The Mook Maker

I still have no clear idea why the humans turned on each other. 

 

“Quick! Try to shield them!” 

 

I shouted, pointing at the spot where the unit of human riders fell under the volley of arrows, apparently from their comrades, and where Narita tried to heal them.

 

Said job was likely already completed, judging from the massive circle of dead vegetation. 

 

It, however, didn’t stop the enemy from trying to kill her. 

 

“Quickly!” I urged.

 

The bloated puppet soaked the projectiles for the moment, refusing to die, but it was neither a lasting nor reliable protection. 

 

I saw Narita gesturing with her claws, not at me or my girls, not even humans, but at the largest patches of the vegetation behind the still spreading field of decay around her. 

 

A puppet took a projectile through its eye, tearing it away in emotionless defiance to injury, only to have it healed by our horned rodent. 

 

I wasn’t going to sacrifice Narita for a group of more or less neutral humans, but I couldn’t leave the last remnants of the relatively amiable natives - the lord of this land included - die in some ill-thought rebellion either.

 

“Portal a few Ravagers there. Form shields from metal.” 

 

It was the first thing I thought of. 

 

The shower of arrows, however, soon faltered as the first fireball exploded against the battlements.

 

Killing the archers would work as well.  

 

A few bolts from our ballistae were fired too, albeit, with little effect, the bolts either crashing against the hardened stone or overshooting the ramparts as the siege crossbows, despite their greater range, couldn’t match the destructive potential of instinctive command of magic.

 

At the same time, hundreds of ‘Purifiers’ raced across the field.

 

They were taking a few sporadic hits, while the surroundings of the fortress were set ablaze, sparking not only the fire but also complete chaos and confusion.

 

The defenders of the fortress weren’t certain who they should target anymore.

 

It didn’t prevent some of their archers from trying. 

 

One of my little foxies materialised from the puff of the red fog, then another, their cheerful tones contrasting the situation of the battle in progress. 

 

At the same time, dozens upon dozens of her sisters reached the range unleashing a torrent of fireballs upon one section of the battlements.

 

The notification appeared, bland and uncaring, yet somehow satisfied with the destruction.

 

Skill “Scorched Earth lvl.31” Gained.

 

I could feel it, as an itching somewhere at the back of my mind, the invisible, elusive counter of death began to tick once more. 

 

More blasts cracked in the distance, a few ‘Purifiers’ challenging the stone itself not to melt under their power, pummeling the sections of the walls with their barrage. 

 

I waved the offending notification away. 

 

“For Master!” My monsters - my girls - cried out joyfully and giggled, with seven more of my fluffy foxies joined in our endless struggle.

 

I could feel them. All of them, the voices in mind, so much love and so much rage, all condensed into such a small, furry, lovable package.

 

The red fog was relentless, a bat-like ‘Fleshspeaker’ appeared, and then another, reminding me that the flying monsters could reach the enemy lines in a fraction of the time compared to those landbound, only to be hit. 

 

I could see them, circling the castle, their piercing shrieks still achingly clear in the heat of the battle, even from this distance. 

 

So much disarray, yet so much organisation at the same time, filled my mind.

 

The thousand voices chittered in the back of my brain, as my little ones directed themselves in the battle, their own thoughts of encircling interfered with mine.

 

It caused slight vertigo, like slight inebriation, albeit not caused by alcohol, making me falter. 

 

The battle continued without me.

 

The freshly reformed girls jumped up, restless. 

 

“Later, my pretties!” I commanded without much thought, waving my little people away, along with another notification occupying my vision, and with a sweeping motion with my arm added:

 

“All respawned form up in the back!” 

 

They weren’t afraid to rejoin the fray, but I wasn’t going to use them to, they weren’t a resource to be depleted, even if the red fog that gave them life always returned them to my embrace where they belonged

 

The system, however, punished the necessity to respawn them. 

 

More red fog spat a few of my girls back into the world of living. 

 

The defenders of the fortress did not yet relent.

 

“Sora! If you can blink into the castle, bring all armoured-up Ravagers in, then Defilers to heal them! Watch out if they still have the caster!” 

 

I yelled, without even looking where the feline was. 

 

Hopefully, she was doing what I’d ordered - I had no time to think, there were so many whispers among the noise of the real world, and I felt lost in them, captured.

 

In front of me, ‘Purifiers’ and ‘Eviscerators’ took the direct, conventional approach, likely intending to either climb the walls or simply continue blasting the defenders with their fire magic. 

 

We still didn’t have a battering ram.

 

The ruby mist sporadically spat some of my vulpine and canine followers, all interpreting their orders for staying back as lingering close to me, to shield and support me, or simply vying for my attention.

