The Mook Maker

So many voices. 

 

Thousands of them heaved in unison, filled with anguish and hate, for one of their own had been disconnected from their ever-present choir. 

 

All spoke at once. 

 

They liked it this way, I could sense it, them chirping in the constant buzz of soundless communication. 

 

So many of them, all united in a single emotion, countless synapses firing at once. 

 

I couldn’t bear the echo inside of my skull, forcing me to stay on my knees, fighting the throbbing sensation that threatened to overtake me.

 

Yet, I didn’t want to stop them, to silence them.

 

They hated it. We hated it.

 

The screaming of the humans that burned when the ‘Purifiers’ focused their fire on the source of the disturbance, to end it once and for all.

 

We agreed the cause had to be removed. 

 

I shook my head in an attempt to clear my mind, to focus on something other than the voices of my girls, finally understanding what was behind their quietness and the repeating chants. They spoke, in fact, even if it seemed they didn’t, almost constantly, feeling solace found in constant noise rather than quiet.

 

The announcement, silent among all the madness, monochromatic and dull came out, and with it, a satisfaction. 

 

Major Enemy killed. Six more to advance the General level. Skill “Scorched Earth lvl. 30” gained.

 

Then, suddenly, Narita was free, her furry body reforming once again from the eruption of the red mist, her words once again joining with everyone else once the ones who bind them were scorched to dust.

 

I heard her speak, and even among everything, I just couldn’t make out individual words, unused to the method of communication, though the concepts didn’t entirely escape me, feeling wrong, indescribable, but not unwelcome. 

 

The new ‘Purifiers’ giggled, new voices cheerful, adding to the choir. There should be more of us, something treacherous at the back of my mind insisted.

 

Grabbing my anthropomorphic rat, I held her close in my arms, refusing to let her go, all feedback a million times stronger with the direct connection to the whispering hive of monsters. Not even a single voice disputed the claim.

 

We didn’t want to be alone. 

 

Miwah held me, and so did Tama, to shield me, and I refused to let Narita from my embrace. No one disputed it. 

 

There was so much concern for me among all of that constant murmur while I was kneeling there, drowning in the storm of telepathic speech. 

 

Humans started to flee.

 

Burn, cried the ‘Purifiers’ not in voice, but in concept, and I tried to shake it off. Tama’s fiery energy swirled, and her consciousness filled with passion, desires, and destruction.

 

Burn! 

 

No, I thought. 

 

Don’t burn everything, I tried to control the sense of swirling disorder. 

 

We came here for a reason, I struggled to argue among all the chaos where all voices were expressed in the instant, feeling drowned and suffocated. They couldn’t hear me, they shouldn’t hear me.

 

Yet the wish was followed. I didn’t know why when even my speech should be lost in the chaos. 

 

We couldn’t let the humans run, was another drive, though unsure if mine of theirs.

 

The ‘Eviscerators’ clashed with the routing remnants after dropping their invisibility, resulting in more chaos. A few canines respawned, as the humans tried to fight. I could sense the echo of Miwah’s mind, her desire to give me more than just the slaughter they could cause, yet absolutely determined to not let even a single human endanger me ever again. 

 

No, I thought, overwhelmed by the feedback that I forgot to speak. 

 

They would tell others, and they would ‘seal’ my girls - we refused to be sealed. 

 

I held my Narita and felt lonely. There should be more of her kin, something urged me. 

 

More of the ‘Eviscerators’ fell: the man with the sword was still alive, somehow surviving the blast, but whether it was by evading the blast completely, or through some magical resistance, I wasn’t able to tell. What, however, was obvious, were his fighting skills. He cut a few shadowy canines down, maybe in an attempt to let his comrades escape.

 

He was the one who tried to prevent this onslaught, yet there was so much hate and so much fear of the agony of ‘sealing’ even after the woman who cast the spell was turned into ash I couldn’t control it. Resentment towards the act was like an avalanche, impossible to stop once set in motion, threatening to sweep everything else aside.

 

There was no telling how strong the man was - the local ‘elites’ represented the threat. 

 

I still held Narita in my embrace. Her thoughts echoed in mine, to harvest everything that was.  

 

My girls were a priority. No survivors, their whispers concurred. 

