Hastum
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103. Give me fuel, give me fire
🕑 Added 2025-10-10 21:43:01 +0000 UTCThe strange person with a bloated belly ran at us. I took some distance, and so did the mutant, unsure of what to do.
I prepared for defense.
Around halfway to us, the creature turned in the direction of the mutant. And as it got closer, I also sensed what it was: a zombie. A very weak one, but an undead nonetheless.
So Mr. Cuddles was a necromancer.
The creature wouldn’t be much help, though. I could sense it was almost at the second tier, probably created by a ritual, not a threat to the mutant.
And as if to prove my point, Peter just swung the hooked hand, tearing the zombie from belly to head, releasing the animating construct as the undead’s flesh fell to the forest floor.
“Use fire magic!” screamed the cat.
I furrowed my eyebrows, but seeing the desperation on the feline’s face, I cast a simple Flame spell and threw it at the mutant, not knowing what to expect.
And I did not see what happened next coming. The moment my fire made contact with the creature, the torn-apart body burst into flames, a sizable portion getting on the mutant.
I looked to the cat as it got closer, the question clear in my eyes.
“I had them drink themselves full of gasoline at a gas station…”
My eyebrows shot up. It was an interesting tactic, to say the least.
The mutant rolled to the side, extinguishing a large part of the flames that stuck to it.
“I’ll get you a distraction, so get them to jump onto it when I give the signal,” I said, and prepared for the fight.
I needed the faces distracted. I had the lower one dealt with, but I needed time for the next curse. The fire, which caused pain and blocked vision, was perfect.
I used Silent Message to tell Rey what to do, hoping he would believe me that they were undead and shoot the creatures.
I then prepared for the fight, casting Pierce at the eyes of the soul mage’s face to get its attention. It worked. The creature turned to me and prepared for a ranged attack as I hid behind the trees.
It started approaching.
The thunder armour was almost see-through. I just needed one good strike. I then looked from behind the tree, only to duck back as a bolt of lightning flew by me.
A little closer.
Finally, hearing the mutant right behind the tree, I dropped my remaining ice bombs and ran forward, exposing my back. The mutant was within striking distance as it swung the hook.
Force pushed me out of its way as the ice exploded.
The cat didn’t need any signal as two more zombies ran at the mutant. The creature struck one of them, causing its head to burst like a watermelon in the process.
But it managed to jump, while the other one hugged Peter as strongly as it could.
Rey then looked from behind the tree and aimed.
There was a split second of hesitation, but seeing the body without a head, he shot at it. That was enough.
I threw my remaining two fire bombs.
The zombies exploded into a ball of fire to the inhuman screech of the faces etched into Peter’s flesh.
It used a simple thunder armour spell to keep the fire off its flesh, but heat still did its work, and the gasoline stuck to the armour.
I could see the flesh burn and regenerate. Apparently, the healer was doing his best.
Good—now, while they were distracted.
I raised my hand with the tattoo. I didn’t have a conduit for the mind, so I needed to set the anchor manually. Choosing the proper spot, I extended myself toward the hook.
And there they were, like wild animals caught in an ocean of tar, their minds, or what remained of them, clinging to the hook, their twisted faces barely above the dark surface. I was looking for the one controlling the hand with the hook.
From the description, he would be the youngest one with thunder magic.
I located the mind using that and the similarity to the face showing in the flesh.
I then started to weave the curse.
I needed immediate execution, short but potent. Adjusting the spell, I started to drop it into the consciousness. I couldn’t guide it deep into the mind of another. I could just give it directions.
So I directed it into the part responsible for trauma. A deep one, defining the creature’s actions, fueling the rage it felt.
The mutant fought with the flames as the gasoline stuck to it, the smoke and fire blocking its vision. I risked pushing a bit harder. But then the creature stopped. I was afraid it sensed the curse, but then I saw it just ignored the fire and turned around, looking for an enemy.
“Shit.”
It cast another armour, this time using some sort of soul spell. Next, I felt a wave of energy emanate from it in all directions and stick to me.
It wasn’t an attack. It was some sort of soul sensory spell. The creature, even with flames still raging on its body, easily turned right to me. It could sense my position. The soul face screamed something, and qi covered the flesh, using the movement technique.
The face was blinded by the curse, but it still could hear, apparently.
I was running out of spells. I couldn’t dodge indefinitely. And the soul-wave attack could kill me. It was now or never.
I weakened my cast. Instead of showing a full vision, it would layer it over what the face was seeing. I hoped that was enough.
The creature arrived in front of me as the curse clicked into place.
Bestow Visions.
There was a big problem now. The vision should show a person, layering the features over what the mutant saw. And there was only one human close to fill that role for the spell.
And that would be me.
Taking that bargain and ignoring the heat from the flames, I stepped closer, not raising any defenses.
The mutant swung the hook at my head.
The curse activated.
From between the flames, I could see a look of triumph on the face peeking over the shoulder.
I paid it no mind as I silently weaved a third-circle spell.
The hooked hand met the skin as I broke my own armour spell.
And then it stayed there as the hook delicately dragged across my skin, as if trying to hold my cheek.
The scene was haunting in a strange, sad way. I saw the face through the flames—a look of sadness, relief, and deep love etched into the inhuman features.
So it still remembered.
I saw the mouth move, trying to say the name of its daughter.
But no matter how cruel, I would need to break that vision.
Before the rest of the body realized something was wrong, a Bone Spear materialized right over the outstretched wrist and fell with all the force I could muster.
The face seeing the vision didn’t move the hand out of the way.
The spell shattered the bone, and a Cut from my staff dealt with the flesh right after.
The hand with the hook fell to the forest floor.
I didn’t know what would happen now.
