Zaria stumbled towards the cluster of tents and caravans, each footfall leaving a scorched imprint on the earth, a testament to the power coursing through her and rapidly consuming her with each and every breath becoming heavier.
A chilling, mechanical voice echoed in her mind. Warning: You have exceeded physical power output. Nethril levels critically low.
"What is Nethril?" she gasped, the words forming in her mind.
Nethril is an energy, similar to Mana. Mana is the free-flowing energy of the world, manipulated to create magic. Nethril is…
A searing pain tore through her chest, forcing her to her knees. The world swam, a dizzying kaleidoscope of pain and fading light.
"What's happening?" she cried internally.
You have exceeded the power output of this physical body. Continuing will result in failure of your goal.
"I don't care if I die!" Zaria gritted her teeth, pushing herself back up. "I have to save Lily."
Each step was agony, a fresh wave of pain radiating from her chest. She clutched a tree for support, her scaled arm scraping against the rough bark. The scales, once vibrant and strong, now disintegrated into black ash, carried away by the whispering evening breeze.
The disintegration spread, a horrifying, inexorable tide. She fell to her knees, then to her stomach, the earth a cold comfort against her burning skin. Her tail, once a powerful extension of her being, dissolved into nothingness. Still, she crawled trying to bear the pain
Would you like me to suggest an alternative that will guarantee survival?. The voice was emotionless, a stark contrast to the inferno consuming her.
Zaria propped herself against a tree, her breath ragged. "What is it? And what are you?"
My Designation is: K.H.A.O.S. Function: King's Havoc Automata Operating System. Assessment: Your survival probability is negligible. Recommendation: Cease current course of action. [Khaos Engine initiating standby mode].
"I refuse!" Zaria roared, the sound raw with desperation. Tears streamed down her face, mingling with the dust and grime. "I won't let her die. I need power! I can't give up now!" Her limbs grew numb, her movements becoming jerky and uncontrolled.
Request for power initiated. [System Menu Opened: Displaying power saving mode options].
Power conservation protocols activated. Displaying optimized solutions for survival:
[Summoning]: Deploy random monster allies. Probability of success dependent on remaining Nethril reserves.
[Berserk]: Override physical limitations. Temporary power surge. Guaranteed fatality upon deactivation. Go out with a bang!
[Hades]: Engage self-immolation sequence. Transform into Ifrit, Demon General of Fire. Warning: Extreme pain guaranteed. Not recommended for fleshy beings. Likely terminal.
[Watch an Ad]: Replenish Nethril levels through sponsored cognitive immersion. Experience a thrilling narrative from a parallel dimension! Side effects may include: existential confusion, sudden cravings for foodstuffs not found in this reality, and the unsettling realization that your life choices are being monitored by a hyper-intelligent shade of blue. Try it now!
Please choose an option. Your continued existence is... statistically improbable.
The last option, bizarre and out of place, caught her attention. With a desperate shrug, she pushed the shimmering screen away from herself as she was skeptical of these options which had weird explanations.
"I need to go help Lily," she croaked, her voice barely a whisper, clawing at the dirt, her legs useless. "She's my friend… She's family."
Friend class selected. Family attribute selected.
"Shut up!" she screamed, the sound choked with pain and frustration, dragging herself forward with a single, failing arm.
Command accepted. You have entered Friend and Family mode. Now generating randomized monster companions to fight in your place.
Warning: System error. Failed to summon friend monster and family monster. Combining attributes.
Synthesis Complete: Family and Friend variants have been merged to create Guardian.
Success: Guardian has evolved to spirit level monster: Mother.
A dark purple portal ripped through the fabric of reality, pulsating with an otherworldly energy. A figure emerged, serene and imposing, as the portal snapped shut.
The woman was a vision in white: a flowing robe, a cascading cape, a large bead necklace, and a porcelain crown adorned with a black rose and a concealing veil. Her gloved hands were clasped in prayer. She knelt before Zaria, her presence radiating an unsettling calm.
"Greetings, Master. I am Mother. What seems to be the problem?" Her voice was melodic, yet devoid of warmth.
Zaria, helpless and broken, felt herself being lifted. Mother rested her against a tree, her gaze directed towards the distant camp.
"Mother now awaiting instruction," the figure said, her voice now monotone, swaying gently.
A weak grin spread across Zaria's face. "Kill them all," she rasped, her voice thick with pain and vengeance. "And save Lily."
