, I would say that the bluff worked but... The silver eyed woman, the one who is obviously in charge of the new arrivals, issues what I assumed to be an order, causing the red and green eyed women to fall back, but instead of a sense of relief, I feel like I have fallen into checkmate. They know I am at my limit; I can see it in their eyes. They aren''t even bothering to cover the potential escape routes anymore. If I were not on my last legs, oh how I would love to show them the folly of underestimating me. My eye twitches in irritation as their long, black cloaks and white masks stop me from being able to predict and analyse their movements effectively. If they had come a little earlier when that black door was still standing, somehow empowering me, I could''ve eliminated them and continued with the only purpose I have ever known. To kill the six people who escaped. Three robbed men, a silver armoured man that disappeared into a puff of green smoke, a fox tailed creature that was hiding in the shadows and that God damned, cursed black knight. Somehow I know I was born in this dark pit, with nothing but rage, a profound sense of loss and deep hatred for those who stood before me. To add to my confusion, even though there is no logical explanation, I can somehow talk, although in a different language, am capable of rational thought and even understand abstract concepts like gravity and physics. If I was just born, then how do I have so much knowledge and if it is natural, why do does it feel like it''s so wrong? Whatever, it''s not like it really matters anyway. Even if I have no clue to who or what I am, it does not affect what I have to do. I need to finish what I started and kill the ones that escaped. No Exceptions. Looking at the scene before me, something at the back of my mind wants me to make an excuse like ''I blacked out due to rage'' or ''I lost control'' but that would be far from the truth. I was always in complete control and although my anger and grief, which even now I have no idea why I feel this way, caused me to act a little... rashly, I knew exactly what I was doing. Hell, I would love to do it again. Who knows, if I survive this, maybe I will. I slaughtered those toy soldiers and robed men like a farmer harvesting wheat, but I was arrogant. After the silver armoured man had escaped, I did not learn my lesson and allowed it to happen a further five times. The most vexing being the black knight, who is special. He must die in a slow and painful manner, burning the regret of whatever he did to cause me to feel this way, deep into his soul. With this line of thought, killing him like the rest seemed too kind, and as he slowed to grab a small girl, I struck, grabbing hold of his arm intending to throw him into the wall so I could savour the kill after I had finished clearing out the trash. That was my intent, however, like a damned lizard, that bastard''s arm fell off, and he sprinted towards where two robed men had just vanished into thin air. My momentum at trying to throw him acted against me and all I could do to stop him from reaching that point was to use my tail... It didn''t work, and although I took an eye... that scum escaped.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. Ignoring the fact that I had a tail, just thinking about the black knight causes me to grit my teeth in anger as bottomless rage surges forward. Thankfully my new guests distract me by reacting to my sudden change in mood, taking a few steps back. Calm down. In order to have my vengeance, I must survive. These new people dress and move completely different to the others. Those two women have proven that if they wanted to kill or incapacitate me, then it would be simple. Seeing that they are not phased by the carnage around them and are focusing on me, that means they want something. The question is, what do they want and is it a price I am willing to pay? While I was reflecting on my short life or at least the bits I could remember, the silver eyed woman had been staring directly into my eyes. Although I find them captivating in a weird sort of way, I instinctively feel that if I were to look away, I would lose, so I stare straight back. Haha, it''s almost like we are dogs fighting for domin- The thought once again reminds me of the weirdness of my situation, irritating me to no end. Now I am even thinking of creatures I would have no way of knowing about unless I had met them before or at least read about them in books... Oh, books, something else to add to the ''why the fuck do I know this'' list. Fuck I want to kill something. I don''t know how long I can take this; it''s like my mind, logic, and reality are pulled apart... Hell, I even thought I saw a man with a fox''s tail earlier, that''s two creatures combined into one that I know should be impossible. I would say I was dreaming but the intense pain pulsing through my body points to the contrary and I am forced to accept whatever weird reality I now find myself in. Fuck it; it doesn''t matter. Survive, kill those men and if they feel like talking before, brilliant. If not, I will work something out. Using my peripheral vision, I once again, for the hundredth time, scan the surroundings for anything that might give me an edge. I would say today¡¯s not been my lucky day. Well, seeing as I can only remember the last thirty minutes or so of my life, I suppose I have little to base that on. Maybe I shouldn''t have been so hasty in my purging. What am I thinking? I can''t even speak their language. I could have interrogated them until the cows come home and wouldn¡¯t have got a thing. I release a small chuckle, causing the woman in front to tilt her head in, what I assume to be, curiosity. I would say normally I am not one for the dark and mysterious act but the reaction is somewhat enjoyable, even if it is coming from a potential enemy. It''s official; I no longer class myself as sane. I should just stop thinking and kick back and enjoy the show. It''s not like any of this is actually helping me. Fatigue assaults my mind as my eyes begin to blur, but I refuse to lose to that woman and blink my eyes one after the other, ensuring they are not closed at the same time. Without conscious thought, my mind starts to wander, causing the face of the black knight to surface as my body begins to numb. Oh, how I will enjoy ripping you to shreds. Your screams of anguish and misery... and the others, well, I guess I can extend your fate to them. I mean, what other purpose do I have in life? Maybe I could even include family, pets, friends... wait, if I did that, I would need to do that before killing them, or it would be pointless, making me no better than a psychopath... Yeah... With these kinds of thoughts, I am worried about that. FOCUS! I can''t be off daydreaming when I might not even survive the next five minutes. The thought of surrendering crosses my mind, instantly making me feel nauseous and disgusted. No, I will not bow. If I must, I will die on my feet. Determination flashes across my eyes as I take a deep, painful breath. I guess I am out of moves, it''s your turn silver eyed lady... roll the dice. BOM:Summoned - Summoning - Chapter 5.5 A small smile appears underneath Verz¡¯s mask as she watches the boy maintaining eye contact, refusing to back down, even when his body had so clearly passed its limits. Noticing the signs she had been waiting for, that the boy was becoming delirious from exhaustion, Verz decided it was time to break the ice and see if she can gain his trust. Without breaking eye contact, Verz bent down and, with a single hand, picked up a nearly complete corpse by the neck. Raising the corpse, so it was level with her, its feet still dragging on the floor due to being slightly taller than her, Verz pointed to it with her free hand. "Sun Clan." Due to the boy''s physical state, the aura that was emanating from him had been gradually weakening, but the moment those two words left Verz''s mouth, it instantly doubled, and his reptilian pupils focused as he released a hate filled hiss. Though due to the language barrier, the boy did not know the meaning behind the words, something deep down inside him resonated, causing his blood to boil. "Well, at least he isn''t on the Sun Councils side." muttered Rock from across the room. "Yup, definitely not a fan," said Ethemesua coldly as she looked around the room. "But I think your observation skills are a little¡­ slow, rock for brains. So what''s the plan, Captain? Even though his hatred for them is evident, I don''t believe he is in the most cooperative of moods." Verz ignored the others as the hand she was pointing with curled into a fist. Moving so fast that the splitting of the surrounding air could be heard, Verz''s fist smashed into the corpse, instantly obliterating it and showering the area, Velcea and Kelora included, in an arc of blood and guts. "Dead." The gore covered duo stood for a few moments in shock before Velcea wiped the blood from her face, spitting out the bits that had entered her mouth and picked up a nearby corpse, holding it towards Verz. Repeating the same actions and words as Verz, she punched the body with a lot less strength, causing it to explode in much larger chunks. "Dead." Knowing that Verz could not dodge or break eye contact, Velcea snickered before she started cleaning her cloak. ¡°Children, if you are done playing who can make the most mess, we should get back to the task at hand,¡± said Ethemesua as she watched the boy with a weird glint in her eye. A minute, cough came from the boy, and when Verz turned to face him she saw a smile on his face, displaying a small amount of amusement at what had just occurred, but there was also the hint of victory in his expression. ¡°GODS BE DAMNED VEL. You made me break eye contact.¡± "I swear if you weren''t female you would be marking everything as your territory," replied Velcea in a smug voice. Kelora licked her lips, which were still covered in blood. ¡°Although this is rather entertaining, I am starving, and we really need to leave if we want to make it back before the harvest festival starts. Just knock him out already.¡± Verz sighed. ¡°How you ever survived to your fourth evolution will always astound me Kelora. Use your brain for once. Do you think this child is as simple as that? He has long since passed the point of exhaustion, has mana poisoning and if you look carefully enough, under the blood, his skin is of varying colours showing the signs of rapid regrowth. His willpower and stubbornness cannot be underestimated in the slightest. If we take him by force now, we will be making an eternal enemy." After briefly glaring at the demoness, Verz continued. "I would also say this fight was not as one sided as it appears, and whatever gave him the mana poisoning and ability regrow lost limbs also enhanced his strength to a ridiculous level¡­ unfortunately, when that happened, his meridians would have been stretched and warped. Meaning that for the next few months at least, he is going to be weaker than a newborn. If we were to act rashly while he is in this state, we could kill him."Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. Rock chuckled and shifted his weight, letting the girl under his foot breath a little easier. A small amount of relief washed over him knowing that the one who committed the massacre was no longer a threat. "I swear you should have been a member of the Inquisition, Captain, with predatory skills like your''s the corruption would be a thing of the past." Verz took a step forward and was now only about five feet away from the boy, which triggered another low growl. "Looks like he knows he is at his limits and is playing a bluffing game." Holding up both hands, Verz slowly reached for her mantle and lowered it before removing her mask. Beautiful, mystical silver eyes radiated from of what should have been flawless, delicate features. However, large, vicious looking scars and large patches of skin that looked like it had been burnt or melted, littered Verz''s face. Pointing to a corpse nearby, Verz repeated the same words she had done earlier. ¡°Sun Clan.¡± Then she pointed to her face. ¡°Did this.¡± The boy frowned slightly, his brief moment of clarity gradually fading as even his rage could not keep the exhaustion at bay. So is she trying to say the enemy of my enemy is my friend? It appears the ''Sun Clan'' are a group of people and that I am not the only one who has a bone to pick with them. The boy¡¯s eyes had softened slightly but not enough, so Verz decided to do something more drastic. Slowly removing her cloak as not to spook him, she started unbuttoning the clasps on her leather armour. Velcea hurriedly stepped forward but was stopped by Verz¡¯s outstretched hand. ¡°Verz, are you sure we can trust him? If people find out-¡± Ignoring her companion, Verz removed the front portion of the armour, revealing her naked chest causing Rock to stare intently at the ceiling as if his life depended on it. Like her face, deep white scars littered her enchanting figure, small lumps of flesh were missing, creating craters in her otherwise enchanting, snowy white skin. With a shaking hand and hatred evident in her eyes and voice, Verz pointed out one final time. ¡°Sun Clan.¡± She then pointed to a hideous, deep scar that was directly above her heart. ¡°Dead.¡± Even though there was the language barrier, her actions spoke volumes, especially to someone like the boy, who, although he had no memories, was able to draw on a wealth of knowledge. Slightly confused by the meaning of dead as she was clearly standing in front of him, Mors decided he had misinterpreted it, and it meant ''kill''. The boy¡¯s eyes started to blur, and it took a few moments to formulate a response. Pointing to a corpse by his feet the boy responded in their language. ¡°Sun can¡­ dead. dead Sun.¡± After watching Verz''s reaction, he continued and pointed to the door. "Dead Sun can, dead." Verz¡¯s face, that had been extremely tense since revealing her chest suddenly light up in a radiant smile as she re-equipped her leather armour and held out her hand towards the boy. ¡°Yes¡­ let¡¯s make all the Sun Clan dead.¡± The boy stared at her hand for a few moments as he thought about his options before finally raising his hand shakily. Just as he was about to take it, he started to topple over, causing Verz to step forward and catch him in her arms eliciting a snigger from Kelora. As he was about to lose consciousness, the boy spoke out. ¡°This is your one chance. Betray me, and I will burn your world and everything you hold dear to the ground.¡± ¡°No clue what the little feller said but I get the feeling that it wasn''t goodnight.¡± chortled Rock as he leant down and gave a quick chop to the back of the girl''s neck, rendering her unconscious before picking her up. ¡°And just to make it perfectly clear, I am not carrying that bundle of killing intent,¡± hissed Ethemeusa. ¡°The fact that he has draconic heritage is making my skin crawl.¡± ¡°Thought you would have been trying to jump his unconscious bones, you know with the Scale Councils breeding program and all?,¡± snipped Kelora. Ethemeusa moved forward in an intimidating manner. ¡°You¡¯re the perverted one yo-¡± ¡°ENOUGH! Due to failing myself, I have let everyone¡¯s unprofessionalism slide tonight but the next person who fails will be training recruits for a year. Let''s go.¡± Said Verz as she wrapped part of her cloak around Mors and haphazardly slung him over her shoulder, having no experience in dealing with children. ¡°Captain, what do you want to be done with the girl?¡± said Rock. ¡°Bring her. All demons and demonic hybrids are powerful beings. After we identify what sin she has, we will know how we can make use of her.¡± ¡°Where to?¡± asked Velcea in a hard tone, still irritated by the copious amounts of blood covering her. ¡°I doubt we will be able to slip past the garrisons with the hornet''s nest our little friend just kicked. Shouldn''t the king, or what¡¯s left of him, be around here somewhere?¡± "We will be taking the route through the mountains. Last time we travelled through the Snow Demon¡¯s territory, we paid double so they should let us pass," replied Verz as she disappeared into the dark corridor. "Ahhh fuck, I knew it was going too well," spat Rock. Kelora nodded. ¡°What, still upset that you lost everything but your underwear last time we were there?¡± ¡°1 year.¡± Verz voice echoed down the corridor carrying a hint of amusement. BOM:Summoned - Interlude with Death - Chapter 6.1 ==== ??? Pov ==== Endless darkness surrounds me, no sound, no taste, no nothing. Floating in the void, or what I assume to be floating, due to the missing sense of gravity or visual cues, I feel a little nauseous as I contemplate how I got here. To say this feeling is... uncomfortable would be an enormous understatement. It doesn''t hurt, but it''s pretty damn irritating. Irritation... the emotion triggers memories, reminding me of that damned cave, now tomb to those I slaughtered. It was also the place I met those weird people with the white masks. Wait, I am floating in nothingness... THEY FUCKING KILLED ME. The void I find myself in suddenly makes sense. The last thing I remember is deciding to take a gamble on that silver eyed woman after giving her a warning. Even though it was pointless as she probably didn''t understand me, for some reason, I felt like I could trust her to some extent and finally allowed myself to pass out. As I have my post-death rage/hissyfit, cursing them with every insult I can imagine, an old but young, male but female voice resonates from nowhere. "You''re not dead... unfortunately it''s not that easy to kill one such as yourself." I vaguely hear what the voice is saying, but it''s soon forgotten as I start remembering something else, memories from before the pit. The voice once again spoke. "I said you''re not de-" SHUT UP¡­ I¡¯m¡­ remembering something. "You might want to hold off on that until your persona has formed a little. Your soul and memories are too old and powerful. If you remember all of them now, there is a high possibility you will lose your grip on, what you mortals call, reality and, more importantly, your ego," replied the voice. Everything is ignored as images flash across my mind. ==== It''s a bright, sunny day and I am walking through an airport; planes are taking off on the runway outside as my ears are bombarded by the incessant mumbling of hundreds of people. A tugging sensation on my hand draws my gaze down and onto the face of a beaming young girl with bright blue eyes and wavy blonde hair. It is Fay, my daughter. I return her smile. It''s rare for Fay and me to spend time together, and I had to fight tooth and nail to secure this holiday from that bitc... my ex. Like anything enjoyable, the weekend away passed in a blink of an eye, and I can''t help but feel a little sad that it''s over and I won''t be seeing Fay for some time. This holiday was the first major reward for my rehabilitation or whatever the doctors wanted to call it. When we broke up, the ex, Larua, dragged every skeleton out of my proverbial closet, even the one''s I didn''t know about, in order to separate me from my daughter. Luckily, with a lot of time and persistence, and making some serious lifestyle changes, things eventually became more amiable.This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. To be fair to Laura, I can''t really blame her. I was a selfish, single-minded idiot whose pride and stubbornness was almost world renowned, mainly due to a little incident with me cutting the first joint of my little finger off to prove a point. Unfoturtnalty, it was recorded and went viral, ending up being the biggest nail in the coffin that was our relationship. I guess my constant nightmares and anger issues didn''t help either, but with therapy, they had eventually been brought under control. I still see things from time to time, strange grey orbs or shadows moving with intent but as long as I ignore them, everyone else is none the wiser. The toughest was abiding by the arbitrary rules others set to give themselves the illusion of control, but if it''s for my daughter, I would move a mountain. I have even managed to push the issue of everything seeming mundane and boring, as if I have done them thousands of times before, to the back of my mind and just live life for the moment. ==== ¡°Oh, just ignore me, the God of Death. It¡¯s fine. I will wait for the great and mighty, ancient soul to finish their little recap.¡± The voice interrupted my¡­ vision? Memory? Whatever it was, it was distracting me from the emotions and gut feeling I was trying so hard to ignore. Interrupt again, and it will be the last thing you do. ¡°You won''t like the answers,¡± responded the voice, strangely with a hint of fear and anticipation mixed into it. "Take it from one who has experienced it. Some things are best left forgotten, especially for one so volatile and... unyielding." ==== Laura was standing next to the arrivals board, a large smile on her face but daggers in her eyes. As we approached, the air around us seemed to get lighter, as if everything was emitting a bright glow. Thinking I was having another one of my episodes, I decided to ignore it. A woman to my right releases an ear-piercing scream drawing my attention. What appears to be woman''s husband is laying on the floor. As if her scream was a signal, screams and shouts erupt around me as people start dropping to the floor like wet laundry. Not one to be phased, I immediately looked for the safest route to get my daughter... and maybe Laura if I felt like it, out of there or at least identify the threat. Spotting a security door, I was about to take a step forward when a sharp, numbing sensation ran up my arm, and I felt Fay fall. I spin around and catch Fay before she hits the floor, her dead, blue eyes staring blankly. NO! I quickly check her vitals before vaguely feeling my hand being pulled upwards, as I hold onto what appears to be a grey orb. My entire world shatters at that moment; I instinctively know that what I have in my grasp. and the things I have seen my whole life, are in fact, real. I wasn''t crazy as everyone, even myself, believed. I could feel it. My daughter''s soul. Time seems to freeze as I am hit by an unknown, crippling force that tries to push me away, but I refuse to let go. I have no idea about what happens after death, but what parent would let their child go into the unknown. In my peripheral, I spot similar orbs being sucked into black holes that had appeared just above them. This isn''t right; this can''t be right. No..no...no¡­ no¡­ have to do something, have to do something. I can''t let this happen. I WILL NOT LET THIS HAPPEN. Helplessness washed over me as I sensed my daughter''s distress, unable to think of any way to stop what was happening. ==== Back in the void, the darkness around me violently warps and flexes as if reacting to my rage. I can''t bear to remember the rest but I must. The memories from the cave, the deep anger and loss I am feeling, the desire to destroy everything, it''s all starting to make sense. I try to calm my mind before remembering the rest, knowing that I must burn it into my memory. BOM:Summoned - Interlude with Death - Chapter 6.2 ==== ??? Pov ==== The final moments of my previous life merge with the memories from the cave, putting the final pieces of the puzzle together asI stare into the darkness, which has long since returned to its tranquil state. Eventually, I manage I repress my need for blood and vengeance. Everything has a time and place, and when I get my hands around that black knight''s neck, I can vent to my heart''s content. Somehow I know that there is a lot more to remember, but it doesn''t matter. I have all the information I need. "A wise choice for someone who has peerless innate knowledge but no experience. Maybe you''re not as hopeless as I thought," muttered the strange, otherworldly voice in a confident tone. Lost in my memories, I had forgotten about the voice. Your meaning? "Unlike when you are conscious, while you are in your soul''s realm, every memory that has had enough impact or emotion to leave a spiritual imprint, is available to you, with the right cues of course. If you were to try and remember everything now, the present you would cease to exist." Am I not already dead? "Mortals." The voice lets out an exasperated sigh. "Unfortunately for Acoria, the world you are now a permanent resident of, you are pretty much the definition of immortal. The flesh that is currently your soul''s vessel is alive and... recovering." Then tell me how I get out of here. I don''t have time to waste with voices in my head. "Patience. Your body is currently fighting to keep itself alive after your little rampage, and your subconscious has... removed you from the controls, so to speak, to help with this endeavour," replied the voice in irritation. "I Also have an important matter I wish to discuss." I thought you said I was immortal? If that is the case how can I die? And who are you? "Even though you have so many experiences behind you, I still find it shocking that you can so readily accept another world and magic and are more concerned with picking holes in what I am trying to tell you," chuckled the voice in amusement. Reality is perception and perception is reality. Now answer my questions. I felt a foreign presence get closer. "You are a unique existence, and while your body is moral, that is to say it can die, your soul has now been infused with mana from this dimension. This coupled with the many lives you have lived, has resulted in you becoming something... new." After a half a minutes silence, the voice continued. "You have long passed the point where you could ascend to the next plane so now, if your body is destroyed, your soul along with all the memories you have accumulated, will find a... suitable embryo and you will be reborn. You are outside of what you mortals call the circle of life. Fate and death are meaningless to you, making you incredibly dangerous, especially to beings like us." It all sounded ludicrous, but after my recent experiences, I continued to listen. "To answer your last question, in your previous world, I am similar to the existence you would call Death; but after analysing some of your memories, I find the term Grim Reaper more... enjoyable. Please call me Grim. As I have seen some of your past, I know your patience is a finite resource so I will get down to business. I have a proposition for you. One that will speed up and enhance your vengeance significantly without dragging the whole world into it."Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. I was getting restless, wanting nothing more than to get back to wherever my body was and hunt down those who had killed... no, destroyed my daughter''s soul. Hurry it up. I have places to go and people to butcher. The presence around me intensified as if it had been waiting for me to get impatient. "You need to understand that what happened in the summoning room was a fluke. Essence derived from powerful creatures and the souls of those you killed, along with unique spell formations, gave you an incredible, but temporary, boost in power." "Although compared to the young of traditional species, you are a terrifying creature, as you currently are, even an average human would be able to kill you without much trouble. Not only are you weak because you have just been ''born'', but your body has nearly been destroyed by the magical backlash caused by absorbing and using too much foreign mana." ... So you''re saying I am pathetically weak? Grim ignored my interruption. "This is where my proposition comes in. I will declare you my avatar, bestow upon you a name, skills and abilities that will enable you to effectively carry out your revenge as well as some... guidance." If what you say is true, I will grow and recover. What makes you think I need your he- "Knowing what you have just found about, not only in regards to your pitiful state but about souls and reincarnation, would you be content with simply killing them? Also if you are to hunt down those that are truly responsible, then without my help, you might just make it to them as they take their last, gasping breaths before succumbing to old age." I remained silent as I pondered the meaning behind the self-proclaimed god''s words. Like hell would I be content with that outcome; those responsible must suffer the same fate as my daughter, every last one of them. It seems you know me too well. How can givingme a name and... skills? help me? "Being named by a God gives many benefits, and as the God of Death, I can bestow abilities that will... match the requirements needed for your revenge. I will show you the abilities now, in the same format you will find in Acoria so things make a little more sense but remember, these will only be available if you agree to my terms." What seemed to be a grid with text appeared in the darkness.
SoulSplit
Using spirit energy, you carve out a portion of your soul''s memories and implant them into another, creating a substitute soul that can grow and evolve.
Substitute souls can only be implanted into entities that are capable of conscious thought. By implanting a soul into a living being, you are in effect, killing the previous occupant and pushing their soul into the reincarnation cycle. The memories removed from your soul will be forgotten, but personality traits developed from them will remain Upon leaving the host''s soul, the substitute will become an independent entity.
[Requirements] Requires the host to have a soul age over five thousand. This requirement doubles with each use. Soul energy used must be accumulated in Acoria.
The table vanished before I could fully understand it, another one reappearing in its place.
Soul Destruction
Using the host''s spiritual force, a target soul''s energy is irreversibly destabilised, causing it to collapse in on itself and disperse while suffering from unimaginable pain.
The target''s soul is destroyed. The resultant spiritual energy from the destroyed soul will pollute the area with mana radiation. Will not work on other Avatars
[Requirements] Can only be cast when there is a positive balance count created by substitute souls. Soul energy used must be accumulated in Acoria.
I guess I can work out the details later. And the guidance? "I will give you a brief glimpse into the past of someone who will be of great help to you. Even though your first meeting wasn''t ideal, I need you to get along. I have already caused more than enough trouble manipulating the Goddess of Foresight''s avatars so that you two could meet." I doubt you are talking about the black knight or the naked girl so I assume you''re talking about the silver eyed, one punch meat grinder? BOM:Summoned - Interlude with Death - Chapter 6.3 ==== ??? Pov ==== I doubt you are talking about the black knight or the naked girl so I assume you''re talking about the silver eyed, one punch meat grinder? ¡°Yes,¡± laughed the voice, ¡°but like you, her heart is filled with vengeance. So to ensure she doesn¡¯t mistakenly use you as a stepping stone, as well as repaying the debt I owe to your soul sibling, I have an extra skill for you.
The last - God Ranked Skill
Having existed countless millennia, you are destined to outlast time itself, and so are or will be the last of many things. Due to your unique soul, you are able to inherit skills and abilities, even those with restrictions, from those who are the last of their kind, ensuring their legacy is never extinguished.
Both parties must be willing for the skill or ability to be inherited When skills or abilities have identical results, only the strongest will take effect. Excludes abilities that rely on non-existent racial features.
Let me get this straight. Not only are you offering a potential ally, an absurdly powerful skill that will enable me to destroy the souls of my enemies along with a skill that will allow me to use it by creating a substitute soul, but you are also giving me abilities to make my life easier... I am no fool. What do you get out of this? A deep chuckle caused the void to shake. "As Gods, we have to perform certain roles to ensure, well you wouldn''t be able to comprehend why so let''s just keep calling it ''the balance''. However, we are only able to interact with the world through proxies, or what I have been calling avatars. As such, I offer you this power in exchange for your... help with certain things." "I am what could be considered a neutral god, and thus my methods are tailored towards maintaining the status quo. You are a being that should not exist, that is not controlled by fate and most importantly, a very malicious, vindictive entity that would happily destroy the world if given half the chance and no other choice." The quick progression of the conversation, as well as Grim¡¯s blatant insult, caused me to forget to ask about the soul sibling he mentioned. ... "I am just telling you how I see it. This summoning is but a single event in a long list that has occurred due to those that seek to manipulate or destroy the ''balance'' for their own selfish desires. I will not try to win you over with statements like ''so the same fate will not fall on anyone else'' or some garbage about the ''greater good'' because I know it will not work. You desire revenge and to have it, you need strength and ability. By giving you those, I mitigate the risks of you becoming desperate and doing something stupid like creating a space rupture or something." A what? "Ignore what I just said. Just know that everything has a price, and the price for your vengeance is to become my avatar, to hunt down those I deem¡­ necessary and to avoid tipping the balance too significantly in one direction.Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. It sounds too easy. What¡¯s the catch? "I didn''t expect you to ask that question. I guess without experience, all that knowledge is useless," sighed Grim. "I guess in simple terms, you can chalk it up to good and evil. You will mainly eliminate those who are too extreme on either side of the scale, thus earning the hatred of nearly everyone. The ''good'' will see you as evil, and the evil... well, they usually see themselves as good, so once again, you''re evil... maybe this wasn''t the best example as it''s very two dimensional, but I hope you get the point." If I could, I would be rubbing my temples in pain about now. I somehow get the sense that Grim is struggling to put things in a way that I would be able to understand. So basically, I will become your executioner and by doing so, make many enemies. "Hmm, more like you will help reset the balance. Death is not the end, and for those that are... executed, as you put it, their souls will be given a chance to transcend or reincarnate. This world is just a stop gap in the vast scheme of things... well, for everyone but you. Even us Gods get to advance once we have fulfilled our roles and found a suitable replacement." Excellent, an eternal prisoner who is exchanging freedom for revenge. "Not at all. When nothing significant is going on, you can do as you please, providing you don''t destroy the balance too much. Everything in moderation. No taking over the world or committing mass genocide." Why do I feel that last bit wasn¡¯t added as an example but a rule? "Anyway, I guess this is the bit where I bait the hook," laughed Grim. "I love the expressions and proverbs from your world, I hope you can spread a bit of that during your time here. If we weren''t on such a tight deadline, I would relish the chance to see how things developed in your old dimension." ... So? "Ahh yes, firstly having you learn the native tongue naturally will be a problem so I will be sorting that out, but the real icing on the cake," Grim chuckled at that, "is that we have a common enemy, one only a very few people have any ¡®real¡¯ information about." I am assuming you mean ''Sun Clan''. "Once again, you are correct. The Sun Clan are a group that have been a pain in my side since their formation over ten thousand years ago. The other Gods stayed my hand when they performed the last summoning, irradiating one-third of the world and causing countless species to become extinct. With this second attempt, even though it is debatable which one had the worse outcome, they have lost their support and I can finally act. By the way, I don¡¯t just want the leadership dead¡­ I want the entire organisation burnt to the ground¡­ No survivors. Looking at snippets from your past, I believe you have no issues with this?¡± Not knowing what you are talking about regarding my past, if you have nothing more to add, no rules or restrictions, then none at all as I was going to do it anyway. "Good. So¡­ do you agree to my terms?" As long as our agendas never cross, I guess I don''t really have a choice. "Time reveals all truths. From the little I know about you, as long as I never act against you or those that you are close with, or try to control you too much, I don''t see us having a problem." Somehow I feel this is still too biased in my favour and certain aspects of our conversation have been glossed over. Once again, I forget that I am not talking, but thinking and Grim can hear everything. "That''s because you still do not know your true self. Well then, I think it''s time you woke up. Oh, and I wouldn''t mention what you are about to find out until the person in question tells you... A few unlucky souls have passed this way for that offence already, and I doubt we will find a body equal to your current one." Memories that should belong to the silver eyed woman flood into my mind, causing me to shudder. "Awake, Mors Letum, Demon of Wrath, Avatar of Death, Keeper of Souls, he who is not bound by fate, the Eternal. May you find peace amongst the torrent of time, while our enemies quake in fear." You know, for someone who claims to be neutral, you''re pretty merciless. ¡°My avatar, it''s the neutral gods who are the most dangerous. We have no allegiance to any side and are capable of anything in order to meet our objectives. Something I am sure you will discover in time as I am only one of two Gods who has taken an interest in you.¡± Grim''s last words confused me, but I felt as if I was floating upwards and hazily opened my eyes. Not even five centimetres from my face, two silver eyes stared intently at me. As my arms wouldn''t move fast enough, all I could do was shout. "MOVE!" BOM:Summoned - A new world - Chapter 7 The majestic, bright orange sun was slowly setting in the west; it¡¯s dying light filtering through the thick woodland canopy as the huntsmen finished preparing their temporary campsite. After making sure the surrounding area was secure, the group sat around a small fire dressed in regular adventurer''s clothing, mainly comprising of a mixture of tattered leather armour, with the exception of Rock, who due to his massive frame wore blemished plate armour. ¡°Captain, after the mission in Kelthos, I think it¡¯s time we updated our disguises,¡± said Rock while putting his finger through a rusty hole in his shoulder guard. Anyone with a hellroots amount of sense will be able to tell we are hiding something.¡± Rock threw a stone into his mouth, chewing it with a loud crunching noise. ¡°I¡¯m not saying we need S-Level adventure gear, but trying to pass off as D-rank is becoming impossible, especially since the adventure guild lowered the rank requirements last fall.¡± ¡°Who¡¯s the lucky lady you want to impress?¡± smiled Kelora as she skewered a chunk of meat and placed it over the fire. ¡°Remember there are two reasons to our shabby outfit, the first is to be unnoticeable, the second is to lull our opponents into a false sense of security, so if they are foolish enough to try anything, it¡¯s the last thing they do.¡± ¡°What terrifies people isn¡¯t that the huntsmen are dangerous and powerful, but they are an unknown element,¡± interrupted Verz. ¡°We strike and disappear like night wraiths, only fighting the battles we know we can win. This type of disguise remains until it''s effectiveness is compromised. Then we will look at changing our tactics.¡± Kelora flashed Rock a victorious, smug grin as the grey, stone-like eyes of the elemental rolled upwards in defeat. ¡°You¡¯re the boss, captain.¡± Ethemeusa was sitting in silence staring into the fire with the young demonic goblin nestled in her lap. Being the most maternal of the group, already having adopted two basilisk lamia variants back at headquarters, the job of looking after the goblin fell to her. ¡°Captain¡­ What are we going to do about the demon? It¡¯s already been three days.¡± ¡°I say give her a promotion, a hunky elf and a massive pay raise,¡± laughed Kelora, not missing the chance to annoy her best friend. ¡°Har de har. I mean the good looking, non-retarded one over there,¡± hissed Eth as she pointed at Mors, who was laying on the ground between Verz and Rock in the same makeshift clothes as the goblin. A wicked grin appeared on Kelora''s face causing Ethemeusa to facepalm. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean it like that. If we really are friends, please let that one slide¡­ please.¡± ¡°Fine, but you owe me,¡± replied the demoness before turning to Verz. ¡°Eth does have a point though, captain. Most types of demon have an extremely strong bond, their primary sins permitting, between parent and child, mainly to stop them trying to kill each other but also so that the parents can then teach their young restraint and basic survival skills. Demon younglings without parents rarely survive long, mainly due to picking a fight with the wrong opponent or doing something incredibly stupid.¡± ¡°Like absorbing enough energy to level a small continent in order to slaughter a room full of strangers that they have just met?¡± questioned Verz. Even though she was worried that the boy had not yet awoken, she was secretly relieved. Since finding out the information from the Sun Clan¡¯s seer, she had invested a lot of time and resources into discovering the location and timing, but now that she had him, she had no clue how to proceed. She knew she needed to make a good impression and earn the demon''s trust but due to her past, she had no experience dealing with children. Verz was brought up, both through childhood and then the horrors that befell her afterwards, in the mindset of survival of the fittest, resulting in more than one adept''s death before she excused herself from their training duties.The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. ¡°Bit extreme, even for a demon, but yes. I wou-¡± responded Kelora. ¡°I think you are ignoring something pretty big,¡± interjected Ethemeusa. ¡°He has draconic heritage. If the stories are true, then when a dragon is born, it must immediately fight to the death with its twelve siblings, only then will the mother consider the child worthy of raising. Once the drake has eliminated the competition, the mother then beats it to the point of unconsciousness to ensure she earns its respect. It''s dragon''s pride as well as the arrogance of being the brood survivor making it unmanageable otherwise." ¡°Pfft, his base race is a demon, and he doesn¡¯t have any siblings so why is that important?¡± said Kelora clearly irritated. "The heritage of a demon is not so weak as to succumb to a dragon''s." Verz looked at the demon boy. ¡°So he will only respect overwhelming strength but at the same time need some sort of emotional bond and guidance?¡± Kelora was the first to respond. ¡°Who knows, he¡¯s a creature that shouldn''t exist, and thankfully I have never had children so this is all theory. Anyway, I guess you already have taken the first step. Blasting that body to pieces in front of him showed off your strength and then offering him the option to come with us instead of taking him by force, kinda worked. In fact, I doubt anyone would be more qualified than you to become that little monster''s parent. Getting a kill streak like that off the bat is pretty damn impressive.¡± Verz frowned and was about to retort when a faint voice came from the boy, stopping their conversation in its tracks. ¡°Y¡­..ow¡­.cla¡­.utra¡­.merci¡­¡± Although she was aware that the boy could not speak, or at least not her language, which if it was a different language was yet another mystery surrounding him, Verz leant in to try and hear the words. When she was no more than five centimetres from his face, the demon boy¡¯s eyes shot open, locking onto hers and sending a cold chill down her spine. The boy¡¯s lips opened. ¡°MOVE!¡± Verz was genuinely shocked, not at what he said, but that she could understand him. ¡°What did you say?¡± Annoyance flashed across the demon''s captivating, reptilian eyes, briefly replacing the grief that was evidently there. ¡°Move¡­ you¡¯re invading my personal space.¡± If it had been anyone else, Mors would have probably attacked them on sight, but something inside of him had already accepted the silver eyed woman. He didn¡¯t think it was due to the visions the God of Death had shown him, no matter how pity-inspiring they were, or the fact that they shared a common enemy. Mors briefly pondered if this was some sort of trick played on him either by Grim or the woman but as it was roughly in the direction he wanted to go anyway, he decided it didn¡¯t matter. What did matter, though, was the varying emotions coursing through his body and mind. Rage, loss and most of all, emptiness. In the void, he had somehow been able to suppress them but now he was back in his body, they hit him full force, making it difficult to take a breath. Verz noticed a blood tear, drip from one of Mors¡¯ eye as she backed away to give him some room. I was right; this boy has definitely lost someone close to him but how is that possible? Weren¡¯t the summoned meant to be clean slates, with no memories of their past lives? ¡°That''s not good,¡± said Kelora as she stood up to peer over Verz¡¯s shoulder. ¡°A demon only cries blood when they have been hurt to the point of creating a blood pact with themselves. Either the demon kills those responsible for their suffering, or they die trying. It¡¯s where the saying ¡®Blood Rain is always preceded by a demon¡¯s tears¡¯ comes from. I wonder who drove him to this point.¡± ¡°Sun Clan,¡± spat Mors, his voice laced with hate, not in response to Kelora''s question but as the only wordthat he could vent his anger at. The black knight came a close second, but now he had some of his previous life''s memories, that name, although descriptive, was too good for him. Kelora internally sighed in relief. If the demon''s rage were targeted at them, they would have to kill him, making this whole endeavour a complete waste of time. Sitting back down, she smiled at Verz who was displaying a thoughtful expression. ¡°See, you even hate the same things. Perfect mother material.¡± Verz glared back. "Seeing as you''re so insightful in parental matters, I guess it would only be fitting to increase your time training the adepts by a year. I think that makes two years now, doesn''t it?" "And they call me a demon," sulked Kelora, tending to her now burn piece of meat. BOM:Summoned - A new world - Chapter 7.2 Now that Verz had backed away, Mors was able to struggle into a sitting position. Ignoring the few streaks of blood that were falling from his eyes, colouring his vision red, he could not stop thinking about the summoning pit and his conversation with Grim. Now that he was thinking clearly, or at least not encumbered by crippling exhaustion, Mors realised that not only did he have a part to play in the destruction of his daughter''s soul, but he was also powerless to do anything about it. If he had let her go, then, although she had been killed, abducted to a new world and enslaved, she would still exist. Doubts and regrets flooded his mind as he questioned everything, ignoring the six pairs of eyes that were watching him intently. She was gone, and although he talked big, he knew he was too weak to do anything, especially in his current state. His steady heartbeat resonated in his ears as he looked into the fire. Hatred, not only at those he deemed responsible, the Sun Clan and the black knights currently unknown fraction but at himself surged forth like an unstoppable tsunami, causing Mors to grind his teeth in frustration. Unbeknown to him, at that moment, the fearful screeches of birds erupted around him and the surrounding insects silenced. The only thing that was making noise was the little demonic goblin, cowering in Ethemeusa¡¯s lap, trying to make herself as small and unnoticeable as possible. ¡°That¡¯s one powerful debuff,¡± muttered Rock. ¡°If we weren¡¯t in the late stages of the Bronze-realm, I bet we would feel a lot more than just a chill.¡± Verz placed her hand on Mors¡¯ shoulder, snapping him from his spiralling, negative thoughts. ¡°You need to control your emotions, little demon. Not only is it a waste of energy, hindering your recovery, but it makes it incredibly easy for people to track you and anticipate your actions.¡± Mors stared blankly into Verz¡¯s eyes for a few moments before closing his and taking a deep breath. He decided to focus on moving his individual muscles to distract himself as well as evaluate the state of his body. There were a few strange muscles that he didn¡¯t really know how to control or even what they were for, but he decided he could work that out later as, by the time he discovered them, he had managed to calm himself to a decent level and now needed to confirm the situation. Opening his eyes, he quickly scanned the surroundings, feeling slightly awkward as everyone was staring at him like some sort of sideshow. The tyrannical, blood-thirsty aura had dissipated and the sounds of the night slowly began to return as Verz started speaking. ¡°I know you probably have a lot of questions. I will start with why you are her-¡± Mors was not in the mood for a long talk and decided to end the conversation as quickly as possible. ¡°You and your huntsmen have abducted me from the Sun Clan and their allies in the hope that my unique ability, to be invisible to divination, the Sun Clan¡¯s greatest asset, can be used against them. Lucky for you, my sole purpose in life is to destroy the Sun Clan and everything it stands for. I know I am too weak to face them at the moment, and so I have no other choice than to ask you for help, Verz Hekate, last of the Moon Clan. I need power.¡± The other huntsmen who had been sitting in silence looked at each other in shock. Although they frequently talked and joked with each other, they would never speak of such information unless necessary, especially the second name of their Captain. Verz shifted the partial mask covering the bottom of her face as she glared at the unflinching demon. ¡°Care to share how you know so much, little demon?¡± ¡°Ask no questions, hear no lies. I have only met you and am already taking a huge risk revealing this much,¡± replied Mors in a tone that made it clear he would not elaborate further. Rock sniggered, drawing the angry gaze of Verz as she resisted the urge to drop kick the boy. ¡°Well, I guess that is fair enough. You knowing at least that much saves a fair amount of time. Let me introduce you to my team.¡± Mors was currently flexing his hands, looking at the weird glint his nails reflected from the fire. ¡°I have no interest in knowing their names. I am not joining the huntsmen, I am temporarily joining you in order to gain enough strength and knowledge to have my vengeance. I will not become one of your pawns.¡± ¡°This is what I meant by picking a fight with a something they shouldn¡¯t,¡± sighed Kelora. ¡°one gold on his sin being pride or wrath.¡± Ethemeusa quietly chuckled. ¡°I don¡¯t know, the worst thing about taking care of another species is that they often think and feel so differently. At the moment, if you removed the exterior, those two are basically the same, apart from the demon being so weak it''s almost laughable.¡± Mors tensed at the insult from the woman but did not say anything. After a few moments in deep thought, Rock joined in causing the others to shake their heads in pity. ¡°That''s no fair. You can only pick one if you want a bet."This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Verz was shocked and slightly confused by Mors'' response. ¡°I am the leader of the huntsmen, by following me you are automatically one of them. Also, the Sun Clan isn¡¯t a group someone can bring down alone. They have hundreds if not thousands of members and have existed for millennia. If it were that easy, do you think we would be having this conversation? Now I am going to introduce you to my team; it would be in your best interest to listen.¡± Verz pointed to the short woman with long, pointed ears sticking out of her dark hair. Her completely yellow eyes were a little unnerving for Mors as he could not see any sign of her pupils. ¡°This is Velcea, a dark elf and my partner. She specialises in assassination techniques and information gathering. When I am not around, she is in charge.¡± The next one Verz pointed to was a hulking man in armour, or at least that''s what you would assume by his shape. It was as if someone carved, roughly, a statue out of dark grey rock. The stone man smiled, his lighter grey eyes and teeth standing out from his darker skin. ¡°Rock, earth elemental, our tank and resident gambling addict. It would be best to avoid him as much as possible unless you want to join him as an outcast.¡± Rock shook his head at the poor introduction as Verz continued, now pointing at someone who would have been considered a beautiful woman, if it were not for her blood red eyes and wicked, almost mocking smile. Two small, black horns protruded from her flaming red hair, curving backwards. A small, black, whip-like tail danced in the air behind her, ending in a small triangle. When their eyes met, Mors subconsciously let out a deep growl causing the woman to chuckle. ¡°Easy boy, you''re a little too young to be invading another demon''s territory, and I am not one to go easy.¡± Surprisingly Mors¡¯ action caused Verz to smile. ¡°That¡¯s Kelora, a demoness who loves close quarters combat, fighting in general and a terrible cook who always burns her food.¡± ¡°FUCK!¡± shouted Kelora as she pulled the incinerated piece of meat off the fire. ¡°Why didn¡¯t you tell me sooner.¡± Ignoring the complaints of the demoness, Verz moved onto a slim, plain-faced woman holding onto a small green girl. Both of them were staring intently at Mors. ¡°That¡¯s Ethemeusa, the name is a bit of a mouthful, so most people call her Eth. She¡¯s a Lamia Matriarch and the huntsmen¡¯s mother figure. Her speciality is stealth and long ranged weapons. Eth is also in charge of the food and quarters at camp, so it¡¯s best not to get on her bad side.¡± The emerald green eyes starting directly made Mors feel extremely uncomfortable. ¡°Got a problem, snake.¡± Verz rolled her eyes as she asked herself why she bothered with trying to warn the demon. He was fearlessly standing up to her, so why would he cower in front of Kelora or Ethemeusa, beings that were two or three ranks below her in strength. A sudden thought came to her that maybe the boy''s instincts were not functioning correctly and he had no clue to how much stronger they were than him. ¡°Only that a particular demon doesn¡¯t know his place,¡± hissed Ethemeusa, her eyes narrowing menacingly. Mors hissed back. Where Ethemeusa¡¯s was similar to a snake''s, Mors¡¯ sounded like something emerging from the depths of hell. ¡°Keep staring, and I will turn you into a belt.¡± ¡°BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA.¡± Rock burst into laughter, falling backwards as he held his sides. ¡°I love this kid. It¡¯s like a smaller, less dangerous and funnier version of the captain. As I have to train the recruits, I want him in my group. ¡± Mors glared at Rock but decided to keep his mouth shut. Even if it felt better to let off some steam, he still needed these people and making enemies now would only make things difficult. In fact, he was still having issues processing the fact that the individuals in front of him weren¡¯t human as something deep down was telling him that it shouldn''t be possible. ¡°So what should we call the little demon?¡± asked Kelora as she started her third attempt at cooking something edible. One of the biggest problems with a group compromised from different races was the fact that their dietary requirements were all so different, so they rarely ate at the same time. ¡°My name is Mors Letum. You will call me Mors, not little demon. Wait, why do you keep calling me that?¡± replied Mors, suspicion slipping into his voice. Everyone looked at him as if he was stupid until Verz broke the awkward silence. ¡°It¡¯s because you¡¯re a demon¡­ well, a draconic demon.¡± ¡°I¡¯m a what?¡± ¡°You¡¯re a demon, haven''t you wondered why you have horns and a tail Well, the tail is a more to do with your dragon heritage,¡± replied Verz, amusement evident in her eyes. "You seemed to know so much I completely forgot your only three days old and should actually know nothing." Mors ignored the last bit. ¡°My what?¡± Mors was completely taken aback by this information, he never even considered himself anything other than human, even with the weird sensation like he could feel something attached to him at the base of his spine, the thought never occurred to him. Steadily as he could, he moved his hands to his head where he found two rough, scale-like horns, curled backwards and ending in an extremely sharp tip. Mors pressed the tip cutting his finger before bringing it down to investigate. A large droplet of red blood beaded on his finger before dropping off and hitting the floor, where it hissed violently, burning a small hole into the floor causing everyone to look. ¡°Well¡­ that¡¯s weird,¡± said Ethemeusa. ¡°Something tells me he is going to run through a fair amount of clothes and armour.¡± "We need to trick a vampire into drinking his blood. It would be hilarious," added Kelora. Mors didn''t hear them. He was overloaded with new information, and the shock of his new appendages completely threw him. Analysing his thick, black, crocodile-like tail, which vicious spikes protruding from the sides, Mors ignored the huntsmen. Noticing Mors¡¯ reluctance to talk anymore, the huntsmen began to converse amongst themselves, initially about him but it soon moved onto subjects like the logistics of the huntsmen or other borings subjects that Mors could not be bothered to pay attention to. Initially, he felt relief at not being pestered, but without the distraction he found his thoughts drifting back to much darker places. Shakily Mors stood up and started walking towards the edge of the clearing, drawing the attention of the huntsmen, especially Verz. ¡°I am going for a walk, I know you can track my presence so no need to follow, it''s not like.¡± The group looked at Verz who shrugged. No one could escape her team''s tracking ability, and they were relatively close to a village and Vonai''s borders so there shouldn''t be any dangerous monsters. "Shout if you need help." "If I did, I would have already screamed myself hoarse," muttered Mors as soon as he was out of earshot. BOM:Summoned - A new world - Chapter 8.1 The seemingly familiar, yet alien sound of night resonated around Mors as his heavy footsteps lead him deeper into the woods, away from the huntsmen. It wasn¡¯t long before the small amount of light from the camp¡¯s fire was completely lost as the trees enveloped him, leaving Mors in complete darkness due to the thick canopy and dark clouds that were blowing in from the east, blocking most of the light from the two moons. Not really paying attention to where he was going, Mors was deep in thought as he continued onwards. With each step he took, Mors felt like he was regaining some strength, his muscles stretching and repairing as his blood pumped through his body. Little did he know, or anyone else for that matter, that because of Mors'' outstanding heritage and soul, his body had almost unique regenerative properties, and in this mana rich environment, was recovering at a remarkable rate. In fact, the only creatures who naturally boasted a better healing ability were vampires and dragons, and that occurred only in the right conditions. This was the first moment that Mors had got any time to himself, in this lifetime at least, and as he thought about what had happened since his arrival in Acoria, the more questions he had. The memories of Verz had helped out to a large extent, showing him snippets of information about this world but other than that, and the few short memories of the airport, he knew nothing. Well, that wasn''t exactly right, he had a lot of knowledge about things he shouldn¡¯t know anything about, but it was always out of context and thus, extremely confusing for the young demon. None of that knowledge was presently helpful to him in the slightest. What Mors felt he really needed was power. The power to take control of his life and exact his revenge on those who had caused him so much pain and misery by initiating the events that led to his daughter''s soul being destroyed. ¡°I¡¯m weak,¡± spat Mors in disgust. The rage initially aimed at those who committed the summoning suddenly turned inwards as self-loathing hammered his mind. He might have been able to kill some of the Sun Clan¡¯s minions when he was born, but as the God of Death pointed out, that was due to external influences and were basically unrepeatable. Verz¡¯s memories had shown him what the true definition of strength was. Verz was considered one of the elite, but even she did not have a fraction of the strength of some of the true powerhouses lurking in this world. This made Mors feel incredibly stupid and arrogant having had openly declared, in front of god and mortal alike, that he would destroy the Sun Clan and all those who stood with them. ¡°How could I have been so full of myself when I don''t even know what I am,¡± muttered Mors as he kicked a log into the distance, barely feeling the impact on his bare feet. Mors remembered something else from one of Verz¡¯s memories, the ranking system that this world was built on. In Acoria, a person¡¯s worth was often intrinsically linked to their strength, which was incredibly difficult to gauge due to the wide variety of species, variants and the presence of magic. To make things easier, a ranking system had been introduced using a particular type of crystal that measured every attribute of a person''s being, revealing an average result that could be grouped. This was later combined with the status stone, another invention that enabled one to see their skills and abilities as well as other miscellaneous bits of information. The highest level of this system was divided into realms, with the first level of the next realm being roughly four times the value of the highest previous one. Within each of these realms, there were collections of ranks, each holding a unique title, which in turn were divided up into collections called stars. Each rank held five stars. The stars descended in rank, with the fifth star being the weakest and the first, the pinnacle of that collection and the bottleneck for those wanting to progress. The realms were commonly referred to as Copper, Bronze, Silver, Gold and Diamond. The copper realm was the lowest of the realms but also was the fastest to progress through. The majority of non-combatants remained in this realm throughout their lives. Those with Jobs like blacksmith and carpenter were often at the Squire rank whereas town guards or militia were around the Armiger level. Those who wanted to become soldiers or adventurers aimed to reach the Knight rank.Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.
Copper Realm
Common Squire Armiger Vassal Knight
When someone reached the pinnacle of the Knight rank, also known as a pinnacle copper or a one-star knight, they were often headhunted by the various organisations looking for talent, including the huntsmen, although the huntsmen were extremely selective in their backgrounds and rejected huge numbers of potential applicants The second Realm, Bronze, was considered the starting point for all those setting out to acquire strength and power.
Bronze Realm
Baron/Baroness Viscount/Viscountess Count/Countess Marquess/Marchioness
Although this was considered the starting block, this realm contained over 80% of the world''s strongest residents, which would have stunned those who existed before the great cataclysm significantly. Back then, even their newly born offspring could attain this rank in a few years. As one of the world''s elite fighting forces, the huntsmen''s troops were situated at the top of this realm, with Verz being the strongest, at the level of a one-star Marchioness. Although the Sun Clan had more members, they were considerably weaker, hovering around the Baron/Viscount level, and so had to rely on more indirect means when the two sides clashed.
Silver
Duke/Duchess Grand Duke/Grand Duchess Archduke/Archduchess Viceroy/Vicereine
It was considered exceedingly rare for one to reach the silver realm, and in acknowledgement of this achievement, as well as to warn anyone within earshot not to do anything foolish, anyone who entered this realm or above, would be addressed by their rank and not their name. For one to reach the gold realm was almost unheard of in recent history, and was heavily polluted by the feudal systems that many of the countries had adopted to try and vaguely link their monarchy with these almost mythical existences.
Gold Realm
Prince/Princess Regent King/Queen Emperor Imperator
There were around fifty known beings who had reached the silver rank in the last two hundred years, with only twenty of them making it to the gold realm, showing just how hard it was to attain. The last realm was reserved for those on the boundary of becoming gods. Beings whose very presence could change the world, both its direction and its literal shape. It was widely accepted that it was impossible to get to this realm and that only those with the pure bloodlines of old, that had been diluted millennia ago, had even the slimmest of chances.