The boar was alive even though the hook was no longer present, but it didn’t have any intelligence beyond basic instincts driving it. It was incapable of planning or more complicated thoughts.
So the faces shouldn’t be able to coordinate now. They should just try to attack on instinct, each soul moving different parts of the body. The opponent would be a sitting duck.
But there was one thing I didn’t think would happen.
Without the direction of the minds, with nothing but basic instincts left, they didn’t try to keep any trump cards to counteract mine.
I felt the magic rise around the creature. The qi must have been running out, as it was barely there. The thunder was around the third tier. But the magic of the soul healer seemed like a fifth-tier spell.
And I was right in front of it.
I would not be able to swing my way out of this attack.
I needed it disrupted. I needed a change. And what better to bring change than the definition of entropy itself?
I closed my eyes to the impending doom in front of me and looked into myself.
I looked upon the swirling mass of darkness.
Squirming Void wouldn’t be enough. I saw it ripped by a spell before, and this one felt even stronger. No, there was one spell that I needed.
“Azathoth”
I invoked the name of my god and let the energy flow. But this spell was different. I still needed another’s permission, one not contracted to me. Getting the eldritch energy was half of the success, but the spell itself invoked the name of the Black Goat of the Woods.
I readjusted the energy slightly, making it appear more like the darkness beneath the veil of the black mass I saw in the gifted vision.
Once the energy was close enough to what I wanted, I whispered the name of another god.
“Shub-Niggurath.” I felt the spell react, open to my will.
I then imparted the eldritch concepts I saw in the vision. It was the first time casting it, and I wasn’t entirely sure what it would do. I just knew it should fling the enemy away.
I could feel my will slipping more and more. The fight, and now casting like that, took its toll.
Finally, once I thought I couldn’t take it anymore, I pushed myself out of the space and arrived in front of the magical bomb in front of me.
“Oss’Ygra-Thaal,” I spoke, picking the only name from the Thousand Young I knew.
And then what would happen became clear to me.
The Young would kick the enemy. It wasn’t a powerful attack or one that could kill. But the trick was that the spell was practically unavoidable, as the kick would come from the void right into the soul.
I could hear something that sounded like an indescribable cacophony of goat screams, and the energy impacted the mutant’s soul.
The impact on the spirit disrupted the cast as the mutnat was flung away.
Some of the spells still activated, but he was far away by then, crashing through the branches.
I fell to one knee and, looking around, saw that Rey and the cat were frozen in place, eyes wide with fear.
Witnessing that took a toll, I imagine.
But it was not the time to ponder. Groaning, I forced myself up and approached the lying enemy, ignoring the pain in my head, ready to deal a killing blow as I wove another Bone Spear with the remainder of my third-circle mana.
The mutant was barely gathering itself, or trying to, as the limbs all wanted to go at the same time. Peter’s eyes were also clearer, and the horror in them was indescribable.
Then the face over the shoulder saw me. It tried to attack, but barely any mana showed. It must have used up all of its magic in that massive attack. Now all that was left was a sad creature moving its limbs without any coordination.
I didn’t know what to do. The thing transformed from a deadly mutant to a scared, hurt teenager in a matter of seconds.
I was also in no state to ponder my family code.
After a second of hesitation, I took a sleeping draft from my belt and approached him. Before Peter could say anything, I poured a sizable amount into his mouth. I could see the body relax, the fragmented remains of the mind unable to heal or resist the potion.
I would decide what's next after a spiritual healing potion.
I then turned to the scene behind me.
To the left, Liz was still trying to stop the bleeding, while Cecil stopped moving, only his mouth opening and closing like that of a fish out of water.
Mercy was still lying in shock next to the cliff.
I then turned to Rey and Cuddles. The cat shook off the effect of witnessing my magic and continued to ride the larger zombie.
I saw that he looked at the hook lying on the moss.
“Curiosity killed the cat,” I said loudly, getting his attention.
He looked at me, a mixture of emotions in his eyes.
“If you think you can take me, be my guest,” I said as I smiled at him.
Honestly, now he might even have a chance.
“I… I’m not here to fight you.”
“Then why didn’t you send the last zombie into the fray?”
“Precaution.”
“Well, there is nothing to be cautious about now, is there?”
We stared at each other. Some greed flashed in the animal’s eyes, but as I raised my staff, it dissipated. The cat jumped to the ground and sent the zombie away as it wobbled into the forest.
“I helped with the fight. I want the pouch and all I found in it.”
“That’s fair. You still want to bury your ancestor’s charge in the tomb?”
“Yes,” the cat answered firmly.
So it looked like it wasn’t all bullshit. Although I’m not sure he came here purely to help me, probably the eldritch spell helped calm any greed for the Butcher’s legacy.
“Deal, then,” said the cat, and, still keeping his eyes on me, slowly walked after the zombie, away from the hook.
I then looked at the artifact lying in the severed hand. I started approaching it slowly until I finally stood over the hook, gazing at the metallic surface of the ancient weapon.
Before I could pick it up, I heard a scream.
“Cecil!” shouted Rey as he finally regained control over himself.
I looked back at the scene. “That will be hard to deal with,” I sighed.
Comments
Devourerofwords
He killed his dad there could be no happy ending. Irregardless if Peter can be healed back to normal there is no going back to being civilian. Perhaps it's time our MC start to recruit support staff and foot soldiers for his domain
Sir Files
I sort of hope that Peter gets something of a happy ending. I figure even if Peter ends up heavily deformed, if he has any spark of magic it might end up as a situation where our MC brings him back as an experiment for soul surgery. I kind of hope Cecil ends up dead from his actions though. What kind of weirdo gets excited about trying to catch a killer in your hometown specifically for youtube fame. That guy doesn't have an altruistic bone in his body