 

Among the storm of thoughts, no concerns could be spared for humans. 

 

Get them.

 

Weaken them first.

 

The ‘Defilers’ charged in, drowning the camp in the sinister glow and life faded away, less destructive than the pyromantic orgy of concentrated ‘Purifier’ fire yet no less deadly. The humans, the grass, everything perished, rapidly fading away and reduced to shrivelled husks, only the ‘Eviscerators’ invigorated with the infusion of energy. 

 

They caught up with the scattering humans. 

 

It felt intoxicating, more than ever before, now our thoughts collided in the confusing swirl.

 

Skill “Great Devourer lvl.17” gained.

 

The message appeared, along with the freshly forming ‘Defilers’ all eager to join their voices and minds with the greater whole, all worried about the insignificant me overwhelmed with the chorale. They cared, despite there being so many of them, and merely a single of me.

 

Our most powerful enemy was still alive, and our inability to distinguish between the relative power levels among their best warriors labelled them as a threat, a prime target. 

 

Flank him! 

 

The ‘Ravagers’ advanced, their hulking forms covered in their armour, instinctively splitting into two groups. I could hear the murmur among the never-ending cascade of voices, as they constantly whispered to each other in their minds.

This, motivated the super-swordman to make a fighting retreat, cutting down a few ‘Eviscerators’ in the process, despite their attempts to flicker through their cloaking state to confuse him.

 

It stung, nudging further action. 

 

Corral and bring down rest!

 

The ‘Displacers’ disappeared into their spatial portals, launching themselves forward, to cover greater distances.

 

It hurt. 

 

The teleporting felines were somehow instinctively able to predict where they emerge from their respective rifts without much effort, but for me, being able to feel their minds in mine, it caused pain and exhaustion. 

 

There was yet another rush of emotion, the rat’s monster life-draining aura in full swing, stealing the vitality from everything else to fuel me, to compensate. 

 

The energy soon became abundant as everything around us was drained, my thoughts too hyperfocused on the lingering backlash, urging me to continue.

 

It was crucial, it felt like purpose, to increase our numbers. Just until yet another piece of information stroked my brain, entirely confusing my senses to a single point of view. 

 

The man with the sword decapitated another ‘Eviscerator’ - the lifeless body fell to the ground with a burst of blood, only to be claimed by the red fog to live once more. It didn’t quell the speech as the ‘sealing’ did, only paused its return with twice more ferocity.

 

My vision shook, unable to maintain focus, and my head started to ache from all the communication. 

 

The man fought on. He managed to defeat the few more shadowy canines, but the tides were turning as they prioritised the targets, chasing after the breakaway humans instead of the diversion the lone, but noticeably superior, warrior provided.

 

I tried to push the voices away, to gain the focus, as images flickered from different eyes.

 

The swordsman swung the sword, deflecting the blow from the similarly armed ‘Defiler’ and stumbled backwards, the killing aura caught his supernatural vitality, yet managed to avoid even another slash.

 

With a kick, he grounded the ‘Defiler’, but others were upon him, yet no weapon hit him, as the little ratlike monsters desired revenge for cutting out their own, reaching with their vitality-drawing powers. 

 

His sword fell to the ground, his strength waning. 

 

Then, the last human dropped dead to the ground, veins in his body growing black just before his own flesh dried out, and perished long before he was struck by any weapon. 

 

The announcement superseded my thoughts on the matter, the window once again invading the increasingly teary eyes, the only thing that remained sharp and defined among the weakness. 

Major Enemy killed. Five more to advance the General level. Skill “Great Devourer lvl.18” gained.

 

Narita’s warmth was pleasing, and so was the others’, as my mates cared for my well-being. I didn’t want to let her go. 

 

I closed my eyes, trying to turn off the constant murmur. Though I could feel their love and concern, the telepathic communication between my girls was killing me through the buddying, head-spitting migration. 

 

All the psychic noise turned into exhaustion, and for a brief moment, everything went black…

 

Then I jerked back to reality, feeling almost as if it was drowsiness behind the wheel of a speeding car, a last call to avoid the collision. The world went back to normal.

 

I still held Narita, while shielded by both Tama and Miwah from my sides.