Diamond Realm
Spectral Divine Deity
Mors let out a sigh as he stepped over a fallen tree.This world is sure complicated. BOM:Summoned - A new world - Chapter 8.2 In a dark, vast expanse of forest, close to the north-east mountains of the Antaeth basin, Mors continued to walk without purpose as he analysed everything he had learnt since being summoned to Acoria. It seemed that the ranking system of Acoria had other uses than just displaying an individual''s strength. Combined with the status plate, a person¡¯s rank could also be used to gauge the extent of their potential, abilities and lifespan. When a practitioner levelled up, not only would their base skills and abilities be improved, but their lifespan would increase. This was mainly down to their mana core being able to process and refine the natural mana around them much more efficiently. The amount that their vitality would increase was affected by their current realm and rank. As to be expected, this meant that although it was much harder to progress at the higher levels, the benefits were significantly increased. A common rumour was that when one levelled up into the silver realm, hundreds if not thousands of years would be added to their lifespan making cultivation extremely appealing to those who feared their mortality. However this did not mean that an individual''s body would become invincible, in fact, the opposite was true. In order to use the empowered skills and abilities without harming themselves, a practitioner would need to circulate the mana converted from their mana cores, creating a barrier around their cells to protect them from the increased strain placed upon their bodies. At the lower realms, anything below a mid-level Bronze, this was completely unnoticeable, but in the later stages, it was not uncommon for individuals to seriously harm or kill themselves when activating high-level abilities. This over-reliance on mana often caused the body to weaken over time as it no longer needed to work as hard, and thus when caught by surprise, asleep or otherwise distracted, even the strongest beings could be killed easily. The only exception to this was naturally strong or artificially enhanced bodies, for example, a rock elemental would always have the skin texture and attributes of rock, while a human would always have the skin and bone density of a human. This often meant that although the ranking system was fair for all, it was an individual''s heritage that could give them an advantage over others, not just regarding skills or abilities, but in raw strength, agility and survivability. This led to large amounts of discrimination between species, with the naturally stronger ones often taking vital roles in society and oppressing those they deemed inferior. Not only could the ranking system be abused in this way, but it was also pretty inaccurate when identifying someone''s combat ability as it was an average of everything that represented that person. This meant that although two practitioners were of the same rank and realm, the difference between them could be as vast as heaven and earth. For example, an incredibly smart person with high IQ and attention to detail but pathetically weak could have the same rank as someone who is extremely powerful but ignorant. As a general rule, people tended to treat the ranking system as a way to identify how much of a threat someone was as well estimate their potential social status, so they knew how to act around them. Mors rubbed his temples. What does it matter? The only thing I have in this life is revenge. I have no family, no friends, nothing. If what the huntsmen were talking about when I left was true, there isn''t even anyone who is the same as me. With his incredible knowledge and thought processes, it was easy to forget that Mors had only existed for three days. His partial memories, vast general knowledge and ability to think logically, were the first symptoms of his soul evolving after coming into contact with this world''s mana, in addition to the two powerful bloodlines that coursed through his veins. However, he was still a child, and his emotions ran rampant as he struggled to come to terms with his new reality. Mors'' steps paused as he fought the depression that threatened to overwhelm him. Looking around for something to distract himself with, he realised that, even though the clouds were blocking out most of the light, he could see clearly. Not only that but now he was paying attention, Mors realised that every creature above a certain size could be seen by red, glowing arteries as blood was pumped out of its heart. A gentle breeze rustled the leaves as Mors took a deep breath, watching a snake slither around under the leaf litter with his strange skill. I really am a monster. The thought caused Mors to shudder as his heartbeat quickened in excitement at his discovery. The realisation that he was no longer human filled him with an extreme sense of joy. I am a new hybrid species and not bound by fate. After I have destroyed the Sun Clan, I will travel around this new world and experience everything it has to offer.The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation. The sound of running water woke Mors from his thoughts and, without a moment''s hesitation, he followed the noise until he came across a small stream. Tiny, rodent-like creatures scurried around the four foot high, glowing mushrooms that littered the edges of the brook. After watching the animals for over half an hour, Mors decided that the glowing plants were not dangerous and decided to move towards the edge of the stream before looking into it. Reflecting back with the help of the mysterious plants light, a young boy with sharp facial features stared back with menacing, red reptilian eyes. Sticking out from his short, white, dishevelled hair were two small, jet black horns curving backwards, adorned with a scale-like pattern. Mors¡¯ skin was only a few shades darker than his hair and small red and blue, probably arteries and veins crisscrossed his skin making him seem as if it was extremely fragile and delicate. ¡°I don¡¯t really understand why that green girl keeps looking at me like I am something from her worst nightmares. Although a little¡­ intimidating, I think I look pretty average. Well, for a demonic dragon anyway.¡± Sitting down and leaning back on one of the glowing mushrooms, Mors watched the animals become accustomed to his presence and restart their nocturnal activities. After a while, Mors started playing with what Verz called, his aura. At first, it was extremely hard to control due to the need for him to think about something that would anger him. As his life had been so short, the only instance he could think of was the events that transpired in the cave. The aura generated from this caused the surrounding animals to flee in every direction, some even falling into the stream and getting washed away in their panic to escape. It was a slow process as Mors had to wait for the animals to calm down and return before he could try something else. Eventually, Mors had worked out the fundamentals of his strange, at least to him, ability. Verz appeared to be wrong in her earlier advice as it had nothing to do with Mors¡¯ emotions but seemed to be controlled by his thoughts. On the surface, this seemed to be a minor discovery. However, it was incredibly significant. Mors'' ability would only be triggered by thinking dark, violent thoughts, with the greater the intent and detail, the stronger the effect. Mors sighed, already spotting a huge flaw in this ability. Due to it being based on his thoughts, without significant training, it would be almost impossible to launch a surprise attack. His aura alerting everyone to his presence and intent, the moment he started thinking hostile thoughts. Mors loosely linked his ability to the concept of bloodlust, without the emotional investment, as he tried to think of ways around this crippling handicap. Due to his limited knowledge of Acoria, Mors did not know that his aura, compared to others, was completely different and unique. Mors'' aura was actually the melding of his two, tyrannical bloodlines, triggering other species innate instincts, ones honed and developed over multiple millennia through natural selection, to sense the incredible danger that he represented. Dragons had a similar aura which could be felt when one was in their presence while a demon''s aura was more intrinsically linked to their emotions and thoughts. Due to this, even though they had long since evolved beyond the mindless, killing machines that their ancestors were, both demons and dragons had been persecuted to the point of extinction. As Mors played with his ability, killing more than one animal with the stress caused by feeling such intense fear, he heard loud, echoing drum beats in the distance. Subconsciously, he had been trying to distract himself, but the stream and its occupants were becoming annoying. Wondering if the drum beats signified either a battle or a celebration, Mors jumped up and started walking towards the noise when he came to an abrupt stop. ¡°Everything I know about this world is that self-proclaimed god and dog-eared woman who strangely has the same agenda as each other¡­ What if they are working together and I have been tricked somehow. I need more information.¡± ¡°How could I have been so naive to trust people I don¡¯t even know. Everything I have experienced up until this point could have been fabricated... This whole thing could have been set up." Paranoia struck Mors as he realised he had accepted everything at face value and suddenly felt like he was being manipulated. It''s extremely convenient for the Sun Clan to summon my daughter, a single soul out of millions of people. Then to have a ''gods'' involvement as well as a fated meeting with someone who just happened to want revenge on the same people I do. But they said fate did not control me... how would they know I would be summoned if that was the case? How would they know where to be and at what time? Mors'' reptilian pupils sharpened as his eyes started glowing ominously. "I think it''s time I went and gathered some information. If I find out I have been fooled, not only will the Sun Clan be erased from this world''s history, but the huntsmen and that so called God will suffer the same fate." Mors starts running towards the tribalistic noise; impatience etched on his face. Once again, information appears in his mind from nowhere, enabling him to slowly mask his presence as he attempts to blend in with the shadows, not wanting to alert the huntsmen to his new destination. After a couple of meters, Mors feels a warm, tingling sensation wash over him as he fades from sight, moving at an incredible speed. In a matter of minutes, due to the strange shadow melding skill, Mors had travelled over thirty miles, reappearing on the outskirts of a small village that seemed to be having some sort of festival or celebration. A triumphant smile grew on Mors'' face as his stomach let out a growl. "Something smells delicious." BOM:Summoned - A new world - Chapter 9.1 The wind rustled through the forest''s thick canopy, sending leaves spiralling gracefully to the ground, as a steady, tribalistic drum beat emanated deep into the woods, originating from a small medieval-style village in the centre of a clearing. Along the dirt road that exited the village, long, wooden tables were arranged in a haphazard manner, adorned with a wide variety of food and drink, as villagers wandered between them, talking, laughing, with a few even crying as they are comforted by others. Toward the edge of the clearing, still covered by the dense underbrush, the figure of a young, white-haired boy solidified from the shadows before falling to his knees, panting heavily. Shaking his head in an attempt to dispell the disorientation caused by his new skill, Mors spat on the floor and looked around. "I... am not doing that again." Unbeknown to Mors, mainly because he was still too ignorant of this world and that he lacked a status stone, Mors had just discovered his first ''learnt'' skill, Shadow Step. The aftereffects he was currently suffering, disorientation, nausea and impaired thinking, was due to its first-time use, never having activated an ability before and that his body was still in an incredibly weakened state. It was not much of an exaggeration to say that if he had remained in his shadow state for a few extra minutes, that his life would have been in danger. Standing up and walking stiffly to a large tree in front of him, Mors peered out into the clearing, his gaze being instantly drawn to a large hog roast as his stomach let out a deep rumbling. "Oh, I haven''t eaten since... well, ever." Trying to ignore his hunger, Mors scanned the villagers in front of him, noting that the guards that were patrolling the area walked with clear, purposeful movements and were constantly surveying their surroundings as well as other signs that they had experienced multiple life and death situations. Listening to his gut feeling, Mors decided that he was not strong enough to confront them directly and that in order to liberate some food and information, he would need to do it stealthily. As Mors was salivating at the thought of devouring as much food as he could, the deep, raspy voice of an old woman attracted his attention. A group of children, ranging from five to fifteen, were sitting just to the right of Mors''s hiding place, engrossed in what appeared to be some sort of lesson. Ignoring the tantalising smell floating on the wind, Mors remembered his original objective and crept closer to discover if the lesson was on a subject worth his attention.Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel. It was a slow process as Mors had to constantly freeze when the guards looked in his direction as they did their rounds. Although they were drinking along with the villagers, it seemed the guards were still prepared to respond to any danger, sometimes giving off a faint, bloodthirsty aura. When Mors reached the group, he realised the children were being given some sort of history lesson and settled down to listen as two guards, with greying hair, walked over to the old woman, who was dressed in a dark-golden dress and had many colourful rings adorning her wrinkled hands. The woman cleared her throat as one of the guards passed her a drink and whispered something in her ear nonchalantly, causing her to laugh, telling him to sit down and enjoy the show. As one of the guards sat with the kids, the other loitered close to the forest edge, leaning heavily on his spear with a tired expression, the woman continued her lecture. "Right, so where was I? Oh yes, I was telling you about when our glorious kingdom was at peril from the combined efforts of heathens and the demonic horde, before the Sacred Temple, in all it''s divine glory, came to our aid, providing knowledge, holy artefacts and the support of their sacred army." And my first source of information is a religious zealot... great, thought Mors as his left eye subconsciously twitched and he exhaled in irritation. The old woman became animated as she continued talking, using sweeping gestures to emphasise her words. "After the Sacred Temple''s army defeated the demon invasion and purged their sympathisers, they helped us reclaim the Trekan pass fortress, making vast improvements to both its offensive and defensive capabilities, ensuring that the demons would never be able to threaten our great nation again. With that, Vonai''s great army was victorious and showed the world that the human race is not to be trifled with." The children clapped and cheered, a few thanking the Goddess of Light and the Sacred Temple for their mercy and protection, as they became excited and shuffled forward to get closer to the woman. A ridiculing smile crept upon Mors'' face as he was about to move away, muttering something about indoctrination and the curse of religion, when the woman''s next sentence caused him to stop and turn back. "As the mighty heroes of Vonai and the Sacred Temple executed five of the great demon lords, including the Lord of Wrath, the horde dissolved and was quickly exterminated, dealing them a crippling blow which their species will probably never recover from. Because of this single war, demons were declared an endangered species, one that is hated and despised by all that is holy. As the Goddess of Light teaches mercy, the Demonic Plains were set aside for them as a reservation," said the woman, apparently annoyed that the demons were given a safe haven. "So why did Uncle Drake have to die," whimpered a small girl as she pointed to a wrapped body lying on top of a wooden funeral pyre on the opposite side of the clearing. "He was only guarding the fortress and didn''t do anything to the demons." "That," spoke the woman, in a cold, hate-filled voice, "is because the demons see our act of mercy as a sign of weakness, refusing to stay in that wasteland that is already too good for them." BOM:Summoned - A new world - Chapter 9.2 Crouching in the bushes, Mors felt his face cramp as his lips curl, revealing a sinister snarl. Not understanding why the woman''s words irritated him so much, Mors took a calming breath and leant against a tree. I wonder if that old hag would be this brazen if she knew a demon was a couple of dozen metres away. So far, apart from the different races and magic, this world seems just as fucked up as my old one. A teenage boy shouted out, distracting Mors from his thoughts. "Priestess, what''s the difference between a Demon Lord and a demon? Are they just a demon''s with high social status?" The old woman hesitated as if waiting for something, before chuckling and shaking her head with an amused expression as her eyes flickered across the forest to her side. "A demon can evolve into a Demon Lord after completing requirements dictated by their primary sin. Due to how stringent the prerequisites for evolution are, Demon Lords are extremely rare. Although demons are cruel and sadistic by nature, turning away from the goddess of lights teachings, they have enough intelligence to be of use to society in some, limited, cases, and only in small numbers. Mostly in a kingdom''s army or the adventure''s guild, where their brutality can be put to good use. A Demon Lor-" "If they are so rare, why were there so many of them during the Third Demonic War?" interrupted the boy, clearly irritating the old woman. Mors frowned, not minding the interruption as he tried to make sense of what he was hearing. Evolution? I vaguely remember some bits in Verz''s memories about how some species can evolve as they grow, modifying their base characteristics and abilities but I didn''t know demons were one of the species that could do it. It seems I have a lot to learn. Glaring at the boy, the priestess continued. "The Third Demonic War, also know as the Trial of Man, was initially caused by the Demon Lord of Greed, wanting to secure the most fertile, safe lands for his... tribe. Joining forces with Pride, they formed a vast demonic horde and invaded our kingdom via the Trekan pass. For three weeks our troops fought valiantly, repelling the demons, however, their numbers were too great, and our forces in the region were slowly pushed back and on the brink of annihilation." Even though they had heard this story many times, especially when one of their own had fallen at the fortress, the children had gone silent as they followed every word with rapt attention. "Just as the fortress was about to fall, the Demon Lord of Envy joined the battle, not wanting to be excluded from the spoils of war, and was quickly followed by the Demon Lord of Lust, who was trying to impress her. With the new forces, the Trekan fortress fell in a matter of hours, and demons flooded into the Antaeth basin, killing everyone before them. It was at our mighty city of Alzor, humanities bastion of hope, that the demon horde finally stalled, and as I mentioned earlier, with the intervention of the Sacred Temple, may the goddess of light bless them, our heroes killed the Lords of Greed and Envy. " "Little did we know that with that simple, righteous act, we had invited a greater calamity upon ourselves. Pride escaped the extermination that followed and returned to the demon city of Halen, where the remaining Demon Lords resided and presented Wrath with Envy''s severed head," the priestess paused as if she remembered something painful. "Fifty years later, at the sacrifice of hundreds of thousands of Imperial, Federation, Vonaian and Sacred Temple troops and countless innocents, the Demon Lord of Wrath and the four remaining lords were executed, and their clans purged down to the last imp. Wrath''s vengeance was so extreme and merciless, destroying his own kind as much as ours, that since that day, demon nobles have taken it upon themselves to purge any of their young born with the sin of wrath." This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.The silence was deafening as she finished, Mors frowning deep in thought. Great, not only am I a demon, something that is hated in this world, if what Grim told me is correct, I am a demon of Wrath. I need to get out of here." Mors had heard enough. It was clear that these people had nothing but hatred for his kind and to make matters worse, if what Grim told him was correct, his sin was wrath. Even though the food smells delicious, I think it''s time to leave. I doubt I will learn anything else here. "It seems that our guest''s patience has finally run out. I am surprised you did not react to my provocations and are going to sulk away into the shadows like a beaten dog. With the stench of blood and death on you, I expected someone a little more... hot blooded," laughed the woman as she stared in the direction of Mors. Mors held his breath as he focused his senses. It was extremely faint, almost unnoticeable, but he could hear over ten heartbeats surrounding him. Looking across the clearing, Mors noticed that most of the guards were missing and the villagers all seemed to be looking in his direction, small weapons and glowing lights appearing in their hands. Realising his stupidity for thinking that, in a world full of magic and strange abilities, hiding in the shadows would conceal him, Mors closed his eyes and took a deep breath before standing up and walking forward. Stepping into the clearing, many of the children let out surprised squeals at Mors'' sudden appearance before running towards their parents. The guard who had been leaning lazily on his spear and the priestess didn''t even flinch, confirming his worst fears, that they had known he was here the entire time and were confident enough to deal with him without risking the children. Having already gauged the guard''s strength and having no idea how they found him, Mors tried to buy time while he thought of ways he could escape. "Ummm, I don''t suppose saying I was just passing and mean no harm is going to work?" "Nope," replied the old woman, an evil smile creeping on her lips. Not wanting to waste another second, Mors activated his new ability, turning into shadows and raced towards the forest. Just as he was about to enter the woods, he smashed into an invisible wall and was hurled back into the clearing. Golden light erupted around woman''s body, causing Mors'' hair to stand on end. "Looks like we have ourselves a demon who''s primary affinity is darkness and a pretty powerful one at that.... how lucky for us. It seems like this will be easier than expected." Mors stood up, spitting out a mouthful of blood that hissed on the floor, causing the lazy guard''s eyebrow to arch in surprise. "I warn you; if you plan to go through with this, you better make damn sure to kill me because if you don''t." Mors'' thoughts triggered his terrifying aura, causing shock to appear on everyone''s faces as the regular villagers grabbed the children and retreated. "I will slaughter every last one of you and raze this village to the ground." "You don''t have to tell us that demon." shouted the woman as she sent a golden spear hurtling towards Mors. "Capture him; we will purify his soul through sacred flames." BOM:Summoned - A new world - Chapter 9.3 "So be it." Mors let out a menacing laugh as he backflipped, dodging the golden spear easily before gracefully landing. Much to the horror of the villagers and priestess, Mors performed a small, mocking bow as he revealed a confident, unyielding smile. "Let me introduce myself, My name us Mors Letus, and I will be exterminating you on this fine evening. Don''t worry about being impolite and not telling me your names; I won''t remember them anyway." Mors'' actions, along with the spine-chilling aura that emanated from him caused the seasoned guards, many having served in the military, to swallow hard and grasp their weapons tightly as they took a few steps back. "Defiant to the end," shouted the priestess as she muttered something under her breath before the guards were surrounded by a warm, golden glow, removing the fear that was gnawing at their hearts. Seeing this Mors chuckled. He knew that the invisible barrier trapped him, the woman just cast some kind of spell to aid the guards and that they were much stronger than him but instead of fear, he felt elated. When facing a superior force in a hopeless situation, do everything in your power to sow the seeds of doubt and fear. Act without mercy, restraint and limits. The victor writes history. Never give up, never surrender. "Things are so much easier when there is only one choice. Kill or be killed, destroy or be destroyed. Survival of the fittest," chuckled the demon, his previous concerns and worries seeming incredibly insignificant. Four guards rushed towards Mors, thrusting their spears towards his limbs in an attempt to disable him. Their attack was executed with incredible teamwork and skill. However, Mors simply grabbed the tip of the fastest spear and lifted himself up out of the way of the others, before quickly spinning and using the vicious, black spikes on his tail to blind one of his assailants, disfiguring his face permanently. As the man let out a blood-curdling scream, Mors used both of his feet to smash into the face of the man behind him, propelling himself forward, towards the guard blocking his path. As Mors passed, his hand turned a sinister black, easily shredding the throat of the man with his newly transformed, claw-like fingers. "GET BACK," bellowed the priestess as she released another golden spear, accompanied by other, less impressive spikes of varying shades. "Have I not taught you fools anything? Do not engage a demon in close quarters. Push him back and cripple him from a distance." Hearing her shout, the uninjured guard grabbed his surviving two comrades and yanked them back, leaving Mors to suffer the barrage alone. The spells slammed into the floor, kicking up and illuminating the dust before an earth-shaking explosion, sent visible shockwaves outwards. Mors'' figure flew out of the dust, crashing onto the floor and rolling a couple of meters before immediately standing up. Shaking his head, Mors glared at the priestess only for his pupils to shrink as he saw yet another, much larger, volley about to rain down upon him. Leaving a trail of hissing blood, Mors'' body turned into shadows and raced towards the villagers crowding together.This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. I must keep close to them. I doubt I can survive being caught in another barrage. Me and my big mouth, maybe I should have left a way out for them instead of saying I would kill them all. Then again, it looks like their hatred goes beyond mere indoctrination. Instead of cowering, the adults in the group of villagers stepped forward and held out their palms, spikes of earth, water, fire and many Mors could not identify formed in front of them. Fuck I forgot this world was so dangerous that even non-combatants must attain a certain level to survive. Unable to turn quickly in his shadow form, Mors had to materialise and throw himself to the side as the villagers obliterated everything in front of them with their hastily conjured spells, including a few of the houses far behind Mors. As Mors hit the floor, a long, silver sword glinted in the firelight, causing him to dodge sideways. The sword smashed into the ground, cutting a long groove as one of the old guards, holding onto the monstrous blade, spat on the ground. "Vile demon, I shall avenge those that your kind has taken. For my dead wife and child, surrender to your fate." As he got to his feet, Mors tried to laugh as the thought of killing someone just because they were the same race as your families murders but a searing pain to the right of his chest caused him to look down, spotting the shaft of a black arrow sticking out of his chest. "When the hel-" His words were cut short as another arrow slammed into his shoulder, causing him to fly forward, barely managing to use his other arm to push himself so he could flip and land on his feet. "Strike two." Mor''s'' words confused the guard who was about to thrust a spear into his thigh long enough for Mors to spin, sweeping the guard''s legs with his tail and grabbing the spear. Throwing himself to the floor to avoid another arrow and the charge of the sword-wielding guard, Mors rolled to his feet and threw the spear with as much force as he could muster. Allowing himself to be hit with another arrow, disabling his left leg, so that he could get a clean shot, Mors shouted out triumphantly. "Strike three... you''re out." A high pitched, female scream erupted from the woods where Mors had thrown the spear. Moments later an archer emerged, clutching the spear embedded in her guts before falling to the ground, twitching. "EMILY!" The longsword guard enraged, appearing next to Mors and before the injured demon could react. Swiftly kicking down onto Mors'' right knee, shattering it, the man''s face twisted in rage. "DIE DEMON." Just as the sword was about to separate Mors'' head from his neck, strange, golden light stopped the man''s blade, small sparks fluttering downwards burning Mors'' skin. "Don''t be so foolish. If that demon has a curse on him, you will be killing yourself and your loved ones. You know the drill. We will purify him with water or fire... and as there is no water about, fire will have to do," spat the woman as her wrinkled face appeared in Mors'' vision, smiling menacingly. "For a demon, you''re weak." "Say that to your dead, you old hag," gurgled Mors, the arrow to his chest filling his lungs with blood, "and who said I am finished?" "I did," smiled the priestess evilly. "Break his arms and legs and secure him to a trunk by metal chains. Bring as much firewood and burning oil as you can." "With pleasure," said the guard as his foot slammed into Mor''s elbow, causing him to hiss in pain as it shattered. "It shouldn''t matter what he suffers as long as he is alive for the purification, right?" "Sure, go nuts... and please, don''t be gentle. My son died last month on the wall, and as a support type, this may be the only bit of vengeance I can claim," said the woman in a sorrowful voice as she walked away. "I will kill you," muttered Mors, grinding his teeth as the guard smashed his other knee cap. "I am not one to forgive, nor will I forget." The guard chuckled grimly, no mirth on his face. "That all you got demon? Words? You do not scare me. You will be dead soon, along with those that you have murdered." Looking into Mors'' eyes, the man''s breath caught in his throat as the crippled demon evilly smiled as he thought about Grim''s words. "We shall see human; we shall see." Notice Hi Guys, Sorry, I have been awol this week. The company I was working for has gone bust. Unfortunately,that did this a third of the way through a working month and, due to there being no money, let alone this month''s wages, redundancy pay is not even an option (from them). With twins on the way, a mortgage to pay and having to eat, writing BOM is going to be taking a back seat at the moment. After next week I plan to do, single weekly releases of complete chapters (if I can).Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. Let me reassure you that I have no intention, what so ever, to drop this book/series. When I get a moment, I am going to set up a twitter account (as requested) for updates to BOM/when I am in draft/final/etc. Thank you for your patience and understanding :) Skada88 BOM:Summoned - A new world - Chapter 10 The old guard smiled mercilessly as he smashed his armoured boot into Mors left arm, breaking the last of his limbs, completely incapacitating him, causing Mors to cough a spray of dark red blood high into the air as he winced in pain. "For a being that''s so weak, you''re quite a tough one. I expected more from a reptilian demon who had managed to get past the fortress and across the border." The priestess, who had just returned from comforting some grieving relatives, swept a strand greying hair off her face as her eyebrow arched in surprise at Mors'' resilience to pain and nonchalant demeanour at his impending doom. Demons would usually beg, or more commonly threaten, for their lives at this point; however, the young imp in front of her looked even more defiant and unyielding, his eyes simmering with hatred and killing intent. This attitude infuriated the priestess, and she tried once again to elicit a standard demonic response out of him in an attempt to calm the gnawing feeling that something was seriously wrong. "Time for your final walk demon. Ah, you can''t walk, can you? As that''s the case, let my friend help you." A young guard, his youthful face barely old enough to be marred with stubble, stepped forward and wrapped a hemp rope around Mors'' neck and started dragging him along the dirt path, towards the centre of the village. In a small clearing outside what appeared to be the village''s church, the remaining guards were hauling a large wooden stake into place and piling wood around it in a haphazard, rushed manner. Villagers, including the children, hurriedly brought as much firewood and jars full of oil as they could, wanting to kill the demon, that threatened their village and had killed their friends and family, as quickly as possible. Being such a small village, with a population of a hundred and three, each loss tonight was devastating. The men that had died were the backbone and support of the community and more importantly, their families. Many of the villagers did not understand the priestess''s reluctance to kill the demon immediately but knew that she must have a reason, especially when she said something about a curse. The rough rope around Mors''s neck dug into his flesh, tearing skin and drawing blood, that lightly hissed as it started to dissolve both his skin and the rope. After a couple of metres, the rope tightened, suffocating Mors, causing his vision to flicker as the villagers that were not helping the guards, gained enough courage to crowd around him. It started out with a single shout of hatred but soon turned into a full-blown attack as the villagers released their pent up fury for those they lost and the pains they had faced at the hands of demons. "Filthy demon. Why have you come to our peaceful village," screamed one woman as she threw a clod of dirt, barely missing Mor''s face. A young boy, no older than fifteen appeared in the crowd and used a long wooden spear to pierce Mors'' leg before being dragged away by an older woman. "YOU KILLED MY FATHER. I HOPE THE GOD OF DEATH DEVOURS YOUR SOUL." "How many must be murdered before your kin are happy?¡± hissed one of the villagers as they threw a large stone, hitting Mors in the stomach. ¡°It''s a joke that demons survived the Great Cataclysm. Demons should join the devils and dragons in extinction.¡± shouted another as he spat on Mors and delivered a crushing kick to his chest, causing the demon to hiss in anger. A lump of manure smashed into Mors'' head, causing it to flick to the side and as he tried to focus, he caught sight of the rapidly forming pyre and felt his blood run cold as vague memories started to force their way to the forefront of his mind. As if coming from the bottom of a deep well, chants of "Burn the Witch," started to get louder and louder as medieval-clothed, peasant phantoms started appearing around him, their faces twisted in a similar, hate filled rage to that of the villagers. Locking his jaw, so he didn''t scream out, Mors'' skin erupted in pain as it felt like he was burning and the phantoms face''s warped from hatred to sickening joy. Even though the lack of oxygen was making his vision blurry, when he looked down he could not see anything on his body apart from the injuries suffered during his fight with the guards confusing him greatly. In his weakened, air deprived state, Mors started to lose control of his emotions and deeply repressed fears, those of being trapped and powerless, started to well up, overwhelming his senses, causing him to start hyperventilating. Thinking that their actions were the cause of the demon''s apparent despair, the villagers were further encouraged and became more brutal with their assault. It wasn''t long before the guard was forced to step in to ensure Mors did not die prematurely, but not before a branch smashed into the side of Mors'' head, knocking him unconscious. Rough, splintered wood gouged Mors'' legs as he was dragged across a wooden platform and dumped unceremoniously in front of a large wooden block covered in thick, congealing blood. Looking up, Mors gazed into the emotionless eyes of a black-hooded individual, his uncovered mouth twisting into a grim, morbid smile.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. Seeing the large, blunt axe in the man''s hands, Mors felt himself smile, and words that he had no intention of uttering came from his mouth. "Not very grand for a king is it?" Suddenly, a pair of large, rough hands grabbed him from behind and forced his head onto the block as the hooded man got into position, his crooked smile growing. "Good enough for the likes of you." Like a deafening drum, Mors'' heart pounded in his ears before the whistling of the axe drowned it out and, with a dull thud, the world started to spin. As his view span, the scene before him blurred and Mors found himself standing in a dark, dank alley as rats scurried past him, deciding he was less of a danger than the group of seven men approaching with long, curved knives drawn. "So this is how it ends? Betrayal? HA. I would have thought that as a brother of the faith, you would have had the guts to challenge me with their heads held high." The sandstone walls on either side did little to hide the filth that had built up through years of neglect as a prayer bell rang in the distance, and a deep, rhythmic chant rang out across the sleeping city. "Sorry, but this is the way it is. Did you really think that your actions would not have any consequences?" said the leading figure, wearing an impeccably white tunic with a red cross fluttering in the light breeze. "Your policy of live and let live was tolerated until now because of your achievements and impressive skills but the war is over. We have won, and Jerusalem is ours." "You think that this is over. Ha, you should-" The words that were not Mor''s own, were cut short by an intense burning pain in his chest as a hot, wet feeling flooded downwards, and as he looked, a large metal spike stuck out of his chest. "Brought more men? " laughed the figure. "Hell if it was a fair fight, I doubt there are enough men in this world to take you on. You have always been a monster, it just took the death of Roslin for you to show your true colours and give me the excuse to remove you. Hopefully, your death will alleviate some of the sins I have acquired in these accursed holy lands." Mors'' world shook at the mention of the name, and before he realised it, he was standing in the midst of seven, mangled bodies looking down upon the man who he was just talking with. "You shouldn''t have mentioned that name... brother." As his life essence seeped out, Mors felt himself fall to the floor and was once again greeted by a different, but equally gruesome scene. The visions of death, through betrayal, bigotry, injustice, revenge and many other reasons continued for what seemed like an eternity. When Mors finally regained consciousness, he raised his head saw a familiar face. The old guard, who was casually chewing on a lump of dried meat, froze in terror as their eyes met, and subconsciously took a few steps backwards as if he was standing in front of a monster that was about to devour his soul. Earlier when Mors had released his aura, the guards were cautious of him, some of the weaker ones feeling the slight sense of fear but that was nothing compared what the guard felt looking into his eyes. As the priestess lectured the rest of the village on the demons and how they must always be prepared to make the ultimate sacrifice, the old guard, who was tasked with keeping an eye on Mors, backed away until he was in the shadows of one of the houses. Swallowing hard, as silently as he could, the man turned and started running with all his might, quickly disappearing into the woods. It had been a long time since he had lost his family and it was only the familiarity of the village, as well as having nowhere else to go that had kept him there but even still, that was not why he ran. He had seen those eyes before, dozens of years ago as he aided in a demon subjugation in the Northen Demonic Plains that when horribly wrong when they stumbled across an ancient, slumbering dragon. Tripping over a fallen tree and falling face first into the dirt, the man quickly got back to his feet and started running. "It can''t be true, it can''t be true, it can''t be true," muttered the man through ragged breaths as he ran without purpose. "Those bloodlines can''t mix... but if they have... and they burn him... no, it can''t be true." Not noticing the old guard''s escape, the priestess continued her speech. "... and that is why, children of the light, though we have sacrificed much tonight, it is all for the greater good. Tonight we shall cleanse another demon. An abomination that, if allowed to grow, would kill much, much more. To the souls that gave everything this evening, the Goddess of Light will reward them," shouted the woman with fanatical fervour as she raised her hands to the sky. As she lowered them, she felt a cold, haunting gaze fall on her back, causing her to laugh. "How nice of you to wake up. It is time to face your death." Mors released a malicious, terrifying laugh that caused the villager''s hair to stand on end. Slowly turning around, the priestess visibly paled when she met Mors'' gaze. "You have lost demon. Give up," said the priestess, not able to hide the tremble in her voice, as a golden flame formed in our outstretched arms. "Lost?" Insanity danced in Mors rapidly dilating eyes as blood ran down the side of his mouth. Having relived the moment of death over a thousand times, most being extremely brutal in the emotional of physical sense, death had lost its meaning to Mors. "Death..." Mors vomited a significant amount of blood, hitting the wood in front of him as a maddened smile appeared on his face, and he burst into broken laughter. "I think it''s time you learnt the true meaning of death." The pain, memories and instincts of Mors'' new heritage suddenly merged together, collapsing the last restraints of his humanity, causing his murderous, tyrannical aura to skyrocket, sending all of the animals withing a few miles scurrying for safety as a few of the weaker villagers fainted from the sudden fright. "I told you to kill me when you had the chance." BOM:Summoned - A new world - Chapter 10.1 As Mors'' tyrannical aura swept over the villagers, sending a cold chill down their spines, the priestess locked her jaw and stepped forward. As someone who was at the peak of the copper realm and respected as a leading power in this, and the surrounding villages, how could she allow her reputation to be tarnished by a crippled demon on the verge of death? After taking a few moments to compose herself, the priestess'' voice rang out in a calm and collected manner, as she cast a defensive spell that covered the villagers in a warm golden light. "Do you think your pathetical parlour tricks can scare us, demon? We are followers of the Goddess of light and thus, our resolve is stronger than you could even imagine. There is nothing you can do to postpone your execution. Give up and accept your fate." The woman''s spell, along with her confident words reassured a lot of the villagers and, as the few that had fainted were carried back to their homes, they started shouting out in support of the priestess, condemning Mors for being foolish enough to try and intimidate them and tarnish their Goddess'' name. As the villager''s shouts steadily intensified, mainly to reassure each other that they were safe and in control, Mors sniggered and coldly replied. "I have seen and committed terrible acts in the name of many gods, and I highly doubt any of them were sanctified or even endorsed. Spare me your pathetic excuses and finger pointing and get on with it." As the priestess''s face went crimson in anger, an ancient, overbearing yet familiar voice echoed in Mors'' head. "Well, you''re half right. Elathe despises the atrocities done in her name and goes out of her way to make sure those responsible are reincarnated into lesser beings, but not all Gods are like that." A wicked smile crept on Mors'' face causing the villagers shouts to falter as they collectively swallowed at the demons fearlessness. I have been expecting you, oh great God of Death. "But I wasn''t expecting this," chuckled the voice. "After having this role for so many aeons, I had given up listening to the stories of the dead as they pass through limbo but can you imagine my surprise when I overheard that a reptilian-eyed, demon boy had been killing guards at some remote village not far from the place I had just visited. Thinking I better check that you were not distorting the balance too much, I find you beaten to a pulp, chained to a stake and about to be executed by a bunch of fanatical zealots," chuckled the voice, clearly amused with the situation. What can I say... I seem to be quite popular for some reason. Now although I have an inkling, why don''t we stop with the pleasantries and you tell me what brings Death himself to my humble skull? "Seems like you have regained some of your memories and... humour," replied Grim. "I have to say, the few that I saw were relatively amus-" Lost in his own world, Mors did not notice both the priestess and the villagers taking a step back, their faces paled and were covered in a light sweat as his emotions instantly darkened. Realising his mistake, Grim let out a tired sigh. "Death, pain, loss. These do not epitomise life. They are only a small part of something that is much, much larger. When you regain your other memories that are linked with... nicer emotions, you will feel much better. Urg, talking to you mortals, even one as old as yourself always gives me, what you would call, a headache." Get to the point before I set myself on fire and come ''visit'' you personally. The voice chuckled. ¡°Now that you have started to regain your memories and unlock the power of your soul, I will pass, but thanks for the offer. Cernunnos would have loved to make you her apostle. You''re literally willing to go to hell in order to hunt down anyone or thing that angers you. A bit childish, but at least you¡¯re honest and comfortable with what you are." Noticing Mors'' rapidly decreasing patience, Grim decided to get to the point. "Well, seeing as you were about to run off and abandon our deal, I guess this was a good chance to give you a helping hand and by doing so, earn your trust. Not that it really matters but gauging by your past lives, you hate being indebted, and once someone earns your loyalty, then until they do something that you interpret as betrayal, you will never go against them, which is exactly what I need." "I will awaken your second affinity and your three bloodlines. Typically you would need to wait until you evolve, meet the requirements and acquire the needed strength before you unlock them, but you seem to have got yourself into quite the predicament and it''s come to an all or nothing gamble. To survive the flames imbued with light energy, I must awaken your secondary affinity, fire, and your draconic bloodline. To heal you so that you will not remain a cripple until you evolve, I must awaken the angelic heritage. And to ensure that you survive, as I doubt you will leave before this village has been crushed into the dirt and every soul, innocent or not, has been sent to the afterlife; I will awaken your devil bloodline." "BUT, I must warn you. This will be the most painful event in all of your lives combined. I have faith in your soul''s power to keep you from becoming completely insane but if you do and spiral out of control, know that the Gods will be forced to act and you will be imprisoned in a soulstone." There was a pause, in which Mors took the chance to interrupt. What¡¯s in it for you, apart from gaining a ''lap dog''. I doubt I am that much of a prize no matter how much you try to flatter me. Grim laughed. ¡°Not even flinching at the threat of pain and eternal imprisonment. Forget Cernunnos; Bellona would start an eternal war to get you on side... looks like for my first apostle, even if it was forced, I truly lucked out."Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author. Mors noticed vague movement in his vision but ignored it as Grim continued. "Although the woman called Verz has become something I despise, she has lived a good life, and I owe her clan for¡­ favours in the past. You will become her apprentice, and then inherit the Moon Clan''s abilities, giving her peace of mind, as well as aid her in her tasks until her body finally returns to the earth in which it escaped.¡± Hmm, from our last meeting, I thought I was the ¡®important¡¯ one, reflected Mors, but it seems like you are putting more emphasis on Verz this time round. ¡°You?¡± Humour was evident in Grim''s voice but also a hint of irritation. ¡°Initially I thought that I could¡­ control you by giving you a purpose, an agenda, but it has only been a short time and judging by your thoughts and actions, it¡¯s clear that you will follow no one¡¯s path but your own. You''re an enigma that should not exist and are not chained by fate. Even though they go against my policies, the Sun Clan¡¯s actions at summoning were preordained by... certain gods, and those chosen, including your daughter, had parts to play in the grand scheme. Even me deciding to wipe the Sun Clan out due to their actions was something set by fate.¡± "You are not the hero, a villain or even a side character in the grand play that is this world''s destiny. You are an error, an anomaly that should not exist. The only reason your continued existence is allowed is that in all honesty, not even us gods can destroy a soul as old and as powerful as yours. If we were to try, you would likely fully awaken and bring our dimension to ruin. Initially, I thought about imprisoning your soul like that damned female, but after taking a brief glance at your previous lives, I realised I would me making an eternal enemy and one that would never forgive or forget and given enough time, seeing as we have infinite amounts of it, you would surely seek your vengeance and destroy everything I have every worked towards." Grim had paused for a moment before he started muttering to himself. "I still can''t believe you two are linked. If you were not completely outside of fates plan''s, I would be certain that this was some ploy by one of the dark gods to shake things up. Maybe it''s because you''re both fallen or the fact she had the unfortunate luck to meet with you in your old world and you warped her fate somehow... Why does this have to happen on my watch as guardian?" "I would tell you to say your prayers Demon, but no God would be willing to listen," shouted the priestess as she finally gathered the courage to summon golden flames into the palms of her hands and approach the pyre. Mors chuckled lightheartedly, snapped from his conversation with Grim, as his eyes locked onto the woman with extreme killing intent. ¡°Why would I need to pray? I am already speaking with Death, and it doesn''t bode well for you I''m afraid. He is offering quiet a good deal." The priestess pointed her empty hand at him and muttered a chant before a thin ray of light shot outwards and pierced Mors shoulder, causing him to hiss in pain. Enough talk Grim. If I don¡¯t rip that bitch apart soon, I am going to lose it. The god sighed. "Due to needing huge amounts of energy, not just a God''s intervention, I must wait until the priestess ignites the fire. Also, because your primary affinity is darkness until your second affinity is fully awakened, you still will suffer severe surface damage so you... never mind, it''s not like you care about your looks as long as you get your revenge right?" Good, thought Mors as his aura, already terrify, continued to increase in strength, resonating out far enough to be felt by the Huntsmen over thirty miles away. All I need is the power to crush that woman; I care for nothing else at this moment. ¡°Death?¡± muttered the priestess, before realisation appeared in her eyes. ¡°YOU STILL THINk YOU CAN THREATEN US? DIE HEATHEN!¡± The woman stretched out her arm and the golden flame was sent hurtling towards the pyre at an incredible speed. "Let''s see how you fair against the purifying flames of light." "Don''t make me regret my decision to help you," sighed Grim as Mors felt an icy darkness fall over him. "You may be nothing but a weak imp now, but by helping you today, in the future, there will be few that can stand against you in the mortal realm." Mors¡¯ terrifying, reptilian eyes locked onto the priestess as a cold, haunting smile crept across his lips. Don¡¯t worry Grim, I always remember my debts and those that have helped me. ¡°Good, then remember that the Huntsmen have helped you and fulfill your part of the agreement. I will not be able to help you in the future as the other Gods have already noticed,¡± said Grim as his voice started to fade into nothingness. ¡°Oh, and try not to procreate. All I need is mini versions of you running around the place, messing up our divine plans.¡± Once the golden flames hit the pyre, they instantly combusted, engulfing Mors with a blinding flash of light. The villagers burst into cheers, expressing their relief only to fall silent a few moments later. This was not their first demonic purge, and the absence of the demon''s screams, as well as his confident demeanour, caused them to feel uneasy. The roaring fire, its towering flames licking the air tens of feet above the pyre, slowly started to diminish as it was sucked greedily towards the centre. After less than thirty seconds, dark, blood-coloured, tribal markings appeared from inside the fire and formed the shape of Mors'' body. At first, they were so faint that many of the villagers rubbed their eyes to make sure they were not seeing things but, as the golden flames died down and were slowly extinguished, the runes glow intensified and became clearly visible. As they watched in horror, loud, bone-crunching noises resonated outwards as Mors shattered limbs started to reform painfully. Everyone present stood with slack; horrified expressions plastered on their faces before a few of the stronger willed villagers turned and fled as fast as their feet could carry them. The priestess, who had a grin on her face moments before, slowly backed away and with shaking hands tried to pull charms and artefacts from her long, flowing cloak. "How... How can a devil be here... they are extinct, we purged every last one from the face of this world but... those rune markings can only bel-" The woman''s nervous ramblings were cut short as two, jet black, draconic wings burst through the flames and stretched into the sky, snapping the remaining villagers from their daze as they screamed in terror and fled in every direction only to be drowned out but a deafening, roar that extinguished the fire and sent visible shockwaves outwards.. The old woman fell to her knees in disbelief at what she was seeing. "May the light protect me." A cold, malicious laugh rang out, not that any of the villagers could hear it as they cupped their bleeding ears. ¡°Oh, how I am going to enjoy this.¡± BOM:Summoned - Family - Chapter 11.1 As terrified animals stampeded away from the small village and dark, foreboding clouds hung low, just above the forest canopy, two streaks of black and silver shot through the dense underbrush with incredible speed and agility. Dodging to the side as a large, rhinoceros-looking creature with two rows of tall, horn-like spikes sticking out from either side of is back charged past, the hood of one of the figures dropped, revealing long silver hair. "Well, his aura has definitely grown stronger now it isn''t restricted by that manastone cave," chuckled Kelora, dropping her own mantle and allowing her red hair to flutter in the wind as she leapt over a fallen tree. Adjusting her leather adventurers disguise mid-air, as if she was doing nothing more strenuous than going for a light walk, she continued. "If I had known he was going to pick a fight, I would have changed into something more comfortable and tagged along. Those Vonian guards weren''t even a warm up." Verz let out an irritated sigh, which was barely audible over the whistling wind as they raced through the trees. "We need to keep as low profile as possible. Two demons running around terrorising the countryside so close to the summoning site would cause us nothing but trouble, especially as you''re pretty notorious, even for a ''civilised'' demon." The beautiful silver eyes of the half-masked wolf-kin, Verz, left a blurred after image as she quickly dodged through a herd of water lurkers, large creatures with snake-like, extendable heads and jagged teeth, as they fled in the opposite direction. "And I am sick of telling you to not underestimate your opponents. If we had engaged those knights in a fair fight, we would have suffered a few casualties. The winner is always the one who acts first, has the most hidden cards, and doesn''t give their opponent the time to act. Even gods can die, and we are no exception." "Who said anything about fighting fair? I just said it was boring and not even a warm up," replied Kelora as she rolled her eyes. Suddenly a wicked grin appeared on her face, turning to a beaming smile. "By the smell of things, it seems the party has already started... Even though demons rarely get on with each other, I am starting to like this kid. He doesn''t mess about and wasn''t stupid enough to start something on his own doorstep." Verz snorted, "Started? It was reaching its climax a ten miles back. Since then the air has become thick with blood and burnt flesh and the screams stopped a few minutes ago." Kelora faltered slightly. "Sigh, you beastkin always astound me with your senses. Anyway, how did he get past the barrier Velcea set up without her knowing? Or get so far away?" "Probably some sort of movement skill linked with one of his affinities. Vel did mention that she sensed him trying out his abilities and thought he had tired himself out and was taking a nap as he is so young," said Verz as she frowned. "One demon was enough trouble, now I have two of you to keep in check." Attempting to look hurt, Kelora looked at Verz. "Aww, come on Captain, it''s not that hard to keep a demon happy, feed us, let us fight, throw us a powerful mate that won''t die at the best bits, and every now and again, a little slaughter and may-" The pair burst through the foliage, into a large clearing, and came to an abrupt halt as they were bathed in a warm, orange glow as the village in front of them was engulfed by a towering inferno, illuminating the clearing and the bottom of the clouds. Kelora scanned their surroundings and noticed charred bodies littering the area and shrugged her shoulders. "OK, make that a large slaughter and a lot of mayhem in his cause, maybe even a village or two." As she continued to scan for threats, the demoness spotted a clump of dismembered bodies that had fallen with their backs to each other, surrounded by shattered spears and shields, in what looked like a relatively heroic last stand and let out a sharp whistle. ¡°Got to give the brat credit, any demon would be proud to have him as their offspring. They would have to kill him of course, to ensure their own survival and dominance, but proud nonetheless."Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. Verz shook her head. "I am amazed your race hasn''t already wiped itself out with its maternal instincts let alone by the hand of the other races. Enough idle chatter. Secure the perimeter and ensure there are no information leaks, I will find th-" Before Verz could complete her sentence, both of their heads snapped towards the centre of the village where a shadowy silhouette, easily disguised against the burning buildings started to move towards them. As the figure got closer, it''s shape condensed to that of a young boy and withing a couple of seconds he stepped out of the inferno dragging the remains of what appeared to be a corpse. "Mors?" Shouted Verz as her eyes narrowed. As a silver wolf, her senses were unparalleled in the natural world and although the boy standing before her looked, smelt and felt like Mors, at the same time he seemed completely different. Kelora had an entirely different reaction, as her eyes went so wide they seemed too big for her head and were about to explode. "Captain... those are devil markings. He has devil markings... Devil Markings." Calming walking out of the flames, Mors'' reptilian eyes locked onto them, and he forced a smile as he lifted the burnt corpse slightly and shouted, in a horse voice. "Roast priestess anyone? No? Well, how about a BBQ''ed villager? Or a case of... WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU GUYS BEEN? I mean who lets a three-day-old demon, one pulled from a bloody hole of corpses, probably the target of the Sun Clan and whatever backwater kingdom this is, wander around in an area full of zealots and religious nutters that are of the ''string him up and burn him'' persuasion." Somehow, Mors knew they had not followed him and highly doubted Grim was stupid enough to suggest he ''make nice'' with them if they had been watching from the sidelines, but the lingering pain from his awakening and his muddled emotions from reliving so many deaths made him want to lash out. Both of the Huntsmen were shocked at the sudden outburst. Previously, Mors had asked a few questions and declared that he needed some time to himself, and that was already strange enough for one so young, but now they were getting fearlessly berated by a kid who didn''t just destroy a village, he virtually wiped it off the map. Verz was the first to recover, and the muscles behind her mask tightened in what appeared to be a smile. "Ahhh don''t be such a baby. You''re obviously OK, or you wouldn''t be able to moan that effectively. So what ha-" Mors'' face twitched as he glared at Verz. ¡°I am three days old¡­ threeee daaaysssss¡­ Those bastards wanted to burn me alive to ''purify'' me in the name of their goddess or whatever crap they believed.¡± Verz laughed. ¡°You''re a demon and a draconic one at that¡­ a little fire isn¡¯t going to hurt you, and you used the most important tense, they ''believed''. Looking around I think you showed them the error of their ways and sent them to their gods.¡± Mors'' fake smile dropped. "Oh, you mean that orange stuff behind me¡­ yeah, harmless, I was just enjoying its warmth. Now if you''re talking about that golden ¡®holy¡¯ light stuff that this bitch. " Mors lifted the charred corpse up by its only remaining, tattered leg, "used to try and incinerate me, which reacted quietly violently with my darkness affinity. " Mors rotated his head, letting the firelight fall on the left half of his of his face, revealing it to be severely burnt and blistering. "Then no, that stuff is not harmless, it''s bloody lethal and if you disagree, let''s go find someone to throw some at you. I bet you will change your mind pretty quickly especially with your... disposition." Luckily for Mors, by this point he was finally close enough for them to get a good look at his body and Verz was distracted by the large, painful looking burns littering his body alongside multiple injuries caused by both blunt and sharp weapons. However, this was quickly forgotten, mainly as it didn''t seem life threatening, as they focused on his short, glowing snow-white hair. Kelora spat on the ground. "Urg, he just had to have their hair... I hate angels." Verz analyses his hair before looking directly into his eyes. "Seem''s like you''re bloodlines have been forcefully awakened. There''s no doubt about it now, you''re a first generation draconic demon,¡± said Verz in a slightly awed tone. "Turn around." Mors looked down at his naked body, his temporary clothing long since burnt to a crisp. "I really didn''t expect you to be a pervert." A sudden gust of wind hit Mors'' head causing him to look up and see Verz''s fist inches from his face. "You are lucky you are too weak and injured for me to hit, but I will not hold back again. Turn around." "Great, I survived all that to be beaten to death by some molesting old grann-" *BANG* BOM:Summoned - Family - Chapter 11.2 Mors'' body twisted gracefully in the air, completing three rotations before slamming face first into the floor and sliding a good meter away, his back facing the two huntsmen. As if nothing out of the ordinary had happened, Verz retracted her outstretched fist and analysed the two black dragon wing-like tattoos running down each side of Mors back. "One of the gods must really like him; he has the best dominate traits of each species as well as being a first generation demon. The ability to transform and mutate his body, his stamina and his crazy amount of resilience, the empowering devil markings and... I wonder what his angelic trait will b-," Verz stopped and stared hard at the demon''s back with a complicated gaze before and muttering. "Could he acquire... no, of course not." She shook her head as if to dispell her thoughts. "That would be too much of a coincidence as well as heaven definitely convenient." "So what he has draconic wings; they are nowhere near as versatile as a demon''s," scoffed Kelora, ignoring her Captain''s mutterings as she started walking towards Mors. "I have to say, you are pretty merciless to someone on the verge of collapsing, but that''s what I like about you. If it weren''t for the demon in him, he would be as dead as the inhabitants of that village." Verz shrugged as a mischevious glint appeared in her eyes. "You sure it wasn''t his draconic bloodline? Dragons are notoriously difficult to kill or incapacitate compared to a mere demon, and I hit him pretty hard. Much harder than an average copper rank can take." As Kelora reached out to grab Mors'' arm, she looked over her shoulder at Verz and hissed in irritation. "You still went easy on him, and dragons are overrated. The-" Turning into a red streak, Kelora jumped back with astonishing speed and once she was alongside Verz, raised her hand to her face before looking at it, seeing fresh blood. "Tsk, the little shit." Verz chuckled with amusement, "What did I tell you only five minutes ago? Do not underestimate anyone, especially that boy. There are too many unknowns and even a blind person with no common sense would have seen that coming, or at least would have been more cautious." Kelora spat on the floor and glared at her Captain. "You have never failed to knock someone in the first strike before... You knew and purposefully distracted me with that taunt, didn''t you?" Verz stood motionless, her mask hiding, what one could only assume to be, a ridiculing smile causing Kelora to hiss noisily as her red eyes slightly glowed. "Are you sure there is not a demon in your ancestry, you put most demons to shame when you get in that mood." Mors'' tail swayed menacingly in the air, a few drops of blood falling, as he groggily lifted his head, spitting out a mouthful of dirt and blood, accompanied by a sharp, serrated tooth before turning around and proclaimed as proudly as he could in his feeble state. "First blood." Enraged, the demoness stomped forward as she cracked her knuckles and went to draw the short sword strapped to her side, Verz''s voice rang out. "KELORA! Enough, secure the perimeter and make sure there are no survivors. We can''t afford a leak." After watching Kelora sulk away cursing under her breath, Verz turned towards Mors and laughed. "I think you will find that I drew first blood, little demon and that you are far too weak to piss her off. Points for trying, but next time I won''t save you." "You don''t count, and I don''t need protection," said Mors as he tried to wipe the blood from his mouth before mumbling to himself. "Well, at least the memories and your behaviour are consistent. I guess." Verz frowned as she took off her cloak, and after walking forward, threw it at Mors and sat down cross-legged in front of him. "While being mysterious is good, I think it would be best if you tone it down a bit. You know too much for a newborn, and you''re a angels feather away from being tortured for information." "Ha," laughed Mors. "You can try. You need me just as much as I need you." Verz stared into Mors'' eyes, and after thirty seconds, the demon looked away causing her to smile. "I doubt you would submit to torture, and you don''t have any attachments that I could use, so I guess you are right. However, you are only a potential opportunity and nothing more. If anything, you are currently proving more trouble than you''re perceived value. Tell me, why should I waste my time with you?" Mors'' frowned, causing him to wince as the burnt flesh on the left side of his face cracked and started to bleed. After letting out a deep sigh, Mors'' shoulders slumped, and the hostility in his eyes diminished. Even though he was extremely prideful, his instincts were screaming at him that if he did not get on Verz''s good side, he would not survive long and that time would be even shorter if he went against her.If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. "Not as stupid as you look," chuckled Verz. "Now, I am willing to let you keep your secrets and help you gain strength on two conditions." Verz held up two fingers. "The first is that you never, ever mention anything about me other than how awesome or beautiful I am. You have made a few hints at knowing something that would get an ordinary person... silenced and it needs to stop.Now." "What about cursing?" interrupted Mors, "and threats?" "... It would be unfair of me to stop you, especially with what I have planned but you must nothing about my... situation or past," replied Verz before quickly moving on. "The second is that you must follow my commands. You''re free to question them when not in a combat situation, but expect a beating if you are out of line or in the presence of other Huntsmen." Mors stared at the floor for a few moments before looking at Verz as she stood up and took a step back. "Well, what is your decision," questioned Verz, her hand resting on her sword. "Since you were greedy and hogged all the fun for yourself, I am getting bored. Anger swelled up inside Mors, but he soon pushed it down. Even though he felt as if everything was conspiring against him to make this decision, Mors knew that he only had one choice and if he was honest with himself, which he wasn''t, he really needed someone he could depend on. Mors'' entire life consisted of a bloody pit in the earth, a village trying to kill him, thirty minutes or so of memories and emotions of his previous life and reliving thousands of painful, horrific deaths. He felt so alone, confused and isolated that it hurt more than the excruciating pain his body was in. After taking a few deep breaths, resisting the urge to close his eyes as the haunting visions would surface, Mors felt like he was torn in two, one side wanting to fight and rage at the world, burning it to the ground and the other wanting a warm embrace and to sleep. "Bah, I''m pathetic," muttered Mors, deciding to go with the easier option seeing as he couldn''t even stand, as he raised his hands out to Verz, signalling for her to pick him up. Confused, Verz stood there for a few moments before realising what Mors'' action meant. "I''m the Captain of the Huntsmen, not a mule." Mors'' arms remained in place as he stared into her eyes. This time, Verz was the first to look away. "Fine, but only this once," said Verz as she stepped forward, and after making sure Mors was not going to try to attack her, awkwardly picked him up, letting his head rest on her shoulder after deciding she didn''t trust him enough to sling him over her back. Without another word, Verz turns around and walks into the woods, soon realising the extent of Mors'' condition. Every muscle shaking for exhaustion and overuse. "I thought you were just faking it to get some attention, but it seems you really couldn''t walk." Mors growled as he internally raged at being so weak he needed to be carried. "If I waited any longer you would have made that red head carry me, and that would have ended badly for all." The moment Mors decided to put his faith in Verz, and she picked him up, a strange wave of security washed over him, rapidly dissolving his willpower and allowing his mental and physical exhaustion to take over, causing his head to nod as he fought to stay awake. Unbeknown to him, as they walked through the dark forest, the surroundings were faintly illuminated by a white light emanating from Mors'' hair. Verz, watching out of the corner of her eye showed an expression of bemusement before clearing her throat. "Appart from the obvious ''You would have killed me'', for a demon, you seem very accepting of us. Initially, when I found you in the summoning chamber, I thought that, given half the chance, you would have killed us on the spot. Why have you decided to trust us?" Mors started to fall into a daze as he struggled to stay awake. The comforting sense of safety joining forces with his exhaustion tugging on his weary mind. "There is no ''us''. I barely trust you." "Oh," responded Verz, her voice containing a small amount of happiness, "and why is that?" Mors took a deep breath, waking himself up just enough not to mention Grim. "In this world, that I barely understand, you are the only person who has not tried to kill me on sight. For better or for worst, you''re the only one I can depend on... I have no one else in this world and am completely alone." Verz''s steps faulted momentarily as she felt a strange tugging sensation in her chest. After a few breaths, she regained her composure. "Flattery will get you nowhere, little demon, especially with me although it is rather refreshing. Most cower in fear." Mors'' eyebrow twitched in annoyance as he regained some of his senses and thought about what he just said. "I don''t even like you, I just need you to get stronger, and we have the same enemies." "Sure," sung Verz in a melodic voice, "You just can''t admit you fell for me at first sight." Mors ground his teeth in irritation, but it wasn''t long before he drifted off to sleep. About half way back to camp, Kelora rejoined Verz and noticed Mors'' hair and sneered in disgust. "I hate angels... and how in the seven hell''s did you get him to make an angelic pact?" Verz shrugged her shoulders, causing Mors'' head to sag awkwardly to once side. "Hell if I know, I tried asking him without letting him know as I felt like that information would push him over the edge, but he gave me some soppy excuse about having no one else." Kelora smiled mockingly at the demon. "Awww, wittle babby has mummy issues. Well, it will take a few good slaughters for him to recover any respect I had for him... which wasn''t much to start with." Still, asleep Mors grumbled as he wrapped his arms around Verz''s neck and buried his face into her shoulder "...I will rip your beating heart out..." "Still talks the talk, though," said Verz. Sniggering Kelora falls in beside Verz, her expression turning serious. "If he is that willing to make an angelic pact without even knowing you, even if it is subconscious, is he really going to be useful in this war?" Verz laughed, causing the Kelora''s hairs to stand on end. "Oh, I wouldn''t worry about that, I will take him as my first adept. By the time I am done with him, forget backwater villages, even cities will shake upon the mear mention of his name." BOM:Summoned - Family - Chapter 12.1 Dark foreboding clouds hung heavy in the sky as Mors lay on his back gasping for breath while plumes of black smoke rose steadily into the air. Occasional snowflake fluttered past, seemingly trying to lighten his mood. Mors gave a wracking cough, spraying droplets of blood high into the air as something glinted in his peripheral vision. His head screamed in protest as it slowly rotated towards the object, only to realise it was a long, curved metal blade, held by a man wearing red, leather armour with a demon''s mask obscuring his face. A single white flag, attached to the man''s back, adorned with a red rose, fluttered in the wind. Noticing Mors was still alive, the man nodded and raised the blade above his head. "ÐÖ¡¢¤µ¤è¤Ê¤é." said the the body Mors was trapped in. A single tear dripped from under the demon mask as the sword slashed through the air. As the sword descended, it continuously morphed, along with the surroundings, into varying weapons and scenes as vivid emotions, from stoic last moments to screams of despair, washed over him. *Bang* With violently shaking hands, Mors lifted himself off the rough, wooden table as the deafening sound and smells of a lively tavern assaulted his senses. Gasping ragged breaths, droplets of sweat ran down his forehead and into the shabby black blindfold masking his eyes. "Wittle demon had a bad dream again?" laughed Kelora as she passed Rock a silver coin. "I was sure he was going to burn the place down this time." Still shaking, Mors pulled down his mantel, revealing his white hair, but surprisingly no horns. Where they should emerge from, was what appeared to be a hairband with small, blue runes running along its edges. "Urg, with the enchanted headband and not being able to see his eyes, he looks like a damn angel," hissed Kelora, her mood instantly turning dark. "Also, if his hair were longer, he would look like a girl." Rock chuckled as he scanned the room, glaring down anyone who was paying too much attention to Mors'' revelation. After a minute the noise in the room picked back up to its previous state as everyone lost interest. Velcea, who was pushing around the remaining vegetables on her plate with a fork, let out a bored sigh. "Even my bones felt the beating he got from the Captain when he set the last inn on fire. I doubt he will do that again." A cold draft could be felt coming from the gap at the bottom of the door as snow built up at the base of the nearby window, causing a waitress shiver and throw some more logs on the fire in the centre of the room. Mors rubbed his swollen eyes. It had been almost a week since he had destroyed the village and his mood was souring by the day. This was mainly to the fact that he realised that the only way to stop the nightmares, which he was finally starting to become numb to, was to be within a few feet of Verz, which had the added effect of making his hair glow. Raising a hand to his neck and feeling the phantom pain that was only just starting to fade, Mors'' let out a deep breath as he wondered how he had got into this situation. "Whats wrong? Need Mummy Verz to give you a hug and tell you it''s OK?" laughed Kelora, holding onto her sides as she fell backwards, into her chair. "¤¯¤¿¤Ð¤ì!" spat Mors, sitting up in his chair and glaring at the demoness, a faint red glint seeping through the blindfold. "Oh, noes, the pup''s angry," mocked Kelora but subtly her eyebrow twitched. After a brief standoff, she took a long swig from her tankard before continuing her meal. Although Mors was nothing but a weakling in her eyes, his unique skills, especially shadow step, and his unyielding personality was incredibly difficult to deal with without causing a lot of collateral damage. With the Captain around, that never ended well for either of them. Kelora had the sneaking suspicion that, on more than one occasion, even though he knew he would suffer as well, Mors had engineered a situation where Kelora would draw Verz''s wrath just so he could get back at her for some petty insult. Velcea smiled. "Looks like you learnt your lesson as well. Good children. It seems we have some of the best-behaved demons on the continent." Both Mors and Kelora glared at the dark elf but said nothing, Mors lowering his head to the table as Kelora pushed her plate away and crossed her arms. A small, delicate-looking green hand slowly reached over from beside Mors and patted him on the head. "Ter Ter wittle deman. It k to be eak. I proetec u." Instantly, Mors grabbed the blunt table knife next to him and tried to stab the owner of the hand, the small demonic goblin, only to be effortlessly stopped by Ethemesua, causing the goblin to laugh and clap her hands in glee as she sat back in Ethemeusa''s lap. "illy deman. Me good gurl. no hurt me. me too rong." Ethemeusa was wrapped in multiple layers of clothes and had many red glowing gems on her that were steadily releasing heat. "Seeing as I now I have your attention, Mors, what language did you just speak?" Mors strained for a bit before dropping the knife and giving up, putting his head back on the table. "Go find a hole with that little pile of snot and throw yourselves in it. If it could have sharp spikes at the bottom, even better." Over the week, Mors had tried multiple times to kill every person in the group but had failed miserably. He was simply too weak to do anything and even if he did manage to cause a wound, they would heal almost instantly with some potion or spell.Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. Although they irritated him to his core, he somehow felt that the Huntsmen were slowly growing on him, and that was the reason why he could restrain himself better. It wasn''t that he didn''t want to break every bone in their bodies and rip out their vocal cords, he just didn''t have as much desire to actually kill them when he was done. He would probably show mercy and let them suffer as they naturally heal... probably. Ethemeusa scratched her chin. "If I am right that makes seven... how weird. I have never heard any of them before; I thought I knew most of the languages in use. Also, when are you going to tell me about your second vision? That blindfold is enchanted to block out all sight, but it''s obvious you can see better than normal." "Stop using him as a study subject," said Velcea, "Verz has dibs on him, and he needs to have some cards up his sleeve if he want''s to survive." "Where is Verz?" mumbled Mors into the table, so close to attacking someone, he couldn''t look at them. Keloras could barely stop herself from laughing, "Awww d- "She is securing our passage through the mountains and will be back shortly, " interrupted Velcea. "Kel, please give it a rest or at least get some new material." "Sorry," sniggered the demoness as she tried to control herself. "Seem''s like I made Daddy Verz mad." Velcea ignored the dig however Mors was grinding his teeth as he resisted the urge to flip the table and go on a rampage. "Best get used to it lad, Huntsman are one big dysfunctional family, and if you''re going to be trained by the Captain herself, you''re basically her offspring." Rock, who had been idly cleaning a vicious looking dagger looked up. "Anyway, could be worse. You could have been ''adopted'' by Ethemeusa there. As you can see with the gob, her maternal instincts are through the roof for a sna-" A small throwing knife was slightly embedded into the top of Rocks head causing him to pause, his tough skin stopping it before it could do any real damage. "I told you to stop calling me that. I am a Lamia, not a snake woman," hissed Ethemeusa. "We are completely different species." Mors sighed and headbutted the table a few times, causing the drinks to slightly jump and everyone to look at him. "This is infuriating. I need to kill something before I go mad." Kelora nodded her head. "You and me both. I swear if one of those light healers gives me the stink eye one more time, I am going to pull their entrails through their mouth and make them watch as I feast." Mors sniggered and raised his head revealing a sinister smile. "Sounds like fun, when do we start?" "The Captain would kill us if we start something here," replied Kelora, obviously disappointed. "But it''s refreshing to see you acting like a real demon for once." "If that''s the case, we just need to make sure that we are acting in self-defence," smiled Mors as he sat up and looked to Kelora''s side. A small shadow encroached upon the table, drawing everyone''s gaze. "E..Excuse me," stuttered a young blond woman in a heavy white cloak. "My name is Renia and do not mean any offence, but can I ask why an angel and demon are together in the same party? Everything I have ever read has said that you are mortal enemies unless the angel is fallen but if that were the case, then his hair would be black." Mors'' smile instantly dropped as he took a good look at the woman and let out a deep, intimidating growl, releasing a small bit of his aura. "Are you a member of the Temple of Light?" The woman jumped slightly, feeling as if a terrifying predator had just locked onto her and she had no hope of escape. "N..no, I do not follow their teachings as th...they are too narrow-minded. I am a priestess of Equili, we accept all sentient races. That is why I wanted to ask you how you are getting along with the demoness. I would love to party with an angel and a demon but as demons are so rare these days, and angels are too haughty, I have never had the chance." "Kelora," said Kelora, in an irritated manner. "My name is Kelora, not demoness... You hippies of Equili are annoying. It''s true that angels and demons don''t get along. Now leave." Turning to Mors, she sighed. "There is no point trying to start a fight with them, they are pacifists who would watch their own young burn before hurting someone." Mors'' eyebrow twitched as Kelora revealed a mocking smile. "Well, if I can''t have a fight, I can still tease you. We all know how you love a good fire." Mors was about to launch himself across the table when a hand, feeling as if it weighed as much as a mountain, fell on his shoulder. "Well done, the Inn is still standing. I''m impressed with you two." Another growl, but this time much less intimidating and more in annoyance, escaped Mors'' throat. "You left me behind while I was asleep." "Mors, You''re going to have to come to terms with what happened at the village. And to be honest, it wasn''t even that bad; I don''t get why you are being such a cry baby when I have already put you through so much worse," said Verz in a deflated tone. "You''re never going to find a demoness and leave me alone if you keep this up. No one likes clingy demons." "But he''s an angel?" Said Reina with a confused expression, who everyone had forgotten was still standing to the side of the table. As Verz looked at her with a ''who are you look'', the woman''s eyes went wide as Mors'' hair started to glow. "AMAZING! YOU MADE AN ANGELIC CONTRACT." Her shout drew the gazes of everyone, immediately ending the loud conversations as they jostled to get a good look at Mors. "Please, tell me how you did that. I read only high-level archangels from the core families could make contracts and only with angels of similar standing. An archangel would never be here, and you are definitely a Wolfkin, so this should be impossible. The researchers at the Academy will never believe me," rambled Renia, almost hopping on the spot in excitement. Rock laughed. "So much for low profile. Told you going for the angel look wouldn''t work. We should have just dyed his hair." Verz sighed as she removed her hand from Mors'' shoulders, his hair starting to dim. "It''s not a contract, just an enchantment we placed on him for a joke, it will wear off in a few days." The woman looked confused before looking around. Nodding she replied in a loud voice. "Is that so, my mistake. Sorry. It''s just an enhancement." Pulling a nearby empty chair to the table, she promptly sat down and whispered. "Sorry, I got too excited, I am an enchanter, so I know that the headband isn''t for changing hair colour and to hide physical features and block innate auras." A wicked smile grew on Kelora''s face. "I say we kill her. Can''t leave loose ends." "I agree," nodded Mors. "Plus she is pissing me off with this talk of a contract. What does she mean?" "If we killed everyone for pissing you off Mors, the world would be a very empty place." Verz shook her head as she looked at the two demons, quickly changing the subject. "I think I prefer it when you are fighting. Come on, our escorts are waiting." "Who said we stopped," huffed Mors. "Temporary ceasefire until I get some answers." "I can''t help it if he agree''s with me," interrupted Kelora, also trying to redirect the conversation. "He must have finally realised what an impressive demoness I am and is trying to win me over with submissiveness, he is half angel after all." "Not even in your dreams and if you were the last female in this god forsaken universe," hissed Mors, a vein throbbing on his forehead. As Mors and Kelora traded insults, resulting in Mors being put in a headlock by Verz when he lost the verbal exchange and opted for a more direct method of solving their differences, the group stood up and gathered their belongings before walking out of the inn and into the snowstorm. Renia watched them leave before pouting. "Awww, I wanted to learn more. They seemed like a really interesting group." BOM:Summoned - Family - Chapter 12.2 Mors stared at his feet as they trudged through the thick snow, moving away from the outpost and feeling as if it reminded him of something, but then again, nearly everything seemed to remind him of something recently. Ignoring the now familiar, irritating sensation, Mors looked around, only to notice the goblin girl, giggling madly as she tried to steal one of Ethemeusa''s heat enchantments and sighed as he scratched the rapidly healing scar on the left side of his face. I wonder if I would have been happier not knowing anything. It doesn''t seem to of affected her growth; she can already speak, if a little childish, and is on par with me in terms of speed and strength. Bloody summoned, a bunch of overpowered, happy go lucky, pansies. Lost in his thoughts, Mors did not realise the group had stopped and ended up walking into the back of Kelora, who let out an irritated his and used her rear to violently push him back, causing him to fall backwards into the deepening snow. The snow around him vibrated slightly as Mors growled at the demoness, who was grinning as if she had just witnessed the most amusing thing in her life before he got up and dusted himself off. Mors ignored the smiling demoness and moved to the side only to find that they had stopped in front of two, semi-naked blue-skinned demons. After making sure they were not an immediate threat, Mors noticed that they closely resembled an average human, apart from the skin colour, small white horns and dark blue, tribal tattoos covering the majority of their bodies. "Who''s the nudists?" "That''s rich coming from someone who is always burning their clothes and running around naked," frowned Velcea, disapproval evident on her face. Verz had just placed a small bag into the larger demon''s hand when he looked at Mors. "You know the rules about roaming demon males from other tribes? Don''t think you can hide him with such shoddy enchantments." "Yes," said Verz blandly as Kelora chuckled, giving Mors a knowing look that sent a shiver down his spine. "I was planning on staying at the fortress anyway as I have business with the Patriarch, Markek." At the mention of their leader''s name, not just his title, the other demon recognised Vers and immediately stiffened and saluted. "I am sorry Huntsmen Verz, I did not recognise you without your tribe''s mask. We will lead you to the Patriarch immediately." After Verz signalled that it was okay, both demons quickly turned around and led the way through the scattered pine trees, towards the mountain in the distance, the falling snow gradually getting heavier. After half an hour, Vers noticed that Mors was struggling and was quickly tiring out. "Well, your are definitely not an ice demon. Want me to get Kelora to carry you?" "How can demons exist so close to a human society that openly despises their existence?" responded Mors, ignoring Verz question on purpose as he ground his teeth and redouble his efforts. Ethemeusa, who was feeling the cold and hugging the goblin girl intensely, started to explain as Verz rolled her eyes and marched ahead, leaving Mors behind. "As well as being the most peaceful and isolated demonic clan, the Ice Clan is also the strongest. Its royal family boasts a strength equal to that of any small nation or group of heroes, and due to the terrain, they are considered impossible to subjugate so have been left alone for centuries." Mors was stumbling but somehow, managing to keep up. "That doesn''t explain the difference in people''s behaviour. In that last outpost, both Kelora and the snot were pretty much ignored, but before that, you could almost smell the hatred oozing from people. Even those healers and priests seemed pretty non-judgemental in comparison." "The basin kingdoms realise that the Ice Clan are their best defence against any possible attack by the Federation and so try to keep on good terms. By doing so, they can station most of their troops in the south and eastern passes, dealing with the Demonic Plain''s and the Empire," yawned Ethemeusa, showing that she was already bored with the conversation. "And by being so close to the demon stronghold, anyone with intense hatred would be forced to leave or been killed pretty quickly." "Awesome," hissed Mors. "Not only are the kingdoms religious fanatics, but they are also selective in their beliefs." Ethemeusa shrugged. "Why do you think demons like Kelora and yourself are able to join the Huntsmen, Adventurers Guild and other groups? It''s because you are useful. Survival always trumps ideals, even in times of so-called peace and not everyone is a fanatic, you just got unlucky."This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience. Watching the two chatting from the corner of his eye, the smaller demon slowed his pace until he was walking next to Verz. "I hope you don''t mind me asking, Huntsmen, but why does the halfbreed wear an enchanted blindfold if he can see through it?" Verz turned her head and looked at the ice warrior, his faintly glowing, blue eyes displaying no iris or pupil. "He''s a little grouchy when people comment on his heritage, and I was sick of the issues it caused; same reason as for why he is wearing the headband that hides his horns and aura. Him not being able to see was just an added bonus but seems like he got around that somehow." "Of course, even if he is a half-breed, he''s still a demon," declared the guard as it was the most natural thing in the world before quickly catching up with his comrade, his curiosity sated. After a few miles, in which Mors was now almost doubled over with exhaustion, an imposing, ice fortress came into view. Its towers and snow covered ramparts, ascending high into the sky and disappearing into the dark-grey clouds. "The only way to cross the mountains other than the three valleys," said Rock, seeing the bemused look on Mors'' face as he attempted to catch his breath. "The dwarfs tried to mine through it once, only to stumble across a chaos vine and die miserable deaths. The Ice Clan, due to their natural affinity with the climate, simply built over and charge anyone wishing to cross. This citadel rises to the top of the mountain and meets at the peak with the northern citadel, I think there''s probably 500 meters of exposed ground to cross, just in case one of them were to fall." Mors nodded his head, not really caring due to feeling extremely heavy and tired, even more so than normal. I guess this lack of sleep is really starting to get to me. Seeing as Verz said we would be staying here, I should try and find some alcohol and drink myself into a stupor. It might not be good sleep, but drunken sleep is sleep none the less. After another hour, the group walked past large gates made of dark blue ice, at least fifteen feet thick and into the citadel and were immediately bathed in a cool, blue hue from the many mana stones embedded into the ceiling and walls. Before Mors could thoroughly analyse his surroundings, he was ushered, with the rest of the group, down long, winding corridors, occasionally passing a broad range of blue demons, carrying on with they day to day lives, completely ignoring the group. Most similar to the two guides that were leading them, however, every now and again, large hulking, crystal-like demons, carrying an assortment of heavy weaponry, and extremely thin, almost see through females with golden, glowing eyes could be seen. "Why are there different types of demon?" asked Mors as he looked around. "Surely if they are the same species they should look the same?" The group looked at him as if he were stupid before remembering that he was only a week and three days old and should be behaving like the snoring goblin in Ethemeusa''s arms. Ethemeusa, always wanting to show off her knowledge, came to his rescue. "The Crystal Demons and Winter Witches that you can see are the typical third evolutionary trait of ice demons and relatively common. The Patriarch is a Crystal Giant, a variant of Crystal Demon, while his wife is an Ice Queen, one of the rarest ice demon evolutionary subspecies. Both are incredibly powerful, especially in cold environments. The rest are standard ice demons or weaker variants." "Evolutions?" questioned Mors. The Lamia could not be bothered to answer Mors'' ''simple'' questions. "You will find out when the Huntsmen training starts. Every adept must have an advanced knowledge of the world to survive, and I can''t be bothered to waste my breath here when I am going to have to repeat myself later." After an almost silent growl at Ethemeusa, Mors kept to himself but it wasn''t long before the group approached enormous, ornate doors and he felt an immense pressure causing his skin to tingle and his feet to slow, silently moving to the back of the group. Turning around to the group and spotting Mors'' reaction, the larger demon guide smiled. "Seems like his senses are pretty good for a hybrid. This is one of the first trials we throw at our younglings to see if they have the instincts to become scouts or are instinctually brain dead and have to join the Warrior rank. He would be one of the front-runners this year. Most have to get to the doors before they can sense the danger." "Pfft, just because you get to actually enjoy fighting instead of having to do it as efficiently as possible, you think you''re better than us," snarled his comrade, apparently a disgruntled warrior. Mors frowned, finding it strange that being a scout was more glorified than a warrior but then he started to wonder why he would think that, adding yet more questions to his already extensive mental list. The doors creak open, causing a thin layer of ice to fall, and the escorts stepped aside allowing Verz and her group to enter a circular room, encircled by over twenty, heavily armoured guards, their helms only revealing their glowing blue eyes making them appear incredibly intimidating. Verz was the first to step into the room, followed by Mors, who had instantly felt disgusted with himself for being such a coward and resolved to push forward, causing both of the guides eyebrows to rise in surprise. The other huntsmen, all trying to resist the urge to snigger, quickly followed causing an even greater shock. Most people entering their Primarchs throne room would be subdued and overly cautious, and even though the Huntsmen were renowned for their frivolous, non-caring behaviour, it still was shocking that they would act so presumptuously in front such an overpowering aura. "Don''t think about it too much," said the warrior. "Every single one of them, even that copper rank demon stink of death and move with a warriors purpose. Even though they are weaker than the royal guard, I bet they would give them a run for their coin." BOM:Summoned - Family - Chapter 13.1 "Bloodhound, It''s good to see you still alive. Have you finally come to your senses and decided to accept the invitation to become my first concubine?" A deep, powerful voice resonated around the circular chamber as Verz, her Huntsmen, Mors and the goblin girl entered the room and the doors closed behind them. Sitting at the back of the chamber, on a massive throne made of ice, sat a huge demon seemingly made out of blue, glistening crystals. The demon''s sky-blue eyes were analysing the group walking towards him with interest. "Taken to snatching imps from the Plains? Why would you waste your time on those weaklings? I could have provided dozens of high-quality demons at a fraction of the cost." Next to the giant demon, sitting on a smaller throne, was a petite woman with light blue hair and blazing, golden orb-like eyes; so enchanting that one would almost forget that she had no visible mouth or nose, playing with a glowing cube of varying colours. "Sorry Markek, but as I have already said, I don''t swing that way, and even if I did, I wouldn''t want to break you; you''re too important in keeping the Federation out of the basin and my Huntsmen from dying pointless deaths." The mouthless demoness looks up and with, what can only be interpreted as a smile, waves happily to Verz who waves back. "Ele, still putting up with his antics? I would have thought you''d have put him in his place by now." Ele shrugs as she gives Markek a light tap, causing a massive crack to appear on the arm of the ice throne and Markek to slightly wince. "Second thoughts, I think its best to keep you two separated," said Markek with amusement. "Last time you two had a girls night out, you collapsed the central tower in a ''friendly'' competition and then had the audacity to blame it on my son, who was trying to stop you." Verz laughed, and Ele''s eyes glowed causing Markek to shake his head and chuckle. Verz passes a large bag to one of the guards, who checks it before nodding to the Primarch causing him to let out a disappointed sigh. "Damn was thinking you might be a little light and have to make it up to me." Another quick jab from his wife brought him back on topic. "Anyway, we can catch up later. I have organised a small dinner in honour of your arrival, and as payment, I expect to hear some of your recent adventures. Being stuck in this damn fortress is no fun at all, Not even one lousy rebellion in the last four years. You would think that at least one youngling would have delusions of grandeur and try and take me on." "Ahh, that reminds me of the imp there," The patriarch''s gaze fell on Mors causing him to tense as he felt an overwhelming pressure descend. After staring at Mors for a few moments, Markek scratched his chin. "Out of curiosity, is he strong? Demons who''s angelic heritage flares up, tend to be a bit weak, but anyone who travels with the infamous Bloodhound can''t be average." Mors let out a small growl, causing the Patriarch to chuckle as if his suspicions were confirmed while Verz smiled slightly. "If you ignore the fact that he is only a week or so old, has some unique abilities and is a natural predator, he is as weak as a newborn. He is also the only adept I have taken under my wing." "Hmmm," said Markek as he leant back. "I will have one of the support branch mate with him then, no point putting him with a warrior if he is weak, and scouts are a bit fussy when it comes to who''s essence they store." "Mate?" questioned Mors, his face, even though still wearing a blindfold, displaying confusion. "He doesn''t know?" asked Markek with an amused voice, only to see Verz shake her head. "I didn''t think it would be a problem. What male imp has ever turned down the chance to mate, especially with an ice demoness?" said Verz before she turned to Mors, his face expressionless. "It''s something of a tradition. All roaming demonic males are required to pass their essence onto any clan whose lands they pass."This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. Mors remained silent so Verz continued, thinking that maybe they should have told him more about demons, seeing as he was one. "Male demons can breed from birth, while females need to reach their second evolution. The main reason for this is that males tend to have a much higher mortality rate and need to secure their lineage as quickly as possible. As to why Clans allow roaming males to mate with their females, it is that only dominant males, with strong skills and abilities, could survive on their own, making their bloodlines extremely attractive." Not listening to Verz, Markek sized Mors up. "He has a good, domineering presence, strong affiliation with death judging by how the darkness clings to him. When faced with such overwhelming power he isn''t backing down in the slightest. The only downside is that the angelic blood is quiet concentrated to produce a physical trait and that he is a halfbreed... hmmm, maybe I shoul-" "Over your cold, dead, mutilated corpses," seethed Mors, grinding his teeth. "I care little for this world''s traditions or rules. I will do as I please, when I please and nothing will make me do otherwise." Verz sighed and massaged the bridge of her nose with her hand. "Why can''t you just be the typical male demon who can''t resist the urge to secure his bloodline and fool about." "Pride?" shouted Markek as he straightened in his thrown. "Now, I haven''t seen a pride demon is a long time... oh how I love breaking them. This is going to be fun." Verz shook her head. "Even though he has not been bound to a status plate yet, there is no chance that he is a pride demon... he probably has it as a secondary sin, though." "Interesting..." The crystal-like blue eyes of Markek narrowed. "OK, little imp. Here''s the deal. You will duel the female that was going to take your essence. If you defeat her, then I will let you have the honour of mating with one of the scouts." "NO," shouted Mors, taking a step forwards causing Ele''s eyes to shine brightly as she stopped playing with the cube and finally took an interest in the imp. "Are you deaf old man? Or just plain stupid? You have no right to command me." "Bhahahahahahahhaha, brilliant, brilliant," repeated Markek, staring at Mors as if he had found something truly interesting. "In that case, if you win your first fight, you will fight my granddaughter, she has just achieved her second evolution and is looking for her first mate. She is a little... physical for a support type, so I was having a hard time trying to pair her up." "As a low copper realm, you have the guts to keep her stimulated while being weak enough for her to deal with easily... Don''t want her turning out like her sister who pretty much kills any male that gets close to her after her first bonding." Mors snarled, extremely irritated that he was being ignored. Even though his instincts were screaming at him to escape, he was barely resisting the urge to see if Markek''s crystal face would shatter if punched hard enough. "If you beat her, then you are free to do as you please. If you lose, then you will stay here until she is bored with you." Verz''s hand clamped around Mors'' mouth, knowing that he was only a few words from getting himself killed. "Oh, and if you refuse, I will have you executed on the spot," said Markek in a bored tone as the pressure around the room almost doubled, making it difficult to breathe. After giving the most threatening look she could muster to Mors, Verz removed her hand slowly. Mors took a deep breath and almost twenty seconds passed before he exhaled. "I accept." "Good." Markek clicked his crystal fingers, generating a ringing sound. "Challenger, introduce yourself and start the duel. A tall demoness, looking to be around sixteen years old appeared out of the ice wall on the left side of the room and sauntered towards the far side of the room, her tight fitting, white leather outfit leaving little to the imagination. As she reached the opposite side she turned, her long purple hair swaying before locking her dull yellow eyes on Mors, revealing a disgusted look. "Healer Ankek, first star Bronze realm. Here to duel for the right to mate." Verz took a quick glance at Mors who was shaking with rage, a small trickle of blood flowing from the side of his mouth as he bit his lip. Turning towards Markek, she raised an eyebrow. "Wow, you really know how to piss off a demon... Threatening him with death then sending a healer to fight him." Markek shrugged. "Provoking demons with the sin of pride is something of a hobby of mine, and even if she is a healer, she is still an ice demoness. They can stand toe to toe with warriors of lesser races, and for someone so weak, he should be honoured." Mors slowly stepped forward, his small hands clenching and unclenching as his breath became visible in the cold air before coming to a stop thirty or so feet away from the demoness. Ankek waved her hand and a long, elegant ice sword formed from the moisture in the air. Looking at Mors as if he was stupid, she gave a quick glance to her Patriarch before glaring at the imp. "Do you not need a weapon? You can also take off that silly blindfold and enchantment. Just because I am a healer does not mean I will go easy on you." Mors stood motionless, completely ignoring the woman. "BEGIN!" bellowed Markek, apparently bored with waiting. Letting out a low hiss, Ankek rushed forward, moving her sword across her body, preparing to cut horizontally. "Do not look down on me, trash." BOM:Summoned - Family - Chapter 13.2 Ankek''s figure streaked across the room, her ice sword reflecting the blue light of the mana torches, as a vicious snarl appeared on her face. "How dare you look down on me when you''re nothing but trash." The moment she was in striking distance of Mors, Ankek swung the ice sword with all her might, a blue hue emanating from it, as she released a shout of fury, however, what happened next, left everyone, including Verz speechless. Mors'' body momentarily blurred, appearing in front of the demoness before grabbing her wrist and twisting it violently. The sickening snapping sound was echoed by her right knee as Mors'' left leg slammed into its side, causing Ankek to release an ear piercing wail as she started to fall. Before she had even dropped a few inches, Mors had already spun around, using his tail to sweep away Ankek''s remaining leg, the spikes tearing lumps of blue flesh, while her body flipped, causing her head to smash heavily into the floor. "Damn, that was brutal," commented Rock. Velcea shook her head. "Not a shred of mercy." "I approve," nodded Kelora with a serious face. "He might not be one of us yet, but he is basically representing the Huntsmen right now." Leaping off the group, Mors span forward, extending his leg with the intent of using his heel to deal a killing blow. Just as his foot was about to make contact, Mors was suddenly raised higher, causing him to graze the demoness''s temple, as Verz lifted him up by his collar. "I think that''s a little overkill. Killing is forbidden in duels." Mors did not resist as he dangled limply. "Depends on who you''re asking... she''s still breathing and like I said, I do not care about rules." Verz sighed before leaning forward and whispering. "You can''t win the next match. Put up a token fight but conceal your abilities. Markek will keep his word, but the deal was until your opponent is bored of you. Do not invoke her interest or I am leaving you behind to be her plaything." Applauding, Markek stood up as one of the guards unceremoniously dragged Ankek away by her foot, small whimpers of pain escaping her lips before she disappeared back into the wall. "Bit anti-climatic but not surprising seeing as you are the Bloodhounds disciple. Looks like I was right." "Remember what I said," Verz casually threw Mors to the other side of the room, in the general location to where Ankek had previously started. Due to falling head first, Mors used his palm to flip himself over, landing on his feet. Turning around, a young woman, one he had not seen before, was standing on the opposite side, just in front of Verz and the other huntsmen. Holding an ice sword in each hand, her glowing yellow eyes appeared to be remarkably similar to Ele''s while small crystals, matching Markek''s body, protruded from her elbows. Guess this is the granddaughter, thought Mors as he started to analyse his new opponent. Her leather armour is a lot thicker than the previous woman''s, and from how she is holding the two swords, it would appear she is a front line, combat type. Mors slightly frowned. Didn''t he say she was a support class? "My name is Ryen Ice, second daughter of General Tilak and granddaughter of Markek, Patriarch of the Ice Clan." The blue skinned woman gave an elegant, half bow, never breaking eye contact with Mors, knowing that even though he was pathetically weak, he wasn''t one to be complacent around. "Where the hell did you come from?" hissed Mors. Crushing the other demoness had lightened his enough for him to attempt small talk, even if was a little provocative. "Not very observant are you?" replied Ryen with a mocking smile. "I guess that even with that garbage underestimating you, you really had to concentrate and didn''t notice me arrive." Mors'' jaw tightened. "Begin," roared Markek, sitting on the edge of his seat in anticipation, however unlike the previous duel, both Ryen and Mors continued to stare at each other. "What''s up? Only know how to defend?" laughed Ryen after a minute, spinning the swords in her hand majestically. "Fine, I''ll go first." Turning into a blue blur, Ryen appeared at Mors'' side and with a sweeping kick, sent him flying into the air before reappearing, almost instantaneously, above him. With a simple drop-kick, she sent him plummeting downwards. Mors hit the floor with so much force that he bounced back into the air, vomiting a significant amount of blood and before his body could drop, Ryen was back. With a much weaker kick, she span Mors, mid-air, causing him to land on his back. "I tell you what, kiss my feet, admit defeat, and I''ll go easy later," laughed the demoness playfully. "Although it''s my first time so I can''t promise anything." Mors spat a mouthful of blood on her feet causing the leather shoes to sizzle, releasing small plumes of toxic smoke. Ryen smiled. "Oh, you like it rough?" Feeling like she was in complete control, Ryen felt she had maybe overestimated the demon''s abilities. Letting one of her swords dissolve into nothingness, Ryen grabbed Mors'' tail and, seemingly impossible for her small stature, even if Mors was a child; she easily lifted Mors into the air before smashing him into the floor. "Eney." *BANG* "Meeny." *BANG* "Miny" *BANG* "Moe, grab a demon by his tail," *BANG* "I WILL RIP YOUR BEATING HEART OUT," screamed Mors in anger as he tried to bend his body enough to grab hold of Ryen. *BANG* "If he yells." Ryen lets go of Mors, sending him flying towards the wall, where a guard lazily stepped to the side, allowing Mors to smash into it. "Let him go." Large chunks of ice fell from the newly formed crater. However, Mors was already on his feet, steam rising from his body as he gasped for breath. "How predictable," sighed Kelora, taking a gold coin from a disappointed Rock. Verz, who was standing with the group shook her head. "He is losing his temper and is too easy to read." Mors raised his hand slowly to his head and grasped the headband before pulling it off and smashing it to pieces. A murderous, tyrannical aura swept out across the room, causing everyone''s breaths, even Markek''s, to slightly catch in their throats. "Well, I wasn''t expecting that," stated Markek, almost standing to get a better view of the fight. "Passive auras are so rare these days." As the weakest person in the room, beside the goblin, who was surprisingly still sleeping, Ryen was the most affected by Mors'' aura and was momentarily stunned. The air around Mors slightly lightened, gaining a red hue, as he took a deep breath, tilting his head backwards. Small, red lights appeared and raced towards Mors before sinking into his skin, causing his red devil markings to glow, only visible on his exposed skin, which was his face and hands, although not as intensely as back in the village he destroyed. "Idiot," spat Velcea. "He needs to learn some self-control. At this rate, everyone and their pet mork are going to know that a first generation demon is running around." Verz couldn''t help but shrug. "I think he is trying in his own w-" Suddenly, the red lines seemed to flow from Mors'' hands and face, concentrating around his throat. "Fire in the hole," chuckled Rock as Verz let out a defeated sigh. Still dazed by the sudden appearance of Mors'' aura, Ryen''s eyes grew in surprise as Mors threw his head forward and opened his mouth wide. What started as a small, orange spark, turned into a raging inferno, exploding towards Ryen. Snapping from her stupor, she jumped to the side without a second to spare, feeling the intense heat on her legs as the flames roared past, slamming into the recently vacated wall behind her.This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. Standing up, Ryan couldn''t help but have a quick glance at the damage. A two meter wide, six-foot deep hole was blasted into the profound, mana imbued ice wall, one of the strongest materials in the world. Once again temporarily distracted, Ryen was awakened from her stupor as her hair stood on and as she sensed intense killing into to her left side. Lowering her stance, Ryen managed to dodge Mors'' knee. However, she was too slow to dodge his tail as it slammed into the side of her face, one of the spikes cutting deep into her cheek drawing blue blood. The moment Mors'' feet touched the floor his body turned into a black blur, as he used shadow step to close the distance between them, and quickly unleashed a devastating barrage of kicks and punches towards Ryen''s vitals. As the sound of battle resonated around the room, Markek had stood up and walked over to Verz, never retracting his gaze from the fight. "Just where in the seven hells did you pick up a lower copper rank that could push a mid bronze ice demon, of royal blood, into using her heritage. I was expecting an entertaining fight from someone picked by you, but this is outstanding. Once Ryen has defeated him I might let a few of the scouts and warriors join in. Can''t let a bloodline like that slip by." Around Ryen, a blue aura was steadily forming, concentrating around her vitals where Mors seemed to be focusing his attacks, mitigating most of the damage. Verz chuckled without humour. "I wouldn''t push him too far. If he survives long enough, he is going to be someone you don''t want to have offended. Anyway, why did you set this all up and how much information did your scouts get? This isn''t something that you just thought of." Markek chuckled and waved it off before refocusing on the fight. "I was wondering when you were going to catch on. Ryen has been focusing completely on strength, like many of my kind, and neglecting her skills which can be a fatal mistake. My scouts inform me that, although he is weak, that imp has committed some impressive deeds with his skills, so, as well as being a good match for her first mate, he might be able to open her eyes to what she is lacking." Markek let out a frustrated breath. "Apart from a certain incident, at a now non-existent village, and the last few days of your journey, I don''t know anything else and was hoping you would enlighten me. You know I can''t bear not knowing something." Just as Markek finished speaking, Ryen''s head abruptly snapped back as Mors landed a powerful uppercut, causing blue blood to pour from one of her nostrils. "You little shit. I am going to kill you." Charging towards Mors, Ryen''s sword hissed through the air, but just as it was about to slice into his skin, his figure once again flickered, and he appeared behind Ryen, using his tail to sweep her off her feet just as he had done in the previous duel. "I hate that skill," said Kelora, her smile instantly replaced with a glare as Ethemeusa nodded her head in agreement. "Unless you keep physically contact at all times, its a pain to get hold of him." As she tumbled through the air, a wicked smile grew on Ryen''s face as she released her sword and pushed her palm out towards Mors. "ICE BOLT." A sphere of ice instantly condensed in front of her before shooting towards Mors with blistering speed, slamming into his shoulder before shattering. The force of the hit sent Mors sprawling backwards, rolling on the ground and dislocating his shoulder." "Such an amateur, shouting her spell names like a moron," sighed Markek. "I will have to beat that out of her later." Grabbing her sword, which had yet to reach the floor, Ryen dashed towards Mors and slashed downwards, cutting a large gash into his chest, before holding its tip at his throat and releasing a small, satisfied hiss. "Not bad for an imp. I underestimated you, and let you get a few lucky hits. Shame I still haven''t even used 40% of my power, but I guess I you can still hold your head high for forcing me that far. Submit," declared Ryen confidently. The outline of Mors started to blur, but before Mors could fully activate his ability, Ryen stamped on his chest, causing a fountain of blood to rise into the air. "Is that the only skill you have? It''s a shame that fire energy is so weak here... you might have been able to entertain me a bit with that fire breath. Even with Ice Fortress activated, I wouldn''t want to take that head on. Come on, give up. I''m hungry." "Fuck you," coughed Mors, "I would rather eat an angel shit than submit to yo-" Mors'' ribs made loud cracking noises as he was sent crashing into the wall, causing another, rather large, crater in the wall. Ryen took a deep breath as she felt as if a large stone had been lifted off her chest as Mors'' aura vanished. "Tsk, why do you try to act so tough when you''re so weak, fainting after a little kick," huffed Ryen as her sword dissolved and she turned to her grandfather. "He seems alright, but do I really have to mate with him? It''s almost shameful how weak he is." Markek looked at his granddaughter with a complex expression before letting out a deep sigh. "I was hoping he would provide to be a bit more of a chal-." His words were cut off as he noticed Verz appear next to the pile of ice that had fallen on top of Mors and kneel down. Mors was staring at the ceiling, seemingly despondent, his blindfold laying next to him, ripped by the jagged ice. His heartbeat thundered in his ears, as his vision pulsed in rhythm. So this is the extent of my abilities, thought Mors. How... pathetic. Mors sighed. He was exhausted, not from this fight but in general. His blood had felt cold and thick for hours, and his muscles refused to obey him immediately, which had cost him dearly. It felt as if he was trying to move underwater. A self-mocking smile bloomed on his face. Well, I may have lost, but I will not submit. I wonder how I can take that bitch with me, not that I have anything against her specifically, but I can''t bear the thought of dying without getting a single kill... I doubt I will be able to kill the guards or even scratch those old farts on the thrones, so it has to be her. Mors'' smile was replaced with a frown. Why do I feel so much better now I have decided to fight to the death? Oh well, it''s not like death is the end... unfortunately. As he was making a plan for his last stand, wondering if he could at least shatter the glass dome above him. Verz''s head appeared in the corner of his vision. "That all you got, little demon?" Mors attempted to shrug, only to remember his shoulder was dislocated. "I think I have one more round left in me. Should be fairly entertaining but I doubt there will be an encore." Verz instantly recognised the look in Mors'' eyes and felt a sudden chill, which for her current condition, was even more worrying. Mors'' aura was gone, along with his rage and anger however what replaced it was ten times more terrifying. The cold, calculating gaze of someone who had resigned themselves to death but not before trying to burn the world around them, with not a shred of emotion for anyone else. Simply put, a madman. Verz cleared her throat, choosing her words carefully. "A hunt can only end in death, little demon, but this isn''t your hunt. This does not even hold a candle to your revenge or the hardships you will face. If death is required here, why does it have to be yours? The dead give up the right to claim what is rightfully theirs, and that includes vengeance." Blocked from view by Verz''s body, Mors raised his good arm into the air, reaching out to the ceiling before closing it into a fist, as if he was trying to grasp something. "But I am so we-" Mors stopped himself. What the hell am I saying? Spouting these pathetic excuses and accepting the labels others had shoved on me. I am not scared of death, I am not afraid of pain. Why should I obey by their logic and rules? What has happened to me? My purpose was so clear, but I lost sight of it so easily. His arm dropped, and the demon revealed a sinister smile that even made Verz, the veteran of hundreds of battles and atrocities, to want to back away. Hunt... Death... Yes. Why have I made it so complicated? The Sun Clan, the Black Knight, that measly kingdom. Those are my real targets. This is a hunt, and I cannot afford to die here. "A bit of advice," said Verz, watching the complex and varying emotions wash over Mors'' face. "The demons you see before you are not the terrifying individuals of lore, they are the domesticated, civilised descendants who, for comfort and convenience, lost what truly made them strong and feared." Mors frowned,then as if he had realised something, his face relaxed and breathing slowed, almost stopping, as his eyes closed. Instead of showing concern, Verz eyes sparkled with anticipation. "Ignore what I said earlier, Mors Letus. I do not want some run of the mill, civilised demon as a pet who is imprisoned by the world''s rules and norms. I want a raging draconic demon who marches forward, destroying everything that has the audacity to keep him from his goal. Stand proud and fight till to your last breath, and if you are to fall, make sure you haunt their dreams until the day they die." Verz watches as the shadows from the chunks of ice started to darken before snaking towards Mors, the faintly glowing red markings, almost invisible, turning black and thickening. "Good, now show them what a true demon is. Show them the true you." Verz stood up and walked back to the others, who wore confused expressions, thinking that Mors was unconscious and she had left him. "Abandoning him already?" questioned Markek. "His performance wasn''t that bad. I guess I could take him off your hands." Verz smiled as a small amount of her own madness danced in her eyes. "No need, he isn''t finished yet. He was standing on the edge; I just gave him a little push in the right direction." The blue lights in the room dimmed, briefly flickering as Mors'' body unnaturally rose from the floor as if he had been resurrected by a necromancer, the ice debris falling off him and crashing to the floor as his head hung limply. "Hoh, he''s not unconscious. I thought his aura was passive, but it must be something he can control," nodded Markek before his smile faltered. " That''s... disappointing, I can''t feel any fighting spirit or killing intent coming from him at all. Has he given up?" Verz just smiled. After a few moments, Kelora''s eyes went wide. "CAPTAIN! What the hell did you do to him?" "A little pep talk. His mind is very... adaptable and will grab any chance it has, even if it must warp facts and reality, in order to survive and maintain his ideals and pride." Verz looked to Markek, "Can the guards be trusted?" Staring into Verz eyes for a few seconds, Markek raised his hand, and the guards surrounding the room stepped backwards, merging into the ice walls before disappearing. His voice held a small tremor of excitement. "Something taboo? Oh, you always bring me the best entertainment." Ryen watched intently as Mors rotated his shoulders, popping the dislocated one back into place as his body started to sway, in a weird, otherworldly rhythm. "Not given up yet? You can barely stand," shouted Ryen, oblivious to what was happening in front of her. "Or are you ready to kiss my feet?" A dark, foreboding chuckle escaped Mors, causing Reyn''s hair to stand on end for the second time, but unlike the first, it didn''t pass and instead, continued to grow. Ryen''s gut tightened as she experiences something she had not in a long time. Fear. The room was many shades darker than it should have been, but that was nothing compared to the area around Mors, which was almost pitch black as his body greedily absorbed the surrounding mana. The energy was so dense, that the remains of his tattered shirt dissolved, revealing his scarred white skin, the wound Ryen inflicted to his chest and, black, winding lines converging in runic formations, seemingly shifting as if he was covered by black serpents. "Devil markings! how could you keep something like this for me, earlier, the red ones were so weak I thought it was a tattooed enchantment," hissed Markek, nearly delirious with joy. "I... I must have his bloodline in my family." "Remeber the deal. He wins, and you can''t force him into anything." Verz only vaguely heard Markek, her attention solely focused on Mors. I knew he was subconsciously holding back, but this... its as if he is the aspect of death, descending to reap her soul. Markek''s face blanched at Verz''s words before he turned to Ryen and bellowed with his full might. "RYEN! DO NOT LOSE! ATTACK NOW BEFORE HE HAS FINISHED ABSORBING THE ENERGY. YOU MUST MAKE HIM SUBMIT." Mustering all of the resolve she could, Ryen was just about to charge when... the world fell away. The only thing that existed were two, glowing red reptilian eyes stareing at her, piecing her very soul. A smile that no child could possess, demon or not, appeared dragging her attention away from the monstrous eyes. Cold sweat drenched her body as she fell to her knees, no longer having the strength to stand. "W...w.....whhattt are you?" stammered the demoness, now looking no more intimidating than a human baby. "Me?" responded a voice that made her soul violently quake, "Why I am your death." BOM:Summoned - Family - Chapter 13.3 Even though Mors'' words had been spoken in nothing more than a whisper, they echoed in the ears of everyone present, especially Ryen''s, who seemed to be on the verge of a breakdown. Tears and snot streaming down her face, the ice demoness could do nothing but stare in terror and fall backwards, onto her rear, as she attempted to drag herself away from Mors. "P...p...pleeaassee spare me." Although it appeared that she was talking to Mors, Ryen''s eyes were glazed and unfocused, darting about as if seeing something no one else could. The menacing glow in Mors'' eyes intensified, his abilities feeding off the demoness''s fear, as he slowly lifted his leg and stepped forward causing the demoness to flinch. His footstep reverberated outwards as if it bore the weight of a mountain, while he maintained his haunting, cruel smile. By his second step, Ryen was practically sobbing, prompting Markek to shake his head and let out a depressed sigh. "To think that he was a wrath demon and that his aura was strong enough to generate a domain. My little Ryen had no chance once he got serious. It has been an age since we trained in that kind of warfare. Most wrath demons are nothing but shells of their former glory; not even fit to carry the name, making them extremely easy to kill." Verz nervously chuckled as her hand subconsciously reached for the sword at her waist. "You''re not going to do anything...rash, are you?" Noticing the movement, Markek sighed. "Don''t do anything foolish Huntsman. Although the pact between us stops me from killing you or any of your kin, it will not save your comrades or that boy. Besides, I think having a wrath demon with the sin of pride owing me a debt, could come in handy one day... Even if he has just pretty much destroyed any chance my granddaughter has of being able to stay in the main family without being killed by her siblings." "I guess this is why you are have retained your position as Patriarch of the Ice Clan for five hundred years. Despite your look''s, you have some intelligence," replied Verz, a hint of relief in her voice. "This demon is important to me and my goals. I would appreciate it if this matter was... kept discrete. In exchange, I might be able to offer a solution to Ryen''s problem." Markek showed a mirthless smile. "Of cou-" "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO. STAY BACK!" Ryen''s scream interrupted their conversation. Mors was standing just five feet away from the demoness, looking down at her like a predator that had corned its prey. Slowly, a small, light blue puddle formed under the demoness, spreading outwards. As the rest watched the scene unfolding before them, Ethemeusa''s reptilian eyes were locked onto Mors'' body; concern etched on her face. "Captain... when can we interrupt the duel?" If Verz had looked over, she would have seen Ethemusa''s expression and realised that something was wrong, however as she was too intent on watching the fight, prepared to jump in and stop one of them launching a lethal attack; she responded without thinking. "As soon as one of them surrenders and the other accepts or they try to kill the other." Upon hearing Verz''s words, Ethemeusa ground her teeth and edged forward, impatience clearly showing on her sharp features as she muttered quietly to herself. "You demons and your damn rules, no wonder you''re going extinct." Ryen, who was feebly attempting to move backwards, but had seemingly lost the strength to, started begging profusely, her subconscious latching onto Verz''s words, igniting the spark of hope. "I surrender... I give up... I will do anything... What do you want? Please? Just stop." "What do I want? Well... that''s easy," said Mors in a icy tone. "I want everything and, I want nothing."Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road. As Mors went to take another slow step forward, Ryen did something that was almost unheard of for a demon, especially of one from the Ice Clan, renowned for their stoic personalities. After releasing a small whimper, she threw herself onto her stomach, laying in her urine as she raised both her feet, so her heels were touching her backside. At the same time, she stretched her arms out to her sides and raised her palms skyward as she slammed her forehead into the floor. "I..i..ssuubmit. I offe.. I give everything I have." A snapping sound resonated out from Markek, as he shattered one of his teeth, his crystalline face contorting in an expression of disbelief. Even Verz was utterly flabbergasted by what she was seeing. She had been expecting the demoness to berserk, as her kind was prone to when facing such a crushing defeat, and utilise her bloodlines powerful abilities or for Mors to attempt a finishing blow but not this, not complete subjugation. The only time a demon would submit in this fashion, was when they were totally and utterly defeated and there was not even a slight chance of their survival if they continued to struggle. Only with these conditions met, could they throw away their pride and innate instincts. It was something of a survival mechanism for their race, a trait that offset their brutal, bloodthirsty nature, and one of the few reasons why they had not wiped themselves out yet. Mors glare intensified as he spoke with short, shallow breaths. "Stand... fight... this is not how it ends." Ryen remained motionless on the floor, small sobs coming from her as her body trembled. Mors continued to glare, swaying slightly, but his aura significantly diminished as he found that the thought of killing her in this state, slightly repulsed him. "Idiot, she knows we would have stepped in and saved her," hissed Markek, still reeling from the shock of what his granddaughter had just done. In demonic terms, total submission was like a form of slavery or a one-sided demonic pact. "Just how powerful is his domain to utterly dominate a pure blooded ice demoness?" "I have seen many demon''s auras and many domains," said Kelora, not speaking to anyone in particular, looking more shocked than the rest of them. "But I have never felt one like that. It was if I was standing in front of an army of millions, but at the same time, they were one... like an insectoid, hive mind with a single, terrifying goal." Markek briefly looked confused, so Verz explained. "Kelora here is a reader or sorts; she has the ability read auras, passive effects and any skill as long as she can see it." "I have never regretted having this ability until now," interrupted Kelora. "Captain, that imp... he isn''t normal." Verz finally turned to look at kelora, revealing a mocking expression. "Scared?" "...Yes," replied Kelora, repressing a shiver, no hint of anger at the mocking question in her voice. "A demonic domain is created when a demon''s aura is so strong; it creates illusions and warps the reality of anyone who is entranced, however, that felt real, as if he was just revealing his true self. It that is the case, then his aura has been enhanced by something else, and that should not be possible." Verz frowned as her gaze returned to Mors, who was still swaying in front of the prostrating demoness. "Why are you acting so shocked? Nothing about that boy is normal." Glaring down at Ryen, Mors felt nothing but contempt and disgust. Pathetic. Utterly pathetic. Is this what the world fears? Is this why I was persecuted so violently? Is this what others see me as? Some weak, snivelling coward who, to save their life, would roll in their own filth. Mors wanted to spit in disgust, but he was barely standing, the numbing cold rendering his limbs almost immobile. Although he disguised it as best he could, Mors doubted he would be able to utter another sentence or continue to mask the fact that the reason he was swaying, was that he feared that his joints would completely lock up if he didn''t keep them moving. Overwhelming tiredness assaulted his senses, but he continued staring at the demoness... the warm, pulsating orange and red glow radiating from her body drawing him in, offering sweet warmth and release from his fatigue. Mors'' vision kept blurring in time with his slow, steady heartbeat as he came to a shocking discovery. I''m dying. The feeling, now so familiar to him due to his memories, caused Mors to briefly panic before the sobbing of the young woman in front of him, refocused his mind. Verz advise resurfaced, causing him to try and chuckle. However, no sound escaped his lips and as he couldn''t feel his face, he wasn''t sure what facial expression he was making. It looks like I will live on in that girl''s nightmares so this is not a complete loss I suppose but... I wonder what killed me? It feels as if my body is shutting down. As Mors'' thoughts drifted, his vision tilted backwards, and he heard the whistling of the air as he approached the floor, however instead of hitting it, it seemed like he fell through into a world of complete darkness. Bah... couldn''t even die on my feet... Pathetic. BOM:Summoned - Family - Chapter 14.1 Stood awkwardly in a small, stone clad room that was illuminated by the roaring fire and the many glowing heatstones embedded into its walls, Verz, and her huntsmen gazed down on the pale, motionless body of Mors. Ethemeusa, who had reverted to her natural form, curled her jade-green, snake-like tail into a coil as a small tear run down the side of her face. "I''m sorry captain. After losing my own to the cold, I would have thought I would notice the signs. I tried everything I could, even using my body heat and mana but I just couldn''t get his heart beating again." Verz''s face was unreadable, and after a few tense moments, she let out a deep sigh. "It wasn''t your fault Eth. His body was relatively stable before he used that fire ability and we all thought he was just tiring from the duel. Who would have known he was cold blooded? He was a monster to stay conscious up until the point where his organs failed and was probably dead before he hit the ground." Rock scratched his head, making a loud grating sound. "With a personality like his, maybe it is for the best. I doubt he would of have lived a happy life." "Least it was now before you got too attached," shrugged Kelora, "Besides, he was bound to get himself killed at some point, wrath demon or not." Verz''s shoulders slumped as she looked at the wall, where thirteen, yellow crystals were embedded symbolising the time. She had not know Mors long, but he still approached her for comfort, even when he seemed to know what she was and thus, had rapidly grown on her. "Eth, this must have brought up some bad memories, you stay here. We will be back after the... feast with Markek, and then we can cremate him. We don''t want someone with his personality coming back as a revenant or undead." Ethemeusa nodded and slid over to the fire where she curled up, twisting her body so she could hug her snake-like lower half and stare into the fire. Verz took a final look at Mors before walking over to the door, followed by the rest of the Huntsmen. When she opened it, her eyes narrowed slightly as she glared at the blue demoness standing in front of her. Looking like she was about to run away at any moment, Ryen, the demoness Mors had been duelling, stood awkwardly, her dishevelled, soft blue hair hanging over her face, barely covering her traumatised gaze. "Is it true? Is he really dead?" Verz expression did not change. "Yes." "May I... May I see?" Ryen nearly collapsed in relief. Verz stepped forward causing the demoness push herself back and into the wall, avoiding eye contact, and let the other huntsmen pass by, into the dark corridor. As Kelora passed, she placed her hand on Verz''s shoulder and whispered. "She is attempting to get over the trauma he caused. Let her see his corpse... he is dead now, and if she doesn''t get some closure, she will be crippled for life." Verz nodded once before holding her arm out, indicating that Ryen may enter. "Do no touch his body. He may not have been a Huntsman, but his remains will be treated as such." As Ryen entered, Verz looked at Ethemeusa, who nodded in understanding, before closing the door and proceeding towards the main hall chuckling to herself darkly. "Live on in their nightmares indeed. Hell, that last ability was almost enough to frighten me... Maybe I should have told him to survive no matter the cost." Silence resonated around the room as Ryen stood by the door and cautiously gazed at the bed Mors'' body was laying on, terror and a hint of madness dancing in her eyes as beads of sweat flowed down her forehead. Ethemeusa watched for a bit, before sighing and returning her gaze to the fire. It was obvious the girl was so traumatised; she could barely approach the bed, let alone do anything sinister to Mors'' body, but just in case, she thought it was probably best to give a warning. "Be respectful. His anger and lust for revenge knew no bounds. I am already surprised he has not turned into a Revenant. Get whatever closure you can and let the dead rest in peace." After a few minutes, Ryen finally got the courage to approach the bed and, after staring at the ice white skin of the boy for more than half an hour, reached out, needing to confirm that he was truly dead. Holding her breath, she tentatively touched his wrist, letting out a huge sigh when she could feel no pulse or residue magic, causing a warm, glowing smile to form on her lips. "He''s dead... he is really dead. Ha, I can''t believe I was so scared of such a weakling. As if what I saw could have been real. It was just a terror demons illusions, feeding on my weaknesses." Although she made such statements, if one were to look in her eyes, they would be able to tell that she was trying to comfort herself and that she did not believe her own words. Silence once again filled the room as Ethemeusa chose no to respond, her silky smooth scales reflecting the firelight as her eyes closed, trying to banish the haunting memories that Mors'' death had awoken. Forgetting that the lamia was in the room, a small, crystal-like tear appeared on her demoness''s face and, just as it reached the bottom of her jaw, more followed. "How could you die? How could you leave me with no way to break this damn curse? Even for a demon of wrath this... this is too cruel. I will be cast from my family and looked down on by my entire clan because of you. Every time I close my eyes, all I can see is you staring at me with that hateful smile." Ryen glared at Mors'' body as she raised her small, delicate hand into the air and curled it into a fist. "How dare you die before I could kill you. You..you... take responsibility for this." Mors slowly sank downwards, the sinking feeling the only distinct sense available to him in the void. After his initial acceptance, Mors was overcome with varying emotions but after he had exhausted those, all he could feel was boredom. Eventually, he attempted to look around and was surprised to find that the void like space he found himself in was not barren. Below him, were countless, small grey spots, continuing endlessly into the distance. As time passed and Mors continued his decent, they started to grow, but the new discovery quickly became annoying, not knowing what they were, and Mors had long since retreated into his mind. If I am dead, I wonder where Grim is? He said that when I died, I would be reincarnated into a new body, but it has already been... what seems like a decade. Urg, what if he was lying? Why did I trust him with no proof? After pondering most of his life actions, which did not take long as he was so young, Mors realised that as he drew closer, the orbs had started to morph into the silhouettes of many different people and animals. Most of them became more defined as time passed, while the others remain hazy as if there was not much substance to them. If there is such a thing as the afterlife and this is it then maybe I can find fa- Mors knew that he could never meet his daughter ever again. Due to the Sun Clans actions and his ignorance, he had inadvertently shattered her soul, wiping her from existence. But that momentary lapse caused his to feel despair, causing him to fall at a much faster rate. How... how could I have been so idiotic? Somehow I knew that my actions were causing her pain, but I ignored it, for my selfish greed. Because I couldn''t bear to let her go, to be alone. Without realising it, Mors was now around the chest height of the ghostly figures as they watched him with emotionless faces. As Mors'' emotions continued to rampage, his despair was replaced with rage and anger causing all but one of the shadows distanced themselves from him.