 

A ‘Ravager’ materialised, a hulking figure among the more diminutive cousins, also announcing herself, urging me to direct her for a new task, which among all the confusion I didn’t have. 

 

Part of the Viceroy’s entourage was fleeing towards our lines, abandoning their weapons, and their animals, in the heat of battle, apparently lost, unsure whether to lash against the monsters charging past them.

 

None of them did.

 

Some humans, however, were being dragged in, including their leader. 

 

The fact they were once the lord’s cavalrymen was reduced to a fleeting memory. 

 

Their horses trampled the fields in terror only to be randomly swept by the ‘Purifier’ firebolts or even torn by ‘Eviscerators’ just to not get in the way. 

 

“Funnel the lord’s men somewhere where they won’t be in the way!” I ordered the big ursine lady, and the mob churned around me. 

 

The two of them respawned ‘Fleshspeakers’ specifically, loitered around, confused they couldn’t take a flight to join their sisters.

 

Another one joined them, uncaring for whatever weapon or enemy caused her rebirth, announcing herself with the happy chirp: “For Master!” 

 

Somewhere from the castle, defenders fired their own ballista in my general direction, its spears crashing nearby and hitting one of my ‘Eviscerators’ instead. 

 

The massive projectile pierced her body, a blood splashed all over, only to be evaporated in the bloody mist as the dying monster reformed to live again. 

 

The sense of disequilibrium was growing more intense as the telepathic conversation between the girls grew in intensity, filled with understanding before I was able to form the words, but I was certain. 

 

No human should be allowed to hurt my girls!

 

No more enemy ballista crews!

 

The chorus of the voices approved in unison. 

 

A fireball blast hit one of the castles in the tower, then another, followed by more, to consume it in a massive conflagration of concentrated fire magic consuming the part of the fortress. 

 

I took a glimpse of Helmy, far ahead in the field, fighting side by side with her little sisters, lobbing their magical attacks on what used to be a roofed position for archers. 

 

Gusts of flames swept that portion of the castle wall, and the conflagration began to spread.

 

Skill “Scorched Earth lvl.32” Gained.

 

From the ruby red fog, a new batch of ‘Purifiers’ was born. Fresh, excited anthropomorphic vulpines, all ready to rush into the battle without a care in the world, their girlish voices echoing in my ears and in my mind alike. 

 

More! 

 

There was feedback from my power - an almost intoxicating sensation of approval for releasing more of our kind into the world, so much more preferable than the human company would be. 

 

A temptation to expand our numbers was as strong as the backlash from ‘sealing’ used to be debilitating, and I was overwhelmed by the desire to bring the defenders of the castle down so there wouldn’t be a next ‘caster’ to take my beloved monsters away from me ever again. 

 

I didn’t really think about the next step - it just felt right. 

 

One of the ‘Fleshspeakers’ chirped once more, unhappy being grounded as their sisters circled the skies, dodging arrows, stunning enemies, and causing mayhem, while the few unlucky ones had to stand back.

 

I could feel it, but I dreaded the separation - the second wave would be swimming in the nothingness for an hour should they die. 

 

This wasn’t an option. 

 

“You two, you are now Iris and Eris!” I pointed at the two chiropteran girls, and quickly added: “You take care of the fleeing humans, stun them if they don’t cooperate.” 

 

Unit named! Iris, The Named Fleshspeaker. Unit named! Eris, The Named Fleshspeaker. Skill “Messengers of the Ever-Living Horde lvl.6” Gained. Skill “Messengers of the Ever-Living Horde lvl.7” Gained.

 

The naming worked even in the heat of battle, and through the crimson haze, a large group of winged creatures were summoned, ready to fly into the fray. 

 

“You. Go help the others, stun as many humans in the castle as you can, too!”  

 

Their shrieks and excited cries “For Master!” filled the air as they took flight. 

 

A few more of my monster girls returned through the bloody mist, reborn anew, as those who tried to scale the walls were thrown down, plummeting down after being stabbed or pushed over. 

 

Even from a distance, I could take a glimpse of the huge, lumbering statues that appeared on the battlements and this time, it was human defenders who were thrown down their own fortifications. 

 

I could hear the screams even from this distance. 

 

Skill “Slayer of Champions lvl.14“ Gained.

 

I wasn’t paying attention to the notifications, trying to focus my eyes on what was happening in the distance. 

 

A group of the freshly summoned ursine girls were, for now, trying to stay out of view, yet their large figures were hard to miss when they too set out towards the fortress, rushing for the gates. 

 

The archers, if any still lived, didn’t pose an issue anymore. 