 

In our vicinity, there was nothing else left alive but my monsters, my girls, standing in the blackened fields filled with lifeless grass, a few starting to pick among the remains, while others gave a victory cheer. 

 

“For Master!” 

 

The voices, and their constant, ever-present droll finally went silent, almost as turned off with the flip of a switch. The stillness gave me some relief, yet it also felt like there was a piece of me missing, one which only could be achieved through unity, calling me back. 

 

“Master?” Miwah asked gently,

 

“I am... fine…” I replied, hesitantly, when they helped me back on my feet, as I tried to focus my shattered mind back to the waking world devoid of the permanent ensemble of telepathic communication. 

 

It was surprisingly easy to shake it away, almost like shaking off a loose boot from one’s foot - it felt clumsy and ineffective, although still doing its job somewhat to bring some relief from the constant cacophony. At least, the migraine went away - I didn’t know how ‘Alphas’ managed it, as I assumed it is how they felt all the time. 

 

As confusing as the system was, I was grateful for it, its dull screen was considerably more bearable than dealing with thousands of minds linked together 

 

“Just make sure no human got away.” I breathed out, immediately. 

 

“Yes, Master.” 

 

I still refused to let Narita go. She didn’t seem to object to this particularly strongly, though she still looked at me with her red eyes, filled with emotion and worry. My tired brain refused to give out on the idea there was something quite cute about my anthropomorphic rat.

 

“You are beautiful,” I said, for no apparent reason. It didn’t quite feel fit for the situation, my tired mind barely recovered from the sudden joining and refused to feel sympathy for the humans felled.

 

I leaned for the kiss, and paradoxically enough the gentle touch of either Tama or Miwah on my back even suggested it was completely appropriate, though the realisation this was the battlefield stopped me from going on with it. This was neither place nor time. 

 

“You aren’t looking bad either, Master.” Narita replied energetically, not looking troubled anymore, recovering from the fact she was ‘sealed’ moments ago.  

 

“Do you feel well?”

 

“Yes-yes, Master.” She confirmed, though her ruby eyes reflected that the past ‘sealing’ had some impact on her, though the absence of the link that manifested in the twisted chorus left a certain ambiguity about what exactly it did, aside from severing the connection briefly. 

 

Her expression however betrayed the desire to stay close. 

 

I let her hang on my hand, which Miwah and Tama didn’t object to the slightest. 

 

My brain finally allowed me to shift my attention to something else and in the uncertain step supported by others I continued towards the former human camp, now completely devoid of its former occupants, just my monsters, my girls, securing the area.

 

“For Master!” Few chirped in, excitedly. 

 

I focused on something else. 

 

A few of the tents fell in the chaos, or they were about to break camp when we arrived, providing no further answers on what they searched there, though overturned wagons lost during the combat suggested they were here to scavenge the battlefield. 

 

Some animals were lost in the fight, killed, and drained, while some fled in the chaos breaking away from the carts they were once supposed to drag.

 

Humans might not expect the fight and could have been shocked by our arrival.

 

Whatever organization they had, nothing has remained in its place, and even what I assumed was once the command tent barely stood up weathered down. 

 

Shaking down the echoes of the connection, I forced my mind to work on the details. 

 

The only indication it was a command tent was its overall size and the fact it had some decoration on its canvas, but whether the Asian-styled dragon pictured on it was merely a show of status and wealth or was a coat of arms for a specific faction, it was hard to tell. 

 

Still, I doubted it mattered. 

 

“Any survivors?” I verified 

 

“No, Master.” Narita, still close, answered. I was, for the moment, unable to feel sympathy for the humans, my attention quickly shifting to more practical matters, to threats they represented to us, to the benefits this place could bring us. 

 

I looked around - there were no standards, no banners, and as far I remembered most of the humans around it - including their best warrior - didn’t look particularly rich, it suggested we didn’t meet the tent’s original owner.

 

They had one of their enhanced warriors here, even if he wasn’t at the peak of their class, but rather a weaker variant. Perhaps he was one like those ‘ninjas’ I met earlier, a nimble fighter, yet not a true powerhouse. 

 

We won easily enough - whether it was for the best or the ill remained to be seen. It made me truly worried though - at any moment, true ‘elites’ capable of cutting through hundreds of my precious monster girls without breaking a sweat could appear.  