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. NO, I will not die like this As he let his rage course through him, Mors felt himself start to slowly rise. I''ll never let them get away with it. Yes, I may be just as guilty and deserve to be punished, but they are getting away with it. They have gotten away with it. The shadow that did not move away glided forward, his tall, muscular frame displaying a large hole carved into his stomach, like some wild beast had torn him open to feast on his insides. "It seems you are not ready to become just a memory, like the rest of us." The figure''s lips did not move, but Mors knew he was the one that had spoken. Who are you? "Me... I''m you. Well, more accurately, I am the personification of single life''s memories that you have yet to remember and... integrate with. Names did not exist when I lived, but our descendants often referred to me as Adam, though at some point, they added some religious connotations to it. I was the first ''human'', just as you are the first of your kind." How do I return? bellowed Mors, though no matter what emotion he felt, his voice carried the same, icy tone, never changing. The figure continued to smile. "Whether or not you can return is up to you. First of all, why do you want to return?" Easy. To rip those responsible for summoning me to this infernal world, causing me so much pain, limb for limb. "Good start, but why do you really want to return?" Adam seemed to be enjoying this conversation as his face hovered closer, his smile widening. Mors floated in silence for a bit, wondering what the apparition in front of him was getting at. After what could have been as short as five seconds, or as long as five centuries he responded. For revenge, my pride and because... I... don''t want to be alone. Adam lifted his hands out and spun around dramatically. "How can you be alone, when every single personification here, Man, woman, child and animal are you?" Mors was stunned as he suddenly realised why the figures crowding around him, but still keeping their distance, were so familiar. Countless entities surrounded him, but, even with that and what Adam was saying, he still felt utterly alone. As if he could read Mors'' mind, Adam continued. "Still feel alone? That''s because we are nothing but memories, reflections of your past self and nothing more. What you seek is companionship." "Mors, let me give you a small bit of advice, one progenitor to another. We have tried many times throughout our existence to distance ourselves from everyone completely. It has never worked and only led to unbearable pain and suffering. We have also tried the complete opposite, to surround ourselves with as many as possible, only to suffer the same, or sometimes an even worse, fate." "Every man... or in our current circumstances, demon, is an island that cannot survive alone. To survive and prosper, we must join other islands, developing them into small fortresses that can withstand the whimsical nature of God... Gods. However, like any good fortress, those who are allowed to enter must be chosen carefully and kept to an absolute minimum, for once they are inside the keep, they can bring it tumbling down in a matter of moments." If Mors had a face, he would have frowned. What are you getting at? Adam ghostly eyes glinted in amusement."Although we have already accepted one into our ''inner circle'', we need the support of many if we are going to more than just survive in this world. The woman called Verz, the one that we have chosen her to be our parental fig-" NO, I HAVEN''T Mors raged. I was forced to by some unknown force, probably a spell or something. What other reason is there for me to be so drawn to her in such a small amount of time. It was probably that bastard, Grim or that angelic pact they keep talking about when they thought I was out of earshot. Adam continued to smile, irritating Mors. "Although many would try to deny it, including a few of the memories here, having a single primary bond is crucial and, in all honesty, we are woefully incomplete without one." Mors felt like growling. However, the only noticeable change was that the darkness around him slightly warped. "Currently, we are nothing more than a child with a few memories and innate reflexes and wisdom. We subconsciously know this, and this is why we have latched onto that woman. This is also why, since accepting her, we have consistently fought and sought her approval. She may not be related by blood, but for all intensive purposes, she is our mother." Sensing Mors'' intent to kill him, Adam couldn''t help but roll his eyes. "Look, it''s not all one-sided, she wants to use us for abilities and, if the memories acquired from that so-called death god are right, then it will help her find some small semblance of peace. I don''t think revenge is the only thing that made her return." Mors'' brain suddenly jarred. Wait... Of course! There has to be a way I can return. Adam''s shoulders hunched, and he shook his head as if dealing with someone incredibly stupid. "Come on, we know that returning that way would be counter-productive, and we would probably find your sorry arse back here the moment you opened your eyes." A slight, grey glow started to envelop Mors causing Adam to soundlessly clap his hands together. "Well, I guess it''s time. The fact you have not turned into a memory yet is proof your body isn''t completely dead." Suddenly Adam''s gaze turned mocking as if looking down on something filthy and disgusting, his speech pattern changing drastically. "You are the reason our daughter''s soul was destroyed. Youcaused her unbearable pain before destroying everything she ever was, or could have been." Even though he had thought it earlier, hearing someone else saying it, even if it was supposedly just a memory, enraged Mors. What do you kno- "You fucked up, you destroyed your own daughter, the one you promised to protect no matter what, and then.... you allowed two of the main instigators to escape because you were too busy being pathetic and succumbing to the desire flaunt your strength, killing weaklings with borrowed power." *Lub* FUCK YOU, Roared Mors, the darkness shaking and twisting as it was alive. "Then, after declaring you would have you pathetic, misplaced revenge, you basically got killed by a granny and a few farmers. Literally how stupid do you have to be? YOU SO OF A B- *Lub* "To get beaten to a pulp and then burnt at the stake. That takes some serious intelligence and strength there... doesn''t it? Ha. To make it even better, you had to get a god to help you. A manipulative, unknown ball of conscience had to help you, the mighty Mors, TWICE. For what? Just so you could be his pawn? Where is this so call pride you spoke of earlier?" *Lub-Dub* The space around Mors started to cackle as tiny, grey tears appeared. "And then... when I thought you couldn''t be any more pathetic... you were killed by the cold... Of all the things a new ''super species'', the first of his kind, a being that comprised the most powerful bloodlines, could die of, and you died because you got too cold. BHAHAHAHAHAHHA totally, utterly pathetic." *Lub-Dub* I''LL KILL YOU, seethed Mors. I will make you beg for mercy before watching the light fade from your eyes. "Oh, you''ll kill me? Apart from being a more than a couple of millennia late, please tell me how you will achieve such a feat? If you didn''t realise it, you''re dead. Killed by your own stupidity. You don''t even have enough substance to define you. What are you going to do? Bore me to death?" "You know what makes it even funnier, that someone the weather can kill is threatening me. You''re not just weak; you''re pitiful, less than nothing in my eyes." *Lub-Dub* ARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRHHH, roared Mors no longer focusing on Adam, even though he had no arms, he willed his being to reach upwards, forcing himself to rise. *Lub-Dub* I WILL SHOW YOU WHO''S PATHETIC. *Lub-Dub* I WILL ERASE YOU FROM EXISTENCE. *Lub-Dub* I WILL DESTROY THOSE THAT STAND IN MYWAY. *Lub-Dub* The void shuddered as it continued to warp, large bolts of grey lightning flickering downward. I WILL BECOME STRONGER. STRONGER THAN YOU. STRONGER THAN EVERYONE. *Lub-Dub* *Lub-Dub* Without realising it, Mors was already high above the Adam, who was now revealing a sly smile. I WILL PROTECT WHAT IS IMPORTANT TO ME, AND I SHALL NEVER FALTER, EVEN IN DEATH. *Lub-Dub* *Lub-Dub* *Lub-Dub* *Lub-Dub* I... SHALL... NEVER... DIE By this point, Mors was already close to where the grey lightning was emanating from. Feeling that he was close, Mors drew on everything he had and released a tyrannical, wrath-filled roar that would have put even the mightiest dragons to shame, echoing outwards into the void. The roar caused the edge of the darkness to ripple before tearing apart, bathing Mors in blinding light as he continued to struggle. One by one, the other ghost-like figures, fell to a single knee, raising their fists to their chests as their stared upwards, their eyes glowing a dark, menacing red. "I am lucky he died so nieve and easy to provoke." An insurmountable distance below, Adam stared up at the small hole as it rapidly closed, his body starting to disperse as a small thread-like stream lead upwards to where Mors had been moments before, similar threads exited from every phantom, but they were much brighter. Moments later, with a jubilant smile, Adam faded from existence, the memories from his life soul energy completely absorbed by Mors, his voice echoing throughout the dark expanse. "The king is dead, long live the king." In response, a deafening roar of voices responded in unison. "Long live the king." Back in the small, heated room, Ryen let out a wailful shriek as a small, gaunt hand wrapped itself around her throat, lifting her slightly into the air as a blast of grey energy exploded outwards, shaking the room violently. Snapped from her thoughts, Ethemeusa rose high as she pulled two small daggers out and prepared to attack. "So his soul could not rest." A warm sensation ran down Ryen''s leg as she stared into the blood red, draconic eyes that she had come to fear, her heart beating so hard it felt like it was going to crack her ribs. "I DIDN''T MEAN IT, STAY DEAD! STAY DEAD. PLLEEASSE MOTHER OF DEMON''S, JUST STAAAAYYY DEAAADD." A slow, unsteady smile spread on the Mors'' face. However, the look in his eye''s caused Ryen''s soul to quake. "Just the person I wanted to see... I believe we have some unfinished business and some raving lunatic has put me in a pretty bad mood." BOM:Summoned - Family - Chapter 14.2 A metal dagger vibrated menacingly after embedding itself into the wooden bedpost, less than an inch from Mors'' head, causing a red line appeared on his check as a small trickle of blood leaked out. Ethemeusa, who had thrown the blade thinking Mors was a revenant, upon hearing him speak, had corrected the trajectory at the last moment, causing it to barely miss his head as she let out a sigh of relief. Letting Ryen, drop to the floor, where she promptly curled into a ball and started quietly sobbing, Mors snarled at Ethemeusa. "What do you think you''re doing?" "I assumed you were a revenant, unable to let go of your grudges." said Ethemeusa, still in shock. "Revenant... no. Unable to let go of my grudges...What do you think?" snarled Mors as he raised his hand to wipe away the blood, letting out a small sigh of relief when he saw it was red and not black. "I''m not even an undead." Ethemeusa''s eyes turned misty. "How? Your heart... it wasn''t beating?" Mors winced in pain, his head feeling like it was about to split open as he relived the memories from Adam''s life almost instantly. A single tear fell from his left eye, catching on the white, scared skin as a weird, indescribable, feeling washed over him as he felt as if something had changed deep within him. Remembering Grim''s warning, he could only let out an irritated sigh. "Great..." Ignoring Mors'' behaviour and before he could even react, Ethemeusa had slid over and picked him up. Pulling him close to her chest and wrapping her tail around them, before releasing a few tears of her own. "I''m so glad. I thought I had failed again." "What are you doing?" hissed Mors as he tried to push away from Ethemeusa, only to realise his muscles had no strength and were shaking pitifully. Ethemeusa squeezed tighter as Mors continued to hiss in annoyance. "Shhh, don''t struggle. Your body had shut down from the cold due to your thermoconforming nature... because you''re cold blooded like me. You need to keep warm and regain your strength. Right now, even a newborn could overpower you easily." Mors stopped struggling as he thought about what had happened, the feeling of slowly getting colder, heavier and the overwhelming exhaustion that assaulted his body and mind. Feeling like Ethemeusa wasn''t trying to trick him, Mors instead found her behaviour weird. "Why do you care so much?" "Does it matter?" responded the Lamia, as she looked down into Mors'' eyes, a warm smile appearing on her lips. "As long as you''re OK, everything else is irrelevant." Her words were so shocking to Mors that he could do nothing but stare dumbly, finally snapping from his daze by a glowing yellow crystal embedded into the Ethemeusa''s leather armour. The yellow light pulsated in time with a familiar, feminine voice. "Eth, The branch families have found out about the demoness''s submission and have started to move. Markek''s called in favour. Secure the demoness and get her to point C. Rock is on his way. The rest of us are running decoy. Do not injure or engage them unless necessary." Ethemeusa put her hand to the crystal, causing it to glow. "Captain, you won''t bel-" "Acknowledge the command," interrupted an unmistakably irritated Verz. "I do not want to be dragged into demon politics any more than I have to." "Affirmative Captain." Ethemeusa''s vision flickered down to the floor where the demoness was still laying as she quickly retrieved her knife from the bedpost. The crystal flared back to life, this time Verz voice had a hint of sadness. "Try to bring Mors'' corpse but if it is not possible, abandon it." A deep, rumbling growl emanated from Mors at Verz''s words as Ethemeusa placed him on the bed, her tail slowly unwinding. "Don''t worry; I am not leaving you behind. I promise." Wiping away the trails left from her tears, the bottom half of Ethemesua started to contort, the green scales turning to a light green, smooth skin and splitting in two as her single tail transformed into legs. Mors once again staring dumbly, only now realising that she had a snakes tail.The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. Spotting his gaze, Ethemeusa chuckled as she grabbed her leather pants and, after putting them on, sitting on the bed to equip her boots. "You look like you have never seen a Lamia''s natural form before." Mors shook his head. "Nope, and after seeing it, I have to ask. Why would you ever want to appear human? Your natural form looks so much better." Nodding in agreement. Ethemeusa stood up and started extracting many of the red, heatstones in the wall, filling her pockets. "Although these ape legs look disgusting, they are a lot easier to move around in, most of the time." "And why isn''t ther-" Mors started his next question as Ethemeusa wrapped Mors in the bed sheet that had the same red stones, although much smaller, embroidered in it. "We mate and do our business in our natural form so have no need for any extra human anatomy," responded Ethemeusa matter of factly as she continued to wrap Mors in the sheet, pinning his arms to his sides. "Not that I have ever done so but apparently it makes it... quite interesting, mating with other non-reptilian, humanoid species." Mors'' head still hurt and he had a lot of questions, lamia mating practices not being one of them, and struggled against the restricting blanket. "Hey, I can''t fight if I am like this." "That''s the point. The moment the demoness''s pursuers realise you are still alive, you will be their target as you are technically part of the main family due to her submitting to you," responded Ethemeusa. "Knowing you, a small taunt and you will be flying off the handle again, so I think it''s best to restri- keep you safe." "So why are you stopping me from defending myself?" growled Mors, understanding what Ethemeusa''s true intentions were. Even though it irritated him, at the moment, he could feel how weak he was so could let it slide. However, he really didn''t like the idea of not being able to move, feeling a slight sense of panic welling up within him. Ethemeusa pushed Mors lightly. And although he tried to resist, he fell backwards onto the bed. "Because your body is only starting to work again. If you were to fight and use a single darkness skill, you could kill yourself. Darkness naturally absorbs most energy types, that includes your bodies heat. Normally this wouldn''t be a problem, but as you are cold blooded and have such a high affinity to it, it could be fatal. When you evolve, it should be fine but for now, just do as I say." "So I am to lay here and wait for them to kill me? Do you want to paint a target on the blanket? Why not just cut my arms and legs off? Hell, you could just kill me now and make it even easier for them," raged Mors. Ethemeusa smiled. "As I stated, I won''t leave you. Even though the captain said that we should avoid combat, that is only for the demoness. You are a different matter and for all purposes, one of us." Noticing her reassuring gaze, which irritated him, Mors glared back. "Seriously, what is with you? Why do you care so much?" Sadness flickered across the lamia''s eyes momentarily as she realised that without divulging some information, Mors would not trust her and was likely to do something stupid. "Due to a dumb decision, I lost those that were important to me to the cold. Your situation reminded me of that time and, at least until we get you somewhere warmer, I will treat you as if you were my own." Mors wanted to tell Ethemeusa how ridiculous that was, that they were not even the same species but knew it would be pointless. He had the feeling that she was not only telling the truth but she would probably take on every demon in this citadel if she had to. "Not an island but a fortress huh," said Mors as Adam''s words started to make sense and he felt himself relax a bit, only to feel a cold chill creep down his spine. The door exploded open, and Rock marched in, picking up the sobbing demoness and throwing her over his shoulder before looking at Ethemeusa, who had pulled a dagger, seemingly out of thin air, and was poised to strike. "Sorry should have knoc-" His eyes landed on Mors who was staring back. "What the fu-" "SHE''S DOWN HERE." A male voice, still a fair distance away, echoed down the corridor, causing Ethemeusa to grab Mors and, holding him close, ran out the door and in the opposite direction, quickly followed by Rock. "Where''s Beth?" hissed Ethemeusa, irritated that Rock would make so much noise. "If I hadn''t sensed you at the last moment, I would have ruined one of my good throwing knives on that thick skull of yours." "Vel has her. She wasn''t pleased that we had to leave the feast midway and ended up filling her clothes with food," chuckled Rock, his large frame almost taking up the entire corridor. "She must have the sin of gluttony or greed. Anyway..." Rocks tried to look at the bundled blanket Ethemeusa was carrying. "Is he undead?" New voices now reverberated down the hallway, causing the foursome turned around a corner sharply and up a flight of stairs. "That''s just goblins for you and no, he''s not," responded Ethemeusa as Mors felt her muscles slightly relax. "I don''t know what happened, but it looks like he was in some sort of stasis." Mors was wrapped too tightly and could only frown, pushing down the building panic he felt from not being able to move his body. "Who the hell is Beth? And I swear to whichever god you follow, I will pay you back for this." Mors'' threat caused Rock to laugh. "Already back to his old, threatening self... The Captain will be relieved." BOM:Summoned - Family - Chapter 14.3 The sound of quiet sobbing, leather creaking and heavy footsteps resonated along the narrow corridors as Ethemeusa and Rock carried Mors and Ryen, occasionally changing direction as they avoided the small groups of demons hunting them, towards the citadel''s northern exit. Without being detected, a testament to Ethemeusa''s sensory skills, they finally managed to lose their initial pursuers and, after fifteen minutes, they had crossed the small expanse that connected the two fortresses at the peak of the mountain before beginning their decent. As they leapt down the twisting stairwells and sped through the sparsely traversed corridors, the group was in a jovial mood. Well, Ethemeusa and Rock were. Not only was this relatively exciting, most of the ice demons not being a match for them, but Mors was alive, and thus, the mission was not a complete failure. However, the other two were anything but happy. Ryen was still mumbling about how unfair her life was, cursing Mors between small sobs, as Mors'' reptilian pupils were rapidly dilating as his expression revealed him to be on the verge of panic. It started off as a small, niggling feeling when Ethemeusa was wrapping him in the blanket, pinning his arms and tail to his side, however, as their escape had progressed, it had multiplied to the point where his breaths were ragged, and a sheen of sweat had appeared on his brow. His pride was the only thing stopping him from screaming out and having a complete meltdown. Feeling the chill of darkness energy slowly gathering in her arms, Ethemeusa, who was continuously scanning in front of them for threats, hissed at the trapped demon. "I told you not to use any darkness skills. I have you, and you''re safe." "I am going to rip your throat out," whimpered Mors, not realising that his own demonic abilities were consuming his fear as well as multiplying it, making things much worse. Ethemeusa''s brow twitched at hearing Mors'' panicked voice, and she looked down, her eyes going wide in astonishment and confusion. Why is he panicking? He''s completely safe. Struggling with all his strength, which at this point was even too weak to break free of the blanket, Mors'' tail escaped the sheets confines, and with the ability to move it freely, his irrational fear reduced significantly enabling him to regain some of his senses. Mors glared at Ethemeusa intensely causing her steps to slightly falter, feeling as she was dropped into freezing water, before he spoke in a cold, terrifying tone. "I will kill you for this." Resisting the urge to drop Mors, Ethemeusa gaze returned to their surrounds. "Even though I don''t know what I have done, I am sorry." The sorrow in her voice made Mors momentarily regret his threat, but his rage overwhelmed it. DAMN YOU ADAM. YOU AND YOUR CURSED MEMORIES! Mors had the creeping suspicion that his personality had somewhat shifted and from his recent behaviour, he was now certain. In the last thirty minutes, Ethemeusa had shown some kindness, offered reassuring words and had done what was in his best interests, and he found it comforting to the point where even though he threatened to kill her, he had no intention of acting on it. Something that had never happened before. He was always semi-serious when he threatened Verz and Kelora, accepting that he was nowhere near strong enough to carry it out. Mors'' aura flared as ground his teeth in anger, thinking about what might happen to his sense of self as he regained his memories. Suddenly Grims warning that he needed to solidify his personality made sense. Even just the limited memories of past deaths and Adam''s life was enough to drastically changing his character. The fear that he may cease to exist as another personality took over started to form. Mors was brought out of his dark thoughts as something cold touched his head, realising it was another aura restricting headband and immediately felt his mind clear. Without looking down, Ethemeusa, still running at top speed, the doors and hallways blurring as they passed, tried to calm him. "Calm your temper for now; they will find us. Once we are safe, we can talk."Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! Mors'' face scrunched up as he attempted to keep the hostility out of his voice. "Why? I can rage all I want with this bloody girlish headband on. Are you tired of living or do you just enjoy watching me suffer?" "I think it looks rather cute," said Ethemeusa as she took a glance down before almost instantly regretting it and turning away, repressing the shiver felt when looking into Mors'' enraged eyes. Mors ground his teeth but said nothing, for the first time grateful he had been restrained, as he imagined gouging out Ethemeusa''s beautiful, reptilian eyes. Beautiful? Mors shook his head as if to dispell the thought as a low rumbling sound could be heard below them, small amounts of ice shaken from the window ledges. The crystal on Ethemeusa''s armour flickered to life, and Verz''s voice rang out. "The gates have been sealed, we are outside, but they know you''re coming. You need to find another way." Rock looked out the window. "Two gold I can get out in twenty seconds." "Four if we all survive," responded Ethemeusa before feeling momentarily weightless as the elemental wrapped his free arm around her waist, in between her and Mors, and pulled them towards him. Rock''s grey skin seemed to darken as he jumped sideways before turning his back towards the window, shattering the ice easily and tearing large chunks from the wall as they burst through. As they started to fall, the wind whistling past their ears, Rock let out an explosive shout. "INCOMING!" Below them, Verz and the rest were all looking up with an astonished expression before scattering in every direction. During a battle, massive sheets of ice would cover the windows making up for their aesthetic weakness, however, as the gates had only just been closed, the other defences had not yet activated, and as the windows were only a foot thick, Rocks empowered body easily smashed through. Slamming into the floor and kicking up a huge snow cloud, Rock stood up with Ethemeusa slung under one arm and Ryen under the other. "I think it''s time to leave. Four gold to me." The huntsmen immediately broke into a run, leaving afterimages as crystal-like roars erupted from the ice citadel, the gates slowly starting to re-opening with a deep rumble. Ethemeusa spat out snow as she shivered slightly from the cold. "Rock.... I am not paying." Rock laughed. "Sorry Eth, a deal is a deal. Four gold when we get somewhere safe unless you want to have another bet?" "I think I''ll pass," said Ethemeusa. "I have had enough for one day." After hours of running, the group slid to a stop in front of a small hunting lodge, a white mask hanging above the doorway, looking strikingly similar to the ones the Huntsmen previously wore. Verz let out a relieved sigh. "Well, all things considered, that went pretty well. Kelora, take the demoness back to headquarters. Who knows how far the branch families will travel for the chance to become royalty." Kelora glared at her Captain as she grabbed Ryen from Rocks arms and purple, bat-like wings erupted from the two slits in her leather armour. "I am not some sort of courier service. I expect compensation for this." Slightly bending her knees, she jumped into the air and, almost silently, started flying into the distance with Ryen dangling precariously from her arms. Clapping her hands, Beth, the demonic goblin, laughed before retrieving more food from her mismatch of clothes, crumbs spilling onto a vexed Velcea, before shoving it into her mouth and giving Ethemeusa a thumbs up. After watching the two disappear into the distance, Verz turned around and walked towards Ethemeusa, holding out her arms. "I think it''s time we dealt Mors'' body, it stinks." Ethemeusa looked down at Mors, who''s head was hanging limply, his face slack apart from the small hint of a smile at the edge of his lips before shaking her head in pity and subconsciously holding him away from her body. Just before Verz was about to take him, Mors opened his eye "Bo-" *BANG* Mors is sent flying, head first slamming into the snow and sliding a good couple of meters away. A smile twitched on Verz face but was rapidly concealed as she marched towards the demon. "Ahh... I am so scared. He has come back from the dead," said Verz in a flat, emotionless tone. "Who would have thought that a wolfkin, who has the best natural senses in the world, would have been tricked by such a shoddy performance." Walking forward, Verz cracked her knuckles. "Who do you think I am, little demon? Now, hold still... this might hurt a bit." "Captain, he hasn''t recovered yet!" shouted Ethemeusa. Verz stared at Mors as he struggled to stand. "Ha, I hit him with at least five percent of my strength and he can still stand, he''s fine. I have the feeling he is spoiling for a fight so might as well get it done before we rest." Mors staggered to his feet. "Bring it; Maybe I''ll kill you and leave your body behind." Verz stared at Mors for a few seconds before bursting into laughter. "Aww, are you upset I didn''t put your smelly corpse above the lives of others?" Grinding his teeth Mors glared at Verz. However, he didn''t have a reply, causing her to laugh even harder. "What a wimp of a demon. Kelora would be having a field day at this." Mors turned and slowly walked to the cabin''s door, his feet being freed when he was knocked from Ethemeusa''s grip, muttering under his breath. "Tell me about it... absolutely pathetic." As they were about to follow him, the huntsmen quickly drew their weapons, Velcea dropping Beth to the floor, and Verz released a bone-chilling growl. "You must be tired of living!" BOM:Summoned - Family - Chapter 14.4 - Updated The moment Verz''s words left her mouth, the small clearing erupted into fierce battle as an assortment of brightly coloured spells and arrows exploded from the treeline, hissing through the air as they descended upon the group. Without a seconds hesitation, Rock slammed his fist to the ground, causing a large wall of snow infused earth to rise, blocking the majority of attacks, as Velcea fired a storm of arrows towards the opposite side, causing the barrage of spells to falter as a few shouts pain erupted from the woods. "Defensive positions; I will disrupt the casters," bellowed Verz as her figure flickered, disappearing into the tree line only to be shortly followed by foreign, chilling screams. In the timespan of a few seconds, over a hundred lethal spells and projectiles had been launched into the clearing, most too fast for Mors to see, let alone respond to, causing him to have a confused, almost dumb look on his face. As his brain tried to comprehend what was going on, a fireball hit the ground in front of Mors, exploding and sending him flying into the wooden wall of the cabin, knocking the wind out of him along with a significant amount of blood, before sliding to the floor with a dull thud. Beth had already managed to bury herself in the snow, near Velcea''s feet, in an instinctual attempt to hide. However, as her long, thin tail was sticking out, even though she tried to disappear, not only was it not very effective, it also ended up causing Velcea more trouble as she nearly tripped over the tail as she dodged elegantly around the goblin while attempting to retaliate against the magical onslaught with her bow. While this was happening, flames surrounded Ethemeusa, majestically swirling as she caused arrows and spells to combust in midair, sending those close to it off course with a simple flick of her wrist. Elegantly backflipping, the Lamia raised both her palms into the air causing the flames dancing around her to erupt upwards in an awe-inspiring column, illuminating the surrounding area. Although it was not completely dark, the sun had almost set causing the dark grey clouds, blocking out its dying light, to feel extremely oppressing but this all changed when similar pillars of fire broke out in the distance giving the skyline an eerie glow. Ethemeusa briefly revealed a relieved smile before yelling out to the others. "Five minutes until reinforcements. These crazy bastards will regret ambushing us so close to Flatner." By this time, Mors had struggled to his feet and was leaning on the remains of the burning building. Clutching his head, his vision swimming, Mors'' body convulsed as he tried to draw a breath. The warm sheet that had been wrapped around him burnt at an alarming rate, turning to ash within seconds but was completely ignored. His affinity with fire was high enough to protect him, the flames and heat causing only a mild itch. After what seemed like an eternity for the winded demon, Mors was able to draw a breath, however, instead of relief, his mind jarred as his pupils fiercely constricted. A smell, one that he would never be able to forget, caused his top lip to rise in a feral snarl and his head to snap towards the woods on the right as he released a terrifying hiss that caused the nearby Huntsmen to shudder. Beth released a small whimper from her hiding place under the snow. Vivid memories of the blood red summoning room surfaced in Mors'' mind. The agonising screams of his daughter as her soul was shredded, the feeling of utter despair and rage at his powerlessness, the smirking, cloaked man that this scent matched perfectly as he disappeared in a blaze of green flame, escaping from Mors'' retribution. Mors'' struggled to not lose himself to his anger but, when the wind carried a familiar chuckle, he finally lost all reason. Shaking violently, Mors released a bestial roar and charged towards the forest in a mad dash, dissolving into a black mist as he entered the treeline. "MORS!" screamed Ethemeusa, currently using a firewall to evaporate two ice spears heading for Velcea, as she spotted him enter the woods. "Vel, Lockdown!" "Damn it." Spotting Ethemeusa sprinting to where Mors had just vanished, Velcea quickly grabbed the goblin''s tail and dodged back towards Rock, dragging the crying girl as she covered her face. "Whats going on? Why have you broken formation?" rumbled the Elemental as he continued to repair his earth wall while hurling stones into the woods at such a tremendous velocity, any tree trunks caught in its path were instantly obliterated, sending debris flying outwards. "The fucking demon ran. Eth went after him," shouted Velcea, discarding her bow, now she had run out of arrows, before drawing the sword on Rock''s waist. "I am going after her; she''s a glass cannon." "Fuck," grumbled Rock, "That shit is going to get someone killed with his antics." Without responding, Velcea rolled to the ground, narrowly avoiding an earth spear, and within half a breath''s time, had disappeared into the dark woods. Not even two hundred meters away, still in his shadow form, Mors narrowly dodged a sword that had been aimed at his head, that had materialised out of the shadows, spinning his body in a clockwise motion and dodging two arrows that were glowing with bright, white light. DAMN IT A cold, haughty voice echoed outwards as, Mors briefly materialised to kick off a tree, rapidly changing direction as the area he would have been exploded in ice spikes, sending splinters of wood flying everywhere. "Seems we overestimated you demon. Who knew you would come looking for your own death?" Mors did not respond, not because he was still lost in his rage, but because even a millisecond''s hesitation would end his life. His shadow ability far outclassed most movement skills, enabling him to put up some semblance of a fight, as proven when facing Verz, who was so much stronger than him. But even though he might be able to dodge a few knockout blows, it was still like comparing heaven and earth, and even when she was half-hearted, he would still lose in less than a minute.Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel. Grinding his teeth in frustration, Mors could instinctually tell the people surrounding him were weaker than Verz. However, they had similar abilities to him and were without a doubt, elite killers with the blood of countless people on their hands. Mors realised it was only a matter of time until the cold slowed him down, or he made a mistake; both would result in his death. The only things keeping him in the fight, if one could call dodging fighting, apart from his skills, was his instincts and his secondary vision. He had discovered it when Verz had blindfolded him. It was only faint at first, but within a few hours, Mors could see the blood vessels, organs and heat signature of every creature, as long as it was bathed in darkness, and he couldn''t see it via his normal, human-like sight. Although it initially seemed powerful, due to only being able to see the blood and heat of living creatures, he was blind to any inanimate objects like weapons, armour or projectiles but he still had some idea, if he used his imagination, of what people were using by their body''s actions. Mors sighed in his mind. Even though they said they had overestimated him, judging by their actions they were extremely cautious. Mor suspected this was due to the foxkin not knowing that he was using his soul''s power in the summoning room and thought Mors was pretending to be at a disadvantage. Shit. Mors'' momentary lapse, thinking about what they had meant caused him to hesitate slightly, and the second he did, four swords appeared from the shadows, each targeting a separate vital point. This wasn''t as bad as it first looked, as there was a way that he could get out of it with minimal damage, however, that would put him in the path of two, glowing arrows that had just been released to his right. Instinct told Mors to dodge the swords, as the arrows would deal less damage but it also told him that is what they were expecting him to do. He didn''t even know what magic those arrows were imbued with. A voice broke Mors from this thoughts. "INFERNO!" Everything around Mors, including himself, was engulfed in a pillar of fire, instantly destroying the arrows and sending the swordsmen screaming into the shadows. Although it had saved him from the first threat, it also put him at an extreme disadvantage, as the bright light had illuminated the area, forcing Mors out of his shadow state. The sudden, unexpected change, along with his momentum, caused Mors to smash heavily into a tree, where his shoulder was instantly impaled by a black arrow, the force causing him to spin before falling to the ground. "KILL HER NOW!" screamed the voice as Ethemeusa appeared next to Mors, just as his tail was about to be grabbed by a cloaked figure. Twisting the man''s wrist, causing it to snap loudly, she flipped the man over her back and slammed a small dagger into his eye socket. Without stopping she kicked off the floor, twisting her body in midair to avoid two spikes made of earth, that carried on, disappearing into the darkness with a loud thud. Still spinning, a dagger flew from her leg and into the darkness, eliciting a scream from the shadows as an arrow barely missed her head. As she landed gracefully and was about to grab Mors, her face contorted in pain as a large chunk of her chest, just below her left armpit, was torn away by an earth spike. Blood splattered over Mors'' face as he stared, not understanding what had happened as the attack had been much quicker than the rest, giving no warning. Without pausing to inspect the damage, Ethemeusa span around, crossing two thin daggers that appeared from her sleeves, meeting the long, heavy sword that crashed downwards, barely stopping just above her head. Arms shaking from the strain, Ethemeusa''s green eyes looked up, glaring at the middle-aged man with orange hair and two, fox-like ears protruding from his head, as he revealed a haunting smile. "Looks like I caught a Lieutenant." Mors scrambled to his feet and backed against the tree, releasing a deep growl. This scent, this aura. This is the cloaked man from the summoning cave. The one that had escaped in the green mist after laughing at me. The flickering flames from Ethemeusa''s inferno spell, still burning on the tree trunks, caused the shadows to dance as the man''s creepy smile continued to grow, his gaze still on the lamia kneeling in front of him. "I always knew a child would get you killed; I never expected it to be a demon, though." A defiant smile crept onto Ethemeusa''s lips. "I am not dead ye-" Her words stopped as a dozen black arrow shafts protruded from her back. "What was that?" laughed the foxkin as he kicked Ethemeusa in the right side of her chest, spinning her around sending her toppling forward, landing at Mors'' feet. Lifting her shaking arm, she reached out to Mors and let out a whisper, the fear of her impending death evident in her eyes. "Mors... run." Just as her hand was about to reach Mors, he stepped back, letting it fall weakly to the floor. "My, my. How cold. This woman sacrificed everything to protect you and yet you can''t even bear to give her some comfort in her last moments." cackled the man, his smile contorting into a mocking expression as he looked at Mors. "Not that it matters. You can work it out in the afterlife." Just as he was about to step forward, he vanished in a blur as a sword passed through where he had been moments before, leaving a wide arc of blood, showing the sword had done at least some damage. Suddenly, black cloaked, white-masked figures flickered past the small fires as they engaged the unseen enemy, steel and explosions resonating through the woods. "RETREAT" bellowed the man, his figure nowhere to be seen. Verz, foreign blood covering her body, stood where he had been moments before, her sword dripping as a gruesome testament to its recent actions, before she quickly moved beside Ethemeusa and rolled her over. "ETH!" "G..g..kill them... kill them all," stuttered Ethemeusa, struggling for breath, panic and hatred dancing in her eyes. Hesitating for a moment, Verz stood up and glared at Mors before disappearing into the shadows, letting out a wrath-filled scream. Mors, not a single trace of emotion on his face, stood as if he were a statue, staring down at Ethemeusa. One of the Huntsmen suddenly appeared and placed their hands over Ethemeusa''s gaping wound as they started glowing in a dull green light. Almost instantly, they shook their head and let out a mournful breath. They knew that the damage was too severe and the only thing they could do was to try and relieve some of their comrade''s pain before death inevitably took her. Ethemeusa looked up, her reptilian eyes locking onto Mors. "I-" "Why do you care?" Mors'' voice was beyond cold, even causing the Huntsman to flinch. A pained smile appeared on her lips, blood streaming out of her mouth, coating Ethemeusa''s white teeth. "What does it matter... you''re alive. Even in defeat, I am victorious." Ethemeusa''s body convulsed in pain as the panic in her eyes increased. "Promise me... you will look out for my daughters. I need to know they will be safe." Mors stared down, his face locked in his emotionless mask. "Ple...se. Promise......me." Ethemeusa''s pupils relaxed as the brightness from her green, reptilian eyes faded and her head rolled to the side. Standing up, the huntsman looked at Mors with utter disgust and hatred before walking away and disappearing into the shadows to join his comrades, leaving the clearing in near silence. As the small fires crackled and hissed, Mors continued to stare into Ethemeusa''s eyes before he slowly knelt down, and for a reason, he did not understand, he closed her eyelids. Mors reached down and curled his fingers around an ornate neckless, cast in the shape of a snake eating its own tail, before breaking the chain with a small tug and standing up, slowly walking back towards the cabin. After a few steps, he paused and looked back over his shoulder, his eyes almost as emotionless as his expression. "Idiot. One life does not equal another, thus you have given me a debt that can never be repaid." BOM:Summoned - Out of the ashes - 15.1 The gentle light of the two moons, partially obscured by cloud, fell upon a large, well-maintained graveyard, casting long, twisting shadows from the countless headstones. High stone walls surrounded the Cemetery, separating it from the rest of the fortress. Not even the slight breeze blowing overhead disturbed the unnatural stillness and the almost silent, repetitive knocking that echoed emanating from one of the newer headstones at the top of a small hill. As he had done every night since the funeral, a little over four weeks ago, Mors was leaning against the back of Ethemeusa''s tombstone, lightly hitting the back of his head as he stared emotionlessly into the sky. I hate this world... no, I guess I just hate life. Dark, almost black, bags hung heavy under his eyes while his simple pants and shirt had been reduced to rags, displaying large, purple bruises and deep cuts that littered his worn out body, a testament to the training he had put himself through every day in the nearby forest. Combined with his extensive scars, the most notable being the one on his face, in the cold light of the moon, he almost looked like an undead creature that had crawled from its grave. Mors had not spoken to anyone since the ambush, not that he cared. Even Verz refusing to look at him or the shadow bolt, that had launched him across the clearing from Velcea could not elicit even a simple reaction. He simply stood back up, dusted himself off and waited for the next blow. Rock had looked like he was about to do something dangerous but, after stomping up to Mors, he simply spat on him and walked away, cursing the day they met him. Having nowhere else to go and knowing that the Sun Clan would kill him the first chance they had, he followed them back to the fortress, keeping to himself as best he could. Understandably, the Huntsman who tried to help Ethemeusa had told everyone of Mors'' actions during her final moments, ensuring that he was treated as an outcast; at best ignored, at worst a punching bag to vent their anger and grief. Eventually, a female huntsman, her eyes filled with disgust, threw some clothes at him before cursing under her breath and leaving. That one encounter, excluding the hate-filled glares and seemingly random beatings from unknown huntsmen, which Mors had subtly used both as training and a warped sort of repentance, was the only acknowledgement his existence had got. Shakily, Mors lifted one of his hands and stared at the blisters and welts before letting it sink back to his side, carefully tracing the small intricate scales of a snake charm he had taken from Ethemeusa. Not a fortress but an island ... HA. This is what I get for caring. This is what I get for being so stupid and weak, nothing but pain and misery. What did he know? Failure. After all he was just yet another pathetic moron who excelled in getting those close to him killed. Smashing his head with a larger amount of force, causing a small circle of blood to stain his white hair, Rock''s words floated into Mors'' mind. He now understood what he meant when he said that the Huntsmen were more like a large family than a military organisation. Not only in hierarchical structure but in how, to most of the huntsmen, they acted similarly to if he had personally killed a close blood relative yet they could do nothing about it without disrespecting the wishes of the dead. Mors sighed. He had considered leaving, but from the few bits he overheard, he knew the Sun Clan were waiting for an opportunity to make their move and he would rather chew his own legs off than make things easy for them... again, hell, even if he wanted to die he knew he wouldn¡¯t have the luxury of staying dead and he knew that he would be unable to let bygones be bygones. Mors also had no intention of carrying out Grim''s command, wiping out the entire clan, and had only put two of its members onto his list. Fuck Death and his plans. I am done with this shit. Going back to hitting his head, Mors started reliving his life once again, something he did most of the nights to simply avoid seeing Ethemeusa''s last moments or the visions of his past. Mors clenched his hands, his nails tearing into his damaged skin and drawing fresh blood. Why am I such a fucking moron? Why do I have to let emotions and instinct rule me? Like this, I am no better than a common, unthinking beast. I might as well put a collar on my neck and tie myself to a tree. Trying to redirect his thoughts away from his over abused, self-loathing, Mors idly remembered that the Huntsmen initiation was in three days, although he doubted he still had the right to attend. He had not even received a status stone yet which, from eavesdropping on some potential recruits, was required to enter the arena. Who cares. All I need to do is get stronger. Strong enough to survive on my own and prote- to destroy the whims of both mortal and god. If the Huntsmen are a dead end, I will need to look elsewhere. It''s not as if they are the only ones in this messed up world that can teach me how to live... kill with these strange abilities. Holding the charm into the sky, in front of the Moon, Mors repressed the burning desire to lose himself to his rage one last time and see how many Huntsmen he could drag to hell with him.A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. I am sure the only reason why they haven''t really tried to kill me is because it would be like spitting on Ethemeusa''s memory. Letting out a dark chuckle, Mors placed the charm in his pocket. It''s not like I could actually do it at the moment anyway. All bark and no bite. Pathetic. Totally and utterly pathetic. No wonder I have been nothing but a puppet, dancing easily to everyone else''s tune. Mors let out another sigh, this time, laced with a fair amount of anger. Perception is reality and reality is perception. In their minds, I am as guilty as the person who cast the spell and in a way, I guess they are right. If I only paused a moment and controlled my temper, I would have known it was a trap. I couldn''t sense a single creature and I guess the others couldn''t either or else we wouldn''t have been ambushed so easily. Then all of a sudden I could smell him, exactly the same as in that damn pit and lost all reason. I fell for it like the idiot I am and it cost the life of someone who seemed to care for me. Mors shook his head. Why am I getting so worked up? I am no toothless baby angel... It''s not like I knew her well enough to really care and I cannot change the past. I guess it''s because I owe her my life. She saved me from my own stupidity, and I can''t stand the fact I couldn''t even offer an ounce of sympathy or compassion. Mors took a deep breath, letting it out and watching the rising vapour. It doesn''t matter. It is clear what I must become if I am to gain enough strength to exact my vengeance, even if it is only a selfish desire to make myself feel better. Mors'' red eyes glowed menacingly as his jaw clenched. First of all, I must acquire a status stone and know my own strengths and to gain power. Only after that will I be able to kill the black and silver knights, the Sun Clan''s Patriarch and that foxkin bastard that killed Ethemeusa. Mors knew he was doing nothing different than before but at least this time, he understood his actions would have consequences and there would undoubtedly be collateral damage, His rage would no longer be his master, it would be his tool. Their lives didn¡¯t matter excepting that their death laid no further burden on him. With the information from Grim, lack of sleep, his past deaths and the new memories unlocked by Ethemeusa''s passing, where he failed to save or protect those he held dear, Mors was teetering on the edge of insanity as his personality was rapidly warping. Though the new memories did not directly cause him pain, in a way, he felt they were a thousand times worse. Watching yourself die is one thing, watching the ones you love, or you feel like you should love, that something completely different, mused Mors as he tried to distract himself, not noticing a dark line of liquid that was rapidly gathering under his eyes DAMN IT! Why couldn''t I say anything? Why couldn''t I just say yes? Even if it was a lie. She fucking saved my life and even when she was at death''s door, she did not blame me and did I do... not a god damned thing. Regret, fear, death. That is all that I am... I am like a damn Wraith. A cursed being that only brings death and destruction to those around him. Mors release another, dark, soul-chilling laugh the lines of liquid rapidly gathered into pitch black teardrops, slowly streaking down his face. If that is what this world wants me to be, so be it. The image of the two despairing lamia twins flashed in his mind causing him to snap one of his pointed teeth as he violently ground his jaw, the teardrops flicking off and dispersing into small puffs of smoke. I guess I have other responsibilities than lighting a match and watching the world burn. Mors'' strained, worn-out body screamed out in agony as he stood up and slowly walked around the headstone, before stopping in front of it. "Goodbye, Ethemeusa. I will not be returning to torment your resting place anymore," whispered Mors, his face twitching as the emotions he was bottling up threatened to pour forth. "I am sorry I could not comfort you in your last moments. I accept, though I will only be able to act from the shadows, I will protect your daughters as if they were my o-" Mors'' voice caught in his throat, "better than I would my own, and hopefully, if anything does happen, I will have acquired enough strength to pay you back, even though the price of a life can never truly be repaid, even when saving another." Stepping back, Mors took a deep breath. He knew he stood out too much and that if he was going to have any chance of survival, especially on his own, he would need to blend in with the world. A phrase popped into his head, causing him to frown as he contemplated its meaning. The nail that sticks up, gets the hammer. Mors'' hands flickered with dark energy as he slowly raised them to his head and grasped hold of his horns, pulling with all his might as he let out a deep, beast-like roar. For a few seconds, it appeared like nothing was happening, but as the dark energy in Mors'' hands exploded, bone-shattering sounds echoed outwards as blood poured down his face, his horns snapped roughly down to his skull. After taking a moment to compose himself, Mors gently placed the horns beside the grave and started channelling dark mana into his hair, steadily turning it black, stemming the flow of blood as well as obscuring the bony stumps that had, moments ago, been his horns, before ripping the sleeves off his shirt and wrapping them around his head and tying them together. If he was going to survive, he needed to train every ability at his disposal while fading into the background. His eyes had caused him enough trouble so far. "Goodbye," said Mors as he turned and started to walk away blood still dripping from his skull and violently frothing upon the cold graves of the fallen. "Now that was something I was not expecting to see." A hard, feminine voice resonated in Mors'' ear, causing him to jump. "Do you know what a demon removing his own horns symbolises?" Snapping his head to the side, Mors saw a familiar figure with his secondary, heat-sensitive sight and quickly stepped backwards into a crouch, rapidly absorbing the dark mana around him, as he prepared to flee. ¡°Like I give a damn about this cursed world and its ridiculous culture. Well, I guess you couldn¡¯t ignore me forever. A fitting location for a final battle, don¡¯t you think?¡± "If I wanted you dead, I wouldn¡¯t stain the resting place of my comrades with your idiotic blood," snarled Verz, her huntsmen''s mask reflecting the moonlight as her black cloak almost entirely disguising her amongst the twisted shadows. ¡°We need to talk." BOM:Summoned - Out of the ashes - 15.2 As clouds drifted past the two moons, Mors and Verz stood facing each other, one prepared to fight to the death at a moments notice, the other''s eyes showing a slightly confused expression as her gaze flickered to the bloody horns on the ground. "I said we need to talk," repeated Verz coldly, "or are you tired of living? Even with that movement skill of yours, you will not be able to escape." Small wisps of black mist flowed around Mors'' body, ready to activate, as he absorbed the ambient mana from the darkness around him. "I am listening, am I not?" Verz took a step forward, her silver eyes sparkling dangerously through the standard Huntsmen mask. "So why does it seem you''re preparing for a fight?" "Let''s end the facade. You are here to question me and, depending on my answers, kill," hissed Mors. "You and the rest suspect me of being a Sun Clan infiltrator, and seeing as a requirement to join the Huntsmen is to hate them so much a tranquillity stone turns red, it''s easy to work out that all this hatred is not entirely due to being a demon or Ethemeusa''s death." Verz chuckled. "So, the little demon has grown up a little and started to use his grey matter. Though you''re a little off. I was going to remove your head from your body the moment you left this sacred place but, after witnessing your little show," Verz pointed to Mors'' horns. ", now curiosity is getting the better of me. I know it''s foolish, but I suddenly have the urge to hear you out." Mors sneered. "To be honest, I am surprised it has taken you this long to act. It must have been hard not moving when you think you have a Sun Clan infiltrator, one that has caused the death of someone close to you, right under your nose." The light in Verz eyes hardened. "If I truly believed you capable of such a feat, You would be dead, however, I need answers and if you wish to live, you will give them to me." Mors shrugged, completely indifferent to the threat. "Depends on the question." "Careful demon, your life is in my hands," snarled Verz, her hand cracking menacingly as she clenched it. Mors''s blindfold crinkled as he genuinely smiled. "Your threats will not work on me... mortuus vivens. There are more things in heaven and earth than you can possibly fathom; my existence being one of them." In an instance Verz was in front of Mors, a knife held to his throat. "Ho, so you finally had the nerve to say it. I was starting to think you didn''t have the balls. I warned you what would happen." A thin trickle of blood fell from Mors'' neck as he pressed into the blade, his smile twisting into an insane grin as the air crackled and the black mist formed into small black bolts, seemingly tearing the air. "So we''re skipping the foreplay and going straight for the main course? Excellent, I was getting bored." Verz let out a deep breath as she stepped back and sheathed her dagger. "I hate dealing with demons. Your kind always manages to confuse death with pleasure when it suits them." Verz analysed the imp in front of her. She had not seen him since Ethemeusa''s funeral, and although she had read the reports of those tasked with monitoring him, she still could not believe what she was seeing. Mors tattered clothing did little to hide the majority of his skin, displaying many dark bruises and large, swollen cuts but this was not the most shocking thing. Four weeks ago, Mors had been a skinny, underweight child but now, although he still had the same height as a youngling, firm muscles tensed and rippled across his body as they consistently made minute changes to his stance in response to Verz own subconscious movements, their bodies subtly twitching in a silent standoff, each trying to get the advantage over the other. This sort of change should take months if not years of rigorous training and lots of combat experience yet, even that was paled by the the feeling she was getting from his concealed eyes. For the first time in her life, she instinctually felt threatened and it increased her curiosity to no end. It seems that he has been doing more than just mindlessly fighting trolls in a rage and sulking by a grave. When I get back, I am going to cripple them damn scouts. Clearing his throat, Mors scratched the pale scar on his face. "I do not have time for this, so I will summarise the facts." "You get info on a being that should not exist in this world, one that is not controlled by fate, making him the perfect weapon for your grudge war against the Sun Clan. You go to find him and when you do, the demon is weirdly clingy to you. A person which every living animal should naturally feel repulsed at and avoid." Verz subconsciously grimaced a bit. "The demon causes enough trouble and disturbances that following them would not be a hard for anyone with half a clue. Then during an ambush that should have been no threat to your team, he runs off into the woods and is followed by someone who, the demon recently learnt, could not leave a child in danger due to her own past traumas." "The weak demon runs into a trap, but manages to survive the initial skirmish yet, the lieutenant that followed him, only second in strength and power to the Captain herself regarding offensive power, is pretty much killed instantly. Nine out of ten times, the demon would have been dead the moment he entered the woods and his surviving up until this point could be considered a miracle but what happens next is beyond belief." "The self-proclaimed leader of the assassins, a foxkin from the notoriously merciless Sun Clan, instead of killing the demon the moment the opportunity arose like even a mediocre assassin would, decides to talk so loud anyone with sensory abilities in five hundred meters would here, declaring the demon to be their target and wasting enough time for someone to appear and, conveniently save the demon." "Then, even more bizarre, though it was already proven that he had the strength to incapacitate a powerful opponent with a single, instantaneous spell, instead of completely his mission, or even firing a single spell in the demon''s direction, he ordered a full retreat." "Conclusion. The demon had been planted to cause damage from the inside and lure one of the Huntsmen into an unfavourable position and it worked. They had managed to eliminate one of the cornerstones of the Huntsmen and, achieving what they needed to do, they half-heartedly tried to provide some cover for their infiltrator as it didn''t hurt to try." Verz eyes were locked on Mors. "Not exactly what I was thinking but pretty close. So why don''t yo-" Mors continued. "Now, let''s look at things from the demon''s point of view. His soul was torn from another world, intentional or not by the selfish whims of others and forced into a foreign, unnatural body forced to fight for his life upon his first breath. Barely managing to survive, aided by some foreign, one-time power, a group of five people conveniently appear when he is about to collapse and try to act friendly. Then he falls unconscious and has... visions, telling him to trust and follow these people." "Waking up, he tries to find more information as he has this unnerving feeling that what is happening can''t is real, only to be attacked on sight by the first people he sees. Convenient isn''t it? To be a creature that everyone is immediately hostile against so he can''t gain any information on his own and has to rely on his saviours." Mors tries to remain calm however it''s clear that he is slowly losing control as he becomes more emotional. "Anyway, once again, strange.... memories assault his senses, and he somehow survives. Once everything is over, guess who shows up again to ''save'' him. His previous saviours and it was at the most perfect moment when, once again, he can barely do anything but fall on the floor. Oh, I forgot that, one of them keeps saying they have the best senses in the natural world, so how did they not realise what was happening to him sooner? If they couldn''t then how could they turn up at the end? Well, it didn''t matter because before he could completely ponder this, he felt this weird connection, causing him to fall asleep, pushing the niggling questions to the back of his mind." Mors paused for a moment. "Then, he was taken to this ice fortress. There he is told that, if he doesn''t want to be used as some sort of sex slave, he would have to fight which only seemed to surprise him. Everyone else seemed to know. Yet, again the idiotic demon just goes with the flow and somehow manages to win before once again... collapsing. It seems these people that were concerned with his welfare, including their healer, failed to notice that he was cold blooded and happily watched as he nearly killed himself by using magic that sped up the process." Mors'' face was twisting in anger as he ground his teeth. "THEN, he has another fucking vision telling him to connect to people, make bridges... not to isolate himself. It seems every time he passes out and you guys rescue him, he has some sort of hallucination telling him how great and awesome you are, and that he needs you. Once again, really bloody convenient in a world full of magic, where causing illusions and affecting the mind doesn''t seem impossible, don''t you think?" Mors'' breathing was getting ragged as he let out everything he had been thinking over the last few weeks, completely switching to referring to himself in the first person. "Then we are ambushed by the very people that caused me so much pain. You, the so-called legendary Huntsmen, the Bloodhound, feared throughout the world for your battle prowess and intelligence... ambushed right next to your own bloody territory and while you conveniently disappear into the woods, guess who I should smell. That fucking bastard that escaped while laughing in the summoning pit." Mors stopped as he tried to compose himself, He could feel the anger building up and desperately tried to keep it under control. The desire to destroy everything, to burn the world to the ground around him swelled upwards while his heartbeat echoed in his ears.This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. Verz was watching Mors intently but did not speak, her previously hostile stance had somewhat weakened as her animalistic instincts. the ones that had saved her so many times, told her that everything Mors was saying was the truth. "So... the one who had looked after me. Who showed genuine concern even though initially she avoided me like the plague, without a moment''s hesitation chased me as I lost myself to my hatred and desire for revenge, sacrificed her life to save mine. Even as her soul left her body, she didn''t even have an ounce of hatred towards me." Verz had existed longer than most, and during that had felt fear and terror many times but as Mors spat the last words out in hate, it felt as if a mountain was bearing down on her and every nightmare she had ever had or experienced erupted forth, wanting to consumer everything that she was. As the aura disappeared, almost as soon as it appeared, Verz found herself shaking violently, struggling for breath. Not noticing Verz change in behaviour, blood streamed from Mors'' hand as he clenched them tightly, his nails easily cutting his flesh. "Even though my mind tells me that it could have been an actor some sadistic plot, I feel that Ethemeusa was only true to herself and her nature. That is the only reason I am still here and willing to talk to you. That and, as you have overheard, I have some... commitments." Mors sighed, his face returning to its emotionless state. "So, there are only four possibilities. One - this is all coincidence and bad luck. Two - I am a Sun Clan spy. Three - The huntsmen are manipulating me for their own agendas. Well, you are doing that anyway if anything I know is true. Four - The Sun Clan know that killing me is pointless and so, aims to make me mortal enemies with the Huntsmen. Not only robbing them of a useful tooland restricting my growth without losses but weakening you at the same time." "What do you mean, killing you is pointless? And what makes you think you could weaken us?" enquired Verz. She had thought about the first three options, but something had felt off and thus had made her keep her distance as she waited to see if Mors would reveal something. She did not actually intend to kill Mors here, thinking that if she was not satisfied with his answers, she could let him escape after a small fight and then have her scouts follow him. Mors shrugged. "Well, that is only a theory at the moment. I will need to get hold of a status stone to confirm it seeing as, at the moment, I do not trust a single thing, not even my own senses. This is the world with magic, and as such, anything could be possible." "Hold out your hand, palm towards the floor," ordered Verz after thinking for a few moments. Without the slightest hesitation, Mors held up his hand. Taking a small, metallic orb the size of a tennis ball from her pocket. Verz placed it on the top of Mors'' hand and said in a clear, authoritative voice. "Bind." Instantly, black and red mist rose from Mors'' skin, encircling the ball before starting to merge, small blue sparks flickering from the orb. After a few seconds, a small metal spike formed underneath the ball, piercing Mors'' skin before the entire ball turned to what appears to be liquid and was sucked in, creating a small, almost unnoticeable bulge just above Mors'' wrist. Mors flexed his hand in discomfort, the cold, stiff liquid moving about underneath his skin. "You know that because it''s you that has done this, I can''t trust a word it says right?" Verz laughed mirthlessly. "I am not doing this for you. You can''t falsify anything on a status plate, so this is pretty much the defining factor in your future. Now give me your card." Mors looks confused. "It''s under my skin. What do you want me to do, cut it out?" Verz sighed. "Say ''Status Reveal''." "Status Reveal," echoed Mors in irritation, and almost instantaneously, a black liquid, containing specs of red seeped from his skin before being pulling together and forming a solid, metal-like plate. Due to the blindfold, Mors could not see exactly what was going on or any of the blue words slowly forming. To his alternative vision, the status plate looked like a glowing, red square matching his own body temperature. To Verz, the plate appeared to be black with a few streaks of red running through it. Taking the plate before Mors could even flinch, she started reading the blue runes that had formed shortly after it solidified. Her eyes darted from side to side, then up and down a few times before sighing. "Well... even though I don''t quite believe what I am reading, It appears this time my curiosity might have saved me from an explosive arrow. What a terrifying concept, A wrath demon that retains its memories when it reincarnates."
Locked - The host is subconsciously restricting information on skills and abilities. Restricted - The Hosts deity has restricted information. All information excluding title and summary have been locked.