 

Our bat monsters took sweeps at the castle, likely trying to grab the few remaining humans, while the hulking ‘Ravagers’ who teleported inside corralled the enemies away from the walls, forcing them to fall back somewhere to the inner parts of the fortress.

 

I wasn’t quite sure how it looked inside, I realised. 

 

Despite the fact I didn’t have a complete enough comprehension of how their multi-staged defence would be layered, or if they had one in the first place, our massed attack seemed to work.

 

A human scream of panic and terror, still audible despite the cacophony of the battle, despite the distance between us and the fortress, mixed with the loud, mind-shattering screeches of the bat-girls and the excited chant from the rest of the horde.

 

Some of the little ones - the ‘Purifiers’ and the ‘Eviscators’ still tried to climb the masonry of the outer wall, some slipping and crashing down due to slipping from stonework rather than enemy action. 

 

The fog gave them back to me, alive and whole, but I didn’t find their deaths acceptable even if the deaths were temporary. 

 

“Miwah. Message Kuma. If she can’t open the gate, have her absorb the portcullis, metal joints, frame, whatever!” I spat quickly, mentally pushing my horde to haste with their fight inside the enemy’s fort.

 

“Yes, Master!” 

 

“Miwah, Tama. Could you please help them?” I ordered, fully committed to speed up the battle. 

 

My confusion grew, and the conversation inside my mind started to mix with the sounds of the real world, leaving me even more bedazzled, and forcing me to rush the battle even further before I dropped down to the ground.

“Yes, Master!” I wasn’t quite certain if it was Tama or Miwah who said that, or even whether it was delivered through actual sound, and outlines of the world itself started to get blurry.

 

Maybe there was a reason why I wasn’t able to hear the girls’ thoughts by default. Perceiving a constant conversation between a thousand minds thinking, talking, and working in unison could be overwhelming even in short bursts, let alone as the endless rustle always present in the background. 

 

It was getting worse - more common, easier to be provoked during the fight recently. 

 

I didn’t know why.

 

The voices inside my mind sang in unison, and I didn’t even look back as the ‘Displacers’ grabbed the girls to bring them to battle which was, at this point, nearly won. 

 

The notification once again invaded my view, a bleak and monochromatic interruption, while the new additions to our furry menagerie coalesced from the eruption of crimson mist.

 

The voices in my head swirled and eddied, and I was certain that my ursine followers would be ready to carry me should my legs give out at that moment. It felt reassuring, I could feel their assurance.

 

The window blinked.

 

Skill “Slayer of Champions lvl.15“ Gained.

 

I waved it away. 

 

It felt good. Something buried within me loved to see our horde grow, to feel them breaching into reality from that mist and take form, their cheerful births into existence. 

 

A new one popped out immediately after. 

 

Skill “Slayer of Champions lvl.16“ Gained.

 

A freshly summoned ursine almost completely blocked my view of the fortress, but I felt that our victory was secured, that the battle was almost won as the ‘Ravagers’ inside the fortress were hacking their way through the remnants of the enemy. 

 

I didn’t bother with another notification - I didn’t bother to read, to even acknowledge the overlay.

 

Then, after a few more messages, a restless, ruby mist continued in its work to fill this world with my new people, my girls, the canine ones, the vulpine, and the chiropterans, and my grasp upon the world was slipping as something strange was slowly taking over.

 

The feedback loop from the telepathic link aroused by the continued spawning took precedence - the voices inside my mind were stronger than the perception of my own eyes, my own ears. 

 

The visions came - blinking, changing images almost like when one changed the channels on the television. 

 

A metal-covered hand grabbed a struggling soldier and slammed him against the wall like a rag doll. 

 

My view changed again. 

 

I looked below at talons digging into a paralysed human, the fear in his eyes as the man’s flesh twisted and bubbled under the magical power. 

 

Another scene, another channel.

 

They dash through some corridor chasing after a fleeing woman. She screamed as I jumped - or rather the one behind the eyes did.

 

I was starting to understand. 

 

Then another view, a swirling vortex, a familiar space beyond space where distance was a matter of interpretation, and its transition towards the material world, blueish paws securing their way on the wooden surface, then dropping down on the surprised human. 

 

It continued. 

 

A blue fire raged in the dark. 

 

Voices raged with it. 

 

The fog was restless. 

 

It didn’t feel as alien and as disorienting as it should be. 

 

Instead, I felt intoxicated. 

 

Where the past ‘sealings’ caused a crippling feeling of loss, a more pleasant sensation of approval and encouragement took place, and for the moment I felt one with the endless cacophony and suddenly, found a hidden charm within its disorderly chatter, an unseen and unheard harmony within the union of a thousand minds. 