"Mother shall execute your command. Please recover as I ensure Lily's safety." Mother moved with an unnatural grace, weaving through the undergrowth as if she were a part of the forest itself.
"Hey, is it me, or is someone coming towards us from the forest?" a bandit muttered, his hand instinctively resting on the hilt of his sword.
His companion scoffed. "Who's dumb enough to walk all the way from the city to our camp? Besides, Grim and the other guy are out there. They wouldn't let anyone near."
A figure stumbled from the trees, wheezing and distraught. She knelt before the bandits, her voice laced with panic and grief. "Please help me! My daughter… she was taken. I followed her, hair… she has white hair… her name is Lily."
The confident bandit stepped forward, while his worried companion backed away. "Listen, lady, if you want your daughter, you'll have to buy her. This is a slave market." He kicked dirt at her face, but she shielded herself with her hands, protecting her veil.
"Man, I don't trust this," the other bandit whispered, his voice laced with unease. "How did she even get here? And why does she look like some sort of priestess?"
As the first bandit moved to kick her, a chilling voice echoed from beneath the veil. "Would you ever hurt your mother?"
He paused, confused. "What?"
Slowly, the veil lifted, revealing a face of porcelain beauty, framed by long white hair and piercing purple eyes. The eyes contorted, shifting, morphing… until the face was a perfect replica of his own mother's.
He stumbled back, his face a mask of horror. "No! What the hell are you?"
"My son," Mother said, her voice a chilling imitation. "It's me. Your mother." She rose, reaching out to him.
"No!" he shrieked, drawing his sword. "Why do you sound just like her?!"
In a blink, Mother was upon him. A swift, brutal kick snapped his neck, sending his body flying through the air to land slumped against a tree, paralyzed and staring in terror. Mother landed gracefully, a macabre ballerina on a moonlit stage, her robes swirling around her.
"My son," she said, a gentle, yet devilish smile twisting her borrowed features. "You break your mother's heart. And now… you have broken your neck."
The other bandit, witnessing the horrific scene, charged, his sword flashing in the moonlight. He leaped, aiming for Mother's head.
Mother's eyes glowed with an otherworldly light. Her face shifted again, morphing into the image of the charging bandit's mother.
"Ara ara," she cooed, her voice sickly sweet. "My dear son, isn't it hot outside? Why not take all that off and rest?"
The bandit froze mid-air, suspended as if by invisible strings. "What the fuck did you do to me?" he cried, struggling against the unseen force. "I can't move!"
"Good children always listen to their mothers," Mother whispered, her voice laced with menace. "Now obey Mother's wishes. Activate skill: Master of Puppets."
The bandit's sword clattered to the ground. He began to undress, his movements jerky and involuntary.
Mother's face returned to its original form, the veil falling back into place. She stood below the now-naked bandit, her hands clasped in prayer.
"So you think stripping me and emasculating me will make me give up?" the bandit snarled, his earlier fear replaced by rage. "You little mimicking bitch! I will kill you!"
"Watch closely, my child," Mother whispered, her eyes fixed on the dangling figure glowing through the veil. "This is where the fun begins."
The bandit clawed at his chest, his fingernails scraping against bone as he tried desperately to obey Mother's command. His face, once smug and cruel, contorted into a mask of primal terror. His ragged breaths came in heaving sobs, each one a testament to the sheer agony tearing him apart from the inside. The stench of blood and viscera filled the air, a metallic tang that sent a wave of nausea through Zaria.
"Hush, child," Mother croaked, her voice a grotesque parody of comfort. "Big boys don't cry. Show Mother how brave you are."
His trembling fingers, slick with his own blood, found his throat. He dug deep, ripping and tearing at his flesh with the desperation of a man possessed. A wet, strangled gasp escaped his lips – the sound of a dying animal.
The earth beneath them grew slick with crimson, reflecting the moonlight in sickening pools. Mother stood unflinching, her white robes now stained a grotesque crimson, her face illuminated by the chilling spectacle.
His hands moved to his face, fingers tracing the lines of his own agony as if mapping his descent into madness. With each handful of flesh torn away, a new wave of guttural sound choked from his throat, a symphony of pain and despair. The cool night air thickened with the metallic scent of blood, the forest holding its breath as if the very trees themselves were repulsed by the scene unfolding before them.