Name: Mors Letus Title: ????¡¯s Champion Race: Draconic Demon Type: Imp (1) Subtype: Wrath Terror Demon Available Evolution Options: (4)
Fame: Cursed Existence Job: None Class: Berserker, Assassin
Affinities: Darkness (92%) - Fire (88%)
Rank: Copper - Knight - 5 Star
Virtues: None Sins: Wrath, Pride
Status: Psychological Status: Physical Status: Spiritual
Emotions Repressed {Locked} Sleep deprived (82%) Recuses thought processes and motor skills. Unstable A combination of other status effects has made the host mentally unstable. Psychological defences greatly reduced. Unstable Heritage {Locked} Exhausted Host is exhausted, effectiveness of all abilities and skills reduced. Injured
  • Sprained Ankle (Left)
  • Fractured Ribs (3/12)
  • Fractured Arm (Right)
  • Concussion (Light)
  • Bleeding (Head/Torso/Right Leg)
  • Bite Wounds (Torso/Right Leg)
  • Shoulder (Left - Foreign body x2)
  • Horns (Removed x2)
  • Right wing (Broken Bone x3)
Foreign Objects
  • Status Stone
  • Poison Arrowhead x2 (Nullified)
Evolution Nearing The Host¡¯s has nearly met all requirements to evolve and so it¡¯s body has started preparing. Mana and nutrition requirements tripled. 		Ancient Soul (2/??????????) {Restricted} Immortal Soul (+) The host¡¯s soul has passed the point of ascension and has gained the ability to retain memories of previous lives, immediately re-entering the reincarnation pool. Previous memories are currently suppressed by hosts chosen deity. Fragmented Memories {Restricted} ????¡¯s Champion {Restricted} Undying (+) While ????¡¯s Champion, due to the deities power, the host cannot die unless critical organs are destroyed or incapacitated. Angelic Pact - Veronica Brightmoon (+) Host is lacking information to provide details. Information can be unlocked as the host¡¯s knowledge expands. Demonic Blood Pact - Daniel Rynheart. (+) Host is lacking information to provide details. Information can be unlocked as the host¡¯s knowledge expands. Demonic Soul Pact - Self {Locked/Restricted/Lacking Information}
Skills Abilities Racial Traits
Shadowstep {Locked} Dragon''s Breath {Locked} Dragon''s Gaze {Locked} Draconic Aura (Repressed) {Locked} Demonic Aura (Repressed) {Locked} Wrath¡¯s Domain {Locked} Soul Domain {Locked} Corrosive Blood {Locked} Draconic Transformation (Rank 1){Locked} The Last (+) {Forcefully unlocked by diety} Having existed countless millennia, you are destined to outlast time itself, and so are or will be the last of many things. Due to your unique soul, you are able to inherit skills and abilities, even those with restrictions, from those who are the last of their kind, ensuring their legacy is never extinguished. Immunity
  • Fire (88%)
  • Darkness (92%)
 Progenitor (+) The host is the first of their kind. Having the purest of blood, enhances physique, skills and abilities. Soul Split {Locked} Soul Destruction {Locked} Timeless Apex Predator (+) The host''s body is a living weapon and as the host gains experience, will mutate to become even more deadly. Mark of Wrath (Rank 1) (+) When the target had earned enough of the Hosts hatred, they will gain a mark which will inform the Host of their location. Higher ranks will provide more debuffs to the target and more benefits to the Host. Improved Regeneration (+) Having multiple bloodlines that specialise in their regenerative and healing abilities, the host can naturally heal from most injuries and regrow lost limbs.
Verz tried tapping the ''+'' but as expected, as it was locked, it did nothing. Taking a few minutes to absorb what she had learnt, she about to speak when she froze, and after a few seconds, Verz quickly looked at Mors'' racialabilities again. "The last... What in the seven hells and four heavens!" Q & A -Edited 4th Jan After another ''brutal''message about my terrible writing/story abilities since the death of Eth, I kind of lost the will to finish the next chapter and have been reviewing some of the earlier chapters. While doing, so I noticed that there are a lot of questions and thought I would start a Q&A ''page''. Please Comment/PM and questions you may have and I will answer them here :) ** Warning, there may be spoilers below! ** 4th Jan Questions Q: What does Mors currently look like, it has been very confusing, I may have missed something but can someone explain? A: This is a bit tricky as I was leaving this pretty vauge so people could create their ''Mors'' with some defining characteristics. Mors starts with the build of a skinny 6-year-old in terms of height and frame. Normally, Imps would grow from babies and get stuck at this stage until they evolve (Massive growth burst) however due to the summoning Mors skipped that part (His body is magically created). He has short, white hair, reptilian (snake-like) eyes with red Iris and relatively sharp features. These teeth are sharp and jagged with slightly larger canines. (They are small enough not to disfigure his features too much from a regular human). He also has semi-transparent runes engraved into his body that enables him to convert mana from the atmosphere at a much faster rate. When he is doing this, the lines will glow in that colour (Village/fire = red, Ice Fortress/Darkness = black). He has/had two small black horns, scale like patterens curving back on his head from the front top. One of Mors'' abilities (Dragonic Transformation) enables Mors to mutate his body to be more reptilian however as it is such a low level, so far his hands have darkened and small scale like skin has appeared. This ability will grow. As a side note, it has not been mentioned but Mors does have the ability to rapidly regrow teeth (He would be toothless by now otherwise). I remove the bit where I mentioned this in an edit >.<. Currently. Mors has infused his mana (darkness) into his hair turning it black. He has removed his horns and hidden his eyes. Now he looks almost completely human (as long as he doesn''t smile too much). Q: Who Controls the Sun Clan A: Their Patriarch, who we met briefly in the first chapter technically leads them but... does he really? Mhahahaha (Yes he does :P) Q: What happened to the Devils? A: This will be explained later in the story (Mors and Verz hunt) however hints have already been given. As an ultra simplistic overview. The Devil of Calamity gained her name, and the few surviving devils were not... welcome in the slightest. Q: Why are demons so stupid and self-destructive/how can they survive when they have no regard for their survivalEnsure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website. A: Well... it has been hinted that they are not surviving all that well and gradually becoming extinct due to this reason but it can be put down to location and screen time bias at the moment The main continent was a vastly different place in which they were able to thrive. Also, as shown by the Ice Demoness, they are more than willing (as long as they don''t have the sin of pride) to throw everything away to save their own skins. Some demons have become more ''civilised'' like the ice demons who use tradition and rules to curb their behaviour, (but they have also lost their true strength (and horns incase anyone missed that in the descriptions) Mors is a wrath/pride imp kid (with too much going on). Already hinted at being a ''stupid and dangerous'' existence that even his own kind purge. ========= Original Questions ======= Q: Will Mors grow his horns back, or will that only happen when he evolves A: Short answer, yes they will but not through evolution or time. I can''t reveal too much at the moment as it would be a spoiler but the removal of his horns meant more than what he thought it did. Q: Will Mors and verz ever be close again or is that bridge burnt and crumbled A: The next chapter will reveal more about their relationship at this ''rocky'' stage but like all relationships, especially ones that have had such a turbulentevent, only time will tell ;) Q: If it''s not too much of a spoiler, what does the action of a demon breaking it''s horns mean?? A: Ummm, toughy. In Lore terms, Demons with horns are seen as more powerful/closer to their devil ancestors (Notice anything about the behaviour of the Ice Demons compared to the lore given so far and their lack of certain... physical traits). Breaking off a demon''s horn is considered a deadly insult but when a demon removes their own horn, is seen as the ultimate vow. If one say, had immense natural magic and was making some sort of promise at that time... ;) Q: What is a pact? A: A magical contract which has various effects if it is broken. The two main branches are Demonic and Angelic, which then split down into spoken, blood, soul. Q: Why are there so many types of pacts? A: Will be answered in the Matn Arc (A fair bit in the future when Mors meets his first ''real'' angels. Basically, has to do with Devil/Angel origins and their ties with certain gods. Other species picked up on it pretty quick as, with magic, it would be foolish not to take advantage of it. Q: Who is Daniel Rynheart A: Daniel Rynheart is the black knight, General Rynheart. Q: Who is Adam? A: Going to keep this one ''mysterious'' as I want to slowly reveal it naturally but, he did mention a few hints about his origins and that his descendants warped it later with religious connotations. Q: Is Mors going to evolve into a Demon Lord? A: As Grim already told him he would be (!!Wait how can he know if Mors'' can''t be seen by fate ;) *hint*) (plus the previous book & other comments confirm it) I see no harm in spoiling this one, yes he will BUT he has to meet certain requirements first. Q: Will Mors Angelic blood have a big impact? A: Yes. It has already had a big impact or his behaviour AND how Mors travels the world. (The Inn before the Ice Demon Fortress should be a good indicator). Q: Does Verz have some kind of disease or weakness? Does it have anything to do with the scar on her chest? A: YAY! Someone finally noticed something and I can''t say yet ;) Though it should be clear/apparent soon. But all the hints are there. I think the next released chapter will be the last ''hint'' until it naturally comes up during the ''training''. Q: You mentioned that you plan for the book to span 4000 years. Does this mean the last book will be futuristic? A: Yes, althoughnot as much as one might think in terms of progression (compared to our world) due to events and the ''over'' reliance on mana/magic. I actually am thinking about doing a mini ''series'' of short extracts/reports/Acorian'' stories to show the passage of time as well as some of these events (The end of book three is set 500ish years after the start of book 1 so that leaves 3500-time gap). Q: In your last book, you mentioned about having a spin-off, set after the last book is that still going ahead? A: Yes and no. Maybe :D I am setting the foundations in book 3 for it but I will have to see how I go. I have a few other ideas I might want to work on instead. BOM:Summoned - Out of the ashes - 15.3 Verz''s hands were visibly shaking as she clutched Mors'' status plate, her eyes slightly out of focus. "How is this possible? This ability, it''s..." Sighing loudly, Mors looked up at the night sky before shrugging his shoulders. "I know what you''re thinking, and I know how much it means to you but, no. You have burnt that bridge." Mors'' icy tone woke Verz from her stupor. "You talk of burnt bridges, but you are still here... hiding in my shadow. Do not ma-" "Enough of your feeble threats," hissed Mors, extremely irritated that he forgot about Grim''s gift, and even worse, had let Verz see it. If the memories he had obtained from Grim were even half right, now she knew, she would hound him to the end of the earth. He now needed to think of a way to reduce the damage. "If there is nothing else, I''m leaving." As Mors turned and was about to walk away, Verz grasped his shoulder in a vice-like grip, her hand vibrating with the intensity of the deep growl she was releasing. "You have always alluded to knowing more than you should. I don''t even want to think how you got that knowledge but answer me this, do you think I will let you walk away?" Verz''s bestial growl was met with Mors own as he slowly turned around, glowing red orbs emanating through his blindfold. "I know that you are not stupid enough to think that you can force this matter or is it that you can''t see the restrictions on the skill?" Mors lips curled as Verz blinked, realising that an ability that powerful would definitely have some drawbacks, however, what Mors said next seemed almost too good to be true for the wolfkin. "The skills can only be obtained if both parties are willing and, unluckily for you, I am all out of goodwill and pleasantries." Still shaking, Verz took a deep breath as she removed her hand from Mors'' shoulder. Even though she was wearing a mask, it was evident she was frowning in concentration. "What are your conditions?" Mors glared silently. He had not even considered this possibility, mainly due to forgetting about the ability, and although there were many things he needed, he couldn''t bring himself to ask for them. The scorn and humiliation the huntsmen had shown him had left its mark. Even if his pride demanded vengeance, he knew he couldn''t make an enemy of the whole world. He would be content with using them if possible, temporarily ignoring their exitance until he was stronger if not. Seeing varying emotions crossing the demon''s eyes, none of them good, Verz decided to lead the negotiations. "I will teach you how to make a blood pact, including all of the ways to cheat them and then, when you are happy, make one with you." Her sudden suggestion brought Mors out of his musings. Having read the reports, seen his drastic change in both personality and physical appearance, and most importantly, could sense the rage boiling inside, simmering below the surface, with Verz''s past, she had a good idea in what would convince him. If it failed, she might have a backup plan if she could confirm some of the details of his earlier behaviour, but Verz would only use it as a last resort as if she was wrong, it could backfire horribly. "I will make you into an unstoppable killing machine. With your potential, you will be so powerful that you will crush all who oppose you and protect those that you find worthy." "I will also provide you with the best training, equipment and resources on the continent while keeping you, and the two you are bound too, safe until you are strong enough to force the world to its knees." Silence had fallen upon the cemetery, Verz''s words tantalising the young demon, offering what he wanted but had no idea how to acquire by himself. Verz continued. "In two months time, when I have sorted everything out here, I am going to hunt the group that killed Ethemeusa, and if you are willing, I will bring you with me. When we find the foxkin, you can kill him as slow as you like." And now for the icing on the cake. Verz was throwing everything into her offer. She had played on Mors'' sins, and now, she was going to target his insecurities. "The training will be brutal. There will be times you beg for the mercy of death, but I will not grant it. The weak, pathetic you will perish, and from its ashes, a true dragon shall be born." Verz had underestimated how much Mors had matured and was trying too hard, eliciting a snarl from the Demon. "Ho, so you are just going to give me everything so that I inherit your families curse? Even for you, that deal is too generous and, stop with the sweet talk. It is making me sick." "There are conditions," Verz smiled under her mask. "You will compete in the adept''s initiation in three days. Not only compete, but you will beat every opponent into the ground, leaving their broken bodies in your wake. The only rules are they do not die, and, from me, they do not get the chance to surrender."If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. Mors couldn''t help but smile at Verz words. The organisation Verz had created was loosely based on a wolf pack and just like a pack, the dominance other others had to be established early on, not that this mattered to Mors in the slightest. It also would give Mors a chance to legitimately stomp the potential pupils that had been brought in by the huntsmen that had wronged him. As her body gradually stopped shaking from the excitement, the silver gleam in Verz eyes intensified, sending a small chill down Mors back as for the first time, he felt oppressed. "Don''t mistake me Mors. I do not need a man nor a demon to win. I need a terrifying monster that would cause the Gods to tremble in fear." Regaining her composure somewhat, Verz breathed deeply. "After that, I will give you the position of Pathfinder and make you my personal adept. Pathfinders are feared existences, even to their fellow huntsmen. They are named so because they are willing to destroy everything that stands in their way, friend of foe, in order to achieve their goals. As such, you will be excused from regular training or team orientated drills, which I know you will hate. It will also give you full access to everything available to a lieutenant or below. Books, potions, elixirs, scrolls, everything you could ever want to gain strength rapidly." "That is still what you will do for me, not what you want in return?" hissed Mors, getting impatient. He was sick of hearing the sales pitch. "Get to the point." "The destruction of the Sun Clan and the revival of the Moon Clan," said Verz effortlessly, as if she had asked for something as simple as a glass of water. "Ignoring something that is already guaranteed, you want me to fuck a wolfkin so that your clan''s heritage can pe passed on?" Mors felt himself surge with anger. "You''re no better than those damn demons." Verz glared at Mors. "Moron! You''re basically an immortal soul. As long as you exist, the curse will not activate, and my ancestor''s spirits can rest in peace. All you need to do, when you have crushed those damn foxes into the dirt, is announce that you are of the Moon Clan to the world." Mors studied the woman in front of him, looking for any hint of deceit. Verz smiled wickedly behind her mask, deciding to use her last card. "Also, in two years time. The two you are bound with will face the final trial. Over 70% of adepts never return. A Pathfinder must still take the trial and so requires a team. Wouldn''t you feel better knowing you were there, next to your... masters instead of on the other side of the continent." Mors'' brain Jared. "What? Masters?" Verz couldn''t help but laugh at his reaction. "As I thought, you didn''t even know you were carrying out a rather crude soul ritual when you removed your horns. Do you know how many demon summoners have died to try to do what you just did to yourself? You even made a vow at the same time... That is almost as insane as your existence." "FOR THE LOVE OF GOD!" roared Mors in anger, finally realising what the weird feeling, deep in his chest, was. "Why the hell does everything have to have some sort of hidden meaning in this bloody world. I am surprised I am not bound to the fucking floor I piss on." Although Mors did not want to believe Verz, the moment he removed his horns, he felt two, small tugging sensations towards the other side of the fortress and somehow, knew that the two Lamia''s were sleeping somewhat peacefully. Although, at the time, he immediately pushed it to the back of his mind. After letting him calm down somewhat, Verz continued. "By your reaction, I guess you already instinctively know it''s real. If you go against that vow and directly harm them, your mana will combust inside you, obliterating your body. If you had made a simple blood pact, then only your organs would be destroyed, or you could have found a loop-hole, but alas, it''s still good to know your an idiot." Still chuckling, Verz sighed in relief. She wasn''t sure Mors was telling the truth about his ability, seeing as he didn''t see his status card, but at least with the twins, she had him cornered. "You can sense them, Claire and Alice, Ethemeusa''s adopted children, can''t you?" "How, absolutely, bloody convenient," spat Mors, fuming at his own stupidity. "Why did I do that? How did I even rationalised that impulse? I could have just used that charm that hides horns instead of ripping them off. I HATE THIS WORLD." Verz let out a genuine laugh, now completely confident after confirming Mors'' reaction. "Can you imagine if they found out? You would be at their mercy. You wouldn''t even be able to run away as they could summon you back, naked of course as only your flesh and soul can be teleported, and then you would have to follow every order or experience crippling pain. I''m surprised. Demons typically die before submitting to another. Then again, as you already have enslaved that Ice Demon, I guess this is just life paying you back." Mors couldn''t hear Verz''s words, his mind scrambling for any chance, no matter how small, that she was wrong. However, deep down, he knew she was telling the truth. After lifting her mask slightly to wipe away a tear, Verz turned to look at the demon, who looked like he was about to explode on the spot. "Now, now. Don''t be like that. It''s not like I am going to tell them. I will ask Kelora and see if she knows anything about how to remove it. I can''t have an inheritor of the Moon Clan enslaved, can I? Or is that what you''re into?" Mors stared at the ground for a long time before finally releasing his breath, his voice crackling with mana as he restrained his rage. "I will be back for the initiation. Afterwards, I will give you my answer." Without waiting for a response, Mors'' figure flickered, and a shadow blurred out of the cemetery towards the outer gate and an incredible speed, occasionally swerving to smash anything that looked fragile, including two benches and one of the street lamps. "Impressive, I was certain he would have gone on a rampage and need a time out." Verz stood watching until the shadow had scaled the wall and disappeared before tucking Mors'' status card into her pocket and picking up the two discarded horns. "It''s About time that bastard, Death threw me a bone." Turning and slowly walking back to the fortress Verz couldn''t help but sigh. "The angelic pact takes all the fun out of teasing the little demon. Still, I guess I can be thankful it stopped me from killing him in that clearing. As soon as the heritage secure... I can finally start to let loose." Two of the guards closest to the cemetery shuddered as their captain''s terrifying laugh resonated on the wind, and they quickly retreated into the shadows. BOM:Summoned - Out of the ashes - 16.1 High above the ground, lazily wedged in the fork of an enormous tree that towered above the canopy of its counterparts, Mors casually flicked his tail side to side as he bathed in the warm, golden sunlight. It had been two days since he had met Verz at the Huntsmen''s graveyard and although their encounter still annoyed him, he had calmed down significantly after returning to the forest and resuming his personal training. Revealing his sharp, curved teeth, Mors released a growl at the memory. It was not aimed at the woman herself, but at how stupid he had been, somehow managing to perform yet another subconscious magic ritual that had seemingly bound him to the lamia twins. If Verz was to be believed, and with her mocking tone and how she phrased her sentences he wasn''t sure, they now had the power to command and summon him at their will if they ever found out about the pact. If they knew, they would probably have attempted to kill me by now. That or Verz was lying. After releasing a deep breath, Mors''s face returned to its lazy expression. Although it initially seemed like fate had once again screwed him over, there was an unexpected positive. Mors was now able to tell the location and state of mind of the twins and thus, had made his vow to the late Ethemeusa much easier. "A debt that goes beyond blood must always be repaid but, to be bound in servitude while caught in the moment... pathetic." As Mors recalled his conversation with Verz, he suddenly frowned, vaguely remembering her saying that it was only fair as he had enslaved someone else. Concentrating on the two bonds, weird, warm feelings that seemed to emanate from the centre of his chest, Mors started looking for something and it wasn''t long before he discovered a much weaker, almost invisible link. However, he could not get an exact location or emotion from it like the other two. All that he knew was that whatever it was, it tugged at him in the direction of the Huntsmen''s fortress. Puzzled, Mors closed his eyes and started focusing on the feeling, trying to work out what it could be but, whenever he felt close to grasping whatever it was; he would feel a sense of fear before it slipped out of his grasp, like water flowing from cupped hands. I can''t take too much for granted. Maybe this feeling is some sort of tracking spell, and Verz only told me that I had another ''bond'' so I would not look for a way to break it if I noticed.Sighing Mors resolved himself to finding the answer when he completed the initiation. Urg, I am going to get myself killed not knowing this world''s natural laws and that is only made worse with the presence of magic.Until I know the limits, anything is possible. I am nothing but an ignorant fool, in a world of magic and beasts. A bird, about to land on the same branch as Mors, spotted him at the last moment and let out a panicked cry before fleeing. It was surprising it took the bird that long to notice him as, even though the dirty remains of his tattered clothes broke up his outline, his white skin, littered with small injuries and bruises, stood out against the tree''s dark bark making it almost impossible for him to hide. Not that he was worried about being spotted from the dense vegetation of the forest floor below. Eventually, the sun peaked in the sky, and Mors stifled a yawn as his head lolled to the side, watching small plumes of smoke rising in the distance; his makeshift blindfold from two nights ago nowhere to be seen. "What a waste of good meat. Seeing as they are almost done cleaning up, I guess it''s time to get a move on." Mors'' hand slowly rose in the air as he focused on the small green ball it held, no bigger than an egg with tiny brown lines that littered the rough surface, giving the orb a marbled appearance, causing him to make a disgusted face. "Great, Nature and Earth." Momentarily hesitating, Mors grimaced as he dropped the ball into his mouth and started chewing. The birds roosting nearby startled and fled at the loud, chilling crunches and the massive burst of residue mana that rippled outwards with each bite.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. Making a pained expression as he swallowed, small beads of sweat formed on Mors'' brow as the small cuts on his body started knitting together, healing at an astonishing rate and the bruises all but disappeared. Mors lay motionless for a few moments before rapidly rolling over and retching, sending a bright green and brown liquid, the colours refusing to mix, tumbling to the ground. Leaning back into the fork of the tree, Mors wiped his mouth as he panted for breath. "I know what I am doing is breaking this world''s common sense but, why does the reaction have to be so... painful? And on that note, why can''t more people have fire or darkness affinities? Bloody naturists." After resting for a couple of minutes, muttering under his breath to take his mind away from the excruciating pain coursing through his veins, Mors pried himself from the fork, his tail wrapping around the branch, and sat up before scanning the canopy as he rubbed the bags under his eyes. "Time waits for no ma.. demon. It has been a good training field, but I have already outgrown this place." A wicked, merciless smile grew on Mors'' face. "I guess it is time to end this game of cat and mouse. Letting them hunt me to improve my skills was fun, but they have learnt too much and with their strength, they should provide the perfect graduation ceremony. The only question is, what cheese should I use?" With a nostalgic, almost regretful sigh, Mors stood up and without a moment''s hesitation, stepped off the tree, plummeting down over two hundred feet as his thin legs glowed with red runes. Twenty meters from the floor, two huge, black wings erupted from his back and beat downward and, despite the membrane being badly torn and full of holes, making them unusable for flight, substantially reduced his velocity as he crashed through the ferns and landed in the soft mulch with a loud thud. The ferns surrounding him shaking from his decent, Mors remained in his crouched position, slowly retracing his wings back before closing his eyes. Taking a deep breath, he wiggled his toes and fingers in the damp soil and flicked his tongue out as he strained his senses. Suddenly, Mors'' head snapped to the left, his reptilian eyes opening and locking onto something far in the distance even, though it should be impossible for him to see more than a couple of meters through the endless sea of greenery. With every hint of laziness gone, replaced with the aura of apredator on the prowl, his body shivered with excitement. "I spy with my little eye, something beginning with T." Mors had spent the last four weeks getting used to, and training, his body and mind, fighting the forests beasts, monsters and resident sentient species mercilessly. Apart from finally having a better understanding of himself, Mors had received an unexpected benefit; he had remembered most of his previous life''s memories, and with that, his mood lightened significantly, even if he had become prone to spouting seemingly nonsensical sayings. During those four weeks, he would hunt, and sometimes toy with, every creature that could be a challenge, pushing his body, skills and abilities to their limits. Initially, he only stopped at night to recover and reflect what he had learnt that day at Ethemeusa''s grave, but since Verz''s rather tempting, if infuriating, proposal, he had been in overdrive, only pausing to raise his body temperature to offset the coldness created by using his dark affinity skills. This would not have been possible if not for his accidental discovery upon leaving the fortress. After a death match with an ogre, Mors had discovered he could ingest mana cores, or at least some parts of them, enabling him to heal his body and replenish his stamina, turning him into quite the literal, killing machine. He was still mentally exhausted as the core did not seem to be equal to a good nights sleep, but he reassured himself that he could rest after releasing his pent up anger at the huntsmen initiation the next day. Resisting the instinctual urge to let out a roar, letting his prey know that their death approached and giving them at least a chance to entertain him, Mors used the shadows from the foliage and activated his ability causing his body to turn into a black blur and quickly disappeared, barely disturbing the fauna as he passed. However, as Mors no longer could not be bothered to hide his aura, his training over, the local wildlife, their instincts heightened over millennia of evolution and adaptation to mana, fled in every direction as if fleeing a raging inferno. It wasn''t long before guttural, bone-chilling screams, filled with terror, echoed through the ancient forest accompanied by the stench of death as it drifted on the gentle, uncaring breeze. BOM:Summoned - Out of the ashes - 16.2 As the last rays of golden sunlight fell upon the thick forest canopy in southern Flatner, hundreds of feet below, small, sporadic fires raged unchecked as the occasional guttural, pain filled scream filled the air. Although large-scale violence was not uncommon in the Huntsmen''s territory, especially within the many diverse sentient species that called the ancient forest home, the past two days had turned this patch of the ancient woods into something akin to a war zone. It was well known that the Huntsmen used these species as a buffer and early warning system so, due to the fact that not a single Huntsmen could be found in a twenty-mile radius, despite the devastation, many of the species evacuated the area believing it to be a culling for some offence. This theory went almost unquestioned because the area unofficially belonged to the trolls and they commonly challenged the rule of the Huntsmen, earning them similar punishments in the past. The southern Flatner forest, due to its warmer climate and the runoff from the nearby mountains, was home to various tribes of trolls. Even though they mostly put up with being ruled over, every now and again, when their numbers were large enough, they would rebel. The only reason they had not been wiped out was that of how great a deterrent they were and the rebellions provided excellent experience for the Huntsmen''s troops. Even though they were heavy handed when they acted, it was not like the Huntsman policed their domination over the region of Flatner. They, or their leader, Verz, actually had no interest in ruling and thus allowed the natives to live in autonomy as long as they adhered to three rules. The first was that any suspicious foreign intruder who approached the Huntsmen Fortress, commonly known as the Wolfs Den, excluding adventurers, nobles and merchants using the roads, were to be eliminated on sight. The second was not to harm or interfere with any huntsmen, no matter what they were doing. This rule was commonly infringed upon, but after decades of oppression and vicious retaliation, the majority of sentient species had got the message. The third was the easiest to follow for most species, and that was to keep the local monster population under control, reporting any variants or strong individuals to a huntsmen outpost if they could not dispose of them. There was also an unofficial rule, one that stated that, for every foxkin killed and brought before the Huntsmen captain, the Bloodhound, they would receive their victim''s weight in gold and immunity for one member of their tribe, as long as they did not break the aforementioned rules. It was less than thirty minutes before darkness finally descended upon the forest, allowing the flames to fully illuminate their surroundings, casting grim shadows upon the devastated landscape, the surrounding foliage smashed and torn apart while horrifying; unnatural scars littered the massive tree trunks, a testament to the fierce battles that had taken place. The eerie silence, one that was common when a predator was in the area, was shattered as sharp whistles and clicks resonated through the trees before another, guttural cry caused them to immediately silence. Typically the strange noises would cause the surrounding wildlife to run in fear or hide, announcing the arrival of a troll hunting party, but recently, they had a new purpose. The noises were used by a troll to alert its comrades that the monster was closing in on it, giving them a chance to escape. The barrage of whistles that erupted afterwards was the nearby trolls relaying their position and direction. A lone troll was formidable, but a hunting party would cause even seasoned adventurers to quake in their boots, their communication, camouflage and tactics in this type of terrain almost unmatched. Only the pack animals like wolf''s and dogs had an advantage due to their extraordinary senses. Well, that was until recently. Trolls were natural predators, having evolved over thousands of years to be perfectly at home in the dense, mana enriched forests that once covered accoria, however, in the last four weeks, the apex predators had fallen and became nothing more than prey to some unknown monster. Not even half a second after the scream ended, several figures crashed through the dense undergrowth, not caring about the noise they made, as they avoided the areas illuminated by the crackling fires, and splintered tree trunks. Little did the group know, that high above them, a single blood red, reptilian eye watched the group pass by with interest, instinctively analysing the groups for threats and weaknesses. Green, slimy blood dripped from its mouth and black, lizard-like claws, embedded into the tree, as a frown creased its brow. As Mors watched the group crash into the distance, he jumped between the trees silently, his sharp claws and tail effortlessly embedding into the thick bark as he easily kept pace. His speed, unhindered by the undergrowth and enhanced by the darkness around him was such that he soon passed the group and chuckled as he closed his open eye. If only the vision was limited to heat, it would be just like the film in my old world.... well apart from naked trolls running about with swords. Resisting an urge to shout the famous quote in an Austrian accent, Mors could only shake his head in amusement as he watched the group run. Thank god for these memories, I probably would of gone insane otherwise. Well, not that I was a bundle of mental health, even in my own world but it definitely helps.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road. More whistles later, the group slid to a halt in a small, dark clearing and crouched down, using their almost naked bodies to camouflage themselves against their surroundings. Making them almost invisible as the gentle light of the moon, cast shadows through the gap above. Only a single figure remained standing in the clearing, leaning on a wooden staff and due to the moonlight, his figure could be clearly seen. Generally, trolls were extremely gaunt, 5,10 to 6 foot heigh, dark green creatures with a darker, leaf pattern crisscrossing their bodies, breaking up their silhouette and large, amber eyes with tiny, protruding bones and hardened skin. Due to their skin being better than standard adventure camouflage, most trolls ignored clothing completely although the females wore a dark green sash around their chests to reduce the discomfort from the rapid movements a hunt required. "Why is it still hunting? The light has fallen." whispered one of the trolls in their guttural language, letting out a faint whistle from the small hole at the top of his nose, accenting the words. A female troll, carrying a much younger troll on her back crawled towards a tree, putting her body at odd angles breaking up her outline, almost perfectly hiding her against its bark. "It has to be enraged by the hunting party that stumbled upon it. I heard reports that they nearly cornered it in a cave a few nights back and it has been overly aggressive ever since." "Shut it! You put the little chief at risk by bringing her here," spat another female troll, her bow string taut as she continued to survey the surroundings. "Anyway, that hunting party was destroyed days ago. The Alpha''s group only caught up to it today." A quiet clicking noise resonated from the little troll on her back. "If you value your life, you will not speak to Mayka like that. Without father and mother here, I am in charge." The archer did not even flinch at the threat. "We will not survive this dark so what makes you think I care? We are being played with... little chief." A larger troll, large scars littering his body nodded as he played with the sword on his lap. "The monster wiped out the Alpha''s hunting party in minutes, yet it has been forcing us in this direction, picking off any who move away. I wonder if it has young and want''s to use us as their first hunt?" "Ha, it''s nothing so noble." The old troll that was leaning on his staff in the middle of the clearing finally spoke, not bothering to conceal his location. "We merely have piped its interest. We are the honour guard for our little chief. We cannot engage in the hunt and have to protect her at all costs, entirely different from our brethren. Any troll that succumbed to his desire to fight or flee has been killed. This is like no monster we have ever faced. No wonder those white masks are keeping their distance." "What''s the difference between a monster and a beast? At the start, father called it a beast but now everyone keeps saying monster?" The small girl wriggled from her protector''s back and stretched her legs, seemingly ignorant of the danger that she was in, but for a troll, especially one as gifted as her, every day was a struggle for survival and so the meaning of impending death had greatly diminished. The old man sighed. "It seem''s we are being allowed a brief rest so might as well talk, it will help keep our minds out of darkness." "A monster is a being that has a mana core and can use mana internally, externally, and at a distance or a mixture of the three. A beast is a monster that absorbs mana directly into its body, it is incredibly strong, but that is its limit, it can''t commune with the spirits and borrow their strength." The old troll cleared his throat. "When the attacks started, they were purely physical however over time, these changed showing the monster is capable of manipulating fire spirits. Some of the sightings even hint at darkness. However, that is unlikely, seeing as it was avoiding hunting in the dark." "So that is why we avoided the flames earlier? Because if it can use fire, it would be a trap or put at as a disadvantage?" responded the girl. "Not really, we didn''t want to hinder our night vision," chuckled the old man. "The way-" "What do you mean we are being allowed to rest?" Mayka, the young troll''s protector interrupted, moving closer to the child as soon as she had regained her breath and comprehended the meaning behind his words. "Did we not stop because we are safe?" The old man looked at the larger troll and let out a faint clicking noise from his throat. "The scouts in front and our vanguard are dead. It seem''s it is tired of chasing us or we have reached our destination. The fact that it did not immediately attack means something. What, though, I do not know." Only Mayka and the child seemed shocked by this, the others too busy trying to recover as much as possible, unwilling to die without a fight. They had sensed the deaths of their comrades, and after everything they witnessed, especially the complete annihilation of their most powerful hunting party, they knew they would not be able to escape. They were, after all, glorified babysitters, too weak to hinder the little chiefs growth but strong enough to provide reasonable protection. Mayka picked up the child, wrapping her arms protectively around it. "We have to protect Kia, she is the next chief. We have to get away or kill it." The bushes rustled behind them causing them to jump and turn around, only to see a large pool of green blood and a troll''s foot disappear into the undergrowth. Seeing this, the trolls that had been resting wearily got up and prepped their swords and long spears. They had been running for hours and even though they had more stamina than other species, they were at their limit. Surrounding the two archers, Mayka and Kia, the group got ready for battle, letting out small whistles, communicating that it had been a pleasure hunting with the rest of the group and of the honour of dying in the hunt. The old man only sighed. "Looks like it''s time. Kia, whatever you do, do not us-" "I see, so you are protecting the child." A cheerful, human voice resonated around them. "Hmm, well that''s kind of boring. It was so obvious I was sure it was a bluff to hide something else. Even though I managed to try out some new tactics, I am regretting wasting so much time." Even though they could not understand the language, the trolls unconsciously shuddered, knowing that the game was over and whatever it was in the darkness was coming. "COWARD! IF YOU CAN TALK, YOU CAN FIGHT LIKE A SENTIENT BEING, NOT SOME COMMON BEAST." screamed Kia, turning around in Mayka''s arms as she opened her arms wide, thinking that they might have achance if she taunted him into the open. The victor consumes the fallen. There is no such thing as a fair fight when it comes to survival What started off as a small flaming circle, surrounded the group, exploded outwards scorching everything withing a hundred meters and clearing the area around them. A sinister laugh echoed above the crackling fire as the old man stepped in front of the young troll, dropping his staff as two fiery orbs appeared in his hands. "It''s sentient... this is worse than I ever imagined. Protect the little chief... this monster enjoys hunting spirit walkers and taking their cores." NAC - Mors Artwork. Hey, A few people were asking what Mors looked like so I ended up getting someone to do some artwork. It''s not perfect (there are a few inconsistencies) but overall matches the vibe that is in my head (wings/tail need to be a 100x more intimidating/dangerous).If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Verz will be coming soon :) Are there any other characters you guys would like to see? This is based off Mors second evolution (Yet to happen) IFhe did not remove his horns (or if he gets them back (who knows ;) ) Draconic Demon (Imp) -> Draconic Demon (Demon) BOM:Summoned - Out of the ashes - 16.3 Mors could not help but laugh at the little trolls attempt at provoking him. Not only did he not understand the language, but it was also almost idiotic how obvious her plan was. However, it wasn''t long before his laugh turned into a sigh and he shook his head feeling that the troll was too similar to how he was not long ago. Jumping to a nearby tree, Mors peered down as he started forming a plan. If I am going to make it back to the huntsmen fortress with enough time to pick up some clothes, I don''t have a lot of time to waste. Better wrap this up quickly. Initially, he had been hunting the local wildlife in an attempt to get used to his body and gain strength as well as an outlet for his frustration, when he stumbled across green skinned, humanoid creatures attacking a group of travelling, rabbit-eared beastkin. Luckily, unlike the creatures, it seemed the beastkin spoke the common tongue, or whatever language Mors was currently speaking, and as the beastkin defended themselves, Mors had heard one of them, a young woman, call them trolls just before she was ripped in half. The trolls were impressive, using their superior physical strength and combat prowess to easily overwhelm the defenders, quickly butchering them and packaging their meat for transportation. Soon another group of trolls appeared to transport the meat and the main group continued their hunt, disappearing into the forest like ghosts. By utilising his keen senses, and his unique vision, Mors was able to stalk them through the forest and soon came across similar hunting parties, realising they were the dominant species of the area and top of the food chain, a terrifying plan started to develop. Using the brutal attack and butchering of the beastkin, including their young, as an excuse to his lingering feelings of humanity, even though in all honesty, he did not care about their fate, Mors decided that the trolls were the perfect candidates for a brutal training regime. One that he would gain a lot of strength quickly, or die trying. At the start, he could barely fight against one, needing to use traps and ambushes to have any chance of winning but, as the days passed and his discovery of the benefits from devouring mana cores, he rapidly grew and honed his abilities. This resulted in entire hunting parties of experienced trolls being wiped out in a matter of minutes and even the complete extermination of some of their less fortified outposts. After three weeks he finally managed to combine the subconscious muscle memories, which seemed to be linked to his locked memories, his savage instincts and skills into a vicious combat style in which every part of his body was a lethal weapon. He had used the two days after meeting Verz to test his current limits and now felt that he could probably take on an army of trolls if it were in the confines of the dense forest. It may be their natural habitat, but it was one where numbers above a certain size would count for nothing, giving him the edge. The fight would not be honourable, he could never hope to win if it was, but to Mors, honour meant nothing. It was survival of the fittest where the victor took everything. Letting out another sigh, Mors was slightly dejected. Giving himself over to his instincts and primal urge to hunt and kill, focusing on nothing but getting stronger had pushed his troubling thoughts to the back of his mind. Life was simple. Kill, eat, find water and sleep. There was no world-shaking organisation that he had a blood feud with, no people trying to use him for their own benefits, no people to irritate him. Ahhh, if only I could have been born as a mindless monster without this stupid, overwhelming desire to get revenge and repay any slight with blood. Life would be so easy. As Mors thought this, a warm tingling sensation passed over his body and quickly faded. He was only mildly shocked as it generally happened in combat. Little did he know this was his linked status stone, that had merged with his body, updating. The old troll who was holding the two fiery orbs spoke, snapping Mors from his thoughts. "The monster relies on stealth and speed. Now little chief has cleared the area, it will be forced to engage us directly. Fight as one and remember, the weak are food for the strong."The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. "The weak are food for the strong." All but one of the trolls repeated in a chant. All but one of the trolls repeated the old trolls saying. "It did not seem to work for those who tried before us," spat a spear wielding troll, remembering the fires and destroyed surroundings they passed as he released a whistle of annoyance. "No... but running isn''t working either," retorted the old troll, enraged that he had been spoken to in that manner. "If you want to run, then run. See how far you get. I am sure not only our ancestorsbut the spirits will laugh at you for your stupidi-." "Finished?" interrupted Mors, finally deciding on a plan of attack and dropping down from the tree, landing with a dull thud and silencing the trolls. As he slowly stood up, the trolls watched with stupefied expressions, their brains struggling to comprehend that the monster that had killed so many of them was only a humanoid youngling. The large troll was the first to recover and started glowing red as he let out a guttural growl, pointing his sword at Mors. "A reptile, a mere reptile youngling has caused us so much shame? If I do not feast on its flesh tonight, I will never be able to face my ancestors." Mors chuckled at the expected reaction and unknown, clearly vexed words. For some reason, the troll''s were not affected by his aura or appearance in the same way as other species. Instead of fear, they seemed to become enraged as if his existence was the gravest insult. This was the last reason why Mors continued to hunt the trolls. Other creatures in the area had been hunted to a low level, and thus, they would not fight him if he released any of his aura. This in itself resulted in an unexpected gain as he learnt to suppress his aura to a certain extent but even then, they were not much of a challenge as they were so weak. Surprisingly to Mors, by thinking happy, none bloodthirsty thoughts, which was kind of hard when the joy of bloodshed was probably the happiest thought he had, Mors could completely suppress his ability, however, maybe due to his race or personality, this was an almost impossible task, especially in combat. Without waiting for Mors to make the first move, the old troll fired his two fire spells only for his eyes to go wide in shock as they were exploded harmlessly on Mors'' body, causing the demon to release a bright smile as he continued to train his aura suppression. "This group has two, that''s two fire cores, ah ah ah." The red glow surrounding the large troll intensified revealing he was using his species innate ability, commonly referred to as berserker bloodlust. Once triggered, it would empower their muscles, override their brains limiters and release copious amounts of hormones into the bloodstream turning the troll into an incredibly deadly foe. Frowning, Mors'' body slightly tensed. Due to the extreme backlash of using the ability, Mors found they only used it as a last resort, as even their comrades would take the opportunity to kill them in their weakened state, but it also meant that temporarily, they were vastly stronger than him. Mors also believed that the activation of the ability seemed to be contagious, with nearby trolls following suit and was not shocked by the others quickly gaining the red mist. However, as the dim red light started to engulf Mayka, an old, wrinkled hand landed on her shoulder, instantly locking away her and Kia''s ability. "It won''t make a difference child. Save your strength. Not all battles are down to brute force and it''s clear that this one is not as mindless as we first thought." Removing his hand, he sighed, his golden eyes looking at the young boy in front of them without any emotion "No matter what I think of, if we fight him head on, we die. It''s clear by his movements and attention that he has vast experience in fighting trolls and complete confidence in his victory. Even though he looks to be a lizard youngling, he is more monster than sentient race but that does not make him any less intelligent." The old troll frowned before his eyes briefly flickered at Mayka as his words triggered an idea. "I wond-" The old man''s words caught in his throat as he watched the female archer, enraged by her ability and slightly spooked by the old troll''s words, released her arrow, bright green magic wrapping around its head. The arrow hissed through the air before coming to a sudden, jarring stop, the wooden shaft splintering as it smashed into a huge black, torn wing that had instantly appeared and slammed into the ground, protecting Mors from projectiles and blocking him from sight. "Archers, keep its vision limited, the rest of you with me. We will kill this monstrosity and reclaim our honour." roared the large troll as he exploded forward, instinctually trying to take any advantage he could get. Little did they know, mainly due to the wing that covered him, but Mors was humming a tune as he smiled absentmindedly, his eyes closed, watching them with his secondary vision as if his wing was not there. Pulling his other wing backwards and twisting it, so it was more horizontal, Mors'' eyes shot open as he roared some of the lyrics to the song resonating in his head, causing the charging trolls to flinch, destroying their momentum. "LET THE BODIES HIT THE FLOOOOORRRR." BOM:Summoned - Out of the ashes - 16.4 Mors'' shout, and the accompanying pressure caused by his aura exploding forth, even though it did not affect the trolls as much as other species, still caused them to falter. However, they still managed to surround him within a matter of seconds, the two archer''s arrows forcing Mors to continue blocking the projectiles with his wing, covering their advance. When they were less than ten steps away from Mors, the two trolls armed with spears, leapt into the air and thrust their weapons towards his sides, intending to kill, if not immobilise him as the rest prepared to counter-attack if their rush failed. Their teamwork was impressive and although the strategy employed was basic, for the six trolls to utilise it without any conversation or preparation was a testament to their skill and combat prowess, as even seasoned mid-level adventurers would struggle to pull off the manoeuvre. Using his wing that had been embedded into the floor, Mors exploded into action. His right wing, the one held behind his back, surged forward, almost splitting the air with a terrifying hiss and with enough momentum to completely spin Mors as he purposefully lost his balance, extending his reach by a couple of feet. The razor sharp bone protruding from Mors'' outstretched wing sliced through the two spears and accompanying trolls as if they were made of out warm butter, sending their separated body parts spiralling in the air as their entrails sprayed gruesomely outwards. "One, nothing wrong with me." The surviving trolls, including their leader, brandishing his heavy sword, watched with wide, shocked, amber eyes as the world seemed to slow down however Mors did not notice. Lost in his own world and tempo, Mors kicked off the ground, ending his rotation, and slammed heavily into the other swordsman, disarming the troll and grabbing his arms before retracting his wings and rolling forward. As his roll ended, Mors'' feet found the troll''s chest and violently straightened, ripping the long arms from their sockets and moments later, tearing the flesh as they were removed from the troll''s torso, causing green blood to spray outwards as a pain filled scream echoed into the night. "Two, nothing wrong with me." Mors'' kick contained so much force that, as the troll flew into a tree, he reversed his momentum and while falling backwards, the large troll appeared next to him, the red mist around him ominously glowing as he held his sword above his head, intending to slice Mors in half. "DI-" Before he could even start to bring down his heavy sword, blood sprayed from the troll''s mouth as Mors'' tail punctured his chest, its spikes shredding the surrounding flesh and organs, sending them spraying outwards behind the troll. "Three, nothing wrong with me." Retracting his tail and using the troll''s body as a pivot, Mors flipped in the air and the moment his feet touched the floor, turned into a black blur as he hurtled towards the five remaining trolls. Anticipating his actions, the old troll threw himself into Mayka, sending her shooting off to the right just before Mors black, clawed hands clasped the two archer''s heads and his knee mercilessly smashed into the old troll''s temple. As he increased his grip, the oversized claws, in relation to his body, crushed the archer''s heads as the old troll''s face collapsed on one side, killing him instantly, Mors let out a small, triumphant growl. Crashing into the the ground, Mors was already facing the last two remaining trolls as he skidded to a stop. "Four, nothings wrong with me." Mayka and Kia stared at Mors in mute horror. Even though the protection party assigned to Kia was weak, ensuring that it would not hinder her growth, it was still made up of fairly strong individuals and they had been obliterated in around four breaths, seemingly tracked by the unknown sentences of the bo... no monster standing before them.If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Mayka knew they had no chance against the monster; he was simply too fast and merciless. There was not even the hint of restraint or hesitation, as if the youngling was the Harvester himself, come to deliver his final judgement but she still had a mission to complete, even if it cost her, her life. Without waiting another moment, Mayka threw Kia, who had been forced from her grip when she was tackled by the old troll, behind her and raised her arms to the side, as if they would protect her from Mors. "RUN!" Trolls were not afraid of death; however, they were scared of destroying their honour. Against a foe like Mors, Mayka knew she could face her ancestors with pride if only she could ensure Kia''s safety first. The rewards from dying in a fight against a mighty foe paled in comparison to the dishonour of failing her life''s calling. The joyful smile on Mors immediately vanished as he watched the troll''s actions, quickly turning into a snarl, sending a shiver down both Mayka and Kia''s spines. "Well, that''s killed the mood," hissed Mors as he straightened up. "Bah, and it was just getting to the good part of the song." Mayka blinked in disbelief as Mors'' body adopted a casual, none combat stance as he stared at the pair, deep in thought. Falling to her knees, Mayka shakily released a breath, one she did she did not realise she had been holding, as she sensed the killing of Mors diminish. Kia, having sensed the reduced threat as well, moved to Mayka''s back and rested her head on the woman''s shoulder, her amber eyes locked onto Mors. They are weak and pathetic; it would be demeaning to kill them. It would gain nothing. Do not leave loose ends. They will grow and come looking for revenge. If they can''t take me on, they will target those close to me. Feast on their flesh. Eat their cores. Grow. Mercy is for the weak. They were protected for a reason; there could be problems in the future if they are killed. There are no witnesses. There CAN be no witnesses. Eliminate the threat, no matter the cost. You''re nothing but a monster. What will sparing two insignificant troll''s do? You''re only hesitating because they are female and you find the older one somewhat attractive. If it were a male, they would be dead already. Stop being so pathetic; you''re not human anymore. You''re a monster, a demon for fuck sake. Kill or be killed. Mors was silent as thoughts bombarded him, the muscles in his face twitching as he slowly raised his hand and watched it shaking. Discarding the voices whispering in his mind, the scene before him was, in principle, the same as what he had suffered from with Ethemeusa, although at that time, he had been the one that was defended. Now he was the fox-kin, staring down on two that he could kill on a whim and, similar to the feeling he felt in the ice demon''s thrown room, he was disgusted with the thought of killing them. Mors let out a deep growl and pulled a golden amulet, tied with a strap of cloth, from around his neck and stared at it. The gold, reflected the firelight, in the shape of the serpent eating its own tail; its sides had become visibly worn from Mors'' constant attention when he was resting and was the only real possession, even if it was stolen, he had in this world. I came here to become a monster capable of fulfilling my revenge, yet, by witnessing the act of one trying to protect another, I am already hesitating. I should kill them. What good will it do to let them live? They are only potential threats. Taking a deep breath, Mors'' eyes locked on Kia and he spoke to no one in particular and sighed in annoyance. "Ethemeusa, this is the only time your memory will interfere. From now on, apart from my vow to protect your kids. You are well and truly dead to me." Looking at the golden ring one last time, Mors flicked it with his thumb towards Kia, who instinctively caught it as it span. "You''re lucky kid. You just got saved by the memory of a dead person." Turning around, Mors'' body flickered, and he was gone, leaving the two in silence. The two troll''s remained silent for a few minutes before Kia held out the amulet in front of her, revealing a vicious smile that did not fit her young face. "Mayka, we need to return to the den and announce to father that I have gained favour with the monster that has terrorised the easternsector. He even offered me gold, a sign of friendship and," The girls face started to blush a little. ", his interest in me as a woman." Mayka shakily stood up. "We better focus on getting stronger. Gold is only offered to partners that are more powerful and seeing as he left. I think he was telling you to become stronger than him. Earning a true hunters interested is good for a woman, but it often ends in death if the partners are not roughly equal in strength." Kia laughed, ignoring the bodies around her as if they were nothing but plants. "Of course that''s what he meant. How could someone who understands the joy of the hunt not want a strong partner. I will become strong enough to match him and then, if we are paired, I will become queen. Even my brothers wouldn''t dare go against such a fearsome opponent." BOM:Summoned - Out of the ashes - 17.1 Standing at the edge of the forest, a couple of hundred feet from the behemoth that was the Huntsmen''s fortress, Mors took a deep breath before walking forward. He had been standing there for the last thirty minutes, trying to decide how he was going to interact with Verz, finally settling on just being himself. He cared little for anyone else, well that was a small lie as he would quite happily slaughter every other huntsman and eat their cores, but he didn''t feel too negative towards the wolfkin herself so he could at least be civil. Hmm, maybe it''s the effect of that angelic pact, and, not that I would ever admit it to anyone but, I think I might actually be looking forward to seeing her... pathetic. Nodding to himself, feeling he had made a huge mental step forward, even if his latest thoughts slightly disturbed him, from a few weeks ago, Mors'' improved senses picked up the movements of the sentries on top of the domineering, grey-stone walls and ramparts as they noted his presence before completely ignoring him. He had seen this view many times, mostly at night when he visited Ethemeusa''s grave, but he was always impressed by the fortress. It was as if a god had decided to make his last stand, investing everything he could into physical defences and somehow deep down, Mors could not help but praise whatever being created such an outstanding structure. He knew that walls were only the first line of defence. Behind them was a maze of smaller forts, barracks, training grounds and other militaristic buildings. So perfect in their defensive design, that any attacker powerful enough to take the walls would almost certainly fall into despair when they saw the impossible task ahead of them. Mors chuckled, even with his sin of pride, and if he were a trillion times more powerful and an army of millions, he would never attack this place. Every fibre of his being screamed at him of how dangerous it was and for once, it was a challenge he was not tempted to accept. If this is merely a fortress, I wonder what the Federation or Imperial Capitals are like? The thought suddenly struck Mors, and he suddenly had the desire to travel the world. I guess that can wait until I am done with present commitments... it''s not like I have a time limit or plan on destroying the world... anytime soon. Mors smiled at his warped humour and the realisation that, in a world of magic, gods and possessing an immortal soul, it might not be impossible if he really wanted to destroy the world. The sun was only just rising above the treeline behind him as he suddenly stopped, his face contorting in a pained expression as he released a terrifying hiss. God damn it. I didn''t collect the cores, especially from that old man and girl... I was too caught up in the moment. I would of never spared her if I remembered. Holding the bridge of his nose as he took deep breaths, he resisted the urge to turn around and return to collect his prizes. They will be gone Mors. There is no point in going back. You''re just going to have to find another creature with the fire attribute to kill. There''s bound to be millions of them. Just let go... let it go. Aww, fuck it I want to kill something so bad. Mors had been in a bad mood ever since he was reminded of Ethemeusa''s sacrifice, but with the realisation of his loss, he was now livid. Great, one bloody step forward, two steps back. I know it has always been like this in life, but it''s getting pretty damn irritating. Deciding to distract himself, Mors focused on what he had to do and before long; a wicked smile grew on his face. I hope those wannabe huntsmen are up for a fight. Verz did say that anything was OK as long as they didn''t die. Though I can''t promise anything if they are weaklings, I haven''t exactly been practising restraint. Mors'' smile vanished as he felt a light, almost unnoticeable pressure on his shoulder causing him to subconsciously flinch. Slowly looking over, Mors spotted a white, frail looking hand and immediately knew who it belonged to. A feminine, lighthearted voice flowed gently into his opposite ear. "My, so early in the morning and you are already oozing bloodlust. I pity the woman that wakes up next to you... though you will probably be a demoness''s wet dream when you evolve. Looking like a brat is kind of a turn-off, or so I hear." Mors jumped forward, releasing another hiss, before rapidly turning around and glaring at the Huntsman wearing brown leather armour, her silver eyes creased by the smile that was hidden behind her white mask. "That''s assuming they ever wake up." "Hmm, didn''t know you were into the undead. I guess my beauty and charm has warped you a little," chuckled Verz. Initially, she was extremely hostile to the thought of yet another person knowing her secret, but after thinking about it, if Mors was going to become the successor of the Moon Clan, she would hide nothing from him, even the fact that she was an undead. Verz making light of her condition was her way to limit its effect as a potential weapon and hopefully, make it less appealing for Mors to use as she knew he had an explosive temper. Mors'' eyes twitched. "Urg, I think I preferred the cold, heartless Verz. I guess this attitude change is permanent?" "Yup, well, when no one else is around. What''s the point when you seem to pretty much know everything? Anyway, it just makes it more fun for me. It''s not often I can taument.. I mean talk freely with someone other than Velcea, and she isn''t much fun to tease," responded Verz, flicking her head to the side, causing her silver hair to catch the sunlight, her wolf ears twitching slightly. Mors couldn''t help but groan as another one of Grim''s ''gifted'' memories turned out to be true. He suspected it, with how she interacted with Rock and the others but, he was really hoping that this wasn''t the case as it was a personality he had always been weak to in his past life. Deciding that he could not deal with Verz at the moment, particularly since he was still annoyed by his forgetfulness and was keen to keep his temper under control, Mors started walking towards the fortress. "Shall we get some clothes or do you want your only disciple to look like some homeless bum in front of all your ''friends''?" Verz laughed as she stepped beside him, the two long silver swords rattling as she walked. "I thought you were going to decide after the initiation?" Mors shrugged. "Until I am strong enough, it will help having a real monster keeping the riffraff at bay, and it''s not like you will take no for an answer is it?"The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. Verz was obviously extremely happy with his answer, shown by her tail rapidly moving from side to side, and quickly threw a small leather bag to Mors. "A little present for you accepting so quickly. Though I am slightly disappointed that I couldn''t use the backup plans. Throwing you into a den of sex deprived succubuses or breaking all your limbs and making a different person take care of your needs each day, like a little baby, were probably amongst some of the most attractive options. Mors'' eye twitched. "I don''t think that either of them would have ended very well for you and to be honest, just so you don''t get any weird ideas in the future, I don''t know what would have been worse. Unlike everyone else on this damn planet, I value my intimate encounters." "No, I doubt they would of, but I get the feeling it would have been funny to watch. And don''t be such a prude. Even the strongest of us can die at any moment. Why let a good thing pass if the moments right? It''s basic nature for every creature to want to pass on their seed," chuckled Verz, scratching under her chin with a dagger. Ignoring Verz, Mors opened the small bag and was shocked to find red and black mana cores, much smaller than the trolls but still enough to give him a decent power boost in an emergency, however, as he recovered from his surprise; Mors couldn''t help but frown. "How do you know? Also, what are you after by giving these to me?" "What? Can''t I treat my favourite pupil once in a while, especially if it helps him get stronger?" Verz held the black with red flecks plate, strikingly similar in colour to the mana cores, that had formed out of Mors'' hand at the cemetery in front of him so that he could see the blue writing on its surface.
Devourer of mana [Mythical]
Defying the laws of Acoria, the host can devour mana cores, using the released energy to improve his body, increase the effectiveness of skills and abilities for a limited time. Cores that are not related to the host''s affinities will poison the host, reducing the ability to manipulate mana and cause extreme pain until purged from the body. None affiliated mana types effectiveness reduced by 50% Slight permanent increase to muscle strength and durability Slight permanent increase to mana capacity Warning: Increases the risk of mana related mutations.