 

A few of my girls already entered the tent rummaging through the content as I collected my thoughts.

 

With Narita still held close, I entered as well, determined to find answers. 

 

Its inside was a mess, with weapons and armour collected from the battlefield mixed with whatever was left behind by the camp’s followers, lacking an overall style further confirming my assumptions that we most likely met the looter crew rather than a conventional army.

 

It felt me no wiser at who was who. 

 

There was a table, even, in the centre, though the fact it was weighed by the various items rather than a map or writing supplies destroyed a hope we would find the ink here. 

 

I could imagine some general leading an army in ancient times still having correspondence despite most of his men being illiterate, orders from rulers or letters from the nobles, yet it was apparent I wasn’t going to find it here.

 

The army that fought this battle was gone, and whichever factions would send the ‘elites’ after us was a mystery. 

 

One of the ‘Displacers’ helped herself to the lying chainmail, with the assistance of giggling ‘Purifier’ to put it on, while two ‘Defilers’ brought up a slight bulker variant of the typical lamellar to present, likely for Narita to put on, all restless and happy from abundant energy. 

 

Then they looked at me, expectantly, almost as if asking whether I liked the find. 

 

“For Master?” They asked. 

 

I looked at the armoured hauberk, though paying more attention to my monsters than to the item myself. 

 

“I don’t need armour, I want you safe,” I replied, truthfully.

 

I looked at Miwah, my alluring pale werewolf had her previously shiny and red armour scorched and damaged. My mate should be safe. 

 

“Find something for Miwah, perhaps? Have an outfit for Narita too.”

 

It was not going to fit well on the petite girl, I thought, and it wouldn’t help against the greatest danger we encountered - the memory of the ‘sealing’ almost brought back a phantom pain of remembrance, and the hidden, throbbing urge at the back of my brain reminded me I should free my girls from the woman in the fortress and her magic, to make us whole again.

 

Not that armour would help me, either. It wasn’t like I was as durable as Kuma, capable of shrugging off the blast…

 

This brought another realisation. 

 

While I was not close to understanding who those people were, and what they were fighting over, there was one thing the groups had in common. 

 

The ‘casters’ as the system referred to them, with their almost eerily similar robes, layered red and white, usually with some decorative patterns bearing meanings I didn’t understand, were one of the shared similarities. 

 

I attributed it no importance originally, but now I finally recognised something quite very obvious - it wasn’t a fashion, the fact the women in such outfits always possessed the power to harm us signalled it was more of the uniform fitted for office.

 

Whether it said ‘magician’ or a ‘priest’ it didn’t matter - they were always a threat that brought great suffering to my people, and in the wake of the latest events the phantom pain of ‘sealing’ made my blood boil. 

 

I looked at my fiery vixen. 

 

Tama, in fact, wore one such robe, looted somewhere from that pagoda in the hills. She wore it poorly, and her fluffy multiple tails didn’t fit the long skirt that came with the outfit. The anthropomorphic fox also liked to remind me of her feminine curves too. 

 

That, however, wasn’t the point. 

 

“I want you out of that dress as soon as possible.” 

 

“Oh, Master.” Tama smiled her vulpine smirk, and made a teasing expression, “Before or after Narita, or perhaps…”  

 

My fox woman was my permanent companion, and I was almost infectiously drawn to the company of my furry menagerie, but my remark had nothing to do with the overpowering perception that my monsters were, in fact, my people. Precious, attractive, beautiful. 

 

“Not what I meant right now.” I cut her off, “It’s some official uniform of theirs! We need to find you some other outfit.” 

 

Now my mind focused on something as obvious as this, I couldn’t get it off - unlike armour, which certainly was a uniform of sorts for their soldiers, those robes signified the people who hurt us the most and the deepest of them all. It symbolised the hurt, and I wasn’t going to let it go.

 

“Yes, Master.” Tama agreed, with a grin on her foxy smile, while her clawed hands toyed with the ribbon that held the outfit at her waist. 

 

The problem, however, wasn’t what my white vixen considered fashion. 

