Shrieks of anger and surprise echoed out from the swarm as I instantly took in the sight of the ambushing pack of ishabaaks. There were at least 20 of the beasts, and they were nearly impossible to detect before they struck.
I rushed over to the site of the nearest attack, but was too slow to stop the ishabaak from somehow pulling its keelish prey down into the sand, where a garbled, muffled shrieking slowly died out. My [Combatant's Bloodlust] active and my blood chilled, I waited for the beast to resurface. Somewhere behind me, I could hear Took wordlessly screaming in challenge to something before barking out orders. I shook myself, forcing focus on the task at hand before shouting out commands with the influence of [Innervating Address].
"Brace! Stay together! Ensure you are all ready for whatever appears! Don't leave anyone alone!" My words echoed through the clearing and I saw my confused subordinates gather and prepare themselves, eyes focused on the ground and ready for ambushers. In solidarity we stood, waiting for a rumble, a shifting of sand, something to anticipate the approach of our prey.
There was nothing. No sand falling, no sound, no… wait. Immediately I cursed my idiocy and focused wholly on [Tremorsense]. There was a small divot appearing in the sandy expanse, and I, trusting my instincts and the tickling nudges from my [Skill], lunged forward in low sweeping uppercut with my claws extended. Just in time to have my claws and then my fingers sink deep into the soft flesh below the ishabaak's jaw. With a roar of exertion, I hauled the beast out of the sand and, without hesitation, ravaged its soft belly with my jaws. Its thick blood coated my face as I ripped through viscera, the blood coagulating and wetting the loose sands underfoot.
Unfortunately for me, this one was larger, stronger, and much hardier than the rest. Most others were about 8 feet long, while my prey stretched to at least 14 feet. I couldn't be sure as its tail remained under the sands as I devoured bite after bite of its internals. Finally, I found what must have been its heart and, with a roar of effort, I ripped that most important organ from its body. The beast flopped to the ground, gasping, but I couldn't enjoy the victory, instead whirling and reacting to another attempted ambush with a slam of my tail that knocked it out of the dirt.
Not allowing myself to begin the feast, I instead, with just two quick bites, ripped the viscera from the dying ishabaak's abdomen. I left it bleeding and flopping on the dirt as I rushed towards the main group of the ambushers. The brown fishlike beasts were snapping wildly at a slightly exposed group of keelish that had been separated in the initial assault. Different from other fish and reptiles I'd seen before, the ishabaaks had no scales, only a rough, sandy skin that somehow burst with air when I punctured it. Whatever the reason for the scales' shape and texture, though, they were easy to rip through with both my claws and fangs. Their mouths, however, bristled with sharp teeth and could open wide enough to eat a regularly sized keelish nearly whole.
With the element of surprise fading, the swarm finally found its ground to hold in order to protect itself safely from the attack. As my subordinates gathered and circled warily, I pulsed my magic to my throat, the flow comfortable and immediate as I again spoke whilst pulsing my magic to the tune of [Innervating Address],
"We are many! Stay with your pack and don't let them drag any under! No fewer than ten per group!" I reminded as the ishabaaks' fierce initial assault died down.
Growls and shrieks of affirmation filled the air as the packs redoubled their attempts to gather together in larger and larger groups to rally against the ishabaak's approach. Even so, there were still choruses of groans of pain and flecks of blood flying, the low roar of flames bursting and the earth heaving lending to the general chaos and obvious danger… To ensure that we could treat one of our keelish, we needed to keep them aboveground. I immediately refocused myself on my [Tremorsense] while Joral's voice cut through the din of rallying troops and battle,
"Stay near the water!" Near him a flood began to flow from the Wave Wolfstags and into the surrounding sand. It stuck together while the ishabaaks began to flee from the approaching sandy mud. One was caught in the thicker earth and found itself pressing its nose desperately into the unforgiving sand while enraged keelish surrounded and began to devour the still-living shark. The ishabaak's blood mixed and flowed with the water onwards towards the still dry sand.