"I will give you a choice," Mother purred, her words dripping with false sweetness, her voice a stark contrast to the horrific tableau before her. "Would you like to continue, or end it all, my child?"
His head snapped back and forth, a gruesome parody of a nod, as if some part of him, however small, clung desperately to the hope of release.
His breathing grew shallower, his chest rattling with each inhale. Zaria, watching from the shadows, felt her own stomach churn. She had sought vengeance, craved it even, but this… this was beyond anything she could have imagined.
"You have three seconds to decide…" Mother's voice was devoid of emotion, a chilling pronouncements that echoed in the stillness of the night.
Suddenly, with a strength borne of pure desperation, the bandit's hand flew to his head. His eyes met Zaria's for a fleeting moment, and in them, she saw a flicker of pleading, a silent, desperate plea for salvation from the torment. And then, with a sickening crack that echoed through the silent forest as he twisted his own neck, his torment ended. His lifeless body swayed gently, suspended by an unseen force, blood dripping from his toes, a grotesque testament to the depths of Mother's cruelty.
Mother's serene facade never faltered. She brought her blood-stained hands together in a mockery of prayer. "Sleep well, my child," she whispered, her voice a chilling whisper in the night. "Sanctify."
As the purple and white flames erupted, consuming the body in a horrifying pyre, Zaria averted her gaze, unable to bear the sight any longer. The smell of burning flesh, acrid and unforgettable, filled the air, a testament to the price of her vengeance.
Mother turned, her movements fluid and graceful, a stark contrast to the carnage she had wrought.
Her gaze fell upon the remaining bandit, paralyzed and helpless. Zaria could only imagine the terror that must have gripped him, knowing the fate that awaited.
"Oh yes," Mother whispered, her voice a chilling caress. "I had forgotten about you."
Her robe parted, revealing a chest with full breasts as white as porcelain. A vertical fissure opened, revealing rows of jagged teeth leading into a gaping maw. She pulled the bandit's face towards her chest, his eyes brimming with tears of terror. The crunching of bone and the gushing of blood filled the night air, reaching Zaria's ears and sending waves of nausea through her weakened body.
The sight of Mother's true form, the gaping maw hidden beneath her pristine facade, was burned forever into Zaria's memory. As the sounds of crunching bone and gurgling blood echoed through the forest, she finally understood the terrible price of the power she had unleashed.
Devour has been activated through familiar. Nethril levels now rising.
Strength surged back into Zaria's limbs.
"Gochisosama," Mother whispered, her voice satiated. "Thank you for the food." She closed her robe and turned towards the tents and cages.
Zaria, still weak but recovering, followed at a distance, her mind reeling from the horrific display.
What manner of devil did I summon?. She thought to herself
As Mother approached the camp, bandits and mercenaries emerged, alerted by the commotion. Zaria retreated, leaning against a tree as Mother became encircled.
Malik, naked except for a strategically placed cloth, emerged from his tent with his guard. He laughed, a cruel, lascivious sound. "Whoever this woman is, beat the shit out of her and bring her to my tent. I'd like to savor her before I put her on the slave market." He licked his lips, gesturing towards Mother's chest. He turned and returned to his tent, where Lily was held captive.
Mother clenched her fists, her posture radiating menace. "Indeed," she hissed, lifting her veil. "You children need to be disciplined. To all those who value their lives, be warned. I am Mother, the Heart Eater and Goddess of Fertility." Her pale face and dimly lit purple eyes sent a shiver of fear through the assembled men.
The men, their bravado crumbling, recoiled, their swords trembling as they pointed them at Mother. The forest floor, littered with broken branches and fallen leaves, seemed to hold its breath. The air crackled with a palpable tension.
One bandit, fueled by false courage, stepped forward. "Come on, guys, it's just a weak demon. All of us can take it," he sneered, a smug grin plastered across his face.
Another, seizing the opportunity, charged from behind, his longsword whistling through the air towards Mother's back. A feral scream, meant to be intimidating, escaped his lips.
The sound, however, only served to alert Mother. Her hands shot up, and in the same instant, thick, gnarled chains erupted from the earth, snaring the attacker's neck and limbs.
He struggled, his scream turning into a choked gurgle as the chains tightened, digging into his flesh. They yanked him back, forcing him to his knees behind Mother.
She spun, her gaze cold and unforgiving. The bandit's face, contorted in a rictus of pain and defiance, held no fear.