Mors tried to take the plate, but Verz quickly hid it in a pocket on her side. "Nope, I am keeping this. How else am I going to know how fast you''re improving or if you have gotten yourself killed and I have to start abducting newborns?" Mors released a small growl before chucking a mana core into his mouth and crunching, feeling his tired muscles ease and tingle. Verz eyes were wide and she almost tripped over her own foot, for the first time in four hundred years. "Even though I know the status stone will never lie, it''s still unbelievable that you can just chow down on a mana core as if it were nothing. Doesn''t it hurt?" After thinking for a moment, Mors could not think of a good reason not to tell Verz, seeing as she had read the same status he had and it wasn''t as if the information would be detrimental to him. "As long as they are of the fire or darkness affinity, I only feel mild discomfort until I need to take a piss, then... well, let''s just say it''s a bit explosive." Verz laughed as Mors continued with a sarcastic tone. "That''s nothing compared to when it''s another affinity or mixed; it''s more painful than being burnt at stake with imbued fire." Verz eyebrow raised behind her mask. "Well, seeing as the mana should cause your body to disintegrate, I guess you are getting off pretty light and out of everyone I know, you are the only person who qualifies to make that comparison." "That I am," muttered Mors as he analysed the stone blocks, faint blue runes could be seen reflecting the sun''s rays before his gaze moved to the huge gatehouse where a few merchant caravans were waiting to gain entry. "But you know what they say, no pain, no gain." Verz''s laugh caused Mors to flinch, immediately realising his mistake. "Never heard of that one but I am sure you are going to regret telling me." Mors could do nothing but shake his head. "I don''t doubt that for a second." The pair easily passed the guards, who saluted their captain with the uttermost relevance and they quickly made their way through the twisting streets towards the centre. "Mors," Verz broke the uncomfortable silence. "You''re a demon of wrath. Even though I feel my actions was justifiable at the time and... that my current feelings may have swayed by your ability, I won''t apologise for the way I treated you. At that moment, I did what I had to do and apologising for that would be a lie. Are you really willing to let bygones be bygones and become my disciple?" Mors smiled as he took in the sights of the militaristic city. "Nope." Verz steps faulted. "But who said I really had an issue with you in the first place. The others, how they acted on a mere rumour, definitely, and I don''t think I will ever see eye to eye with them. I guess my reaction in the cemetery towards you was just..." Mors stopped as he struggled to find words that his pride would allow him to speak. " just..." Verz turned her head to look at the struggling demon. "You acting like a spoilt child?" Mor''s head snapped to look at Verz, and he let out a hiss. "I was just thinking it would be a kindness to put someone who was already dead and suffering out of their misery so why not stay close and make sure you regret every moment of your undead life." Verz shrugged her shoulders as she stepped into a tall building, the sound of metal working ringing out the door. "Whatever you say little demon, whatever you say." Mors stared at the doorway before letting out and almost inaudible sigh. "I really wish I stayed in the forest." Without wasting any more time, he followed her into the building. Over five hours later, the sun was high in the sky as crowds of noble looking people were escorted by ever watchful huntsmen guards, ensuring that the nobles were not a threat, towards a huge oval shaped colosseum, towering into the bright sky, the intense sun having burnt off the early morning cloud. Letting out a disapproving grunt, a fat noble complained to a skinny woman with a sharp, bird-like face, both dressed in regal-looking red silks. "How can they get away with treating us like cattle, especially after charging us so much to get into this oversized hill-fort. They even have the audacity to make us pay for any younglings they do not want." The skinny woman revealed a cold smile. "Even the rejects of the Huntsmen have incredible potential. Be happy you have not been removed for all your complaining. Our numbers are not as large as they were when we arrived." Another man, this one wearing blue silk under his light, plate armour responded after overhearing the two. "Suspected spies from a certain clan. They are probably regretting the day their parents met at this moment, but your friend is right. We have been sent here because we are expendable if we offend our hosts. Stop your grumbling before you too disappear and drag innocent people with you." The fat man glared at the newcomer but did not say anything and soon they were led to the rows of stone seats surrounding the Colosseum, seemingly nothing more than oversized steps. Once seated, they gazed upon the centre, their eyes trying to make sense of the seemingly chaotic layout. Wooden pillars of varying height rose from the floor, surrounded by a maze of stone walls, ramps and even some deep looking pits. The whole thing looked more of an assault course than an arena but then again, the initiation was not designed to just test an individual''s strength, but other, more subtle aspects. The seats the nobles occupied was less than five percent of the stadium''s total capacity, but that did not mean it was empty. Every other seat was filled by a silent, black cloaked, white masked huntsmen, each looking forpotential disciples to adopt into their teams. The only place that was not crowded was a large platform above the only entrance to the arena. There, five chairs, one at the front, flanked by two at each side, were occupied by the leaders of the Huntsmen. The only vacant seat holding a single, black rose. Verz scanned the crowd impatiently. Normally she would pass the responsibility for overseeing the trial to one of her lieutenants. However, she was to use this trial as a benchmark for Mors'' ability so she could accurately gauge where to start their training. Her final words to him as she left him in the entrance tunnels was that if he did not go all out, she would personally make his life for the next week a living hell. The wolfkin chuckled as a terrifying grin appeared under her mask. Well, he is probably going to think its hell anyway. What was that saying? No pain, No gain. A single Huntsman appeared on the largest pole, in the centre of the arena, and the soon noisy nobles fell silent. "Welcome to the two-hundredth and sixteenth huntsmen initiation exams. I will now explain the rules for the benefit of the visitors before we get underway. BOM:Summoned - Out of the ashes - How to become a Huntsman - 17.2 (Unedited/No PR) The Huntsman, standing on the pole in the centre of the arena, slightly hunched from old age, scanned the audience focusing on the guests to ensure they were listening before speaking. "The objective of the initiation is to judge individuals competency, most noticeably, personality, resourcefulness, combat prowess and tenacity. "During the trial, the Huntsmen from their representative groups will be able to bid on individuals that interest them, using our token system. When a person is eliminated, the Huntsman with the highest bid will collect them from the arena and take them to their section''s head for induction. If there have been no bids, then the individual is free to sell their services at the auction in central plaza tomorrow and will leave the field as soon as possible. However, their safety is not guaranteed until they have passed the barrier and they must fend for themselves. I must also remind the guest representatives that there is a twenty percent finders feed applied to any successful recruitments." The man let out a deep breath as if just speaking was extremely taxing. "This year there are fifty-one participants and the trial is expected to last anywhere from thirty minutes to two hours. During this time no one may enter or exit the arena, and the use of transmission crystals is prohibited." The man''s arms swept outwards. "That leads me onto the next point. The maze-like arena and it''s many traps have been specially prepared for this event and, although there are no rules against participants actions against them, once the trial has started, there are charms and wards set up to eliminate any outside interference. If someone is foolish enough to attempt it, and if they survive the defensive spells, they will be punished severely." A moment''s silence passed as he let the threat sink in before continuing. "There are only two absolute rules. The first is that participants are expressly forbidden from killing each other. However, due to the nature of the trial and the difficulty holding back certain skills and abilities, they will not be accountable for any injuries inflicted or, if after the trial has ended, a participant succumbs to their wounds as long as it is deemed that the individual responsible did not intend to kill. Most of the nobles nodded their heads at the Huntsmen''s words. However, a few, who had never witnessed the Huntsmen induction before, started whispering to their neighbours, making sure they understood what his last statement truly meant. Two such figures were the fat, red robbed man and thin woman but they soon fell into the silence as one of the nearby guests elaborated loudly. "A deterrent to stop the strong from wiping out the weak while giving those with... certain skills the flexibility to impress. Though few try to kill under the gaze of hundreds of trained professionals." "Rember last year when someone got all their limbs ripped off and the wounds cauterised so they wouldn''t bleed out." whispered another man to his companion, scratching is greying beard. "In this world, being disabled without strong backing is pretty much a death sentence yet, not a word was spoken of it. The woman responsible even got the highest bidding score." The man''s friend responded dryly. "The poor kid died from shock after the trial ended so she didn''t break the rules." The Huntsman cleared his throat, silencing the crowd. "Secondly, if a participant moves past the outer protective barrier, they are disqualified." Flicking his wrist upwards, a sandy yellow, dome-like a shield became briefly visible, its bottom matching a dark, circular line a metre away from the arena''s walls. "Now onto the format of the trial." "Each participant will have a magically imbued plate, the size of a small fist, that they must wear, visibly, on their chests. The plate represents a single token and the participant''s entry." "These tokens are used to purchase weapons, armours, materials and anything else they may need while at our fortress as well as paying for the more advanced courses and unique skill training, so it is absolutely critical that students acquire as many of them as they can." "There are three ways for an individual to be disqualified. Breaking one of the absolute rules already mentioned. Having their token stolen or having it destroyed." "A broken token is worthless, and so, the participants must try to take them without breaking if they wish to have a head start in their new lives." "A participant may destroy their own plate to remove themselves from the trial. If they do, they can keep any tokens claimed from others without the risk of them being stolen." "Hmph, teaching them to quit while the going''s good," snorted the fat man, his contempt growing for the overly complicated rules. "Let them duke it out and pick the winners." The woman could only shake her head. "You don''t become an organisation feared by the big three with brute strength alone. If anything, it''s terrifying they are looking for these qualities straight off the bat. If this is the requirements for the raw materials, what would they become with half a decade''s training?" A few of the nearby guests nodded in approval of the woman''s statement, choosing to ignore the man. "The trial will be officially over when either, all the participants are eliminated or, last year''s champion, Bruce Ironfist, is defeated. He will be stationed at the centre of the arena with an indestructible token worth fifty points. If all participants are eliminated, then he will claim the points as his own. If he is defeated, the tokens will be shared amongst the surviving members." "And there is the teamwork side of things." chuckled the woman, her eyes burning with anticipation. "Everyone could be an ally or an enemy making this a game of wits as much as strength. This is so much better than Alzor''s arenas." As the Huntsman''s words faded, a slow rumbling came from four opposite corners of the top of the coliseum as dark-grey slabs vertically lifted into the air. Bright blue lines on them matching the arena''s layout on its surface.Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. After they had fully risen and slightly slanted forward, providing the correct angle for spectators to see, a small red dot appeared in the middle with a faint, green line leading to the edge, where a small info box appeared. Name: [Locked], Age: 178, Rank : [Locked], Bid: 1 (Locked) "The arena''s status plates will provide the names and ranks of all participants. This way you will be able to keep track of who is engaged in what fight and the current bid. The are no blocking enhancements so the participants can see and use the information as they see fit."
Name: [Locked], Age: 102, Rank : [Locked], Bid: 0
Another red dot appeared at the edge of the plate and quickly threw a large knife at the man in the centre, the green lines glowed as their info boxes merged.
Name: [Locked], Age: 178, Rank : [Locked], Bid: 1 (Locked)
VS
Name: [Locked], Age: 102, Rank : [Locked], Bid: 0
Nodding his head to the new arrival, who quickly disappeared, the announcer lifted his arms into the air, causing fifty-one brown, runic circles to appear, equally spaced out, at the perimeter of the arena. "That''s all. The trial will start in five minutes." Two rows of people of varying size and species exited the single entrance and quickly positioned themselves on top of the circles. A few caused quiet murmurs from the Huntsmen and open statements of disbelief from the guests. "The one with the golden scales looks like one of those new dragonkin species? I heard they only lived in Dragon''s Retreat or the Cove." "Look, that girl is an ice demon! What in the seven hells is one doing here?" "A Haunting! I heard they were almost extinct after the Second Holy Crusade." "Ahh, even a Nymph. Coming here is never a disappointment." Walking lazily, the last one out of the tunnel was covered in a black cloak, its cowl covering his face as his dark, leather armour absorbed the light and was almost entirely ignored. Unlike the others, this one did not carry any weapons and after stopping at the circle in front of him, let out a loud, uninterested yawn. With the sound of stone grating, Rock leant forward until his head was in line with Verz. "Are you sure about this? I completely trust your judgement that he isn''t a Sun Clan spy but... he caused Eth''s death and doesn''t seem to be taking this second chance seriously." "We all make mistakes, and honestly, if I sensed the object of my hate lurking nearby, I doubt I would have been able to restrain myself either," sighed Verz. "If I could turn back time and save Eth, I would, but the past is the past. The Huntsmen are nothing more than a mean''s to an end for me but you guys... are my only family, so I hope you understand I did not make this decision lightly. Oh, and don''t let his act fool you, he is probably the most focused one out there." Kelora shuffled forward and peered over the edge at Mors, her eyes narrowing. "He''s... different than before. Before, it looked like a spirit possessing another''s body, stiff and unbalanced but now..." Verz chuckled, though it was clear she was still saddened by the previous topic. "The only thing demon''s and dragons have in common is that they do not grow and improve with time like most other species, but through violent, life-threatening battles and near death experiences. You know the trolls in the south-west sector?" Kelora and rock nodded once. "Well, we no longer have to worry about culling their numbers for the next few years after what that little demon did in the name of eliminating his own weaknesses. Only a handful escaped back to their Den in the West, and they have already sent an envoy with offerings in exchange for protection from," Verz couldn''t help but laugh, " the Harvester." Kelora raised an eyebrow, deciding to ignore the fact the trolls were linking Mors to the God of Deaths, Mortal existence. "Are you sure? They are Knight rank or higher and are an extremely aggressive predatory species. There is no way an impulsive weakling like him could do that amount of damage. Even a Count ranked fighter, with unlimited time, would be hard pus-" "Just watch," interrupted Verz as she noticed the announcer was about to begin. "Also why haven''t you disabled the bidding for him? I am not going to share." Kelora sat back in her chair, and with a few hand signals, one of the statuses on the large arena plates changed.
Name: Mors Letus, Age: 1 month, 1 week, Rank: Barron - 1 Star, Bid: Claimed.
Keeping a mind''s eye on the fifty-three presences in the arena, which included the one hidden in the centre, Mors found his name on the status plate and frowned. "I really should ask someone about the ranking system. I have no clue what they mean." The change in the writing caused Mors information to stand out and, as one, the arena almost exploded as people revealed their surprise. They had not really checked the board yet, preferring to focus after the first ten or so had been eliminated, however, noticing Mor''s age and rank, they were shocked beyond belief. To have that amount of strength at such a young age was almost mythical. Mors felt hundreds of eyes land on him, causing him to let out an irritated snort. "Fucking great. I bet she did that on purpose so I would be targeted from the start and watched like a hawk. So much for having some fun before things got serious. The other participants, after noticing the commotion, checked the board and then looked in Mors'' direction, even if they could not seem him due to the maze, caution, fear and... anger emanating from their eyes. The only one''s who didn''t show this reaction was the ice demon, Ryen, and the demonic goblin, Beth. Ryen shivered violently as she locked her face in grim resolve while the Beth couldn''t help but excitedly hop up and down. Verz and the other lieutenants had spent the last three days helping Ryen to try and overcome her trauma. She knew that in order to break the bond of complete submission she would first need to master her fear. The fear of the monster that lived in the sea of darkness, surrounded by an army of white spirits with glowing red eyes. When she told Verz, the wolfkin had tried to explain it as the illusion of a skill or ability, but Ryen knew better. She had seen the beast in its true form. Now he was dreaming, but one day he would wake, and when he did, she did not want to be anywhere near. Verz words, just before she left to meet Mors, resonated in her head. "Get as many tokens as you can and offer them to him when you meet, he will reject them, but his pride should stop him attacking you. This way you can get closer to him and get used to his presence. Only after that will you have a chance of regaining your freedom." Ha, if I see him I will probably disgrace myself again. No matter what they say, I am not ready for this. I will get some tokens and forfeit. Kelora has already stated she will win the bid for me. I have nothing to prove to these... monkeys and scaled freaks. A fireball erupted into the air, pulling the demoness from her thoughts, announcing the start of the trial as a thunderous voice boomed outwards. "BEGIN." BOM:S - OotA - 17.3 - Initiation start Book of Mors: Summoned Arc:Out of the Ashes Chapter 17,Part 3: Initiation start **************************** After roaring thirty metres into the sky, the announcer''s fireball exploded with a deafening boom as his figure flickered, vanishing from the centre poll and signalling the start of the trial. As the noise of the explosion died down, it was replaced by the cheers of the spectators, mostly the guests, as the forty-eight Huntsmen candidates dashed forward, trying to get into the cover of the maze-like, sand-coloured walls and obstacles before their rivals could target them. By the time the first few competitors had disappeared into the maze, not even pausing to initiate combat as they wanted to secure the prime locations, small explosions, the clash of metal and hiss of arrows tearing through the air, had filled the arena. At this early stage of the trial, most of the guests were more interested in entertaining themselves and making bets than evaluating potential candidates, even if the ones that fell early were more than likely going to be the only ones they could recruit. The guests, so taken by the powerful movements and flashy spells as small skirmishes erupted towards the centre and open areas of the maze, along with most of the Huntsman, soon forgot about the lone, unmoving figure standing by the entrance. His black cloak gently rustling from the shockwaves and rapid changes in airflow. Watching his supposed rivals testing the waters, unwilling to commit or reveal too much this early on, Mors released a loud, unimpressed yawn as his gaze fell to his feet and he observed his rapidly diminishing shadow as the scorching sun approached its zenith. This is it? Mors earlier enthusiasm to vent his anger had been appeased by the bag of mana core''s Verz had given him. And after seeing the level of skill from the other competitors, he was finding it increasingly difficult to motivate himself. At least some appear to be grouping up, it might make this more bearable. Maybe I should wait until they challenge last year''s champion and analyse the situation before I act, thought Mors, even as he berated himself for his attitude. Since when have I been so lazy? Mors'' lazy, uninterested behaviour, along with his young age, attracted the attention of the two competitors at either side of him, who also had not charged into the fray. After nodding at each other, clearly indicating that they were more than strangers, they charged towards Mors, greed sparkling in their eyes as such an easy target. They thought that the pinnacle stage one, that is to say, six-year-old-looking, cloaked reptilian boy, would be an easy target for their combo attack, earning them an easy token and hopefully some recognition from one of the Huntsmen. Stifling a sigh, Mors lazily kicked the dirt beneath him. Will I actually learn anything from this? I should have just stayed in the forest and trained. I feel like I am so close to... breaking through something. I just need... Urg, this is why I need guidance, not some stupid ritualist competition. Mors was brought out of his thoughts as a long, leg-like shadow rapidly approached from the left side, aimed at his head, and another, looking to be a warped, elongated arm, appeared on his other side, sweeping towards his calf. Long, droopy ears, belonging to the dogkin that was in the process of launching a flying kick at Mors'' head, fluttered in the wind. What is this kid doing here? Everyone else is at least eighteen years old or reached their level two evolution. Must be some rich kid or the child of a Huntsman who got in on a favour. We should end this quickly and without too much humiliation or else we could be stabbing ourselves in the foot. His eyes flickered towards the human-looking woman, her dark brown hair spreading outwards as she span, her long, silver sword intending to hamstring the boy when he dodged her friend''s attack. When their gaze met, she understood his intent and restricted the force she was applying to limit the damage so her strike would not permanently cripple. Matheus, I hope you know what you are doing. We shouldn''t be going easy on anyone in this den of wolves. Unknown to anyone, even Verz and the few high levelled Huntsmen who were watching him like hawks, Mors'' reptilian pupils rapidly constricted as he released a low, almost inaudible growl, repeating a chant he had been using over his gruelling training. "Whether a king of a road sweeper..." Just as the dogkin''s foot was about to connect to his head, Mors'' arm blurred as he grabbed the young man''s shin, violently twisting it until a bone-jarring crack resonated outwards before turning towards the woman, using the boy''s body as a makeshift club. "... everyone gets to dance with the Grim Reaper." It happened so quick that the dogkin had not registered the pain in his leg, his vision blurring before finding himself atop of the woman, crumbled in a heap against the arena''s wall, outside the protective barriers. His brain jarring for a few moments, trying to understand what had happened, he finally felt the pain in his right shin and released an agonising scream as the woman coughed copious amounts of blood. Most of her ribs and sternum had been broken by the sudden impact. She painfully pushed him off her before letting out a disappointed sigh. There were no huntsmen to greet them. They had failed the test spectacularly, less than a minute after it started and it was highly unlikely even the nobles would want to hire them after that performance. Grasping his two new tokens, Mors turned towards the arena. Disappointing. With how noisy and obvious they were, I could have done that with my eyes closed and my hands tied behind my back. Mors chuckled darkly, the small taste of combat awakening something inside, causing his heart rate to increase.Stolen novel; please report. I guess I can''t use those sayings anymore. If I closed my eyes, then it really would be unfair to them. If I used my wings... they would be dead. As he walked, Mors felt the smooth caress of fresh air on the lower half of his calf, the small cut flexing open, deep enough to cut the leather armour but too shallow to cut his tough skin, causing his steps to falter. A primordial, jaw-clenching rage started to overtake him, merging with the earlier feeling as his back hunched slightly and his body tensed. I swear to whatever god, deity or leech that can hear my thoughts, if my clothes get any more damaged, I am going to burn every temple, follower, person and plant within a thousand mile radius. I am sick of running around naked or in rags. Why the fuck can''t they design clothes to withstand something as simple as a bloody metal sword when there are supposedly people with enough power to blow away a mountain. What do they do? Wander around naked all the time or just kill everyone they meet. Shit, I need to calmdown, I can''t afford to lose myself here. Not yet anyway. Mors reluctantly started thinking about when he was getting his new armour, shuddering slightly at the memory of an old man''s lecherous grin. I am sure that damn, perverted old tailor copped a feel on purpose. I know that this world is beyond liberal with sexual orientation, I mean it''s not even frowned upon for cross-species relationships, but come on. I am less than a year old and have the body of a six-year-old. How is that acceptable in any world? Even if it is one as fucked up as this. Mors pushed his thoughts of revenge on the old tailor to the back of his mind as he focused on what was ahead of him, trying to block out the noise of the crowd. In his past life, he hated crowded places, and now that his senses were enhanced, the influx of information was almost crippling making things much, much worse, feeling like his head was about to explode if he focused on anything for too long. His clenched jaw relaxed as Mors flexed his fingers intimidating, his previous rage-filled expression turning emotionless as he fell into the mindset he had developed during his training. Hunt, Kill, Eat, Sleep, Grow, Repeat. As the determination to complete this task and find a quiet place to rest appeared on his face, Mors'' body morphed into a black blur, shooting forward with incredible speed, drawing the attention of most of the spectators at the sudden movement. Entering the maze of walls, Mors rapidly approached a T-junction and fell into a foot first slide, narrowly avoiding a sword that glistened through the air his chest had occupied a few moments before. His ambusher, a gaunt-looking elf in green leather armour, could only watch in horror as Mors'' slid under his strike before digging his leading foot into the ground, the force of the sudden stop helping his body to regain its standing position. Without any change in his facial expression, Mor returned to his feet, casually backhanding the elf in the process, smashing his face into the wall he had been using to hide, immediately knocking him unconscious. Before the body had even started to fall, Mors had removed the token. Three out of a hundred. Mors did not plan to let anyone escape him, even the old champion. Taking a quick look at the arena''s board, he noticed some numbers in the top corner.
47/51
Scanning for where he was and nearby prey, Mors'' emotionless face cracked as he looked at the fifty-meter long wall to his side. Surely it won''t hurt to have a little fun. You know, just to keep things interesting. On the opposite side of the wall a short, red-headed male was fighting with a white, rabbit-eared woman, both looking to be in their early twenties. The man fired a few earth spikes towards the woman with outstretched hands, who quickly shot condensed blobs of water that either redirected the spikes or completely eroded them before reaching her. Gasping for breath, they looked at each other, determination and annoyance dancing in their eyes. Releasing a sigh after realising that this fight would drain too much of his mana and stamina, the man showed a weak smile. "Why don''t we team up? If we continue like this, even if one of us wins, it isn''t going to do us any favours? We both cover each other''s weaknesses, and as defensive mana types, even physical types won''t be able to get close if we cover each other. Nodding once, the woman agreed and the pair walked towards each other, planning on shaking hands, the sign of a verbal contract. The rabbit-eared woman did not look entirely happy with the deal. "Fine but this isn-" Before she could finish, when they were less than four feet from each other, the wall to their left exploded outwards. Both of their eyes went wide as the world seemed to crawl to a halt. Their mental capacities as mages being much more advanced than their physical abilities, enabling them to analyse the situation faster than their bodies could react. As the rubble that was once a wall rotated in the air, with smaller shards that would undoubtedly hurt, rapidly approaching the pair, they spotted a small, black figure amongst the stone. "Heeerreee''s Mors." Even though Mors intended the words to be playful, his voice caused the two to break out in a cold sweat and shudder violently. Mors'' head was facing the man, having used his second sight to identify the biggest threat, and due to the wind, his cowl was lifted enough for their eyes to meet, the man instantly releasing his bladder. One of the effects of Mors repressing his aura was that it somehow leaked into his body, mostly his voice and eyes, slowly building in strength the longer he maintained it. It still had the same restrictions, that it was not really useful on people stronger than him, or those who had strong mental resistances. During his training, he had broken into the next realm in terms of strength, and at the moment, out of all the participants, including the champion, only two were stronger. The man could not help releasing a small whimper, but before it could even pass his lips, he felt his vision moving in the same direction of the exploding wall, keeping pace with the debris. The sensation of a small, soft hand on his head reached the man''s mind, finally realising it was the boy''s, but it was too late. A moment later, his vision went black as his head slammed into the wall with a crack, Mors restraining his strength enough not to obliterate the skull, although he was unsure what sort of long term damage he had done, not that he really cared. The rabbitkin, shocked by the sickening noise from the man''s skull, snapped out of her daze, casting two water bolts at Mors as well as a long, blue whip crashing down from above, intending to go all out. Due to holding back, and the loss of momentum from crashing into the wall, Mors'' body had completely stopped with his back to the woman, making it seem as if he was completely open. This caused the rabbitkin to offer a silent pray in thanks to her gods. Her instincts telling her that a predator had arrived that needed to be eliminated or avoided at all costs. Luckily for her, it seemed that it was just a youngling that got lucky with a surprise attack. To feel true terror, you must first have hope. Without looking, Mors had grasped the man''s token and span, using his tail to knock the woman off her feet as he contorted his body so that the water bolts, shaped blobs of highly condensed water, harmlessly passed and the whip, losing its foundation, was tugged backwards and became completely useless. Stomping forward, Mors accidentally stamped on the woman''s knee, breaking it. Unlike the dogkin earlier, the woman was an experienced mage who had suffered many trials and tribulations to learn her craft, and instead of screaming, her mouth opened as a dark green liquid shot towards Mors. With an unamused look, bordering on disgust, Mors, slapped the liquid away, the remains hissing angrily on the palm of his hand. "Nature and water huh?" mumbled Mors as he quickly used his knee to smash into the shocked woman''s face, breaking her nose and removing her token. He had no need to waste energy knocking them out, as once he removed the token, they were disqualified and while he could have easily increased the force in the strike, he wanted the woman to feel pain for injuring him before someone got the chance to heal her. This way, he wouldn''t have too much of a grudge next time he saw her. He felt it was a little tit for tat, but it helped him control his wrath to some extent. As he stood back up, looking at the red, sore looking skin on his hand, two cloaked Huntsmen appeared and picked up the two mages before disappearing from Mors'' sight, causing him to growl. Still so much difference between us... I need to get stronger. Author Update Hey All, Sorry for not posting chapters recently, My misses went into labour early last week (with complications), delivery our two wonder additions to the family (A girl called Fae and a boy called William. I have been sleeping/staying at the hospitalsince (only returning home today) as Fae and mum are well enough (William is still in critical care).This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there. As you can imagine, running a new startup and juggling twins is.... what is sleep again? and so, releases might be a little slow/non-existant for the next month or so. I have the rough versions ready and have NO intention of dropping the story, I just need to get somewhat sorted and somewhat stable before I can dedicate time to my hobbies. Sorry for the inconvenience and look forward to posting regularlyagain soon :) Skada88 BOM:S - OotA - 17.4 - Quiet before the storm [Draft] Book of Mors: Summoned Arc:Out of the Ashes Chapter 17,Part 4: Quiet before the storm **************************** The spectators watched with morbid curiosity, their murmurs quickly turning to a deafening roar as a first stage, demon imp, usually known for being cunning but physically weak, brutally dispatching his opponents without a shred of mercy or restraint, leaving some barely alive. It was not the level of violence that drew everyone''s attention, as it was not uncommon for this kind of event, but his merciless, preditor-like hunt that did not even give a slither of face or respect to his opponents. In a world dominated by magic, differing species with unique abilities and where the gods often intervened, needlessly making enemies was seen as incredibly foolish. This line of thought had grown to such an extent that an unwritten code, one of showing honour and respect towards your foes, had become commonplace. This rule, which was deeply embedded in all societies on the continent, was one of the only reasons why the Huntsmen and the Sun Council had not dragged the Federation into a bloody all out war decades, if not centuries, ago and attempted, where possible to keep their war private. Seeing this rule being flouted so openly in a none lethal competition, and by a first stage evolution, vastly different from the growth types like humans, was setting the crowd ablaze. Everyone wanted to know who was backing this unknown entity, especially seeing as he seemed to be fearless of any consequences to his actions. It was also painfully obvious that the imp was trying to eliminate his opponents in the quickest, non-flashy way possible, creating a mysterious air about him as if he was trying to keep his identity a secret. This was far from the truth, and in reality, Mors wanted to end the competition as fast as possible and continue consuming the fire mana stone''s Verz had given him, seeing the battle as a waste of time. The blue robbed noble, shuffled to the edge of the guest spectator box, never taking his eyes off Mors and leant towards one of the huntsmen, now standing to see over his peers. "Excuse me, sir, do you know anything about the imp? We got a briefing on all the competitors last night, but I seem to have forgotten." A deep, gnawing chuckle emanated from the white mask as the huntsmen''s azure eyes locked onto the man. "He is just participating as a matter of formality. He''s already a Huntsman so forget about him." The man could only nod, a glimmer of hope fading in his eyes. "Ahh, of course. He is pretty much perfect assassin or ranger material; I was just wondering why we haven''t heard of a tamed demonic imp fitting his description. It doesn''t look like he is one to keep his head out of trouble."Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. "Tame?" The Huntsman couldn''t help but burst into laughter, causing his peers to curiously look over. "That demon has been personally selected by the Bloodhound herself. Our captain hasn''t chosen an adept in four hundred years. Even with his bad reputation, we all expect great things from the little devil." "Devil?" The word had snapped the noble from his thoughts. "Just a nickname," chuckled the Huntsmen, turning back to watch the fight, ending the conversation abruptly and leaving the man even more puzzled. It wasn''t just the crowd that was focused on Mors, on the balcony above the entrance, Verz and her team were watching intently. "Seems like the runt isn''t completely useless," grumbled Kelora, her face a stone mask. "Come on now, how long are you going to keep blaming him for Eth''s death? He obviously has a big grip with that fox bastard, like most of us. If I saw the damned, fluffy eared mongrel that destroyed my village, I couldn''t say I wouldn''t have done the same, even with my experience." said Rock, small stones flying from his mouth as he munched on a boulder, spraying the irritated demoness. Kelora let out a deep sigh as she rested her head in her palm, her red, flowing hair covering her face. "Sin. Can''t help it." "You demon''s have it tough," responded Rock, nodding as if in confirmation as he swallowed the remainder of the rock in one gulp. "Makes me wonder what it''s going to be like for him. Not only does he have two sins, the worst two by the way, but he has dragon''s blood and that angelic blessing." "Not really a blessing. That vulnerability will get the boy killed," interjected Velcea, clearly bored. "We all know the legends. The first few generations of demons were incredibly powerful but had too many weaknesses that could be exploited. They didn''t last long, and the only reason they survived as a species was that the angelic traits were more and more submissive as the blood diluted. Those traits in certain species can be considered a bonus, but for one with devil blood, it''s nothing but deadly." Rock''s brows grated as he frowned. "But the drag-" "Dragon this dragon that, why don''t you go and marry one, you lump of earth," hissed Kelora. "If anything is going to save the brat, it''s going to be the devil markings." "Or his God''s blessing." said Verz absentmindedly as she sat on the edge of her seat, watching every movement Mors and his opponents made. The comment caused the rest to freeze, and after a few seconds, slowly turn towards Verz, their eyes filled with disbelief. "What do you mean?" said Velcea, almost shouting. Kelora was less restrained and reached out and grabbed Verz'' arm. "How can he have a blessing? Didn''t you see what that holy fire did to his body? He is nothing like that dragonkin?" "Of course his body would over-react to fire blessed by the Goddess of Light, also known as the goddess of life. Our little demon down there represents a certain old god, one that the new gods could not depose when they took over." A light-hearted chuckle emanated from behind Verz''s mask which caused the others to shiver violently, knowing full well what that sound often foreshadowed. After a few moments, realisation appeared on everyone''s face as they turned to look at Mors as he rapidly made his way towards the golden dragonkin who had gathered a small party around him in preparation to assault last year''s champion. Verz voice was almost hoarse with excitement. "Now, shall we shut up and enjoy the show? Two new species, Dragonkin and Draconic Demon are about to lock horns and all you want to do is gossip like a bunch of water wisps. BOM:S - OotA - 18.1 - Winning the unwinnable [Draft] Book of Mors: Summoned Arc:Out of the Ashes Chapter 18,Part 1: Winning the unwinnable **************************** "So how do we take him?" asked a petite, doll-like figure standing on the outer edge of the arena''s centre, her sharp features and huge, oval eyes giving a haunting, creepy appearance and displaying how her species got their name. After using his scaled fist to smother a yawn, a two-meter tall dragonkin folded his arms, the golden scales on his long, tooth-filled snout, glistening in the blazing sunlight. "D or B?" "D of course," yelled the haunt as she rolled her eyes, throwing her white arms up in the air in exasperation. "Are you really that bored Drake? We have never faced one of these, and from the arena''s display, it looks pretty powerful. Also, why would I bother worrying about a regular bear-" The haunt''s words were cut off by Drake''s penetrating glare, the emotion and focus reflected in his eyes, a stark contrast to his outwards appearance. "Don''t. You are going to ruin this. He isn''t normal. My senses are in overdrive and we know nothing about him. It''s like when I was facing my kind." "What?" roared a nervous looking Kitsune standing behind them, his four tails slightly quivering as his soft, white fur stood on end. "I thought you were the only one that had left the Peaks? Jade and I can''t face a Dragonkin; we are only support classes; we will get slaughtered." "What are you so nervous about, Yama? I only said like," chuckled Drake, trying to change the subject as his eyes casually scanned their surroundings, always weary of the enormous bearkin in chainmail watching them from the centre. "You''re a fox type species in the middle of Huntsmen HQ. All you need is to hide your tails or dye your fur a different colour, and you would be dead before you could soil your underwear, and you are fretting over a tournament where lethal force isn''t allowed. Anyway, what are you worried about, you have me here?" The bearkin, who had been waiting for the trio to attack, let out a deep, guttural sigh. "Leave enough for me to get a good stomping in. I have a lady''s request to honour. I think it''s the least you can do after I have let you set up this little charade and use me as a distraction so you can bait the demon into ambushing you." A strong gust of wind kicked up the arena''s sand as a grating sound interrupted the conversation as something slide to a halt to the groups left. "Tsk, you did that to warn him didn''t you?" growled Drake, grinding his teeth. The bearkin only smiled. "Wheres the fun in watching a one-sided fight." Turning in the same direction as his companions, who were already wielding their simple looking staffs and in a combat stance, Drake flexed his fists causing his claws to clink together before pointing at the arena''s display. "Seem''s like you''re not as aggressive, nor reckless, as I anticipated. This is the first time you stopped moving since the beginning, Demon." A lone eagle''s screech resonated high above them as the dust slowly cleared, revealing a small, cloaked figure standing no more than twenty meters away, his face completely concealed by his heavy mantle. "Aren''t you hot in that? Why not reveal your face and tell us your name. Prove the stories wrong about your race having no honour or respect?" laughed Drake, his hands absentmindedly playing with the duel swords at his waist as his leather armour creaked. The figure remained motionless as if a statue frozen in time. "I don''t like this," whimpered Jade, her azure eyes glowing vividly. "His stats all register as D/E rank, and he appears to be a Darkness/Fire type which is not a good match for this environment. His control over mana is too weak to effect us directly, but he should be able to manipulate himself and the environment. There is no way he is this weak. Something is wrong."The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. "D-Rank?" exclaimed Yama. "He''s pathetic! How could he beat the others? From the briefing yesterday, everyone''s stats should be around C and with skills, hitting B." Drake''s expression has been slowly changing as he and the robbed figure stared at each other. The two, who had started to question if the boy in front of them had some sort of ability to hinder seer abilities or increase his own, eventually noticed Drakes frown and fell quiet, ready to react at a moment''s notice. "Who are you," snarled the Dragonkin, all trace of humour gone. "Or, more importantly, what are you? You smell similar to that Demon who lead us here but... also like my own kind. What dealings do you have with Dragons?" The silence continued to bear down on the group, almost becoming unbearable as the lone figure continued to stand motionless, his cloak rustling in the gentle breeze. After a few minutes, the tension was too much for Yama, and he was about to start an attack but was stopped when Drakes, deep, booming laugh echoed outwards. "I guess I shouldn''t jump to conclusions. You''re too weak to be from the council, and although your speed and skill are outstanding, your body doesn''t have the strength to go against me, no matter what secret skills or abilities you have." A light, childish chuckle emanated from the dark hood as Mors'' hands slowly rose towards his mantle. "You''re right; this is a fight that I cannot win in my current state." As the mantle fell away and was wrapped into a ball, Mors'' red, reptilian eyes locked onto the almost identical golden ones of Drake. Drakes mouth hung open for a few moments as he gasped in surprise before revealing a toothy grin that would send even the bravest of children screaming in fear."You are a dragon descendant. How? This is awesome! I thought I was the only one outside the Peaks." The tension seemed to evaporate as Drake took a step forward, intending to introduce himself to his new-found brother, deciding to ignore the triviality, at least to him, of Mors'' demonic heritage. By this time, Mors had finished wrapping his cloak and mantle into a ball and, as if the devil himself had got everything he had ever wished for, revealed his own, terrifying smile. "But this isn''t a fight." The ferocious, unyielding smile caused Jade and Yama to flinch and subconsciously take a step backwards. Even Drake, who''s dragon''s heritage provided him with a great deal of resistance to fear, was stopped in his tracks and reach for his swords as a small, icy shiver run down his spine. "Brother, there is no reason for us to fight here. Us male dragons need to stick toge-" Mors'' hand shot upwards and the tightly bundled cloak flew into the air, unfurling and casting a large shadow over the group as his eyes hardened, losing all hint of playfullness. "Too long has the darkness feared the light." The crowd held their breaths as the trio tensed, awaiting an attack that never came. As the cloak slowly fell to the floor. Most Spectators and Competitors alike shared a look of confusion, wondering what was meant to happen but there were also a few that displayed looks of disappointment. The worst affected was the Huntsmen''s Captian, who apart from destroying the arms of her chair with her iron-like grip, was now muttering profanities and dark, bone-chilling promises about what awaited Mors for cheating her out of an epic, once in a lifetime fight. Extremely irritated, Drake tried to keep his composure, counting the grains of sand under his bare feet as he glared at Mors. "I have heard about how imps are so weak they have to rely on mind games and tricks to survive. I guess I am stupid for expecting more, even if we do share a noble heritage." Drake''s feet dragged across the sand as he got into an aggressive stance ready to attack but once again halted as Mors slowly raised his hand. In an overly dramatic fashion, acompanied by a smug, ridiculing grin, Mors clicked his fingers. The sound echoed outwards, and when it reached the trio, a shattering noise eminated from the location where their tokens were stored. Shocked, Drake looked down to see a small wisp of black smoke evaporating from his shattered token and nearly snapped a tooth in anger as his jaw clenched. "Oh... We really are the same. Time to take off the training wings." Drake released a tyrannical roar as his body seemed to turn to light and speed towards Mors, almost invisible to the naked eye. *BOOOM* A mysterious explosion shook the arena, kicking up a huge plume of dust and causing the protective barrier to become visible momentarily as it vibrated. With a wave of her hand, Verz dispersed the dust, and, still clearly annoyed about the outcome, her voice made everyone feel as if they were being crushed beneath a mountain. "You are eliminated, leave with dignity, Dragonkin." Black shadows flickered and, before most could even blink, the trio were gone. "You''re as cowardly as the rumours say," spat last year''s champion, the bearkin as he walked forward. "I guess it is true that your running away got our CO killed, not that I care really. I have my own reason''s for making you suffer." Cracking his knuckles, the bearkin stomped forward. "This is going to earn me some brownie points for sure." Mors, squinting in the bright sunlight, could only shake his head. "Are you sure you can afford the price?" BOM:S - OotA - 18.2 - Pushed into a corner [Draft] Book of Mors: Summoned Arc:Out of the Ashes Chapter 18,Part 2:Pushed into a corner **************************** "Are you sure you can afford the price?" Mors watched the bearkin flexing his muscles, tapping his weapon that looked very similar, if a little more vicious, to a Japanese Kanabou, on the sandy ground. Shaking his head and releasing a sigh, Mors sized up his opponent and considered his options. "Seems like my luck''s run out. Yogi Bear has the home advantage..." Mors couldn''t bring himself to say that Bruce appeared to be stronger than him, his pride wouldn''t allow it. Bruce was standing in the centre of the arena, bathed in blistering sunlight, smirking as if he had already won, mistaking Mors hesitating as fear. "Whats wrong? Afraid of getting a little tan or are you nothing without that shadow ability? Wait, maybe you''re actually smart enough to realise your speed and strength are nothing impressive and that all it would take a single hit from me to break every bone in your body?" The crowd had once again gone silent, everyone straining their senses to try and hear the conversation. "Nope, just wondering if your retardedness is contagious? Or that terrible smell? I could add looking like a furry turd, but I am pretty sure that''s just me being silly. It''s obviously genetic and a gift from your parents. You know, the ones that were related before they bumped furry turd uglies in whatever cesspool you crawled from?" replied Mors, his draconic eyes locking onto Bruce, causing the bearkin to repress a small shudder, whether in fear or rage only he could tell. Bruce''s smile rapidly disappeared, replaced with a menacing glare. "You''re as uncivilised as they say. Don''t you know that to insult someone''s ancestors is cowardly, but then again, you are a filthy dem-" "Ummm, you know that technically you''re about to contradicted yourself. By slandering me as a demon, you are insulting my ancestry and," Mors put on a mocking, deep voice, impersonating Bruce, "Don''t you know, when insulting ancestors, you''re nothing but a coward... said the coward." To a stranger, it would appear as if Mors was acting like an obnoxious child but in reality, he was only trading insults to buy some thinking time. That''s not to say insulting someone was below him, it''s just that in a fight, he preferred to let his actions do the talking, especially when he had a good chance of winning. Bruce was visibly irritated, but he did not move from his position. "I know you''re just trying to get me closer to the walls so you can use their shadows." "Tsk," mockingly replied Mors, "Clever girl." The words had just passed Mors'' lips, but even to the untrained eye, it was obvious that Bruce had been attempting to lure Mors into a false sense of security. Mors view suddenly tilted as he felt his feet being lifted off the floor. He had seen Bruce get covered in a red glow before moving at an incredible speed. The red light reminded Mors of the skill the trolls used and wondered, if briefly if it was some sort of body strengthing magic. Even though it was a struggle, Mors'' eyes had managed to track Bruce as he launched his attack, but his body was too slow to react, giving him no time to block. Using his free hand, the one not holding his weapon, Bruce grabbed Mors by his head and flung him into the nearest wall, creating a large hole and slightly burying the demon in the rubble. "Hmm, you mentioned there being a price? Seeing as its free, why not? Let''s end this pointless name-calling and start the demon stomping buffet," laughed Bruce as he walked over and grabbed Mors'' arm, sticking out of the rubble and threw him towards the centre of the arena. Looking at Mors, who was lying in a crumpled heap, a mocking grin appeared on Bruce''s face. "I know recruits are weak as fuck and never has a previous year''s champion been defeated, but this is just a joke." "Look at yourself. You''re already at death''s door, and all I have done if give you a little push. Tell you what, bow down in front of me and shatter your token and, if I feel you are sincere enough, I''ll let you go. Always wanted to beat a pri-," Bruce''s words stopped as he remembered where he was. ", demon." Standing shakily, Mors frowned as he stared at his arm which looked, at best, dislocated, worst completely broken. The pain surged through his body like electricity and blood slowly dripped from his mouth, hissing violently as it came into contact with the floor. "Smarter than the average bear." Realising Mors was not about to give up, Bruce had to stop himself from releasing a feral growl. "Is this it? Is this the mighty demon who our Captain has chosen as her first disciple?" Bruce''s conceited look warped into one of disgust before raising his fist into the air, causing the sand beneath his feet to swirl, and rise into the air. As if he had practised the move a thousand times, Bruce plunged his first downward, and with an almighty boom, the ground shook and cracked, rippling outwards.The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. Within seconds the shaking had stopped, but the walls surrounding them had been reduced to rubble. "Oh look, no shadows. What are you going to do now? That''s the thing with secondary elements like light or darkness; they have a huge weakness. The primary elements like my earth, on the other hand, well, let''s just say they are better." Mors'' face, which had been an almost emotionless mask, apart from when he was mocking Bruce, cramped before turning into a maddened, terrifying smile, revealing his sharp, serrated teeth as his eyes started glowing. "When you surround the enemy, always allow them an escape route. They must see that there is an alternative to death." Mors couldn''t help but chuckle at the vague quote he had no recollection of gaining. The bearkin had made this easy for him, win or die, kill or be killed. Even though the rules should protect him, thinking like that was making him weak. Feeling that his restraint was slipping, Mors tried to calm himself down. He had purposefully not used anything that might give anyone watching, huntsmen or otherwise, information on his skills and abilities and, except for his brief confrontation with Drake, which he didn''t feel he could win any other way, his plan had been pretty successful. If he gave in now, all his efforts would be for nought and that irritated him almost as much as Bruce, who had... Realisation struck Mors like a thunderbolt. His objective, apart from winning the tournament while keeping a lowish profile, had already been lost. Mors'' glare intensified. The reason Bruce wasn''t finishing the fight, wasn''t to publically humiliate him, at least not as a primary focus, but to reveal as many of his weakness and goad him into revealing his abilities in front of everyone here. He had even shown them how to negate his shadow step, his strongest ability and, to make matters worse, he almost revealed, and stopped in a very blatant way, that he was a pride demon, something he should have no knowledge of. "Ahh, shit looks like he is losing it," laughed Verz, apparently not as disappointed or worried as her words seemed. "Still, I think after this, me and Bruce are going to have a very long ''chat''." Kelora finally smiled, her stone mask slipping. "Thank the Gods, for a moment there I thought he lost what made him almost bearable and I was going to have to put him out of his misery." Rock chuckled. "You demons, you want everyone to believe your cold-blooded killer''s when-" Gulping, Rock held his hands up in surrender as Kelora''s glare bore into him. "Hey, it''s a compliment. We all know you demons look out for each other when the chips are down." Velcea laughed, "Demons are all death and destruction with each other until they are picked on by another species and then, BOOM, demonic horde destroying everything in its wake. Quite romantic actually." Kelora continued to glare as she sunk in her chair, refusing to be baited into a confrontation that she could not win. Back in the arena, Bruce had not noticed the change in Mors and was busy lecturing him about how the Defense Core, the Huntsman unit he belonged to, and how were superior to the rest. "It''s the job of the Defence force to analyse and prepare the battlefield. Barbarians like you that only know how to run around and scratch and bite, don''t stand a chance. Once you remove the element of surpri..." Mors had stopped listening some time ago. His instincts were screaming for blood, egged on by his mind, who had somehow decided there was a possible link between Bruce and the Sun Clan and this was all a ploy to eliminate him. Generally, his bloodlines, even if they instinctually wanted the same outcome, desired different means. Even when he was training in the forest, he found that half of him wanted to stalk his prey, make them feel unimaginable terror before slowly ending their lives, watching the light fade from their eyes while the other half wanted to challenge them directly, first crushing their spirit and showing them how useless their struggles were before moving onto their bodies. He also felt something else, but that was only interested in the outcome, to become stronger, and ignored the means leaving the other two to battle it out. Thinking about it, Mors noticed that strange feeling tugging on his soul again, the one that was so similar, yet worlds apart, from the connection to the twins and reminded him that he needed to find out what that was, after the fight of course. Slowly, Mors raised his head and looked directly up into the sky, as if searching for something. He had been practising self-restraint during his training, but the temptation to brutally rip Bruce apart was becoming unbearable. Black smoke started seeping from his leather armour, barely noticeable in the blazing sun but more than enough for most of the eagle-eyed huntsmen. The silence was shattered as quiet mumbling broke out, as well as the hasty, last-minute wager. Bruce laughed, thinking that the change in the crowd was down to him, and span, his large, club-like weapon pointing outwards as if he was addressing the spectators. "Enough posturing for the crowd, they are getting restless and want to see a fight. Let''s get on with your public humiliation." Bruce returned to face Mors, "Now, how am I going to make you beg for mercy and shatter your own toke-" Bruce''s words caught in his throat as he his gaze returned to Mors, whose outline was faintly blurred by the smoke. After a few seconds, Mors casually flung out his crippled arm. Verz, who had been excitedly watching this entire time tensed and abruptly stood up. "Kelora, the moment Bruce surrenders, stop Mors." "Huh?" Kelora was caught off guard, "What''s he going to do to Bruce? There is just too much difference in strength between them? Worst case, Bruce is going to shit himself due to the brats aur-" "Kelora," said Verz in a voice that would cause a dragon to shrink back in terror, "You are to stop him killing Bruce without antagonising him in any way. Do you understand?" Kelora''s figure vanished, not daring to utter another word as the rest of Verz''s party stood, ready to move at a moments notice. Verz ignored them and turned back to the fight. "Sorry little demon. I hate to steal your prey but this isn''t the time or place." Her eyes sparkled menacingly, a plan starting to formulate. "But that''s not to say the hunts over." Jaw-clenching cracks echoed around the arena as Mors'' arm, unnaturally, snapped back into shape and the darkness solidified, creating a pliable cast, though, to others, it appeared to be something akin to demonic armour. Mors'' gaze fell from the sky and his eyes locked onto Bruce, but these weren''t the eyes that had caused the bearkin to feel a slight chill earlier. Though no significant physical changes had occurred, Bruce''s entire body went ridged as his heart hammered in his chest. "Hah, you think your aura has me scared?" shouted Bruce, trying to disguise the fear that gnawed deep in his gut, thankful that his fur and armour was hiding the copious amount of sweat running down his back. "Aura?" asked Mors in an almost confused voice, the maddened smile not even faltering "I haven''t even released it yet." BOM:S - OotA - 18.3 - Awakening [Draft] Book of Mors: Summoned Arc:Out of the Ashes Chapter 18,Part 3:Awakening **************************** The transparent, protective barrier that surrounded the arena suddenly turned black, followed by terrified screams from within. The shocked spectators stood confused, wondering what was going on as they could no longer see the arena floor or the large cracks running the length of the dome, something that even if they were able to see it, they wouldn''t believe it possible. Verz was still standing, but instead of looking surprised, she just shook her head as she looked at a status plate she had pulled from her sleeve. "Looks like his auras are feeding off each other. Rock, if things get nasty... sit on him." Without waiting for another word, Rock leapt over the balcony and slammed into the sand floor, Kelora appearing next to him. "Never a peaceful moment with him around is there." Without responding she walked through the barrier and disappeared, causing Rock to sigh before following her. "Aww, I didn''t even get to place a bet." The crowd initially shocked into silence, exploded in a roar of shouts and arguments, especially from the guests, as they tried to work out what had happened and how much power would be needed to make a magical barrier opaque. Wild speculation about what was going on inside, each idea more wild and extravagant than the last, rippled across the crowd. The clamour continued to grow as, one by one, the remaining competitors were shown to be eliminated on the arena''s display, and the barrier rippled as huntsmen retrieved them. Little did they know it was the competitors, at least those that had not fainted, that had destroyed their own tokens, and attributed it to a brutal battle, forgetting that the barrier did not block sounds, in their excitement. Soon only three contestants remained, Mors Letus, Bruce Darkwood and Ryen Neva, though not many people had noticed or even knew who Ryen was but suddenly, the idea that she had helped the demon boy, who when they last saw was losing, and ganging up on last year''s champion became all but fact, even for some of the Huntsmen. Standing in complete darkness, Bruce''s panicked breaths echoed outwards as he stared into the glowing red orbs, a faint red mist seeping from them, that were Mor''s eyes. "Wa...What are you?" stammered the terrified Bearkin on the verge of panic, however instead of receiving a reply, the eyes slowly closed before completely vanishing into the darkness. Like most things, the thought and anticipation of something is often, a multitude worst than the actual trigger, and Mors was playing on this, leaving Bruce''s fear addled mind to come up with the worst possible scenarios. All he need to do was provide some triggers and the bearkin would destroy himself. "What am I?" whispered a haunting voice, from just behind Bruce. Bruce span, sweeping his heavy weapon in a horizontal arc, hitting nothing, his haste and power invested into the swing, sending him off balance. "You know, a lot of people ask me that." whispered the voice, it''s breath tickling his left ear, causing Bruce to spin and slammed the weapon into the floor. "None of them like the answer." A dark chuckle resonated from all directions around the bearkin, causing him to flinch, dropping his weapon as he pointlessly took a few steps back. "Fight with honour," screamed Bruce, his voice breaking into a high pitch. "Show yourself." With a chilling crack, Bruce topped forward and screamed, his kneecap, hit in its weakest spot, shattering. "Why?" said Mors, the sound of his voice making it obvious that he was enjoying himself. "It''s not like anyone is going to witness your last moments anyway." Bruce attempted to shift some of the weight he had put on his shattered knee, but before he could, he released another wail and clutched his shoulder. Warm liquid soaked into the cloth under the armour as the metallic smell of blood filled his nostrils; adding to his panic. A slight nudge and Bruce tumbled onto his back, his eyes darting around, trying to find his attacker as he sobbed and let out a mournfulwhisper. "It''s not meant to be like this. I am the son of the Bearkin Cheif; I am a noble." Although Bruce was considered strong for his age, his heritage and year worth of training from the Huntsmen were the reason, not any special innate talent and thus, he was woefully unprepared. He was still only a teenage boy, without any real combat experience. Though he understood that the world could be a brutal, violent place, this level of psychological warfare was too much for him, rendering his defences almost useless. But most importantly, in his terror, Bruce he had forgotten that he could shatter his token and lay there almost paralysed, his mind starting to shut down. "What. The Fuck. Is This. FIGHT ME!" Roared Mors as if Bruce had mortally offended him, increasing his aura''s pressure. "You are meant to be strong. A challenge. Somebody worthy of killing. Not a snivelling cub that has given up on life." Mors'' instincts and desire had awakened to the challenge, but there was none. There was nothing left for him to direct his rage. Bruce had even stopped responding to the wounds Mors inflicted on his body, only letting out small, inconsistent whimpers. Mors'' eyes abruptly opened above the bearkin as he slammed his foot onto his chest, snapping Bruce from his daze. "Pathetic. Totally, utterly, pathetic."If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. Mors had released all the restraints and limitations he had put on himself during his training, and in this almost perfect environment, where no natural light could enter and Bruce had unintentionally cleared all of the obstacles, he was virtually unstoppable, at least for someone of Bruce''s level. Not that Mors was thinking about any of this. His draconic heritage was feeding off his emotions, increasing his power and bloodlust but these emotions were being fueled by the enviroment, by the terror and fear absorbed by his demonic side, around him, trapping him in an ever increasing spiral, one where his power increased exponetionally, at the cost of reason. "MORS!" bellowed Kelora as an orange glow appeared from one of the walls in the distance. The demoness was holding two fireballs in her hand as a means of illumination, her appealing figure, with horns and tail, painting chilling spectacle with her shadow. Normally the dark would be nothing to the higher level Huntsmen, but due to the barrier, there was not even a trace amount of light, and their eyes were all but useless. Even their keen senses, which should have made it possible to navigate through the void were worthless, mainly due to Mors'' aura. Even though Kelora was a demoness, having lots of resistance to fear and terror inducing effects, her back was drenched, and she had the strong impulse to flee. Each step she took towards the centre of the arena, harder than the last. As she walked forward, her eyes scanning her surroundings, Rock followed silently, which was an incredible feat due to his massive frame. There was no hint of his playful smile or the gambling elemental, but only the countenance of a warrior who was solely focused on battle. Typically they would not approach a situation like this, making their presence apparent, but with their senses impaired and the order not to antagonise Mors, which meant no sneak attacks unless he was about to kill Bruce, they were forced to take things slowly. It wasn''t long, or hard due to the ragged breaths of a terrified bearkin, that the flames illuminated the cowering Bruce with Mors, a single foot pinning the much larger boy to the ground. Both Kelora and Rock took a sharp intake of air. It wasn''t the fact that Bruce was in a terrible state that shocked them, it was Mors'' appearance. Even though he should have been illuminated by Kelora''s flame, the shadows flickered across his body, completely masking it, the only sign that this was Mors and not some Wrath returned from the grave, was his distinctive, draconic eyes. Bruce''s imagination had gone wild, but when he saw the dark silhouette above him, all he could think was that the Goddess of Darkness, sister to Death had decided to harvest his soul. Saying that Mors looked feminine would not go down well in the best of cases, but currently, where Mors was teetering on the edge of completely losing control, Bruce was lucky he was too terrified to even speak. However, when Mors'' gaze returned to Bruce, the trauma was too much and, after noisily emptying his bowels, the bearkin fainted, further enraging the unstable demon. "Mors?" Asked Kelora, flames pooling in her hands, ready to attack and push him away from Bruce. "It''s over, you''ve won. Calm down." A bone tingling growl, somewhat familiar, caused her hair to stand on end, her demonic instincts screaming at her to submit or flee, finally having a glimpse of what Ryen had felt back in the Ice Citadel. "No wonder the kid submitted. This is the presence of a stage three demon, not an imp." "Snap out of it, you damn brat before I break your neck," roared the demoness, infuriated that she felt like she was inferior and had to submit to the demon in front of her. "Back off." Mors'' chilling voice echoed around them as a flicker of purple flicked across his eyes. "Or this is not going to end well for you." Rock had moved to the side, vanishing into the darkness in an attempt to circle Mors, halting when he saw Kelora flinch as she resisted backing away. It was not that he wasn''t affected by the aura, but Kelora, being a demon, was much more sensitive to this kind of thing. Seeing her hesitation, something that had only happened once before, he knew that something was wrong and decided to take Mors down. Using every ounce of willpower she had, Kelora refused to move, as her brain tried to make sense of what she had just seen. Demons had many different coloured eyes, but one colour was reserved for the elite, demon royalty, the Lords. Beings that could ensnare and force into servitude even the most cunning of their kind. Telling herself she had seen an illusion, Kelora continued to study Mors'' eyes, inwardly praying that she would not have the terrible luck to bump into one more than once in her lifetime. Outside, Verz ignored the roar of the crowd as a scruffy looking messenger, slid to a halt beside her and knelt down, his leather armour torn and displaying signs of combat. "Captain, a message from Eastern HQ." Verz took the letter and broke the magical seal before reading it and letting out an annoyed sigh. "I told them this would happen if they didn''t keep the monster population under control. Fucking idiots wouldn''t be able to organise their way out of a nursery school." "The Mystic Republics started gathering troops on the border due to ''monster raids''?" said Velcea, though it seemed she didn''t really care about the answer. "When do we leave?" Looking at the messenger, Verz''s attitude shifted to that of a battle-hardened commander. "Rally the 1st to 8th divisions and the pathfinders. We leave in four days time. All leave is cancelled and as each unit returns, excluding those in current operations or training the new recruits, are to be sent to the Eastern HQ. In the event of a war, we are to instantiate a scorched earth policy. There is no way we can hold off the legions in open conflict, but we can make them bleed so bad that by the time the main army arrives, they will be little more than corpses." Slamming his first to his chest, the messenger stood up and run down the stone stairs behind them. Even though she wore a mask, it was clear Verz was frowning. "Seems like we are going on a little hunting trip." "Or a full-blown war." Velcea picked some dried blood from one of her nails. "What about the demon?" Verz shrugged and wiped away a strand of her silver hair that had fallen over her mask. "Not sure yet. Let''s see what happens." With a nod of her head, to the huntsmen who announced the rules, the barrier began to crumble from the top, and Mors'' terrifying aura escaped. Some of the guests fainted while most fell to their knees. The Huntsmen, however, nervously fidgeted their hands resting on their weapons. They had been warned about the demon''s aura but had not expected it to be so powerful. Verz nodded her head in approval, thinking that at least one of her men might have taken a step back or lost themselves for a moment and was pleasantly surprised they hadn''t. "Seems like the training in the Dead Swamps wasn''t a complete waste of time." Just as the barrier was around one-third of the way gone, the terrifying aura stopped, returning the barrier completely transparent, making it vanish from sight. What the huntsmen, and those guests who had not become a mumbling mess, saw stunned them. Kelora was on one knee, dripping blood from a nasty looking split lip, her mask shattered into pieces and spread across the floor while Rock was digging himself out of a wall towards the outer ring. Velcea looked at Verz, noticing her change in attitude, and sighed. "He really needs to stop impressing her so much, for his own sake as much as mine." In the centre of the arena, standing upon what most assumed to be the corpse of a badly mangled Bruce, stood Mors, the right side of his leather armour steaming, burn marks littering its surface. The sudden sunlight had weakened his abilities, enabling him to regain control and, after looking around at the stunned faces, purposefully ignoring Kelora''s glare he found his anger subsiding. Feeling drained, he couldn''t help but smile, refusing to utter the words he was thinking incase he jinxed himself. Feeling drained, he couldn''t help but smile,feeling as if something had changed inside of him. "Look out Acoria, here I come." NAC - End of Segment One Hey Guys and Gals, First of all, I wanted to say thanks for reading and that the actual chapter (18.3) was released, however long it took me to write this, ago. So if you haven''t read it. I suggest you do first things will make more sense. So, I have finally reached the end of my intro (yes I said intro). The previous chapters were originallysupposed to be 5-6 chapters long, only setting up the background for the ''main'' part and giving some answers/hints to some of the bits missed in the original. Well, that plan kinda went to pot and ended up being 353ish pages but I really hope you have enjoyed so far. Due to the increase in volume, I am concerned that the next sections planned could bloat and so have decided to put what happens next to a poll. I plan to do them all eventually, especially as I can re-order chapters now, but also I want to get back to where The Summoned left off, It wasn''t far from the end of book one and as I have 6 books planned, I want to get moving before I die of old age . Note, School/Personality arcs are just more story setting/info chapters with a smidgen of conflict, explaining and highlighting things that will be referenced and talked about in a natural fashionin the main story arcs.This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. Option 1: (Main story arcs) A small time skip (6~12 months) occurs in which Mors has been fighting on the Eastern front with Verz and the Huntsmen. We meeting him again as he is returning where the event that triggers his first evolution occurs. This is pretty much just before Chapter 8 Flatner, from (The Summoned) Starts (I will release up to that chapter today in case anyone is wondering about the reference). Option 2: (School/Learning arc -> Main story Arcs) Mors trains with the Huntsmencadets for four weeks before being sent to the eastern front (time skip). Here we learn more about Acoria, magic and Mors relationship with key figures, (the twins, Bruce, Drake, etc) as well as background info on Verz''s team. (Mors also discovers his love for dogs... well wolfs.) Option 3: (Personality(War) Arc) After brief training with the Huntsmen (time-skipped), Mors joins Verz on her missions and discovered how dark and twisted the hidden side of Accoria is. The traumatic experiences, for regular beings at least, awakening memories in Mors that causes him to isolate himself from everyone but Verz and her party. During their missions, Verz and Mors become closer, earning him the nickname, the Bloodhound''s pup. Option 4: (School/learning arc -> Personality Arc -> Main Story Arcs) All of the above. If you don''t want to vote or think they are all equally terrible, please let me know in the comments Author out. BOM:S - KIP - 19.1 - Aftermath [Draft] Book of Mors: Summoned Arc:Knowledge is Power Chapter 19,Part 1:Aftermath **************************** Mors'' grin disappeared as he let out a lazy, sleep deprived yawn. Removing his foot from Bruce''s chest, enabling the bearkin to take an unconscious breath, Mors glanced at the arena''s board, noticing that he was the last competitor. "But in the end, I will be, the last man standing." Mors chuckled at the unknown, yet familiar, song that resonated in his head, not realising if he had looked at the board moments earlier, he would have seenthat he wasn''t the only competitor left. Letting out a deep breath as his body relaxed, Mors'' skin prickled causing him to turn and see Verz, staring at him intently. Her eyes were sparking and, although he had not known her long, he was aware that it was a bad sign. "So much for being low-key. Still, I got to have some fun and let off some steam." There was no clapping of cheers from the crowd, giving the stadium an eerie feeling, especially as the terrifying aura had scared the surrounding area into silence. Most of the spectators were embroiled in quiet, almost silent, debates or helping their companions that had fainted. The quiet suited Mors perfectly. The lack of sleep, losing control, and then the sudden loss of power when the barrier collapsed had completely drained him, leaving him with a crippling headache. Deciding that the first course of action would be to find somewhere comfy to sleep, preferably high and well hidden, Mors started to walk towards the arena exit. As he walked, Mors stumbled on the rubble that was once a wall. "And the winner is... a small pebble!" Mors shook his head, thinking about how pitiful it would be if he tripped and knocked himself out. "Not this time Mors. No passing out, Not getting carried off like a pansy. No near death experiences with the creepy ghost... things. Just walk out, find somewhere to sleep, rinse and repeat." Mors abruptly stops as a hand landed on his shoulder, the weight almost causing his knees to buckle. "Brat, I think we need to have a little chat. Follow me." "Bah, guess it was stupid to think I was going to get away with that cheap shot," thought Mors, a smile creeping onto his lips. "Still, totally worth it. Bitch demoness - 58ish, Mors - 1... for now. It''s not like I am keeping score." Kelora walked past Mors and then, realising she wasn''t being followed, she turned around, revealing a wicked grin as she placed a hand on her hip. "Don''t play hard to get with a demoness. It never ends well." Mors shuddered, not because of her smile or the suggestive thoughts that came with her seductive voice, but due to her eyes. Opposite to her countenance, Kelora''s eyes seemed, at least to Mors, full of genuine concern which startled the young demon. Murderous intent, hatred, contempt, fear, Mors could deal with, but now she was looking at him with concern, he didn''t know how to respond. Thankfully for him, he didn''t need to. "BRUCE!" A high pitched screeched tore Mors from his stupor as he turned to see a lamia, her red scaled lower half glistening slightly in the sunlight, curling over Bruces'' body. Her red hair was tied back in a braid, displaying her pointy ears as tears streamed down her face, causing Mors to roll his eyes. "He''s unconscious, not dead." She was quickly pushed off as two huntsmen, silver bands on their right arms, appeared next to Bruce and started checking his vitals. After an initial check, the two huntsmen sagged in relief. "Few minor injuries and broken bones. Passed out and... soiled himself. Two to three weeks recovery time."Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. Mors swore he could hear a snigger from the other huntsmen and judging from the scornful glare the man got from the lamia; he hadn''t misheard. Relieved that Bruce was OK, even if he had disgraced himself, the Lamia raised herself on her tail and released a death glare at Mors. Weirdly, it made him feel much better, at least compared to the look he received from Kelora. "You did this?" hissed the girl, small flames flickering over her hands. "Ummm," Mors was at a loss. "No shit Sherlock. Of course, I did this. Were you dropped when you were an egg or are you just blind?" A look of confusion passed over everyone''s face, including Mors, who had no idea what a Sherlock was or why he had to launch into insult mode immediately. He just wanted to get some sleep, not start round two. "Meh, I know there are no stupid questions, but that one was taking the biscuit." Mors'' stomach rumbled, reminding him he was famished not just tired. As Mors was about to turn away, he realised that even if he wasn''t looking, he could tell exactly where the lamia was and roughly, what she felt. Frowning, he studied the girl''s face, scarlet with rage, before everything started to come together. "You''re Ethm-" "Do. Not. Speak. Her. Name," roared the lamia, her face almost as red as her scales. Mors could not finish his sentence, his lazy expression immediately turning to one of hostility. "Damn, is this the power of that bond, contract thing? Not even able to say that name. Time to leave before I have to break my vow and get me some snakeskin boots." Mors hesitated a moment. "Scrap that, the thought is actually quiet repulsive." "First you kill our mom, then you cowardly ambush my boyfriend in that black dome of your''s and make him disgrace himself! Are you out to ruin my life? You son of a slime." The lamia looked like she was ready for a fight. "I''m pretty sure he was the one that shit himself and, nope, I don''t even know who you are, and after this, I doubt I will remember so don''t bother telling me your name." Mors'' eye twitched as he realised he was just making things worse for himself. "Not everything is about you princess. Look after your hairball of a boyfriend before he gets turned into a rug and forget we ever met." "For the love of God Mors!, why can''t you keep your mouth shut," thought Mors as he turned around, deciding that he was just making things worse. "I need to find out more about these contracts before I put my foot in the deep end. At least it seems like she doesn''t know about it." Mors glanced towards where Verz was previously and noticed she was gone. "Well, at least one pain is missing." His thoughts were short lived as he spotted Kelora still waiting, with what seemed to be a look of irritation. "Don''t you have kittens to drown or something demonic to do?" Kelora frowned, "I have no idea where you keep getting these preconceptions from? Why would I drown a kitten?" As Mors past her, she moved to walked beside him before speaking in little more than a whisper. "Don''t tell the beastkin this, but kittens do taste pretty good." Mors couldn''t help but chuckle. For some reason, his common sense on things, the bits of information he just somehow had, were often wrong but at the same time, not too far from the truth. "So," said Mors in a tired tone. "What''s with the change in attitude? Discovered how awesome I am and trying to win my favour?" "Not in the slightest," laughed Kelora, which once again putting Mors on guard, expecting some sort of severe retaliation and not a lighthearted laugh. "Let''s just say that you have earned some respect for that fluke of a hit you got in and sending for that lump of stone flying. Unlike the stories people like to tell, demons aren''t sore losers and once we feel someone is worthy, we aren''t that bad to be around." She tilted her head as she looked at Mors, her smile growing "Well, the one''s without the sin of wrath and pride anyway." "Jealous?" Mors spoke before he could even think. "Am I not happy until I am beaten to a bloody pulp?" Kelora laughed, which would have been somewhat enticing if she hadn''t beaten Mors unconscious on numerous occasions. "Hell no. You''re like a walking time bomb that can be triggered by pretty much anything. You''re just fun to watch. It''s like watching a mouse take on a tiger and by some miracle, survive." Instead of getting irritated, Mors only felt a little depressed. "Tell me about it. It''s like I am bloody cursed." Kelora''s smile vanished as her fist slammed into Mors, stomach, making him take a few steps back. "Don''t ruin the mood. Damn, you were finally starting to act like a real demon and then you had to get all mopy." After staggering back a few steps, Mors straightened, a murderous glint in his eye. "Oh, I am sure I could level out your swollen face somewhat, maybe even knock a few teeth out to complete the look." Kelora shrugged and turned around before disappearing into the arena''s tunnel. "Much better. Least I know there is some bite behind that bark." While this had been going on, the red lamia continued to glare at the back of Mors'' head, muttering under her breath until he disappeared into the exit tunnel. Turning around and returning to Bruce''s side. Watching the medics patch him up enough to move to the infirmary, her fists tightened. "I won''t forget this, Mors Letus. I will make you pay." BOM:S - KIP - 19.2 - Politics [Draft] Book of Mors: Summoned Arc:Knowledge is Power Chapter 19,Part 2:Politics **************************** After passing through the maze that was the innards of the arena in silence, Mors followed Kelora out of a small, concealed exit and into a bustling city street. The sights and sound hit Mors like a brick wall, causing him to wince, his heightened senses momentarily working against him. Kelora noticed his reaction and, with a smirk, pointed at a shimmering rune next to the door they just exited. "I suggest you read up about military magic wards in your spare time. This city, like most on the continent, is littered with them. That one is for noise cancellation. The one I had disabled before we exited was a self-destruct variant. Would have turned you into a lovely red paste." Shaking his head in an attempt to focus, earning a laugh from Kelora, Mors surveyed his surroundings. On the way to the arena, Mors had walked these very streets, only seeing small groups of Huntsmen or individuals moving about with purpose but now, hundreds, if not thousands of heavily armoured men and women were marching past him on the left side of the street. Their black cloaks and white masks creating a haunting, yet captivating scene. Most of them were marching on the left side of the road, their boots creating a rhythmic sound on the cobbled stoned floor, where the right side seemed to be reserved for, what Mors assumed to be, messengers and supply carts. Mors had to step back to avoid one of the couriers and frowned. "Seem''s like something pretty big is going on." Kelora walked back to where Mors had stopped and grabbed his hand, dragging him behind her. "''Someone'' is causing mischieve on the border with the Mystic Republic and, although it never turns out to be anything more serious than a skirmish, we have to treat every threat seriously." Mors tried to pull his hand back, but it only caused Kelora to increase her grip. After a couple of seconds, he decided to wait for a better opportunity to escape when he felt his bones start to creak. "Someone?" Dragging Mors through the marching column, which paused momentarily and saluted to Kelora, Mors was pulled down a narrow side street and deeper into the city. Mors stifled a growl at being dragged around and decided to focus on the area around him. He was on high alert, expecting Kelora to get some payback for what happened in the arena, and using his surroundings might give him the edge to escape. Most of the buildings were two to three stories high and made from the same stone as the floor around them. All of them had differing runes, in varying colours, running down their sides and odd segments cut out of their corners, which Mors could not fathom the reason behind. Kelora, always watching the demon from the corner of her eye, smiled but decided to stay on topic. "Probably our mutual ''friends'' to the west that start with the letter S. Causing a skirmish, or even the threat of one will limit the number of resources we have available for internal operations for a while, letting them recover after the Captain''s retaliatory strike." Mors was about to try and escape Kelora''s grasp again but at the mention, even vaguely, of those who he deemed responsible for destroying his life, he settled down and followed Kelora without resistance. "So they have engineered a war to weaken you? And what is this strike?" "Us," responded Kelora, ignoring Mors'' second question. "Weaken Us. Don''t forget you are a Huntsmen now and it won''t turn into a war. Because of how the boarders of the big three fall, the Mystic Republic, Federation and Empire, they can''t afford to participate in a full-blown conflict. If one was to try pushing into another''s territory, they would probably be attacked on their opposite border causing a war on two fronts and ultimately them loosing. Due to the massive size of the regions, it''s easy to conquer lands, but keeping it is another matter altogether and so an uneasy truce has formed over the years. Worst that happens is a few skirmishes but the Captain always prepares for the worst case scenario."Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. "Do you have any proof they are involved?" Mors'' mood had soured greatly. "None, but they wouldn''t be worthy opponents if they were so simple." Mors felt irritated by Kelora''s choice of words but from the look on her face, or at least the side he could see while following her, he could tell she was thinking dark, bloody thoughts and decided that she did not mean it in a complimentary way. Deciding to try and get as much info from Kelora, who was strangely chatty, Mors continued their conversation. "So, I take it that due to logistics, the number of civilians, races, tribes, monsters, it would take quite a large, standing army to hold any newly acquired lands?" Supprised, Kelora nodded, the chilling look in her eye slowly fading. "Pretty much. Even with the Adventurers guild and other organisations, there needs to be a lot of troops spread across the lands, especially those close to natural dungeons. If you take them away for an offensive, then your regions at home suffer. You then need to keep those troops in any new lands to maintain the peace as you don''t want to give any military power to the locals or let a monster uprising take place which, in the end, spreads your forces thin." "So it''s a stalemate?" asked Mors. "Yes and no," responded Kelora. "Gone are the days of old where sides would line up and charge at each other while mages wrecked havoc from the rear. Now it''s all small, specialist divisions, taking out key targets and infrastructure to destabilise the enemies ability to mount any large-scale assault. Especially with how large scale magics, with enough preparation time, can decimate any large force gathered. Open warfare has been replaced with stealth conflicts that only a hand full of people know about. Well, that is apart from when it comes to a siege, then it''s pretty much the standard meat grinder." Mors looked behind him but could not see the marching columns anymore. Noticing this Kelora shook her head. "Here, in the protection of our fortress, we can mass safely, the moment they hit the tunnels, they disperse into their squads and won''t return until their unit leader decides the mission is complete." Mors frowned, his free hand rubbing his temple as he blinked his eyes to unblur them. It had been a long time since he last slept. "Their leader decides when the mission is complete?" Kelora had a look of understanding on her face, knowing full well how ludicrous it seemed. "Unlike other organisations, once a unit is deployed, they cut all communication, complete their orders and return. It does make organisation a nightmare for Valcea but keeps prying eyes and infiltrators at a disadvantage." "Doesn''t that make you pretty inflexable? What if there is a change in orders or circumstances?" Mors was confused by this strange military setup. "Communication crystals are not as secure as the masses think and the huge distance we opperate in makes it almost impossible pass news through conventional means. Anyway, we have our ways to ensure no one goes rouge or steps out of bounds," Kelora''s smile was fitting of a demoness. After realising that she wasn''t going to elaborate, Mors sighed, forgetting that Kelora was holding his hand. "How much impact does a mage have in war? At times it seems they are over powered then at others like they are nothing but a hindrance. Also, why are there only three nations when there are so many diffrent races and, why does the Federation let the Sun Council run free if they are causing issues?" Mors was finally getting some answers and so decided to press forward. Kelora looked at him with annoyance but sighed, turning down another alley, a bright, sunlit opening could be seen in the distance. "Mages have no place on the modern battlefield. It''s all hit and run/guerilla tatics but, Spellblades, Enhancers and Transmuters are pretty standard. Pure mages, tend to hold defensive positions or in dungeon adventure parties, anywhere with a good amount of meat shields, wards and mana supply around them. A decent mage can be more devistating than a city fortress if played correctly." "And the reason why there is only three kingdom''s is easy. Every race wan''ts to domminate others, some are just better at it, or don''t have every other species screaming about a horde coming to destroy everything they hold dear the moment three of you get together for a drink. Racist bastards." Clearing her throat, she continued. "The Sun Clan are the eyes and ears of the Federation and we, the huntsmen, are the blade. Slowly, we are getting more credit for our intelligence divisions but the lords that run the Federation have too much vested in the Sun Clan''s continued existance and tell the masses that they are needed for the survival and prosperity of the nation. Corrupt ogrelovers wouldn''t know what was good for them even if it came with a divine blessing and a naked goddess." Kelora spits on the floor, the hand grasping Mors tightening. Mors felt his temper spike. "Are you saying that without them w-" "No, I am not saying we need them to survive. The Federation feels it does and we need the Federation or else the Empire or Republic would wipe us from the history books. We are only a few hundred thousand strong and specialise in lightening warfare. We eliminate the threat and then we disappear. We are not suited to prelonged battles, managing a nation or looking after it''s people," intrupted Kelora, almost as irriated as Mors. "Forget it. Its a touchy subject at the best of times and us demons are not exactly the embodyment of restaint and patience." Mors nodded, as he took a deep breath to relax. feeling the exhaustion in his muscles. "Don''t I know it. Now, why don''t you tell me where we are going? You''re obviously not leading me somewhere secluded for revenge." Update Notice Hi All, I have just updated Chapter 14.4. There is nothing in there that will affect the storyline and I tried to keep it as low impact as possible. I have expanded the reasons why Mors charged into the forest which leads to Ethemeusa''s demise. There was a lot more left to the imagination/hints than I originally thought. (Summary of changes) When Mors was able to take a breath after being winded, he was able to smell a person who was in the summoning chamber (the ''mysterious'' one that escaped that wasn''t the the general, king or his men. (Hinted at when Mors woke up first with Verz and her team). New bits added: - Clearly stating that it is Mors senses (smell) that was the trigger (This was only hinted at) - The memories that resurface in Mors'' mind, causing him to lose himself to his anger. - Expanded the info that hinted at Mors being dazed/not thinking clearly (didn''t do too much to this as I didn''t want it to be too much of an excuse) You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.- Added in an extra push/hint (A ''familiar'' chuckle on the wind) that throws Mors over the edge. I know a few have commented stating that these are excuses made after I made the mistake of ''thoughtlessly'' killing off Ethemeusa. I hope you believe me when I say that this was always intended (Yes I did make a joke about killing her off because of the name) and I have not changed the story in any way other than being more explicit with what is going on. I beg you as a crappy author who only writes for fun (and the awesome comments you guys provide) that if I do end up being too vague on bits, to let me know and not let me get away with ''It makes sense when explained''. @ROCEILif you are still reading (or see this), thank you ever so much for providing the final motivation needed to clean up that chapter. I know it''s not perfect but the changes I want to make would impact multiple chapters (Where I attempted to explain the situation) so I am ''damage controlling'' at this point with the intent at bookend, to come back and do it properly before book 2. Sorry, you disliked the story so much but know that I have taken the positive criticism to heart and will endeavour to do better I am in the process of finalising the next chapter, expect it out today or tomorrow at the latest. Once again, thanks for reading! You guys rock. BOM:S - KIP - 19.3 - Demonic Accord [Draft] Book of Mors: Summoned Arc:Knowledge is Power Chapter 19,Part 3: Demonic Accord **************************** Kelora did not answer Mors as she dragged him behind her, refusing to let go of his hand, as the pair quickly moved through the dark side of the alleyway. Distracted with all the information he had gained, most of which he considered irrelevant at the moment, Mors suddenly stopped as he was about to step into the half of the alleyway bathed in sunlight. Although they had only been walking for twenty minutes, the angle of the light indicated it was late evening or even sunset, which was impossible, causing Mors to tense. "I feel honoured. You have gone to all this trouble to ensure I can''t use most of my abilities." Kelora shook her head. "A bit slow but not too bad. Though you aren''t that strong, those abilities are indeed troublesome. I don''t fancy wasting my time chasing you around the city." His eyes, locked onto the back of Kelora''s head as he released a hiss, preparing to fight. "Sorry to disap-" Before he could even move a muscle, Kelora pulled Mors past her and flung him onto the floor. Kelora''s melodic laugh echoed through the alleyway, causing Mors'' hairs to stand on end. "That little stunt you pulled in the Arena has shown me the error of my ways. I will no longer underestimate you, especially in the shadows. Though you may be an imp, you definitely have the right, and strength, to be called a demon. As such, even if this is a little demeaning for you, it''s a lot more respectful than it could be." "Oh, and don''t even think about it. Though I have no intention of fighting you, I am a little... rough when I play." The demoness crossed her arms and squatted, causing her brown leather armour to creak. Mors'' free hand, which had started pulling a small dagger from a crevice in his leather armour paused, a strange feeling telling him that drawing the blade was a terrible idea. "Calm down." Kelora''s laugh gently died out. "We are just going to have a little chat. If you answer in a satisfactory manner, then I will teach you what it means to be a demon. If not, you can train with the other brats for four weeks. Think carefully, I doubt four weeks of normal training will be able to prepare you for the front." The demoness''s thin, black tail swayed behind her playfully, her appearance more similar to a cat toying with its prey than a demon. Mors wanted to ask her what she meant, but he had a relatively good idea. They were going to be sending him to the eastern border. The idea of having found a safe haven until he got stronger shattered. "Trial by fire is it?" Kelora blinked in surprise. "Exactly how the Captain said it." Sighing she tilted her head. "Looks like you have spent too much time around the Captain. Oh, and before you start whining like a little fairy, all of this is on her orders. She is too busy to deal with you right now and has probably already left the city. I would be out there having fun too if it wasn''t for you, so you better be grateful." Kelora''s smile caused Mors to shudder. Mors had already got back to his feet and was rubbing his aching, tired muscles. "So, what do you want to know? I would like to find some hot water and bathe before having a nap so make it quick." Kelora frowned. "What''s wrong with you? In the past, just me speaking to you would set you off on a little tantrum, let alone throwing you to the ground and demanding answers. I would say you have lost your spine but you aren''t exactly being submissive either." Mors tiredly looked at the demoness. "You have no intent to hurt me... for once, and I don''t have the energy to waste on you. Tell me what you want." "This change have anything to do with you slaughtering your way through every species in the western district?" Kelora countenance changed, turning serious as she intently studied Mors'' eyes. Mors stared back at the red-eyed beauty in front of him, the bright light causing her to squint slightly. "In a way. You have a problem with it?" "No and yes," replied Kelora. "Us demons have a pretty bloodthirsty nature and love a good brawl but," Kelora paused for emphasis. "We are not in the demonic plains. We are not mindless beasts that kill for no reason. It''s that sort of behaviour that has lead us to the brink of extinction and to be the most hated species on the continent." Kelora growled a little in frustration. "Can you believe they are even comparing us to the Devils of old these days. The Church of Light are just waiting for an excuse to launch another holy crusade and purge the lands of the ''tame'' demons." Kelora obviously hated that demons that resided outside the Plains were called tame, even if they didn''t have a blood contract. "Are you trying to get a fan club of inquisitors after you? Or worse, the rest of us. Not even the Captain would be able to save your ass." "Who cares? They were only monsters." Mors could see the logic behind her reasoning but didn''t fully understand the problem, though the new information of the Church of Light gave him a worrying feeling. Sighing, Kelora held one hand up. "First, I need to know why you did it. Then I will resist beating you to a bloody pulp for being so stupid. Where do you get these half brained ideas'' from?" "I need strength," responded Mors in a flat tone. "I am sick of being pushed around and not being able to decide my own fate. I am tired of failing for no other reason that my inadequacies."Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator. He had also realised, a long time ago, that he had a lot of preconceived notions, while not completely wrong, where often bad enough to cause a problem. The demoness in front of him, trying to talk it out, instead of feast on his flesh or corrupt his soul, being one of them. "So that made it OK to slaughter those weaker than you? Even for a demon that is a pretty lousy excuse. There are far better ways to gain strength. Also, I thought you had a dragon''s heritage and the sin of Pride. Unless, " Kelora paused, studying Mors'' face. "There is a more sinister reason." Mors'' eye twitched. "I needed to know my body and its limitations, inside and out. To do that, I had to push myself to the limit and then, surpass it. You can''t get that in some safe, cosy castle... even if the occupants are militaristic nutters." Kelora''s armour creaked as she shifted her weight. "Only you or the Captain would say this place is safe and cosy. For most, they can''t wait to be roughing it on some mountain or facing a tribe of ogres single in unarmed combat. Anyway, are those the only reasons?" Glaring at the demoness for what seemed like minutes Mors finally looked away. "You want to know what I thi-" "No, not really." hissed Mors. "Silence is golden and all that." Kelora could only laugh. "Well, tough. You didn''t go out there to find yourself; you went out there to lose yourself. The killing, the near death experiences, every day being a struggle, exhausted to the point of collapse. You did it to escape your own thoughts and feelings. You might try to be an alpha demon, and don''t get me wrong, you have the potential, but... your insides." Kelora pointed to where a normal human heart would be. "Are weak, for a demon anyway. Is that why you go to great lengths to push everyone away? Is that why you insist on being alone? So you can''t feel the pain of loss?" Not waiting for an answer, a sadistic smile appeared on Kelora''s face as her tone turned mocking. "And, do you know what will probably make it worse for you? You slaughtered innocent, sentient beings, not monsters. Men, women and children with families, loved ones, dreams and desires." Mors frowned. "I only killed monsters." "Monsters?" Kelora nearly fell over laughing. "They have intelligence on par with most species and a very complicated, if fundamental social structure. In fact, there are a couple of hundred trolls in the Huntsmen. Make for excellent hunters and trackers and once you become a member of their... pack, no idea what they call their groups, you are basically a family member." Mors looked uncomfortable, but it was obvious he already knew and was trying to ignore the fact. He subconsciously accepted it when he saw the trolls trying to protect that young female and in the end, let her and the other go because of it, even if he did use the excuse that they were too pitiful to kill after they surrendered. Kelora wasn''t about to let it drop, sensing Mors'' hesitation. "I wonder how many orphans you made out there? I wonder if you got a title like Orphan Maker. Though you wouldn''t be the first, it''s still relatively impressive." Watching Mors like a hawk, analysing every muscle twitch, Kelora continued."Though I doubt you will get the troll bane title. It seems that your methods were rather... inspiring to them. From what the scouts say, they are almost worshiping you like some evil god of the forest." Mors didn''t want to think about it. He had been, was still in, a dark place, with the threat of not only the Sun Clan, but the Huntsmen becoming his enemies due to his loss of control that had led the death of Ethemeusa. Which only hurt more because she seemed to truly care for him. He couldn''t even say the same for Verz as he knew she was only using him for his skills. The memories of Ethemeusa''s hug as she cried, relieved that he was alive after his fight with that blue demon, floated up painfully. "Lies, they ran around naked, tearing things to pieces and eating them raw." Kelora looked hard at Mors. "Umm, and what were you doing Mr Rightous? Though you had some scraps of clothing, you behaved no differently. If anything, the fact that you can eat mana cores proves you are more of a monster than any of them." "..." Mors went silent but was glaring at Kelora. He wanted to ask how she knew about that but it was pretty obvious. Verz must have told her. Shrugging, Kelora continued. "Well, I guess I can accept those reasons. Just think next time before you want to kill everything in sight. Your actions do not only affect you, they reflect on the Huntsmen, everyone you know and your species." Kelora''s seriousness vanished as she winked. "Don''t make it harder for us to cut loose and have some fun every now and again. The Huntsmen are always in conflict somewhere. You won''t be getting itchy claws and will have more than enough opportunities to relieve some stress." "So next question, why do you desire strength?" "To kill those who have wronged me, have vengeance in place of the dead and..." Mors hesitated. "And, when it is all done so that I can retreat from this shitty world and live the rest of my days in peace and solitude." "Huh?" The last part of Mors'' answer caught Kelora off guard. "I hate this world and everything in it. I had everything stolen from me and, was forced on this road built from the skulls of the fallen. No matter which way I go, there is only death and destruction. Even if I could let go of everything, I would still be hunted. Even when I have killed everyone who wants to harm me, I will have created new enemies from their friends, lovers and family creating a never-ending cycle." Though Mors'' words sounded depressing, his eyes burned with determination. "Nothing is ever easy. I need the strength to break that cycle and create my own place in this world." "Demon''s don''t make old bones and while dragons use to, now that pretty much all of their body parts can be used to make legendary potions and elixirs, they are hunted mercilessly." Kelora smiled, genuinely this time. "Luckily their subspecies don''t have the same qualities or I would be able to think up a few rituals you would be perfect for. Then again, you already have enough of death''s marks on you." Kelora stood up and sighed. "Looks like I was worrying about nothing. You may be a Demon Lord candidate but your goals and reasons are pretty pathetic. Are you sure you don''t have sloth instead of pride as your secondary sin?" Mors had lots of questions, more than when he started, but what he really wanted to do is rest and recover. Over sixty-two hours had passed since he last slept. "So you will teach me more about demons? I have a lot of questions but they can wait for later." Kelora nodded. "Why not? It''s not like I have anything else to do before we can get to the front." Her sadistic grin returned "Apart from beat a little demon into shape." She turned to face the wall, pausing only for a moment. "Be warned though, the next four weeks are going to make your time in the forest seem like a wonderful dream. After your training, you will join the Pathfinders, and be attached to our group. Fuck it up again and I will make you regret your very existence." Mors didn''t need to be told how he fucked it up before, yet he still felt the urge to challenge the demoness. After taking a deep breath, he nodded. "Fine. Once again Kelora showed a surprised expression. "You really have changed haven''t you?" Mors'' face, only for an instance, twisted into the same, unnatural smile that had terrified Bruce. "Who knows?" Having a double take, doubting if she had seen the expression, Kelora reached out and tapped one of the stones on the wall. Instantly the light at the end of the alleyway dimmed, to the point one could see it was a dead in with a huge moonstone embedded in it. As Mors frowned, trying to work out how his senses were so easily tricked, the stones around where Kelora pressed rolled away, revealing a long, downward spiralling staircase. "Come, let''s meet the others." BOM:S - KIP - 20.1 - Demons of the Huntsmen [Draft] Book of Mors: Summoned Arc:Knowledge is Power Chapter 20,Part 1: Demons of the Huntsmen **************************** Laying on a long, comfy-looking sofa, in what appeared to be a dim, windowless tavern, Mors began to stir. Groaning groggily, he started to open his eyes before clamping his hands to his head and scrunching them closed. The cosy room was filled with light wooden bookcases and fabric sofas, littered amongst the wooden tables that would have made it very homely if it wasn''t for the hundreds of skulls lining the walls. Along the right side of the room, there was a long bar, covered in used tankards and half eaten food. "Dear Mother of God." Uttering a curse in his native language caused a few of waking demons to frown at the unknown language, but they soon shrugged it off, and either went back to sleep or started shuffling towards the exit. Most looked like regular humans, in body shape at least, with a multitude of different horns, tails, skin colours and, as Mors found out the night before, personalities. They shared common traits that vaguely fit with his preconceptions. Like being boisterous, easy to anger and settled pretty much everything with violence or competition. With his head on a nearby table, a large, green eyed demon that had spikes running down his back lifted his head and chuckled, though it was clear that he was suffering like Mors. "Not bad, kiddo. You came second place to Secoth, one of the most gluttonous greed demons that has ever stalked the earth. I''m surprised you didn''t burst at the seams." When he was finally sitting straight in his backless chair, he tentatively looked around, not moving his head too fast before letting out a sigh. "It always gets messy with newcomers. This is the second event this month. Guess most of us are going to be keeping a low profile today. Luckily the Captain has already left or she would have us running the spider caves. Trying to block out the man''s voice, Mors tried to piece together his fragmented memories. He remembered entering Kelora''s demon hideout, which apparently any good self-respecting demon had, and was introduced to the demons that called the Huntsmen home. Mors hated the thought of entering the underground den, mainly due to having a strong dislike for small, dark places, much preferring open ground, treetops or even better, the sky. It wasn''t on the level of being claustrophobic, but it was enough to sour his mood greatly. It had been an awkward introduction, so bad that one would struggle to point out who was more disinterested, the other demons or Mors. That was until the drinking started. By his second tankard, Mors had a second wind, feeling less drained by his exertion and by his sixth, he was in the midst of a betting frenzy. Kelora had retired to her room, a small door behind the bar, around the time the drinks got into the double digits, dragging a skinny male demon, who pathetically attempted to escape her clutches. Mors had, for some reason, found the scene hilarious before being told that he was lucky that he was still an imp as other females disappeared into different doors after ''acquiring'' their targets. The green eyed demon had introduced himself as Jack before informing Mors that unlike the stories, demonesses were much scarier than demons and if they were around about the same stage and strength, they were the ones in control. The hierarchy was based on strength but it seems the females were more vicious resulting in them taking control. Mors recalled a tune from the recesses of his memory and attempted to sing a song he only partially remembered, the one about the female of the species always being deadlier than the male. The remaining demonesses loved the song and tried to get Mors to repeat it but luckily Jack, and the angry glares of the male residents saved him. "Urg... I sang," grumbled Mors as he slowly opened his eyes. "Haha, that you did, kid. Let me tell you now, keep your day job," responded Jack, a mischievous smile appearing on his face. "Though if you want, I could introduce you to the earth elemental choir?" Mors could hear his mocking tone and assumed that earth elementals were not good singers before letting out a weak laugh. Those were the only bits he could remember, the other bits were too fragmented. There was something to do with ice, a lot of it, as well as watching some fights break out but other than that, Mors was drawing a blank.Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original. "Wheres Kelora?" said Mors in a pained voice as he massaged his head, mentally deciding that he would never drink again. "In the training room. The little missy that attacked you last night is getting her punishment." chuckled the demon. "Was entertaining though, I wish I could make people piss themselves with just a look." "Huh? I didn''t kill her?" Mors was surprised at his restraint. "Who was it anyway?" "Hmm, another one of the newbies," Jack raised a bony hand to his chin. "Though you probably won''t listen to me, be careful who you treat in that way, especially in here." Mors was expecting Jack to say something about there always being a bigger fish, but his next words threw his addled mind through a loop. "Trying to keep Delphinine, the masochistic succubus, away from you last night was a nightmare. I get it, with a heritage like yours, you see everyone as dirt beneath your feet, but please moderate your actions. You might have seen a bit of it last night but Demoness'' are either into dominating or being submissive, sadistic or masochistic. The only way to keep off their radar is to be in the middle, neutral... uninteresting. Do yourself a favour and hook up with a nice species like humans or elves. Yes, there is a lot of unnecessary drama but at least your not worried about your life every time you mate... most of the time." "Fucking hell, all you guys go on about is sex, fighting and trying to best each other. Don''t you have something better to talk about?" Mors raised his head and looked at Jack, piecing together more memories of last night. "That Delphinine was a psycho, even when I fractured her arm for trying to touch my tail she wouldn''t leave me alone. And what''s with her crazy regenerative ability? I was faster than mine." "She has had a lot of ''training''," shrugged Jack. "Bit of a double edged sword. She seems to like the pain but keeps getting resistant to it. As such, she needs to be more extreme which increased her regenerative abilities and... resistances." "Is that how you gain and strengthen skills? And isn''t that like a never ending cycle? Does that also mean that if you keep drinking you will get resistance to the alcohol?" asked Mors, deciding he was just lucky that the succubus got so drunk she disappeared into what Mors assumed to be the female toilets and after a long time, emerged and quickly left. "Poison resistance, yes, though it won''t repair the damage already done. Some species can get it quicker than others like dwarves where with others, like elves, acquiring the skill is pretty much unheard of. Mors nodded, knowing that this four-week lull was the best opportunity to learn about the world. "Still, at least I will be able to get stronger before they force me into that crappy unofficial war Kelora was talking about." A crooked smile appeared on his face. "Trial by fire... sounds like fun." Mors sighed as he lowered his head. This was the first time in weeks that he could relax, even if he was in a room full of demons, it somehow felt safe. He was half tempted to go back to sleep, the warm, soft body next to hi- Mors lept up, spinning the poor soul, who had been sharing the sofa, in the air before watching it land in a heap on the floor. Stick-like, green limbs stuck out of a brown robe at awkward angles as the figure tried to untangle themselves and sit up. Eventually, with the help of Jack, they managed and looked at Mors in annoyance. "Demon! Why do you interrupt my sleep!" Mors stared at the little, golden eyed demonic imp and sighed. "What do you think you''re doing Beth?" Beth, still sitting on the ground looked up at him. "Making sure the protector of my shinies isn''t stolen while drunk. There are a lot of bad females here. Smell awful." Beth smiled innocently, "Least you remember my name, unlike that other." Jack laughed, apparently knowing something Mors didn''t before slapping the demons back. "Just in case you forgot, you already lost this argument, and that was before you were singing terrible songs or had a rotten hangover. Give it up dragon boy; you have been claimed." "Huh?" Mors'' head was thumping, his throat was parched and now Jack was telling him that he had been claimed. That familiar rage started building up in the pit of his stomach. Spotting the same facial expressions as the night before, Jack continued to laugh as he explained. "Relax, there is nothing sexual, romantic or even unique about it. She is a Demonic Goblin. Goblins love shiny things and hoard them and Dragons, sharing that love, have created a symbiotic relationship with them. Dragons protect the horde while goblins increase it. If anything, having already been claimed will make life easier for you with the other goblins. They won''t bother you until they eliminate her." Beth straightened her brown robes as she pouted, her green whip-like tail dancing behind her. "You wouldn''t come to my shinies, and I couldn''t let you protect other goblins, so I decided to stay. Stupid demon, throwing me on the floor when I was having such a good dream." "Umm, is she even allowed in here?" asked Mors, remembering that only demons were allowed. "Can''t stop her, so we gave up. She has the same affinities as you, fire and darkness. Luckily she is too busy stealing to protect her stash, so people aren''t too angry, but it is getting annoying. I heard the Captain gave up trying to capture her after the first week." Mors stared in shock at the goblin. He had not tried out his new strength against Verz, but he somehow doubted he could get her to give up before stomping him into the floor. "Its because I am too strong for you weaklings," smiled Beth, folding her arms across her chest. "You should feel honoured that I take your shinies." She then pointed at Mors. "Come, I will take you to our den. We need to stop the thief''s from stealing back what is theirs." Deciding to ignore her, Mors turned to Jack. "Wait, how do you know so much about me?" Jack smiled "Ah, sorry I forgot. I am the demon physician and a bit of a book worm. Kelora has entrusted me to teach you about our kind as well as give you a physical before she starts her training regime." "Speaking of that, we better get cracking before she finishes."Hooking his thumb over his shoulder, towards a large, battered wooden door, he smiled with excitement. "Come on, let''s see what a draconic demon can do." BOM:S - KIP - 20.2 - The world is never still [Draft] Book of Mors: Summoned Arc:Knowledge is Power Chapter 20,Part 2: The world is never still **************************** Mors shakily stood up and started to follow the hulking, spiked demon as he walked towards the large wooden door. "Isn''t the exit on the other side?" Jack chuckled. "Us demons, as well as goblins and other ''dark'' species'', have a small underground city down here. In fact, it''s entirely possible for someone to live here and never see the light of day so try to keep up." Beth, her brown robe obviously too big for her, followed as her eyes analysed her surroundings, never settling on one place. This behaviour, along with Mors'' distrust of others, caused him to tense and expect the worst. Jack''s chuckle broke out into laughter, "Don''t worry about her kiddo. She is just looking for things to stea-" "Liberate," huffed Beth. "You demons don''t appreciate your shinies. They cry out at the badness of their mistreatment." "So sticking them in a pile in a dark room makes them happy?" jokingly responded Jack, obviously enjoying the banter. "They have friends and where else would a shiny thing like to be? In the darkness with a little bit of light, they can shine like the stars, the biggest and bestest shiniest of them all," replied Beth as if she was stating a fact, her arms crossing over her chest. A deep growl escaped Mors'' throat as he stumbled into one of the nearby tables. "Will you two shut up?" A mischevious smile crept upon Jacks face as he reached the door and slowly, as if to prolong the noise, opened the it causing it to creak loudly on its rusty hinges. "You say something Mr Grumps?" Mors ground his teeth as he winced, still managing to glare at the demon. "I swear to-" Jack quickly waved off whatever Mors was about to say. "AHH, none of that. I was only messing with you. My health is frail as it is without a wrath demon making pledges against it." "Least I know your mortal. If you drank that amount and woke up without a hangover, it wouldn''t be fair," he added onto the end quickly before diving through the open doorway. "Anyway, let''s get a move on. First is the physical and then we can move onto the challenge of trying to fill that empty head of yours somewhat." As the trio disappeared into a dark corridor, back in Althor, the capital city of Vonia, seven people sat around a round table in a lavishly decorated meeting room as dust, floating in the air, was illuminated by the bright sunlight entering the tall, majestic windows. Sitting on a throne-like chair, wearing a golden crown, King Harken sighed loudly. "What do you mean you can''t locate it? You have the best trackers in the land and even the support of the Sun Clan." A nervous looking woman, her green hair tied up in a ponytail, fidgeted. "My King, we lost track of him when the demon and an unknown group passed into the Ice Demon''s territory. As their envoys were leading the group, we were unable to gain passage quickly and were not able to pick up their trail on the other side." "DAMN IT." Harken slammed his fist into the table, causing everyone but the brown haired woman next to him to jump. "Brother!" Said the woman, obviously in a bad mood. "Excluding the fact that you are a moron for doing something so dangerous, putting your whole kingdom at risk, don''t you think this is enough? What do we have to gain by pursuing this creature, which is nothing more than a child if the other ''super weapons'' you idiots summoned are anything to go by. Stop wasting precious resources on this. We have bigger problems to contend with."The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. Harken''s eyebrow twitched, not in annoyance but because she was right, as he turned to his sister. "That creature slaughtered my men, nearly killing me and crippling Rynheart. That thing is a menace to all and needs to be wiped out. Even the su-" "Do you really think they are helping us out of the kindness of their hearts? No. They have something invested in its death. Something that threatens them so much that they are willing to crawl out from whatever rocks they were hiding under," interrupted the woman. "Are you not sick of being used as a puppet? You''re a king for the love of all gods. Behave like one." "Princess Elenor... Please not in front of the ministers," pleaded a one-armed man, his face pale with dark bags under his eyes. The skin on his cheeks sagged, showing that rapid weight loss he had undergone. "While your points may be valid, you didn''t see that monstrosity or what it was capable of. It knew exactly what it was doing and what was worse, that was its weakest form. Every day we dither, it increases in strength." Softness returned to Eleanor''s eyes as she looked at the once great general. He had immediately gathered men, not waiting for his injuries to heal and chased every rumour that he had heard to no avail."Once again, you are basing all your facts on what the Sun Clan has given you. What do you actually know? General Rynheart. You should be focusing on recovering." The room fell into silence. The King was a noble man who would do whatever it took for the benefit of his people, but everyone here knew that the princess was the brains. Since the death of her father, she had tirelessly worked to make things easier for her brother and her countrymen, dealing with every threat, both domestic and foreign. The fact that the nobles hadn''t rebelled, even with the Sun Clan''s help, was due to her and so her words held almost as much wait as the King''s. "Enough," They looked to the king only to find his head resting in his hands, his complexion looked even worse than Rynheart. Taking a deep breath, he straightened himself up. "We lost the most promising candidates to the Sun Clan, but we still have a mission. Eleanor''s right, we need to focus and bring stability to our nation and the Human Kingdoms before anything else. The fact that the Sun Clan had enough power and influence the renegade nobles, although worrying in its own right, is just a stop gap. We need to fix the issues that led to this and, if that monster ever shows his face in our territory, then we will be in a much better position to respond." "My King, should we call back the scouts?" asked the green haired woman, two old men on her sides nodding in agreement. "No, Even if we are not going to do anything, I still want to know where it is," responded Harken dryly. "The one thing I learnt from monster hunting was, no matter what, never lose track of a threat. Now, you are all dismissed. Leave" The people around the table nodded, and while helping Rynheart, left the room quickly, leaving only Elenor and Harken. With a sigh, Harken glanced at his sister, her face as cold as a stone mask. "Elenor, I don''t know how many times I have told you that I am sorry for not telling you. But I had to make a decision and even with the loss of life, it still has bought us time to bring out people together and stave off humanities extinction." "Like a sorry ever brought the dead back to life," responded Elenor before giving a weak smile. "But you are my brother. I will be taking five of the summoned to train and become my royal guard as compensation. The vampire, half dragon, water spite, dark elf and demon." "But -" "No buts. I might have made it sound like it wasn''t a big deal to the others, but you have personally made a mortal enemy out of a damn demon with enough power to slaughter our elite troops in seconds. One who is vindictive enough to burn down an entire village without reason, murdering every man, woman and child. You concentrate on our country; I will deal with the demon." Elenor stood up. "What are you going to do?" Walking towards the door, Elenor looked over her shoulder and with a tired face, smiled. "Try to reason with it and if that fails, spread the dust of his bones across the graves of the fallen. There shall be no mercy to enemies of our family and kingdom. Even if we are the ones in the wrong." Harken was impressed with her resolve. He knew that Elenor''s secret lover had been part of his personal guard that day and even watched as the man sacrificed himself so Harken could escape, but even then, his sister was still willing to reason with the demon before resorting to violence. Harken shivered. He honestly didn''t know what was more frightening, his sister detached coldness or that enraged demon. Watching Eleanor''s back as she walked out the room he placed his head in his hands again. "The die has been cast, I guess all that I can do is wait and see where it lands." NAC - Vote and Update Hi Guys, I have been hitting a bit of a brick wall with the current Arcs. Too many spoilers and ''locks'' for things going forward. As such, I am debating putting two placeholders (Arc) and then adding to them as and when it feels right.If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. It also might have something to do with me getting ahead with The summoned and wanting to rewrite for BOM. The story will pick back up where The summoned Trials did, (an introchapter or two explaining things) and then pretty much follow the old story BAR, a certain death is not going to happen, and a certain lucky individual isn''t going to survive. (Got to balance the scales) BOM:S - KIP - Time Skip Overview Book of Mors: Summoned Arc:Knowledge is Power The so-called physical examination Mors was forced to complete was similar if not higher in standards to what Acoria''s most elite special forces were put through, though, to his surprise, it was the standard training of the Huntsmen and the lowest level he would need to pass to become one. On the first day, he fell just under the half way mark, which was still impressive for someone of his age and abilities but it was not enough for Jack, who mercilessly started a harsh training regime to get the draconic demon into shape. A gruelling six days later, Mors was barely able to pass, mainly thanks to his body''s constitution and his ridiculous healing ability. His muscles could break down and rebuild in minutes, making it possible for him to gain strength at incredible speeds. Jack and Kelora did not show it, but they were shocked at the rate of Mors'' growth. It took most trainees a little under a year to achieve what he had done in as little as six days, and they were the cream of the crop. Being demons, heavily influenced by Verz, this was a bad sign for Mors as they decided to push him harder than any before, finally understanding what their Captain saw in him. They became so engrossed in training that they ended up neglecting their other responsibilities causing resentment with their peers as they were forced to pick up the slack, escalating the rumours that Mors was getting ''special'' treatment and further alienating him from the other recruits. Immediately after completing his physical, Mors was thrown into a daunting regimen of being privately trained by Kelora while taught the basics of a demon knowledge, mainly focusing on racial traits, evolution types and demonic pacts, by Jack. Mors learnt that demons, although physically powerful, gained most of their powers through absorption of ambient mana. While passively this was pretty weak, when the mana was influenced by a sin, for example, lust, it could empower demon with that sin, giving related abilities a significant boost in power. Like everything that involved mana, it wasn''t always black and white. An example would be Mors being a demon of wrath. While he could feed off anger and resentment, it was fear that gave him the biggest powerup. This confused Jack for some time until he put it down to his draconic side and secondary sin, pride. There had never been a demon with both sins, some believing that they conflicted each other and so, he accepted that there might be some quirks. Regarding evolution, Demons were one of the most versatile races, their experiences and environment dictating what they would evolve into, however, in rare cases, this would be ignored for specialist types, Demon Lords, Demonic Generals and Apostles being more common, though still extremely rare. Demon Lords were the rarest as somehow, only one per sin could exist at a specific time. No one knew why, but it was thought that this was due to their devil heritage. The information Mors was most interested in was Demonic Pacts, mainly because he had already accidentally executed one and wanted to know what impact it would have on his life. His pact, triggered when he removed his horns and made his vow, was that he would, if in his power, protect the twins. Jack slapped Mors on the back and laughed heartily, congratulating him for not being dumb enough to link his life force to them. Mors could only nod his head in agreement, realising how close he had been to doing something truly stupid. As Mors and Jack discussed, going through all the loopholes that existed in demonic pacts, most racial secrets as they were often used to trick others, they found that Mors'' pact was pretty open termed contract and did not hinder him in any way. In fact, if he just stayed ignorant of any danger they were in, Mors didn''t have to do anything. A wicked smile grew on Mors'' face, sending a shiver down Jacks'' spine. Mors had potentially found a loophole that even most demons did not know of, linked to magic and was extremely tempted to try it out. The topic of the twins was never brought up again. The second pact, one he still had trouble in believing, was a submission pact. When a demon was so thoroughly overpowered, and their instincts told them they had little to no chance of survival, sometimes they would submit to another, in all but name, becoming a slave. This sickened Mors, his very body and soul disgusted that one would submit their everything to another just to continue existing. The only bright side of this pact was that if the submissive one ever felt they were significantly stronger than the other, they would challenge them in an attempt to gain their freedom. Ryen was then introduced to Mors for the second time, losing her temper when it was evident Mors did not remember or even care she had submitted to him, causing her to lose everything. Mors simply waved her off saying do as she pleases and to stay away from him.You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. Being a demoness, she took what he said as an insult at being too weak to even bother looking at her and declared she would gain strength, regain her freedom and kill Mors. He only chuckled and released his aura, causing her to scream in fear and run away. Even a blind person would be able to tell she was serious but to Mors, who planned to take on entire kingdoms and powerful organisations, it was almost laughable. During his limited free time, after a lot of bribes/threats and almost constant irritation, Mors caved in and joined Beth in her liberation of shiny things, terrorising the fortress. On their first heist, Mors discovered that Kelora was following them but did not attempt to stop them. After carefully watching her, he realised she was evaluating their performance and could only laugh. To her, this was just another form of training. However, he soon found that she was not completely impartial. If they got caught, well if Mors got caught, Beth was harder to catch than a shadow, Kelora handed out harsh punishments which initially made Mors laugh at their spartan like ways, only punishing you if you got caught, however that laughter was soon replaced with anger. Kelora''s most favoured punishment was the Spider Pits, a place Mors soon detested more than the chamber he was born in. The wolf''s Den was built on top of a conquered dungeon specialising in spiders, hence its unoriginal name. Quick, venomous and deadly, the spiders were, in large enough numbers, able to overpower even the most powerful of foes. As such, they were culled regularly as part of training. Fifty-four wells stood in the middle of the fortress, along with a large, cavelike entrance. Each well led to one of the levels of the dungeon, enabling rapid access to the floors. Mors learnt that the reason for this was that the trainees were always dropped a level or two beyond their comfort zone and had to fight their way out. Pushing their limits while also hammering home the point that even a weak enemy can kill you as they struggled upwards, their exhaustion sometimes overtaking the lowering difficult levels. Mors ended up spending most of his free time when he wasn''t appeasing Beth''s addiction, and even lessons, in the Spider Pits. Kelora and Jack visiting him as he progressed towards the exit, carrying out their training and then leaving without aiding him in any way. In fact, he swore that a horde of spiders would always appear just before or after they did and vowed to have a little vengeance as soon as he was able to. The days carried on like this until one day; Beth did not show up to morning practice. Since Mors'' appearance, she was always around him somewhere, even in the spider pits, chasing off any other goblins that got too close fearing that they wanted to steal her shiny guardian. Mors paid it no mind however on the second day, Kelora decided to check on the demonic goblin and found something that shocked her. Beth had evolved, and soon reports came in from Huntsmen infiltrators that most of the other summoned, the ones left in Vonia, had similarly changed. Ecstatic at the prospect, Kelora increased Mors'' training regime to the point that he, for the first time in memory, considered giving up, barely giving him time to catch his breath let alone heal but was disappointed when he showed no signs of evolving. Though shocking, especially considering their age, the Summoned, at least the ones that evolved instead of growing, were created at the peak of their first stage and so this wasn''t completely unexpected, and Kelora could only vent her frustrations that Mors seemed to be different. Mors was completely shocked by Beth''s transformation, she was pale-green, thin but shapely, two curved brown horns stuck out from her messy, black hair and her green whip-like tail was almost a metre long. To say she was an exotic beauty was an understatement and it wasn''t long for her evasion skills to be put to a new use, escaping the many admirers that attempted to gain her attention, though, if they offered something shiny, she would normally put up with them for a bit. While not ugly, goblins were not considered that attractive. Only average by human standards, but her demonic heritage had given her a certain allure and the fact that she was powerful, gaining the respect of many with her shadow skills, did not help. Beth now looked to be around the age of an eighteen-year-old human, but that was not what shocked Mors the most. It was the change in personality. The duo continued with their robberies at night. However, the dynamics had changed, and Beth''s instincts told her to dominate the draconic demon while he was still young, which did not go down well. Two days later, a small portion of the Wolf''s Den collapsed as Mors finally had enough and tried to kill Beth in the Undercity, causing a lot of damage to the support pillars. It ended in a draw; Beth could not hurt Mors enough to surpass his regeneration and Mors couldn''t catch Beth, only landing a few lucky blows. Unlike the trouble they had got in before, the damage to the fortress caused a manhunt and they knew that their punishment was going to be extreme. Surprisingly, Beth was wounded enough to allow a team of trackers to capture her, though they did use her ill-gotten gains as bait, however, Mors was nowhere to be found. When Kelora finally found Mors, she grimaced. Standing on top of the Fifty-Fourth Well, gazing into the Abyss, his devil marks were illuminated as blasts of flame, and dark misty menacingly crackled around him. The fight with Beth as well as the suffocated feeling of being restricted by Huntsmen was too much and he needed to vent or he would likely try to incinerate the fortress. He needed to Hunt. Before she could stop him, he stepped forward falling into the depths, but not before locking eyes. Kelora knew that she would not be about to change his mind, having spent so much time with him and so, decided to let the demon be, a large part thinking that this struggle might be what he needs to evolve making her secretly excited. The four weeks he was meant to be training came and went, and on the sixth he emerged from the dungeon, battered, bruised and giving off a much colder aura than when he went in. Kelora was disappointed that he didn''t evolve, but they were already late and so, without waiting for him to patch things up with Beth, took Mors, along with a couple of divisions east, the the Republics borders and Verz. BOM:S - TEF - Time Skip Overview [Draft] The journey to the Eastern Front, bordering the Mystic Republic, was relatively uneventful for Mors, allowing him to slowly bond and develop an awkward friendship with the temporary team he had been assigned to. A human, John Fielding, led the group he joined with the rest of the team consisting of a female elf that kept to herself, known as Seer, a water elemental called Nepra, a Fae named Breena and a gecko-like, Amos. Unlike most of the adepts at the Wolf''s Den, the Huntsman HQ, the team tried hard to integrate Mors, going over and beyond to bypass his prickly outer shell and, a few days before they reached their new home, at least for the next few months, the draconic demon opened up. However, unlike Kelora had promised, Verz was deep behind enemy l, eliminating threats on the Republic''s side of the border so, instead of being trained personally by her, Mors and his team were put on cleanup duty. The nobles, at least those that they encountered in the east, were beyond corrupt, and like a fireball hurled into dry grass, the Huntsman passed through the villages, towns and cities, cleansing any that harboured ill intention toward the Federation, or in Mors'' case, those that earned his rage. To say they were heavy handed was an understatement. The Federation''s scouts where the scalpel, its army the hammer and the Huntsmen, the tactical nuke. Young, old, man or woman, it mattered not to the Huntsmen as they continued with their gruesome business of stabilising the region, no matter the cost. This behaviour was one of the main reasons why the Huntsmen had become so feared and hated, even amongst its own people. Considered Zealots to their missions, without mercy or remorse, most had huge bounties on their heads from underground organisations and the other nations. Though, instead of finding this daunting, the huntsmen treated a bounty like a badge of honour or an unofficial ranking system. Though there was no official declaration of war, the region had fallen under martial law on both sides of the border, with Kelora and Rock taking control in their captain''s absence. Surprisingly, instead of stopping Mors and his rampages, they provided him with even more information, resources and at times, troops. Mors'' relative free reign in picking his targets, with the consent of his team leader, wasn''t because he was untouchable or had the Captains favour, but because he was targeting the scum of society, the ones that if the rest of Huntsmen didn''t have pressing matters, would remove themselves. It also had the bonus of training Mors in the way of the hunt, which he became frighteningly good at, earning him the begrudging respect of the garrisoned Huntsmen. Though to them, even if he was effective, he was a loose cannon that could not be controlled, and soon, those in higher positions started to move against him, limiting Mors'' exposure to delicate or high profile missions. It wasn''t long before Verz''s covert efforts in the Republic''s territory, along with the Huntsmen''s ''housekeeping'' of their own de-escalate the threat of war. This was also due to the vast expanse of territory in question, as well as the costs of maintaining specialist armies and the removal of any warmongers, resulting in the Federation and Republic pulling troops away from the border, and just as Verz had predicted, it was over before it really began. At this tentative time, where things were starting to calm down, Mors came across a small town''s slave trader and a dying slave girl. Slavery was one of the things Mors abhorred, having regained a few of the memories of his previous lives he lived as a slave, but what he found, sent him over the edge. The girl was an almost perfect match for his daughter and mysteriously, in her dying moments, screamed out for her father, cursing the world and everything in it. Though on paper he was weaker, Mors'' mentality, fractured memories of past lives, cunning and unpredictability gave him a huge advantage over his peers, and it wasn''t long before no one on the Eastern front, both friend and enemy, underestimated him. The town was wiped from the face of Acoria in a matter of hours, due to being mostly made up of civilians, but the slave trader was able to escape Mors'' clutches, taunting him as he fled into Republic territory. Even though they were horrified by Mors'' disregard for life, which was an impressive feat as Huntsmen were desensitised from killing, the rest of his team were forced to follow him as he charged across the border after the man. This was a fatal mistake as they fell into a well-prepared ambush, in which only Mors and John, managed to escape, on the cusp of death as they returned to the regions HQ.Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site. The destruction of the town, due to the actions of a single slave trader, even if after the ambush few believed that a third party didn''t orchestrate the event, and the destruction of his team, alienated Mors from the majority of the Huntsmen once again. While they were vicious and without mercy, they still had a code of conduct and killing civilians without a justifiable reason, was one of the things that the considered taboo. Also, due to the similarity between his team and Ethemeusa''s death, rumours one again started to circulate and Mors obtained a new title, The Cursed Huntsmen. It wasn''t long after that Verz returned from the shadows, her mission complete to find that most of her units, besides her team, had turned on Mors, ostracising him to the point where he was one again living in the nearby forests. Rock and Kelora tried their best, but the situation was turning extremely volatile, particularly after the suspicious death of John, his body found mutilated and hung upon the huntsmen''s regional fortress. John had become Mors one and only true friend, even after the ambush as he did not blame Mors in the slightest, and his death hit the demon hard. To the point where even approaching him was almost impossible. It was clear to most that Mors was being set up, more than likely by the Sun Clan as they were the only ones they knew that had a vendetta against the draconic demon as well as the means to carry out such a risky plan. Even with this reasoning, it didn''t save Mors from the rumours as the Huntsmen, due to the nature of their jobs, were extremely superstitious. He soon became akin to a bad omen and was avoided at all costs. Verz, realising that if this continued, her plan at using Mors''s ability to save her clan''s heritage would be destroyed, left her team behind to deal with the withdrawal from the Eastern front and took Mors back to Flatner to train in isolation. Though many questioned her decision, the leader of the Huntsmen to disappearing for six months just to train a single adept, none were brave enough to disagree with her and could only hope that her fascination with the Cursed Huntsmen would soon end. Disappearing deep into the ancient forest, Verz trained Mors mercilessly and without rest, putting him in dangerous situations and forcing him to adapt and grow, focusing on his skills and individual combat abilities instead of relying on a team tactics. She had come to the realisation that Mors was not suited for group battles or to have many allies, mainly due to his personality, and started training him in the way of the Pathfinders. The lone wolfs of the Huntsmen. Though he would still need to pass the final trial in a team, once he passed, she would immediately assign him the title, allowing him to work independently. During his time with Verz, Mors had grown very attached to the wolfkin, even with her brutal training regime and warped sense of humour, she made it clear that the reason she was so interested in him was that of his abilities and strangely that greatly reassured him. After the death of John, Mors needed someone to rely on more than ever, and with Verz''s unique disposition, her strength and the fact she held no secrets from him, no matter how much it hurt the demon, enabled him to form a bond. One that rapidly grew, even without the aid of his angelic bloodline. It wasn''t only Mors'' attitude that changed. Slowly, Verz unintentionally peeled back the layers of Mors'' defences and found something familiar, reawakening feelings deep inside her that she long thought dead. It did not help that Mors rapidly adapted to her methods of tormenting him for fun. Eventually, the only way she could tease the demon was, in a warped way, with kindness. Violence and brutality were almost second nature to him but, with a single act of kindness, she could almost completely disarm him, before brutally taking advantage and often, breaking more than one bone. After a few months, one of Verz''s challenges, to infiltrate the city hive of trolls and steal a sacred treasure, Mors was discovered and thrown into a life and death battle. Displaying the might of all his training, Mors was gradually pushed back by sheer numbers though, to a normal person, even this was an incredible feat. Just as it looked like he was about to fall, and Verz prepared to step in, Mors unknowingly killed the troll king giving him a brief respite as a battle erupted amongst the trolls in an almost scripted, power struggle. However, he wasn''t completely ignored, and with his acquired injuries he was slowly faltering to the point where he believed that he would not survive the encounter. The infighting ended when a young, female troll, wearing a gold band and a matching ring, killed another, which turned out to be her brother, claiming the right to rule over the trolls. Her first order was for Mors to be left alone. Exhausted, surrounded by dead trolls and covered in wounds, Mors collapsed as black swirling mist gathered around him, condensing into a spiked cocoon. Everyone knew that Mors was evolving, being a common event for most species, but what happened next completely surprised Verz. Not only did the new troll queen order her subject to stop attacking Mors, she personally picked up his cocoon and moved it into her new royal chambers, treating Mors with reverence. Trolls were fiercely territorial, and although the huntsmen had something of an unofficial non-aggression treaty with them, she could not work out why the new queen would protect him. With Mors'' life not in any immediate danger, Verz decided to wait until she could take Mors without agitating the trolls unnecessarily. Luckily Mors was not wearing his mask or Huntsmen cloak so it would be hard to link them together, not that it really mattered. The trolls might be strong for a tribe, but the Huntsman could purge them in a few weeks if it came to that. Days past and eventually, the new queen of the trolls, left Mors with a small guard as she solidified her rule. Verz was slightly concerned why the queen was so infatuated with Mors, but in the end, she put it down to her being attracted to his strength and nothing more. Using her abilities, Verz successfully retrieved Mors without killing any of the guards and rapidly left the troll territories in preparation for when Mors would complete his evolution and return to the Huntsmen fortress. BOM:S - GASW- 21.1 - The Team Book of Mors: Summoned Arc: Getting a Soul Weapon Chapter 21,Part 1:The Team **************************** Standing outside the northern gate of the Wolf''s den, five figures, dressed in thin, brown leather armour, were milling about idly. It was early morning, and a light fog hung over the clearing between the imposing stone walls and the dark, depths of the forest creating a calm, almost eerie atmosphere. "So, does anyone know anything about the newbie?" said an elf, his pointed ear twitching, as he scratched his short blonde hair and readjusted the bow slung over his shoulder. A girl, with reptilian eyes and flaming red hair, huffed noisily as she lazily held her staff. "For the last time Alex, we know nothing. We were just told to wait here." "Sure," responded Alex, not believing her for a second. "Just like when you said we were going to leave with the others and then we found out you and your bear lover knew we weren''t." "Alex, I think it''s time you stopped irritating Alice, you are going to get burnt... and not in a fun way," said another elf, looking similar but with dark brown hair. "Shut it, Trent; We have been here for hours, and they know something. Why is it that no matter where we go, those in power like shitting on the little guys," spat Alex, disdain heavy in his voice. Holding up both hands, as if surrendering, Trent smiled. "Look, even Bruce seems like he is about to give up the will to live and what will knowing do? Take it easy; girls don''t like stressy elves." At the mention of his name, the group turned to look a the bearkin, who was unusually silent, starting at the ground as if it was his mortal enemy. With a slight skip in her step, Alice walked over to the towering bearkin, wrapping her arm around his waist. "What''s up? Ever since you got called to HQ, you have been like a bear with a sore paw." Bruce looked down at the teasing smile of Alice, glaring for a few moments before sighing and releasing a genuine smile. "Don''t worry, you will find out soon enough." "You know I hate secrets," Removing her arm sharply she stomped off, heading towards a girl that looked almost the same as her, the only difference being blue hair and eyes instead of red. "You are going to hate the truth even more," grumbled the bearkin to himself, watching her lamia stomping away. "Claire, something tells me this is going to be a very long trip," said Alice as she slipped in beside her sister and let out a deep breath. The blue eyed lamia looked at her twin sister and smiled. "A year is a year. How can it be any longer?" The two elves snorted, trying to hide their laughter. Claire and Alice were complete opposites, but at the same time, felt like two halves of a whole. One Cynical, aggressive and domineering, the other air-headed, placid and submissive. They often fought, but it was as obvious as day and night that they were never serious. "That wasn''t even funny," hissed Alice, causing the elves to laugh even more. "Alice..., you know those perverted elves like it when you hiss," sighed Bruce as he shook his head. He was normally the jealous type but knowing what was coming; he didn''t feel like engaging in an argument with the elves. "...they use it as... material." Alices face went red from embarrassment before turning to Bruce, concern flashing across her eyes, noticing that he wasn''t about to bury the elves in the ground like he normally would. "What''s w-" "Ah, the joys of youth. Not only can it distract you, enabling someone to appear unnoticed and replace more important thoughts, like how are you going to survive the upcoming trial, but it can even make you forget your manners when facing a superior officer." A melodic, cheerful voice interrupted Alice.The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. The five froze, their eyes widening. Though they had not seen her in almost three-quarters of a year yet, they could never forget the voice of their most dreaded instructor, the captain of the Huntsmen, Verz. "Captain," shouted the recruits as they rushed to form a line, slamming a fist to their chests. Verz stood there, her leather armour looking like it was about to fall apart at any moment. "At ease, I don''t have time to... play. I need to change and gather my squad. We will be heading to the city of Ashsqua together in fifteen. Be ready." Verz''s words shocked the group. They expected to be given their assignment and leave on their own like the rest that had taken this year''s trials. With this new information, they started to assume that their mission might have something to do with the city, which was weird as it was almost as secure at their fortress, deep in Huntsmen territory. "Mors, stay here and," Verz turned towards a tall, thin man standing next to her, his huntsmen mask showing from beneath his black mantle, hiding his face. "If you start a fight, you will be starting the trial with two broken legs... and that''s if I am feeling nice." Not waiting for the demon to respond, Verz figure flickered as she scaled the walls, too impatient to wait for the gates to open, and disappeared inside the citadel. The adepts looked at Mors as if they had seen a ghost. One of the first and most important lessons taught to an adept was the ability to detect others. While their captain, being at such a high level, it was acceptable to not noticer her, the man standing in front of them was clearly an adept yet, even if they tried now, it was extremely hard to sense him, his figure seemingly melding into the long shadow of the wall. Alice frowned and started muttering. "Mors? Why does that name sound familiar?" Bruce barely contained a growl. "The last initiation trial... The guy that won it." The lamia''s head snapped up and her eyes locked onto Mors as her a small wave of bloodlust seeped from her. Alex and Trent, not understanding the problem, as they had only just returned from their training, wanted to get along with their new teammate, stepped forward. "Hey, my nam-" Mors abruptly turned and moved towards the stone wall, ignoring the elves before turning and sliding down into a sitting position. After no more than a few moments the faint sound of snoring, almost inaudible, reached their ears. "I wish I could sleep like that," laughed Trent as he shook his head. Alec smiled. "He did just turn up with the captain; I am surprised he isn''t in a body bag. I guess introductions can wait until later." Claire had been watching the whole thing with a confused expression as Alice and Bruce slowly distanced from the group, talking in muffled whispers. After a few minutes. the adepts fell into silence, each for their own reasons. Alice was livid at Bruce for not warning her, Bruce was lost in his thoughts, the elves were bored, and Claire was curious about the newcomer, slowly creeping towards him when her sister wasn''t looking. Just as she had reached the sleeping Mors, and about to cough to see if she could wake him up, Verz reappeared, landing heavily onto the group, quickly followed by the rest of her group, Kelora, Rock and Velcea. "Come on; let''s get going. You guys are already a week behind." "Who''s fault is that?" grumbled Rock, irritation evident on his face as he glared at his captain. "Sleeping beauty over there decided to evolve after killing the troll king, wooing the new queen and wasting valuable training time," responded Verz, though it was clear by her tone, she was proud of Mors'' feats. "And... his punishment took a fair bit of time." It was then that the new arrivals noticed Mors, sitting against the wall. Verz had not told them anything about the pair''s time away, wanting to see their reactions as they saw his evolved form and sensed his increase in power. Mors woke with a flinch, instantly on high alert before processing where he was and slowly standing. He didn''t say anything as he started walking towards Verz. Rock''s jaw dropped, Velcea looked slightly irritated, and Kelora stared intensely for bursting out laughing. "Took the brat long enough, though I guess that getting the second most powerful bloodline isn''t too shabby. Greater demons have some pretty impressive evolutionary trees if they can meet the requirements." Verz seemed to take the demoness'' words as an insult instead of praise. "He isn''t a pure blood so he couldn''t be a royal variant and with his dra-....heritage he would stomp them into the dirt." The Huntsmen immediately picked up on the fact that she had just stopped herself saying Draconic and made a mental note to do the same. Velcea glanced over the adepts, nodding as it appeared the near slip had been missed. Rock finally came back to his senses, processing Verz words before revealing a stone filled grin and knowing gaze. "Oh, like that is it?" Verz glared at him, her silver eyes almost glowing. A moment''s silence had passed before she turned towards the north. "Mask up, until we achieve our objective as Huntsmen, we will follow standard protocol. Once we set the adepts on their way, we will collect their masks and any identifying items." "Told you it was going to be a cloak and dagger trial." Rock held his hand out, and Kelora reluctantly placed a golden coin in his palm. "Bet it''s going to be corrupted mission." "Tsk, you win one bet out of a hundred and think your top dog," glared Kelora as she nodded, accepting the gamble. "Enough, let''s go," shouted Verz, excitement evident in her voice, causing everyone, including Mors to frown as they broke out into a cold sweat. "What is she planning now?" BOM:S - GASW- 21.2 - Journey to Ashsqua Ancient trees, their canopies blocking out all but the most stubborn sunlight, littered the area surrounding a small clearing that had a stream bubbling through its centre. Beside the creek, four individuals stood listlessly, though to the trained eye they were watching their surroundings carefully, as they gazed at two cloaked figures circling each other slowly. "Jeeze the adepts are slow," sighed Kelora, tapping her foot with impatience. "At this rate, I am going to die of boredom and old age." "I think your observations are being tainted by- Verz''s new pet," grumbled Velcea. "You can''t go judging others by that monster. Remember, he isn''t even two years old and is already trading blows like a veteran." All of them were wearing the standard Huntsmen woodland cloak, green and brown patterns crossing it, and the Huntsmen''s infamous white, featureless mask. Only the slightly shorter figure facing off against the silver wolfkin was different. His black, jagged leather armour, breaking up his outline, and cloak set him apart from the rest. "What got your loin cloth in a twist?" rumbled Rock, in no better mood. Due to the Captain leaving with Mors to train, he had been put in charge of Huntsmen HQ, a job he abhorred. Then, just when he thought his ordeal was over, she sent him word via communication crystal that she would be at least two weeks late, over four weeks ago. A loud bang drew their attention, and they found that the smaller of the figures was flying backwards, leaving a small trail of steaming blood hanging in the air, before they slammed into the floor and rolled towards a nearby tree. A feminine, musical voice laughed as the victor slowly walked towards the downed man, watching his swaying, reptilian tail sticking out of his cloak, glistening black spikes, extremely carefully. "That was a bit of a letdown. What''s up? Stage fright?" "You old ha-" hissed Mors, slowly standing up, only to be slammed back into the tree by a kick. Verz had tried to teach Mors everything she knew, including how to irritate an enemy into making a mistake. Unsurprisingly Mors had absorbed this like a sponge, though he knew from painful experience that there was a thin line with Verz, one that he would not cross again if he could help it. Weirdly enough, it wasn''t her age or the scars on her face. Verz pinned his crumpled body to the tree with a hand as she leant in, tilting her head slightly, her ears twitching and her tail wagging under her cloak. Though most would have called it hell, during her training, the pair had become close. "Sorry, what was that? I think I misheard? I guess someone wants''s to be buried in a fire ant nest again?" "What''s that? Grandma your hearings go~ Urgggg." A punch to his gut winded the demon, cutting off his words. "Rest." Verz held Mors''eyes for a few minutes before letting him slump to the floor and walking over to the rest. "I don''t suppose you will tell me who trained those adepts in the way of the snail?" The air visible shimmered around the Huntsmen captain as her predatory gaze scanned her squad, each of them flinching. No matter how long they had known her or the life and death struggles they had faced, they could never get used to that gaze. Verz was impatient, to the point of forcing them all to move at an incredible speed. If anyone were keeping tabs on them, they would find their behaviour weird, but to the Huntsmen lieutenants, they knew the reason why and could only look at Mors with jealousy and sigh at the trouble it would cause once word got out. A couple of hundred meters away, five more figures shot through the undergrowth, moving as if they were ghosts, the only proof of their passing being the dead leaves being slightly being thrown into the air by the and the swaying of small branches. At the edge of the clearing, the group briefly stopped, eyeing those in the clearing and without sound, moving into formation. Once ready they launch forward like hawks diving on their prey. ¡°My grandmother, in the afterlife, could hear them coming from a mile away,¡± spat Rock, shaking his head in disappointment. He had been told to select the most promising adepts for this team. While his hands were tied regarding Bruce, Verz insisting he be part of the team, the others were some of the best at their specialisation. Bursting forth into the clearing, they briefly pause as the dazzling light temporarily blinded them, earning a scoff from Verz as Rock sighed, knowing that there would be repercussions. "Come on Cap, your pup is a monster. You can''t compare them to him. It''s unfair." "Lifes unfair," responded Verz in a cold, unemotional voice, ignoring the new title Rock had given Mors. She knew that if she reacted, she would never hear the end of it. It wasn''t as if the adepts were not skilled, far from it, but even before she trained Mors for six months, her standards were incredibly high. Now, however, she would probably scoff at anyone below a Duke ranking. A rank that, for normal people at least, was an unreachable dream. The new arrival''s formation looked almost like an arrow, the three in front forming a triangle, Bruce leading the way with the elves on each side. The two smaller lamia were behind them. If you were watching them head on or slightly to the side, you would only be able to see three people, making it a very nasty ambush technique. Not only do you get the surprise of their rush, but the moment they hit, it would become clear there are five instead of three and throw any hastily made plans into chaos. "Typical formation, noisy, not taking the environment into account... barely a distraction," said Verz as she crossed her arms. "Is this really the standard of my huntsmen? I think I will need to re-evaluate our trainers." "Your standards are too high," grumbled Rock, waving his hand, as five earth spears erupted from the ground in front of the approaching group, three in front of the leader and one each for the wing, causing them to slide to a halt. Kelora laughed at their pale faces, before scanning their surroundings and tilting her head as if something was missing. "Rest, we move in five," said Velcea to the adepts. She had to act before Verz as she could see they were about to collapse. The group fell to the floor, releasing their breathing techniques as they gasped for breath and pulled water canteens from their packs. They had been running for three hours straight, trying to catch up to the lead group. It hadn''t helped that Verz had purposefully led them through monster dens or left traps.This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there. Alex fell on his back as he turned his head towards Alice. "Why don''t you use your lamia form? It should be more suited for this?" "Short bursts of speed and power. Human legs are better for stamina." replied the gasping Lamia, lifting her mask slightly to whip away the sweat running down her forehead and take a drink. "Oh well," responded the elf, somewhat disappointed. "No matter, I have all the time in the world to catch a glimpse." "Not if you keep going on like that," laughed Trent, nudging Alex to look at the glaring bearkin. "This is ridiculous though." Alex quickly changed the subject. "We are going to be exhausted when we start our trial. The others got a nice, fresh start." "Oh, was that a complaint?" Verz had appeared behind them, standing in the long shadow of one of the nearby trees, causing the group to jump. "Do you think life is fair? that it will wait for you to be ready before shoving a metal rod into your mouth and bending you over?" Verz paused for a moment, looking each of them in the eye, "You think this is the worst that I can do? Well, little babies. You. Are. Wrong." Her voice turned musical as her gaze sharpened. "Oh, so~ wrong~." A chill ran down the adepts spine just as movement caught their attention. The shadows behind their Captain shuddered as if alive. Moving her arm so fast it left more than one after image, she lazily backhanded the air above the shadow, generating a bone-crunching crack. Mors'' figure flickered into existence, spinning in the air as it crashed and rolled on the ground once again. "Hopeless.... That was obviously a trap." Verz placed her hands on her hips. "Why would I move to the other side of them and stand in a shadow?" After hitting the floor more than a dozen times, Mors was able to flip himself onto his feet, sliding to a stop in an almost perfect aggressive stance. He looked like a coiled snake ready to strike. The glowing red of his dragonic eyes could be seen from the slits in his mask, giving him a haunting appearance. Slowly, he raised a hand up, holding what appeared to be a very fine, silver strand of hair. "Not ever trap is designed to be triggered. Some are just visible deterrents and," he paused, glaring at the wolfkin. "Sometimes the risk is worth the reward." The cleaning became silent; even the breeze felt like it was holding its breath. Verz body disappeared, reappearing next to Mors, who was already moving to block but everything happened so fast that even his brain struggled to compute what was going on. After hauling him to his feet, Verz slapped him on the back, hard enough for the elves, with their incredible hearing to hear the creaking of Mors'' bones before laughing and walking back to the group. "Only took you six months... good. Good. Any longer and I would have disowned you." "You *cough* would have *cough* to own me *cough* first." The congratulatory slap on the back winded Mors, but he still managed, even if it sounded pathetic, to riposte. "She looks like a cat that caught the canary," laughed Rock. Even though he was in a mood with the Captain for leaving him in the lurch, once again, he couldn''t help but smile as he saw her. It had been an age since she appeared this happy however it seemed that not everyone was happy at the sight. A low hiss to his left drew his attention, and he noticed Velcea was glaring daggers at Mors. Rock couldn''t help it. "Jealous that a little demon could do what you couldn''t?" If looks could kill, Rock would have turned to dust at the glare he received. "Shut it." Verz glanced over her shoulder at Mors, ignoring the stupified gazes of the other adepts,"Oh, and you won''t be using your abilities to heal, your body needs the practice. You need to be able to use your traits subconsciously." "Tsk," Mors hesitated for a moment before giving a shrug and sitting down to create a makeshift splint for his newly broken arm. -"I was sure I managed to hide the damage and distract her so she wouldn''t stop me healing it. Who''s the real demon here?" ¡°Captain, you broke his arm in three places!¡± Kelora laughed, moving next to the sitting demon. "When do I get to see what''s under the mask? I want to see what variant he is. " "When you''re six foot under and sprout angel wings," growled Mors. Verz ignored the two, as they started a series of deep growls and hisses, taunting each other to see if one of them were stupid enough to make the first move. The adepts who had been purposefully looking anywhere but at Mors gave a slight shiver and offered a silent collective prayer. It seemed like Verz was right, they could be in a worse state. Verz had never taken a student before, so when she announced it officially, lots of people were envious of Mors thinking he would get special treatment. Though it had only been a few hours, any feelings of envy were replaced with pity. Not only did Mors not get any special treatment, but every moment was also some sort of training. The entire journey here had been a mixture of mock battles, ambushes and what the others could only see as torture. Kelora''s shoulders slumped. "Who evolves and then doesn''t show anyone? Stupid Brat." Verz glared at the demoness causing Kelora to raise her arms in submission. "I know, new evolution, new disguise. Can''t reveal it where wandering eyes might spot him." She then mumbled under her breath. "What a load of bull... you just enjoy tormenting me." "Let''s go." Tired of waiting, Verz moved towards the clearing''s edge, the other quickly falling into formation behind her. Moments later, only Mors was left, slowly walking in the direction the Huntsmen had vanished. "Think I will hang back for a bit." Taking a deep breath, trying not to think about the punishment he would get for slacking, he launched into the forest leaving the clearing completely desolate. He soon caught up with the now slowly moving group, at least in comparison to their previous speed, and moved wide to the right-hand side. His memories from past lives, coupled with the experiences of this one made him extremely uncomfortable around others. He had begged, which was extremely hard for him as he had the sin of Pride, Verz for weeks to let him take the test on his own, but apparently, this was something out of her control as the Federation''s Council organises the trial. After an hour of travelling in silence, Verz occasionally throwing a projectile his way when she thought he wasn''t paying attention, the group came across a dirt road and started following it deeper into the forest until they stopped at the edge of a vast clearing, looking at sprawling town made up of wooden buildings in its centre. The population was only a few hundred people, but due to their unique trade, soul weapons, as well as having high mineral deposits located nearby, the place was import enough for hundreds of soldiers, merchants and researchers to flood the town on a daily basis. Dark paradise walls encircled the town, glowing in all manners of brightly coloured runes and defensive spells causing the air to almost hum when one approached. It might not be as magnificent as Alzor, but for a town, even with wooden walls, the defences were unparalleled. From the group''s position, they could only hear the bustling sounds of everyday life and see the thin streaks of smoke blemishing the beautiful, clear blue sky. ¡°Ashsqua, the birthplace of soul weapons and the only official supplier of the Huntsmen,¡± said Rock as they stepped out of the tree line and onto the road leading to the only visible entrance. Soul weapons were extremely rare and only forged for the most elite of Federations forces. They were made from a unique metal called Astorneth that¡¯s only known vein, resided deep below Ashsqua''s town centre. The group walked up to the towering gatehouse. Although made of wood it was evident that the enhancements made it stronger than Iron and would cause any wood-bee attacker a headache. One of the guards separated from his group and stepped towards them. ¡°Name and purpose of visit.¡± ¡°Captain Verz of the Pathfinders. Official business of the Federation," responded Verz as she flashed a badge and placed her hand on a stone pedestal next to the guard. The guard tried to gauge the strength of the smaller members of the group, but due to the heavy cloaks covering them and their masks, he could make out little. After analysing a small stone he pulled from his pocket, seemingly linked to the pedestal as it had the same glow, he held out his hand in an expecting manner. "Thank you, Huntsmen. Please enjoy your stay." The adepts looked around in awe, this being the first time they had seen one of the most famous towns in the world however Mors was deep in thought. -"I swear I know that guard from somewhere... How can that be possible?" BOM:S - GASW- 21.3 - Bar Fight [Draft] Book of Mors: Summoned Arc: Getting a Soul Weapon Chapter 21,Part 3:Bar Fight **************************** Letting out a sigh, Mors followed the rest of the group as they walked through a walled enclosure, designed to stall attackers if they made it past the wooden gatehouse, and into the densely packed town. For all its fame, Mors was disappointed with Ashsqua, feeling that it was a step backwards if compared to the places he had seen since arriving in Acoria. Little did he know, that the Frozen Citadel of the Ice Demons and the Wolf''s Den were on a scale that would make even the Empire''s Emperor green with envy and was almost considered national landmarks in their own right. The roads and pathways of Ashsqua were formed with compact dirt while most of the buildings were made from wood, the exception being any that dealt with flammable substances. Surrounding the edges of the buildings, poorly constructed stalls, selling everything from produce to weapons and armour, buzzed as people haggled for the best deals or got the latest gossip. Even though it was busy, Verz''s group moved through the crowd like a hot knife through butter, people almost falling over in their attempt to get out of the way of the masked Huntsmen and to avoid drawing their attention. The adepts looked around in awe. Unlike Mors, they had been training for three years at the Wolf''s Den, and this was the first time since, that they had been let out. All of them, even Bruce, was keen to do a little shopping and interact with, what they considered, normal civilians. Mors, on the other hand, was trying not to vomit in his mask. Since evolving, his senses had been on overdrive. Huntsmen prided themselves on not having a scent, mainly due to their stealth abilities, and he felt comfortable with natural smells having spent most of his time in woodland, but the pungent, acidic smelling humanoids running around the town were almost too much for him. Not to mention the amount of noise they were making. More than once, the draconic demon stumbled as he struggled with the relentless bombardment to his senses. Eventually, the pain in his head dulled and he began to taking steadying breaths and meditate as he walked. Something he recalled from a fragmented memory, limiting his external senses as he focused inwards. Feeling an odd sensation, Velcea looked back, her white mask hiding her expression, before turning back and leading them to the centre of the town with a renewed sense of purpose after muttering something to Verz. After five minutes of walking, the group reached what appeared to be a market square, and without pause, Velcea marched into an inn. The squeaking sign of a drunken goblin dancing hanging above the door. "It''s filthy in here," said Alice in disgust, however, her comment was ignored by everyone, including Verz, as they turned to look at Mors when he left out a loud sigh of relief and leant heavily against a wooden pillar trying to catch his breath. Though it wasn''t exactly the most hygienic place, at least Mors'' senses were only picking up on dozens of stimuli and not the hundreds out in the street enabling him to quickly recover. A few men, slumped against a dank bar as waitresses carried simple meals, mainly meat and potatoes, to tables. "HO, Captain. Long time no see. The usual?" bellowed a pudgy bartender, the rolls of fat in his chin jiggling as he spoke. "Grab a seat, and I''ll get you guys sorted." "Thanks, Teak," responded Verz as she waved in an offhand manner, moving towards a table and sitting down. The rest of her group followed while the adepts moved towards the only other free table, located in the corner, noticing there were not enough chairs or space with their seniors. Once Verz, Kelora, Rock and Velcea had sat down, Mors moved over and stood nearby, leaning against a wall as his head rotated in an almost unnatural manner, scanning everything in the room. Shaking her head, Verz let out a small chuckle. "Mors, go sit with your team." "They are not my team so-" Mors'' words were cut off as the pair stared at each other, the fur on Verz''s ears standing on end. Seconds ticked past before Rock started chuckling, his mouth half open as he was about to make a bet before getting death glares from Kelora and Velcea. A deep growl, barely audible emanated from Mors as his eyes momentarily glowed red before he looked away and started walking towards the adepts table. Verz laughed, the sound as gentle as a summer''s breeze, while her silver, predatory eyes watched the demon shuffle away. "That''s right." Rock snorted as he put his arms on the table in anticipation of retaliation for his next words. "He''s a draconic demon, not a pup Captain, I don''t think going alpha on him is going to work." Kelora''s chest contracted, making it look like she was having difficulty breathing as she tried not to laugh or join in. "Pfft, sure it does," replied Verz as she leant back, shocking everyone but Velcea by not getting angry at Rocks hidden suggestion. "The little idiot has been getting too full of himself lately though. Stopped trying to attack vital areas during our training and even held back a few times. Like he could actually hurt me." Kelora leant forward, her demeanour changing instantly. "What? He''s lost the will to kill?" Letting out a sigh, Verz shook her head. "Nope, if anything that part of him is getting worse. He just won''t attack me like he wants to kill me, no matter how hard I push him. It has pretty much stalled his progression." "Maybe he realises he can''t win and has given up," suggested Rock, "that or~" Rock stopped, knowing there was a line on what could be said without serious consequences, at least for himself. Two Elven waitresses appear next to the table and place four plates, with matching tankards, onto the table before giving a small bow and walking away. Kelora, who hasn''t moved since she leant forward, spoke in a hushed tone. "As a mate or familial?" Rock sighed, rolling his eyes, as Verz'' eyes locked on the demoness like an angry lioness who had just found someone pulling her tail. Verz leant towards Kelora, who''s red eyes sparkled with mischief. "I think a particular little demoness is feeling left out and wants some one on one training with their Captain." *Bang* The group turned their heads as one, looking towards the corner that the adepts were, spotting a overturned table and Mors towering over a small, blonde girl.A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. Verz sighed, feeling like she had been doing that a lot recently, and stood up. Kelora could only snigger. "Wow, you trained him well, not even twenty minutes in town and he already picked a fight with the only person in town he shouldn''t... Seems he takes after his mother." Verz glared at Kelora, causing the demoness to snort as she barely contained her laughter and Rock to join in. Velcea however, glared at her lover. "I will not share." Verz''s steps faulted as she turned back to the dark elf, who suddenly started laughing and waved off her statement as a joke. "Go, save the pup before he gets himself killed." Verz body tensed before she turned and started walking again. Rock chuckled. "I think we are going to regret this." "Damn straight you are," mumbled Verz, her keen ears still in range, as she stomped towards the scene as the inn''s other patrons backed from, or moved towards, the impending fight. A few minutes earlier... Bruce sat down slowly in his chair, rubbing his hands together. "I can''t wait to get some decent grub." "We had ''decent'' food a couple of hours ago," said Alice as she walked behind him, trailing her arm across his shoulders before taking her own seat. "You and the bottomless pit you call a stomach." "Man''s gotta eat," said Alex as he took his seat. "Anyway, any idea why we are here? Also, why is the command squad here? I thought they only head out together if the shit hits the wind mage." Claire fidgeted as she claimed the seat next to Alice. "Maybe it has something to do with Mors. He was on the Eastern Front as an adept and has been training with the Captain for months. I wonder how strong he is now? Recon he''s cute under the mask?" Alice hissed as her sister''s elbow hit her in the side. "I doubt it, and even if he was, who cares, he is a demon and, through tricks and deception, he stole the initiation rewards from Bruce. With those tokens, we could have eaten like Kings for years" Bruce snorted. "He got lucky. Even with his evolution and all the training in the world, he wouldn''t be able to repeat that stunt." Alex slumped forward. "You would be surprised. I heard that not only has he got personal training from the captain, but the reason he evolved so quickly was that they have been given him the best of everything. Spared no expense." "Who told you that?" said Trent, a mocking smile on his face. "Making stuff up again to seem in the loop?" "Got a friend in the Undercity. Said that Lieutenant Kelora was training him and he even stayed with her instead of the barracks," responded Alex dryly, clearly irritated that his friend tried to call him out. "Incoming," said Alice, her voice barely above a hiss. Mors walked over, pulling a wooden chair out before sitting on it. Bruce and Alice stiffened while Alex and Trent barely managed to resist the urge to ask Mors if he slept in the same room as Kelora. The tips of their ears going red as their minds started to wander. The awkward silence was broken by Claire, who stood so she could reach, holding out her hand to Mors. "Hey Mors. We haven''t really had a chance to introduce ourselves yet. My name''s Claire, its a pleasure to meet you." "Sure," grumbled Mors as he leant back in his chair, ignoring the outstretched hand. "So, how was the Eastern front? I heard we lost a few people, but news has been pretty quiet," Claire didn''t seem bothered by Mors'' reaction and sat down. Mors'' body tensed momentarily before he relaxed. "Can''t say, Captain''s orders." "Oh, OK," Claire looked to the others, hoping they would help with the conversation only to see they were looking anywhere but her. As if to help the struggling Lamia, who was biting her bottom lip, the waitresses appeared and delivered their meals with along with a tankard for all of them apart from Mors. "Urg, Ale," complained Alice. "Why can''t we get some wine?" Bruce chuckled, noticing Mors'' lack of drink and deciding that he was being punished for something. "I doubt a place like this would serve wine." The other adepts tapped their masks at the chin and the area around where their mouths should be distorted, enabling them to eat without removing them. "Can''t wait until we get on the road and can lose the masks," sighed Alex. "You and me both," declared Trent as he held up his tankard for the other elf to clank. "Where''s your drink Mors?" asked Claire, thinking the waitresses had forgotten about him. Bruce chuckled again. Mors'' eyes locked onto Claire for a moment, deciding if he should bother answering, before nodding his head towards the approaching waitress. "On its way." A small, clear glass, half filled with a light brown liquid was placed in front of him. "When did you ask for that?" questioned Alex, only to be ignored. "We had an option other than swill?" Mimicking the action that the adepts had done, Mors'' mask pulled back enough to allow him to drink. "Well look what the wolf dragged in." A haughty voice emanated from a small, blonde haired girl, surrounded on each side by two guards, behind them. Looking at the masks facing her, the girl frowned. ¡°Don''t you know it''s rude not to offer an open seat to a young lady such as myself?¡± Mors snorted but said nothing, seemingly enjoying his drink. "Sorry, we don''t have space for you and your friends," responded Bruce, as he turned back to his food and continued to eat. ¡°That''s fine, they can stand,¡± gleefully replied the girl as she sat down in the empty seat, between Trent and Mors. Introducing herself as Ariel, the youngest daughter of the region''s Duchess and mayor of the town, Ariel began to question the other adepts about everyday Huntsmen life. A Duchess was a powerhouse that was, at least on paper, was even stronger than their captain. So much so that they always managed a region or district in the capital. As Ariel mentioned her mother was the mayor of Ashsqua, the region was more than likely meant Flatner so the Adepts, were overly polite. Well all of them excluding Mors who continued to ignore her and the group, rocking on his chair and slowly sipping his drink, a small smile on his lips. He had smelt the familiar scent of a drink her vaguely remembered enjoying, and so as the others headed to their tables, he quickly placed an order. His only regret was that the one drink nearly bankrupted him, having not had any means to acquire money other than from collecting it from the dead. "So, Mr dark and mysterious, what''s your story?" Ariel turned her head towards Mors, tilting it slightly in an attempt to be cute. "It''s one where I ignore those that use illusions to get their twisted kicks," Mors'' mouth, visible through the hole in his mask, twisted into a smile. The adepts froze, but instead of looking hurt, Ariel''s dark green eyes sparkled with curiosity. "Oh, you dare talk to me like that?" "You insulted my intelligence first, did you not?" Mors'' head tilted, mocking the girls earlier behaviour. "Who Rocks up to a table uninvited, pretending to be something they aren''t and starts asking people about their lives?" The dark green eyes narrowed. "Interesting. What are you and how did you know?" ¡°Complicated,¡± responded Mors. "Which question?" The childish tone dropped from Ariel''s voice as it took a sharp edge. Mors shrugged, finishing his drink. "Both." "Hmm, not too smart. If you even had a clue who I am you-" "Honestly, I don''t give a flying fuck who you are. Go play dress up somewhere else," growled Mors, not letting the girl finish her threat. Claire stood and tried to calm the situation. "Hey now, there''s no need to be like-" ¡°Are you a Pathfinder Adept?¡± Ariel ignored everything else as she focused on the the man in front of her, her fingernails digging into the table without resistance. ¡°Nope, travelling saint of the church of shut the fuck up and leave me alone. I guess you have never heard of us as you are still here," responded Mors. Her right eye twitching, Ariel took a deep breath. "Look, brat. I am trying to be nice." "Look hag, so am I." A red mist started seeping from the eye slits on Mors'' mask. He was losing his patience, just like the woman in front of him. ¡°Oh I see, you must be an orphan as obviously you didn''t have parents to teach you any manners. I guess even the Pathfinders will take in strays like you. With no family and no possibility of ever being of any value to anyone or anything, it''s an honour for you to be used as cannon fodder. Luckily no one will miss you.¡± Mors responded with just a shrug. The lack of response caused the girls face to twist in anger, as her two guards paled and started to back away. Obviously, she wasn''t used to people treating her like this and the guards were more scared of her than the teens at the table. ¡°I wonder if your parents are dead or if they just abandoned you. If it''s the former, they must be spinning in their graves and begging forgiveness to the Mother of Life, if the later they must be counting their blessings for dodging such a spell.¡± Bruce chuckled as the twins stared at Ariel in shock. Normally insulting huntsmen was a sure way to earn a few scars, but due to her background, the others were not stupid and decided to let the insult slide. However, they all watched Mors, his short, explosive temper being legendary, but against all their thoughts, he didn''t attack. The elves shifted their chairs backwards as if preparing to run, their complexion matching the guards. Due to their innate abilities, they had a pretty good idea of how dangerous someone was by their movements and small signs that they could pick up on. Both Ariel and Mors screamed danger. Mors sniggered. "Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me... Especially when they are from the mouth of an old hag trying to look like a teenage bimbo. I wonder, do you pretending to be a brat or are you so god damn ugly, that you are trying to make up for your shitty youth?" *Bang* Flipping over the table, Ariel stood up, along with Mors as he felt her mana surge and a cold smile appeared under his mask as it reformed. Status Update - Not A Chapter Hi Guys and Gals, Just wanted to apologise for the looong time since the last release. Work/Home and life (I still surprise myself that I have the last one) have been hammering from all sides and I have only been able to dedicate a minimal amount of time to the pursuits or writing. As such, at least for the moment, I am focusing my efforts and, like any good slacker, have picked the easiest task first, The Summoned. I am aiming to complete The Summoned by the end of next week (28th) after which I will shift my focus to BOM, with a small sprinkling of The Forgotten Hero when I get a free moment.Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site. The main drive for this is to get The Summoned and BOM done within the next month or so (time, not calendar) and see how much ''desire'' there is for the next books (The summoned/BOM split and are completely different stories after this). If it''s not great/there are no burning pitchforks out to get me, I have been playing with an idea for a new book for months now that I might give a go first. Thanks, and sorry this isn''t a chapter BOM:S - GASW- 21.4 - Duchess [Draft] Book of Mors: Summoned Arc: Getting a Soul Weapon Chapter 21, Part 4: Duchess The Summoned Linked Chapter: 10 **************************** "I dare you to say that again, you ignorant little shit," bellowed Ariel, the features of her small face scrunching up as the adepts looked over to the Captain''s table for any hint on how they should respond. Though most of them disliked Mors, and the girl in front of them was probably one of the most influential people in flatner, or at least they believed her parents were, they felt immense pride at being Huntsmen and were barely restraining themselves from joining the fray. Spotting the Captain silently making her way through the growing crowd, moving more like a ghost than a living being, they let out a collective sigh of relief and returned their view to the impending fight. Ignoring everything around him, Mors leant forward, his mask inches from the enraged girls face. "Hmm, I think that looks suits you better. The creases look like the wrinkles a hag like you should have." "How. Dare. You," sputtered Ariel, her voice laced with killing intent as he fists clenched and unclenched. "Do you know who I am?" "Why shouldn''t I dare? There is no risk." Mors looked Ariel up and down with a disgusted face. "And should I?" continued Mors in a bored tone. "Why don''t you go have your temper tantrum outside, preferably next to a cliff, in the middle of a storm. Whi-" Mors didn''t manage to finish his sentence as Ariel punched him in the left side of his face, staggering him back as his head snapped upwards as if he was staring at the ceiling. Silence descended on the tavern as everyone stared in shock. Most knew who the girl was, and they definitely knew of the huntsmen in their infamous masks as well as what the result would be from hitting one of them, even if he was an adept, but that wasn''t the most shocking thing. It was the fact that, the girls punch, which, if she was even semi serious, should have been enough to send the man through the wall on the other side of the tavern, only staggered him. And semi serious wouldn''t even begin to describe the hit. The strike had been an extremely fast and heavy, creating a sickening crunch as it hit the magically reinforced mask, shattering the left side of it and sending the shrapnel flying across the room. The silence was crushed by a slow, easy going chuckle as Mors slowly brought his down to face Ariel. Small white chunks of the mask, their sharp edges having cut Mors'' skin fell to the floor, as the small trickles of blood hissed and turned into vapour. Though it sounded like he was laughing in good humour, the moment the single reptilian eye, the iris blazing red, locked onto Ariel, she instantly broke out into a cold sweat and took a step backwards. Mors'' glowing, draconic eye stood in stark contrast to his flawless pale, white skin, a side effect of his recent evolution, as a few strands of his short hair visible through the missing chunk of mask, ruffled as he rapidly absorbed the ambient mana around him. Unused to being in crowds, concerned about the man he felt like he should know at the gate and being forced to work with other adepts for the next year had put Mors into a foul mood. So much so that, although the experiences he had gained on the Eastern Front and during Verz''s training enabled him to grow quite a bit in mentality, he couldn''t resist releasing his frustrations baiting the woman in front of him. He was not looking for a fight, but that all changed the moment she struck him. No demon, sin of wrath or not, would take such insult lying down and that was ignoring this draconic blood that was screaming for him to raise everything, in a hundred mile radius, to the ground. Mors'' pupil narrowed as he let out a deep breath and he released his restraints. Suddenly, as if the room had been dropped into the deepest, darkest pits of hell, a terrifying chill, one that even caused a few of the patrons to stop breathing, erupted from Mors. Ariel took another step back. She knew she was stronger than the young man in front of her, one of her innate abilities allowing her to see the strength of another similar to the status stones, but her instincts were screaming at her to escape. Forcing herself to stop a few feet away, she took a breath. "What in the seven hells are you?" Most of the crowd had backed away, expecting things to turn violent after the strike but the adepts had remained close and, unlike Ariel who had the strength to resist the aura''s effects, were hit with its full force. Both elves jumped backwards; their faces pale as they ungracefully knocked tables and chairs flying in their attempt to escape while Alice whimpered as she grasped Bruce''s arm, the bearkin locking his knees and forcing himself to remain standing as despair, fear and the cold tingle of death danced through every fibre of his being. The only one who seemed to be coping, at least enough not to be completely useless, was Claire, though her skin had significantly paled and tears ran down her cheeks, hidden by her mask as she shakily sat on a nearby chair. Ignoring the adepts, and even Verz who was now approaching at a rapid rate, Mors took a slow step forward as more shards of the mask fell to the floor and the edge of his cold smile was revealed. Rage danced in the demon''s eyes as he responded to Ariel''s question. "Neither the King or the road sweeper."Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. As he was about to take his second step, A thin hand fell gently on his shoulder as Verz stood behind him, "I think that is enough Duchess Ariel. Even as the governor of Flatner, you know the trouble it will cause laying a hand on any Huntsmen, apprentice or not. I Suggest you leave. Now." A small growl rumbled from the before the Captain''s mask. "Captain Verz," Ariels eyes narrowed as she took control of her emotions. "He insulted me first, as honour di-" "Dictates," interrupted Verz, "When you find fault with an apprentice, you go to the master. Are you sure you want to continue?''" "Apprentice?" Ariel swallowed. Apprentice Huntsmen were extremely rare as only the most skilled and highly valued recruits were given a direct apprenticeship; the rest trained similarly to the military. Ariel composed herself, noticing the aura weakening as Mors took deep, calming breaths knowing that he was a single step away from being, as Verz called it, forcibly calmed which, more than likely, would result in him being unconscious for a significant amount of time. Ariel glared at the wolfkin in front of her. "So, who is his master?" Verz moved forward, standing between Mors and the Duchess, her silver eyes glowing behind her mask as he voice turned into a snarl. "Why, I am of course?" If the room was silent before, now it was a void. Huntsmen and patron stood in shocked, mute silence. The Blood Wolf, Silver Hunter, Captain of the Huntsmen and the Federations Hound had an apprentice. Ariel swallowed hard as her eyes darted between the Mors and the Captain. "He''s your heir?" "Yes," responded Verz dryly as she straightened up. "Do you still want to continue this? I would hate to replace a governor. So much paperwork." "You don''t ha-" started Ariel, only to be cut off. "Want to bet?" Though you couldn''t see her face, everyone imagined a wolfish grin behind the Huntsman''s mask. Mors'' aura sputtered out as his mind reeled in shock, instantly dissipating his rage. An apprentice in the huntsmen was not what it was for other professions. It was more similar to adopting someone into your family. A master was basically taking on the role of a parent training, looking after and taking full responsibility for their charge, even when they had complete their apprenticeship. It was a life long bond, one that was rarely broken. It also came with incredible benefits, depending on the masters rank but the biggest of all was when the master passed away, the apprentice would inherit everything. In Mors'' case, he would inherit Verz'' position. He would lead the Federation''s Huntsmen. Title and wealth meant nothing to Mors, but the fact that Verz had announced him her successor hit hard. Over the months of training, he had grown close to the wolfkin. Not close enough to even be called a friend but he would definitely be saddened if she was to die and would be compelled to avenge her. Verz gently squeezed Mors'' shoulder as she let go, a subtle sign that they would talk later. "So, do we have a problem?" The anger, replaced by fear mutated into something else as the Duchess''s eyes fell on Mors. "Sorry. Fancy joining me for a drink so we can put this ugliness behind us? My Treat." Ariel''s heart pounded in her chest. She had, if he survived long enough, just struck the future leader of the Huntsmen. Not only that, but after her punch, she could tell that young man had an incredibly powerful heritage, his strength far above what others or she could sense and her sources had told her that these were going to be taking their final trial. In the future, the man in front of her could become a powerhouse in his own right. She had to make amends, one way or another. She did not rise to the title of Duchess by being stupid. She wasn''t foolish enough to think they could become allies immediately, but getting to neutral ground, or at least confusing him on how he felt would be a good start. "I am afraid he does not have time," Verz interrupted the Duchess'' thoughts. "After he has eaten we have business to attend." Understanding flashed in Ariel''s mind. "So he is the one who is receiving a soul weapon from the master smith. It makes sense now." The adepts, who were trying to calm their nerves gasped at the mention of a soul weapon. Ariel moved her head to the side, to get a clear look of Mors. "You have definitely caught my interest. You insulted me; I hit you. Let''s call it even. You should visit me after you get your weapon. You can''t miss my house; it''s at the centre after all. Much better than an inn." Under Verz mask, her lips curled into a snarl, but her voice did not relay her anger. "Goodbye Duchess." "I''ll be off. Though I have always wanted to test my strength against the mighty Captain of the Huntsmen, I feel this is not the place. Farewell." Ariel''s image flicked and appeared next to Mors, even catching Verz by surprise, and before he could even react, she kissed his cheek before vanishing. "Stay strong handsome." Mors let out a thunderous growl that caused the hairs on everyone present to rising, including Verz. "Don''t be a stranger. Drop by anytime." Ariel''s cheery voice called out from the doorway as she laughed, blew a kiss to the enraged demon and left, her guards scrambling to follow her out the door. -"Well, that definitely wasn''t the reaction I was hoping for," mused the Duchess as she rapidly moved towards her home. Meanwhile, back in the Inn, Mors had regained his senses and leapt forward, his boots cracking the wooden floorboards. Before he had even moved two foot, he found himself slammed into the floor with Verz, sitting side saddle, on his back. "GET OFF. I am going to tear that wrenches head off." Verz laughed, adding to the unbelievable things that everyone had witnessed. "You get hit in the face and barely bat an eyelid. A small kiss on the cheek and you are ready to destroy half the town. Overreaction at all?" Mors heaved himself to his arms, creating new cracks in the floorboards as Verz watched in amusement. "Wow, who knew that your first kiss would get you so hot and bothered. Shall we do some training to let you blow off some steam?" Mors'' figure shook from the strain; then he fell to the floor. "I''ll pass." "Tsk," Verz got off his back and walked to the door. "Seems like you lost your spine during our training." Mors slowly got to his feet. "I think having it crushed into a powder and scattered to the wind would be more appropriate. I''m not as stupid as you think I am." "You use to be so easy to taunt," Verz shook her head. "Maybe I should give you a kiss too," whispered Verz before turning and walking back to her table. Mors stopped and glared at the Captain, the air starting to shimmer around him. "Hmm, Nah, you are not my type," chuckled Verz as she returned to her seat and gulped down the rest of her drink, secretly thanking the gods that the situation had been averted, even if she was forced to reveal one of her plans ahead of schedule. Sitting down to continue her meal she looked around, her voice turned cold. "What?" Everyone, including the Tavern''s staff, jumped into life, not wanting to look at Verz and made a point of talking about anything other than what just happened. "Umm," Rock said, "Captain, what happened to keep a low profile?" "Or consulting us before you make stupid, public declarations," interrupted Velcea, crossing her arms over her chest. Verz looked up, mischief dancing in her eyes. "Sometimes you have to hit while the anvils hot." Kelora shuffled in her seat before meeting her captain''s gaze. "Just what in the seven hells did you teach him? That hit would have sent Rock sprawling on his arse. I felt the pressure from here." Verz shrugged. "Too much it seems. I wish he would keep his mouth shut sometimes. Looks like I will need to take him camping tonight. The Duchess isn''t one to let a potential asset go easily and staying in town is just asking for trouble." The other huntsmen looked at their captain with a dull, look whos talking stare to which she glared at Rock, almost knowing what he was going to say. "Don''t Rock. I don''t want to force Kelora to carry you back to headquarters and I am not in the mood." "When are you?" glared Velcea, as she slouched in her chair. Update, Schedule plan and Patreon Hi All, First of all, I wanted to say a huge thank you for the support, constructive criticism, ideas and most, for being such an awesome reader base. I would also like to give a massive shout out to Felix, who has provided an awesome new cover for BOM. (See below) Felix, you rock! I am really sorry that updates have been very few and far between recently. Life, like always, manages to find a way to ruin the best-laid plans and as I have been writing for fun, it has been extremely easy to put writing to the bottom of the priority pile. With twins and trying to run a company, my time has never been more ''valuable'' *laughs at self* and so I have tried to implement a new ''ranking'' system. My new schedule for all my works will be to aim to release a chapter a week, however, priority will be given to the works that havePatreon support.Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. This means I will work on those that have secured funding first (on a weekly basis, resetting at the beginning of every month), and then the others secondary. This should mean that I focus on the most popular works instead of just doing the chapters ''that I feel like'' but in the likely event that there are no pledges, I will stick to a round robin system. I understand pledging isn''t everyone''s cup of tea but worry not. Sponsors of my works will only have the chapters available 48 hours before I release them here on RRL. Below is my planned schedule:
Once Human Ongoing
The Forgotten Hero Publishing new chapters from the 31st of October
The Book of Mors: Summoned Publishing new chapters from the 20th of September
If you have any questions or concerns, please send me a PM. Once again, thank you for being awesome and giving me the confidence to continue writing. Status Update - Indefinite hiatus Hi All, I just wanted to say thanks to all those who have read BOM and have been waiting patiently for an update/continuation. I had planned on completing the six or seven chapters before the end of the book (Ending at the start of the Huntsmen trials), however, life (and motivation) just hasn''t given me a chance. The idea was to complete then start preparing the book for an e-book but due to life/work commitments, I can safely say that this will not be happening in the next 3-5 years. It also didn''t help that BOM is a re-write of The Summoned, which locked down the story somewhat (and felt like I had already written). With this in mind, I am putting BOM on Indefinite hiatus. When I get the rare moment to write, I want to focus my efforts on a more enjoyable (at least for me) area. If all goes according to plan, and things settle down in the future, (Involved in an intense 5-year tech startup) when I sell up and make my ''millions'', I will settle down and use my time to write/finish and publish my works. For those who would like to know how Book 1 ends, please read the spoiler below: Spoiler: Spoiler Mors accompanies Verz and gets his custom-built, duel element weapon (same as The Summoned). Surprising the forge master, Mors takes an active role in the process, using his darkness attribute to absorb the heat in the room and temper the weapon. Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation. Not staying with the others due to the disturbance in the inn earlier, Mors and Verz leave the town only to be ambushed by the countess and her lackeys. The Countess wants to capture Morz, his attitude and body attracting her curiosity. After failed negotiations, in which the Countess attempts to ''Buy'' Mors, Verz fights and kills the Countess and co. Retreating to the woods near the rendezvous point, Verz reflects on her actions, knowing that killing the countess is going to create a lot of trouble in the future. Drinking to help ''forget'' her worry, Verz realises that the reason she acted, which was considerably out of character for her, was because since she had known Mors, back at the summoning, and then on the battlefield, as well as the intense training after, he had gained a unique, special place in her heart, triggering her motherly instincts. Continuing to drink, Verz opens up to Mors and tells him her story (Same as The Summoned). Mors has also bonded with Verz over their travels but only as a companion. Seeing Mors so reluctant, and under the influence of copious amounts of alcohol, Verz declares that she is adopting Mors, officially making him her family and successor. Mors is shocked and tries to discover a hidden plot but relieved of the burden she had been subconsciously carrying, Verz is struck with the need to train Mors as much as she can before he leaves for his trial. The next morning, the others wait for Mors and Verz, only for them to appear fighting each other. It appears that Mors lost a best, one that would make Verz keep her plead to adopt him and make him a successor, a secret, and so, she openly tells the others. The other huntsmen respond in varying ways, but none positive and as they finally separate and the trial starts. (End of book one). Thanks again and sorry for the disappointing news, All the best, Skada.