 

A storm of countless voices was suddenly less threatening, less overwhelming than it should be, and instead, turned into something else. 

 

It was so … right.

 

Wouldn’t it be even more beautiful if there were more of us? 

 

Much more. 

 

A serpent was swallowing the human’s memory almost like they were a little helpless mouse, so the roots would grow stronger to hide him well from the flying ones who swam in the heavens. Stronger roots make safer dens.

 

A human…

 

Then, out of nowhere, a realisation. A memory, a promise, one I gave to the Viceroy, a safety to his men who would not fight.

 

A view changed, we were in the corridor, and soldiers raised their shields, but the blue flame pierced through them like spears.

 

The few survivors turned around the corner and we gave chase. 

 

“We…” I said without haste in my voice, feeling almost puzzled, and lost, but the words dried out in my throat. 

 

The burning rune on the wall exploded in the pure rejection of our existence. 

 

The anguish! 

 

So much suffering was concentrated into a single point.

 

A strike of tormenting headache, as strong as it was unexpected, brought me back to my body, and to my knees, in that small plot we designated for the negotiation 

 

I was back at the edge of our lines, in the grass, and Mia, the new ‘Defiler Alpha’ rushed to tend to my non-existing wounds which pulsated with phantom pain. 

 

The greenery died, faded into oblivion, ground down into dust in the sickly glow. 

 

This time, it was Tama along with Sora who appeared from the fog, reformed after being struck by the unseen force, alive, but weakened by something we didn’t encounter.

 

I felt it, I just didn’t know what it was. 

 

It was - like the accursed stave, not powerful enough to tear our bonds apart, but concentrated enough to repulse our very being. 

 

Voices protested.

 

They didn’t like it, and neither did I.

 

Sora spread herself in now blackened grass and let a pained growl struggling with words: 

“Master! Scattered. Symbols. Hurt. Traps.” 

 

“Mia! I need more … of your sisters. Heal them.” I rasped while clinging to the nearest monster girl who rushed to my aid. The ‘Defiler’ magic fed more and more energy into me, but I wasn’t concerned about myself.

 

The fog spat out a few of my girls of varying breeds, struck by the familiarly hostile magic - almost like the barrier one was. They, too, seemed exhausted. 

 

It made me anxious - there was a new application of enemy magic, weakening my girls after their apparent rebirth, creating an undeniably oppressive feeling of lasting consequences.

 

Voices complained about the symbols, and runes akin to enchanted, supernatural booby traps, and backslash from the harm it caused made my focus slip away from the overbearing telepathic hum. 

 

It made me feel lost, alone and hurt. 

 

I stumbled forward. There was a strength with me, but the extended awareness was quickly waning away, only the certainty that my girls were being hurt.

 

The ‘Defilers’ worked tirelessly to assist. 

 

Another patch of greenery was swept aside, sacrificed to infuse the few suffering with vitality to compensate, bringing them relief, hopefully even curing their ailments altogether, but the fact that there was a need for it even after they were reformed alive and whole was horrifying.

 

I hated it. 

 

My monsters - my girls - shouldn’t suffer. 

 

Somewhere in the human’s fort, the fighting still went on, while a few of my precious girls ran into yet another trap. 

 

I was losing grasp of the voices, and with it, information about what was going on.

 

“There is still a caster out there?” 

 

“No, Master. We didn’t find her.” Tama answered, looking around, now showing relief. She, and Sora, were healed. She paused and said, “It is always some symbols which harm us.” 

 

“No sealed?” The logical question almost froze in my throat - it was what I was trying to prevent the entire time. 

 

“Overview!” I checked, dismissing it as soon as I saw there weren’t any more permanent casualties without bothering to read how much my family grew. I was going to review it later, a more pressing concern on my mind:

 

“No sealed.”, I said, pointlessly confirming my findings. 

 

Then, Miwah appeared from the mist, alive, but seemed paralyzed for the moment, collapsing to the ground. Mia rushed on her without my prompting just as I did. 

 

“The damn priestess planned to torment us even from beyond the grave!” I cursed as my werewolf suffered even within reach of Mia’s healing, the ‘Defilers’ vitality transference having its limits. 

 

The local’s casters were trying to cripple us, looking for a way to inflict more permanent injuries that persist even with the past resurrection-based immortality of my monsters. 

 

I considered it hideous.

 

The frustration at finding a new, unnerving, application of the human’s magic gave way to caustic anger.

 

As my white-furred mate regained consciousness, at the cost of yet another path of greenery being sacrificed, the same happened the metres in another direction to another collection of trees, all turned to dust in the wind. 