Mother approached him, her movements deliberate and slow. With a single, powerful clap, a shockwave rippled outwards, cleaving the very air itself. The force of the blow was immense, a sonic boom that echoed through the trees, splitting whole trees in two like twigs.
The other bandits watched in horrified silence.
The charging bandit's body immediately stopped moving as his eyes rolled slowly rolled behind his head he split vertically, the two halves tumbling to the ground, slick with blood and viscera.
The silence that followed was punctuated only by the drip, drip, drip of gore onto the forest floor.
A mercenary stepped forward, his face impassive. "You think that weak display of power would frighten the likes of me?" he challenged, his voice laced with contempt. "Bring it on, witch."
Mother turned, her expression unreadable. With a flick of her wrist, more chains snaked out, aiming to bind the mercenary.
He charged, his sword a blur of motion, light streaks flashing as he sliced through the oncoming chains. He stood amidst the falling links, a smug grin on his face.
Mother gritted her teeth, taking a step back.
"Oh no," he taunted, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Don't tell me you plan on running away. The fun has just begun!" He lunged towards her, his sword raised high.
"ICE LANCE!" Mother cried, her hand thrust forward. A spear of ice, sharp and jagged, shot towards the mercenary's throat.
He deflected it with contemptuous ease splitting it in two with his quick sword play, his speed increasing with each step. "Too slow…" he snarled, closing the distance between them.
Mother, her patience wearing thin, charged.
"Typical monster…" the mercenary whispered. He immediately vanished, reappearing behind Mother. His sword plunged into her back, erupting from her chest in a spray of black, viscous fluid.
"Ah, so you don't bleed," he observed calmly, twisting the blade. Mother coughed, a torrent of black ichor spewing from her mouth. "Nevertheless, you're already dead." He pushed the sword deeper, forcing Mother to her knees.
She looked down at the protruding blade, her hands trembling as she reached for it. The mercenary signaled to another bandit, who tossed him a serrated dagger. He placed it against Mother's throat.
Understanding her fate, Mother turned her gaze to Zaria, a faint, gentle smile gracing her lips.
The mercenary ripped off her crown and veil, revealing her long, white hair. He grasped it tightly, his other hand sawing at her neck with the dagger.
Her screams echoed through the night, a chilling counterpoint to the mercenary's manic laughter. Black blood gushed onto his face, his expression one of perverse delight. With a final, gruesome saw, he held her severed head aloft, the bandits erupting in cheers.
"Impressive, but pathetic," the severed head rasped, its eyes fixing on the mercenary. A malevolent grin spread across its lips. "Die and become Nethril for my master!"
MOVE!
As if propelled by an unseen force, Zaria burst from the bushes. She slid, grabbed the fallen crown, and placed it on her head.
The bandits, startled, drew their swords, aiming them at her.
"Become slaves of our empire! Master of the Soul!" the severed head shrieked. Instantly, every person within range – bandits, mercenaries, even the caged slaves – collapsed to their knees, clutching their throats as searing slave pact seals burned into their flesh. Their screams filled the night, a horrifying chorus of pain and despair.
The severed head tumbled to the ground, rolling towards Zaria. She picked it up gently.
"I hope I made you proud, Master," it whispered, disintegrating into white ash.
Zaria surveyed the scene, her heart pounding in her chest. Every person before her knelt in agony, even the powerful mercenary who had moments before seemed invincible.
A wave of euphoria washed over her, a feeling of power so intense it was intoxicating. She laughed, a chilling sound that echoed the screams of the suffering. Power surged through her veins, a dark and exhilarating rush.
Grinning, she strode towards Malik's tent, its protective barrier shimmering faintly.
"DECAY!" Zaria roared, the word a guttural expulsion of rage. The barrier shimmered, fractured, then exploded in a shower of iridescent shards. She ripped open the tent flap, the force of her entry sending the heavy canvas billowing inwards.
The stench of sweat, sex, and fear hit her like a physical blow. Malik, his pale, flabby flesh glistening in the flickering lamplight, was still thrusting himself upon Lily, her small body limp and unresponsive beneath him.
Her white hair, usually so vibrant, was matted and dull, her face a mask of drugged stupor. Malik's eyes, glazed with lust, widened in shock and then narrowed in fury as he saw Zaria.
His guard, a hulking brute with a scarred face and a vacant expression, stood by, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword, a silent observer to the depravity.