 

I looked around suddenly realising that there wasn’t any symbol, any piece of clothing or coat of arms that identified us as a group, a minor concern in the face of the greater issues concerning our survival. 

 

Narita, with the help of her two assistants, got herself into the bulkier armour, while I scanned the assortment of items in the room almost looking for inspiration.

 

I was out of assertions of what was what- though the consideration that there was clothing that identified the ‘casters’ gave me ideas.

 

Considering the fact that my people were a host of anthropomorphic beast women, we didn’t necessarily need anything that would help us differentiate ourselves from the local human population, but there was this previously unrealized need for the symbol I didn’t know how to make, or how it should look like.

 

One was clear though, we still needed it - if not to adorn ourselves, perhaps to give to the humans on our side to show allegiance.

 

Perhaps there was something for a messenger. 

 

However, we could still be jumped while I considered a trivial issue, reminding me I should once again, act practically.

 

I stormed outside the tent, though another look at the camp didn’t provide the answers I sought.

 

“Sora?” I called for my teleporting feline, thinking there wasn’t any point in shouting as my girl was just lurking nearby, seemingly preoccupied with the events somewhere outside my view if the eyes fixated on the horizon were any indicator.

 

The ‘Alphas’ indeed handled the constant dribble of voices with quite a natural grace.

 

“Yes, Master?” 

 

“Prepare to transport everything useful around here to our camp,” I ordered, scanning our surroundings, and thinking a little bit more.

 

“Yes, Master.” The teleporting feline didn’t hesitate, though I was already certain it would tire them.

 

They, in fact, her mini-versions already tried to throw various items through the shifting rifts, as they could, in fact, bring through objects. It seems haphazard, but ‘Displacers’ were, as I found out, the most rash of my followers. 

 

I looked at Miwah and Tama, with the intention to bring everyone to the action. Also gestured for Kuma to come close, her muscle would become useful. Even the small ‘Corruptors’ could help.

 

“If you can push the wagon through the portal, do it. If you can push that ballista through the portal, take it too. Break tents to package it if you need item cohesion so it doesn’t gett lost in the void! Simply everything that is useful, we sort it later.” I continued and tried to overlook what was once a battlefield. For the first time, I noticed the stench of burning, overwhelming the one of decay.

 

“Narita,” I asked once the rat girl joined my side, along with Miwah and Tama duo, “Use your power to sterilise everything and use the energy drain to make sure Sora’s teleporters get  going.” 

 

I, for the last time, scanned my surroundings. Everything on this clearing would have to die, yet I didn’t feel anything. 

 

The well-being of my monsters was a priority, and almost as if the brief full-scale link broke something in me, there was no worry. The only pressure to act. 

 

There was just a disappointment that the very item that I came here to wasn’t there. 

 

My furry menagerie was, once again, in a flurry of activity, and the entire company was in a state of organised chaos, only Tama and Miwah remained close. And newly, Narita too, hanging far too close to my side. 

 

Still, I didn’t feel satisfied - despite the material gain, and the realization of which people we should scout for to eliminate the dangers, we didn’t went closer to resolving the problem with the fortress

 

Among all the movements, however, I noticed how a ‘Purifier’ tried to throw items on the large pile for transport, only the fact they found pottery in the camp and needlessly broke it gained my attention.

 

However, before I reminded my fire foxes to be careful, I noticed another item, picking it from the ground. 

 

There were, in fact, quite a few. 

 

A bent piece of wood, likely a part of bamboo, with the symbols carved into it.

 

I couldn’t read the local script, of course, it has its own touch unlike the languages of Earth, but there was something that made sense. 

 

A series of symbols I couldn’t read was accompanied by rows and rows of cuts, in regular intervals, which made me realize that those looters weren’t exactly stupid - if I guessed correctly, they made records which made sense since they picked apart the remnants of the army, but …

 

They didn’t exactly need paper and ink, they just carved wood in the knife. 

 

There was, however, a slight problem with it. It just wasn’t noticeable as it would the ink be, with black patterns on the light surface, though more lasting than the scratching made in scorched charcoals. 

 

It brought a certain notion, something very simple that made me foolish in hindsight. 

 

“Tama?” I asked, looking at my vixen, “Could you burn images into the wood?” 

 

Perhaps there was a simpler way all that time.