Seeing the ishabaak change their approach and begin to escape, I pulsed sonic waves into the earth in a bid to stop them. Instead of causing any damage or visible discomfort, I internally saw a clear picture of what surrounded me and filled the earth below: my swarm bled and suffered from the attack of the ishabaak, Sybil, Shemira, and the wolfstags stood behind me, Joral ripped into his latest prey still thrashing on the ground, the [System] notification–the [System]!
[Skill: Tremorsense advanced.]
I guessed that was what I just did. Yet, I couldn't bring myself to care about it as the swarm gathered together on the solid, wet sand. Sybil, alongside Joral, was directing the wolfstags to continue providing more water as the wounded were brought to Vefir and Etra for healing if they needed it, or more mundane treatment by those trained by the two healers if their wounds were less severe. Gathered together, the swarm was about 325 strong without counting the wolfstags, and more khatif evolved by the day. There was just enough space for us, and I could feel that the ishabaak were slowly retreating away from our bastion of damp safety.
As I looked to see if any of my elite had died, I realized that there were hundreds whose survival meant nothing to me. This was my swarm, I was the reason for its existence, and a part of me enjoyed that there were those who depended on me. Every keelish provided value, but not all were equally valuable. Vefir's death would mean dozens, if not hundreds more. But, less humanely than that, I didn't care about those new to my leadership or especially those who still couldn't evolve to khatif. The ever dwindling human part of me screamed that all lives should be treated with equal value, but my conscious thought couldn't agree. I didn't mourn the death of the eleven at the hands of the Misti Hawar, though I lamented the loss of my people.
Finally, with a conscious thought, I dismissed the last part of my humanity and fully embraced all of what I had become.
Keelish. Khatif. Alpha. Leader. Ruler. Monster.
"Casualty report!" I called out, looking across the assembled members of my elites. Sybil stepped forward, "We lost three to the ambush, five wounded, no individuals of import." I noted the blood streaked across her sandy scales, none her own, but all that of her prey. Trai flared her frills in agreement with her mouth hung open and panting, her body painted with gore.
"Joral, any casualties for the wolfstags?"
"No, no injuries either."
"Perfect, they seem to be our passage out of here, so, thank you for your quick thinking."
Joral looked to Sybil who didn't react but to continue staring at him. After looking between her and me, eventually, he flared his frills in acceptance as a wide smile cracked his face.
I nodded, and, for the sake of the swarm, raised my voice. "Considering what they were, we came out of that about as well as could be expected. Well done." I could hear slaps on the back and muttered congratulations spread through the swarm as I continued, "Grab all the meat you can reach and we'll lead the swarm back to the firmer earth these creatures don't seem to be able to traverse. Beta, you're in charge of creating and maintaining a clear, wet path out of the sand. We'll leave immediately after we gather the bodies."
The swarm, with our blood already pumping, was quick to gather what spoils there were from the fight and follow the path the wolfstags created. It wasn't long before the sparsely grown grasses in sand were replaced with the dense foliage of the grasslands that grew up to and past my head. With my first steps onto the firm earth, I sighed while feeling something strange through my improved [Tremorsense]. With a glance back at what we had escaped, I sighed in relief; there was nothing to gain from following through such a dangerous habitat.
"We will give up the chase for now," I announced to the swarm in Keelish. "The cowardly spies will be allowed a brief release from our hunt, but they will be brought to heel." Dissatisfied shrieks and grunts agreed with me as I transitioned to speak in the common tongue, "Now, what can we do for you, the natives to the area?"
A large head with massive ears framing it pushed through the grass to approach. Two tusks jutted forward from its mouth and a serpentine trunk dangled down its face as the stranger leaned forward in to look at me. With a sonorous basso voice, thickly accented common tongue responded, "Well now, that is surprise."