"How the fuck did you get in here!?" Malik bellowed, his voice thick with rage, his pleasure interrupted. He shoved Lily's legs aside, scrambling to cover himself with a discarded piece of cloth. "No matter! Take care of her!"
The guard's hand tightened on his sword hilt. He drew the blade, the steel singing softly as it left the scabbard, and advanced towards Zaria, his movements deliberate and menacing.
He stopped abruptly, a flicker of unease crossing his brutal features. The air around Zaria thrummed with a palpable energy, a dark aura of bloodlust and vengeance that made even the hardened guard hesitate.
Zaria stood, her fists clenched so tightly that her knuckles were white, her gaze locked on Lily's violated form. Her breathing was ragged, each inhale a choked gasp, each exhale a hiss of fury.
The tent felt too small, the air too thick, the silence punctuated only by Malik's whimpering pleas and the guard's uneasy shifting.
"What are you doing?" Malik shrieked, his voice laced with panic, his earlier bravado gone. "Kill the bitch so I can get back to business!" He reached for Lily again, his hand trembling with a mixture of lust and fear.
A chilling chuckle escaped Zaria's lips, a low, menacing sound that echoed in the confined space. "Master of Puppets" she whispered, the words imbued with a terrifying power.
Both Malik and his guard froze mid-motion, their bodies rigid, their eyes wide with terror. They were puppets now, their strings held by Zaria's will.
Zaria stepped past the frozen guard, her eyes never leaving Lily. She gently lifted the girl, cradling her close, her touch a stark contrast to the violence that had just transpired. Lily's body was limp, her breathing shallow, her skin clammy. Zaria carried her towards the tent exit, her steps measured and deliberate. At the threshold, she paused, turning back to the guard, a cruel glint in her eyes.
"Do it," she commanded, her voice dripping with venom, each word a poisoned dart.
The guard's eyes, still filled with the terror of his enforced paralysis, flickered towards Malik. He dropped his sword, the clang of metal against the tent floor echoing in the sudden silence. He turned to face Malik, his hulking form looming over the cowering man. His shadow, distorted and grotesque in the lamplight, fell across Malik's terrified face.
Zaria stretched out her hand, and a small, black portal opened, swirling with a malevolent energy. Grim's severed head, its eyes still wide with the shock of death, tumbled out, landing with a sickening thud between Malik's legs. The blood, now congealed and black, stained the expensive carpet.
"A present for you," Zaria said, her voice flat and devoid of emotion. "Hope you like it."
The guard, his movements jerky and unnatural, unbuckled his pants, letting them fall to the ground, revealing his thick, engorged member.
"Hey! What the hell are you doing?" Malik shrieked, his voice a high-pitched wail of terror. His eyes bulged as he saw the guard's 'long, thick battle spear'.
The guard knelt, his movements brutal and efficient. He flipped Malik onto his stomach, pulling his hair back, exposing his pale, trembling buttocks. He spat between Malik's clenched cheeks, the sound thick and wet in the suffocating silence.
"What the fuck are you doing, man! Stop! I order you to stop!" Malik's screams were filled with pure, unadulterated terror, his pleas reduced to animalistic whimpers.
The guard waited, holding Malik in this precarious position, his eyes fixed on Zaria, awaiting further instruction.
Lily, cradled in Zaria's arms, stirred slightly. She whispered weakly, her voice barely audible above Malik's desperate pleas, "Do it…"
Zaria turned and exited the tent, leaving Lily's tormentor to his fate. The screams that followed were so horrific, so filled with agony, violation, and degradation, they would make even the gods recoil in disgust. They were a symphony of suffering, a testament to Zaria's newfound power and the depths of her rage. They were a promise of vengeance fulfilled.
Outside, the others remained bound by the curse.
Mission complete. Now completing your request to "Kill them all."
Black flames erupted from the slave pact seals, consuming everyone in their path. Bandits, mercenaries, slaves… all burned alike.
Zaria watched in stunned silence. "What's going on? Aren't the slaves innocent? What the hell is going on!"
I am merely following your instructions. Now teleporting you back to the barracks.
"No! Not yet! We need to save these peo…"
Zaria's words were cut short as she dissolved into ethereal light, vanishing along with Lily, leaving behind a scene of unimaginable carnage.
Perched high within a tree a solitary raven watched all the events of the evening as they unfolded, its dark eyes reflecting the inferno below.