 

I gently touched Miwah’s snout and ears, my werewolf, my girl, my mate. 

 

“Master. I am healed.” She assured me.

 

It wasn’t calming. 

 

The ‘Defiler’ power seemed to be a remedy for the curse, but the fact it had to be applied each and every time my companions met with an untimely end on top of whatever the fog did to restore their life, made us drain the resources even faster. 

 

I growled. 

 

Another of my girls appeared nearby, a simple, small ‘Eviscerator’ reforming from the usual eruption of the ruby fog, alive, whole, yet too weakened to move properly.

 

“For Master!” The black canine whispered, collapsing down. 

 

That was it. 

 

The humans were going to pay. 

 

Fury struck me, accompanied by a sudden realisation - remembered Narita’s spreading her power across the fields - she has a greater range now! A good portion of the previously still lush, living fields between us were gone now, either to flame or to ‘Defiler’ power. 

 

“Narita!” I breathed out, even if she wasn’t in the earshot, “All the Defilers! Your powers go through walls! Drain everything in the castle that isn’t ours, or stunned, or puppeteered! Until all humans are either too weak to move or dead!” 

 

“Yes-yes! Master!” The response came too quickly before I could question what I’d said. 

 

I didn’t check for her being in the earshot but noticed an all too noticeable swirl of the ‘Displacer’ rift confirming it was acted on. 

 

“Miwah, Tama, you two rest.” I said, putting the effort to sound calm even if I was not.

 

I stood up, looked towards the fortress, and made a few steps towards it, the wind still carried in the roar of the battle and the cries, while occasional fires and blasts erupted around the keep. 

 

My monsters were in, streaming into the main gate, and screams continued.

 

Yet, something else was building up, energy, a slow, creeping, elusive yet present. 

 

Almost like something tried to softly tug on every lifeline, on every soul, in the area, from every human to every blade of grass, slowly building up in an even distance of the few hundred metres separating us from the fort. 

 

It was indescribable and I wasn’t quite sure why I was even experiencing that in particular, but it grew stronger. 

 

“Puppeteer the humans you caught,” I said, to nobody in particular, despite the fact that my ‘Fleshspeakers’ were already in the fortress, relying on it to be transmitted over through the rest of my menagerie, “The captured humans will have to remove those wards, whatever they are.”

 

The choir of voices that compromised the shared link between each and every member of my horde was almost gone, pushed to the back of my consciousness as the thrill of the battle to witness, the stress or adrenaline was fading, but it just made me feel alone. 

 

I began walking towards the fortress. 

 

The sensation was growing stronger, screams growing louder, and then….

 

A shockwave of the sickly green glow swept across the fields and the fortress, spreading death and rapid decay in its wake, the grass within sight withering in seconds leaving only drained, lifeless husks behind. 

 

Birds fell down from the sky, dying in flight. 

 

Only the bat-like ‘Fleshspeakers’ monster girls still flew, unaffected, invigorated, their shrieks filled with excitement.

 

The screams belonging to the humans carried by the wind from the fortress, a last vestige of resistance in the overrun fort, disappeared in the instant, and then there was only silence. 

 

The fortress still stood, seemingly untouched by the blast, other than the previous fireball barrage from the ‘Purifiers’ or random impacts of the ballista’s spears.

 

Behind me, a green madness of thorns still breathed, spreading, the new, otherworldly plants springing to life where the once conventional flora had been, but the immediate surroundings of the castle were completely stripped of all signs of life. 

 

Only decay remained. 

 

I wanted to be sad - but I couldn’t. There was too much energy in me.

 

Then, a different voice came, not fearful and desperate, but full of vigour and joy, chanting together, both from inside the fortress and from behind.

 

“For Master!” They cried, “For Master!” 

 

I felt good, standing in the field, the smouldering fort in front of me. 

 

Decay and the fog, carmine red, as always, birthing a fresh monster into existence, all filled with so much life and happiness, and soon I swam in the sea of fur and claws, and my view was flooded with the notifications. 

 

There were so many of them.

 

Skill “Great Devourer Lvl. 19“ Gained. Skill “Great Devourer Lvl. 20“ Gained. Skill “Great Devourer Lvl. 21“ Gained. …

 

I closed my eyes. 

 

There was no fighting. My monsters, my girls brushed around, touched me, gave me a welcoming hug, or maybe just loitered around. 

 

The chorus was back, for a while, both in the mind and the outside, all chanting together in unison.

 

“For Master! For Master!” 

 

I listened to the voices, a harmony birthed from nothingness, and I thought - wouldn’t it be beautiful if there were more of us?