The Infinite Bk. 05 Ch. 02

Welindar had withstood Uther's assault for years, and many residents weren't ready to give up the fight simply because a new flag was over their heads. From the ashes of Welindar's military, a rebellion grew, sabotaging us wherever and whenever they could. Throughout the summer and fall, they attacked supply lines, interrupted communications with Colbrand, kidnapped soldiers, incited riots in the streets, and did whatever they could to weaken our hold on the city.

We managed to regain control over the winter. Then, when spring arrived, something had changed. Huge, hulking abominations began appearing in the city and across the countryside. These disgusting, mindless fiends brought untold slaughter to both soldier and beastman alike. Our weapons and spells could break bone and tear flesh just as their claws and fangs could do to us, but we could not counter their deranged fury and unstoppable drive. How do you fight a monster that will trample over its own entrails to rip out your throat? It didn't take long to realize many of these monsters had originally been beastmen.

Despite their power, it seemed like they died on their own accord more often than not. Most of the more giant fiends we encountered in the wild were already dead, showing no wounds, and their bodies were so disfigured that you'd wonder how they ever lived for even a day. That was when we discovered the source of this evil. Each of these monsters had parasites attached to their bodies, these huge leeches that seemed to transform their hosts into bloodthirsty demons. The knights and soldiers believed it was some kind of pestilence, like locusts, but Prince Lupin had another idea. He claimed that these creatures were being made with purpose like a blacksmith makes a sword or an alchemist makes a potion.

The insurgents were quick to weaponize it, and as time went on, both the parasites and their hosts underwent further changes, becoming more stable and robust. Now, they can transform back and forth at will without losing their minds. Since then, they've wreaked havoc on our forces, slaughtering soldiers in broad daylight. At least they have enough sanity not to go killing innocents. We've been trying to track down the source of these parasites, but even if we manage to take a host alive, getting answers out of them isn't easy.

We discovered that they were weak against holy magic, but as soon as it seemed like we were turning the tide, they learned to immediately target all of our paladins. Now, we have just a handful of healers left. Prince Lupin has been trying to get ahold of his brother and Sir Tarnas, but they can't be found. All of our weapons are imbued with holy enchantments, inflicting some added damage, but not nearly enough. Elemental weapons only work correctly in the hands of a compatible magic user.

Anyway, not too long ago, we raided a building and found some kind of workshop hidden in the cellar, where parasites were being cultivated. It was just one piece of a larger network, but the tools, notes, and setup were like nothing we had ever seen before. That's when Prince Lupin sent me to find you."

"Interesting. I have a feeling the setup you found isn't wholly different from scenes in my past. Tell me something, were their parasites growing in cylindrical tanks full of fluid?"

The question surprised Reynolds. "Yes, how did you know?"

"Because there's ALWAYS something growing in a cylindrical tank. It's what separates the scientists from the mad scientists. I think I can help you guys out. In his letter, Prince Lupin said that he believes these monsters are a sign that the Profane have returned. Do you share that belief?"

"I'm not sure. I just hope he's wrong."

"What are the Profane?" one soldier asked. "I've heard them mentioned a few times in my life, but no one ever goes into detail."

"I've been researching them lately, and the stories paint a vivid picture. Long ago, a demon named Zyrga tried to drown the world in blood and darkness, but was vanquished by the Enochians. The records don't say whether destroying the body would have some kind of grave consequence or if it was simply impossible, but the Enochians took the dead demon and sealed it, hoping it would never be found. Eventually, though, everything gets found.

Though the demon was slain, its power was reborn in new vessels. They were the Profane, a cult born in reverence to a fallen god. They inherited its power and will to devour and corrupt all life. They multiplied, not through procreation, but by infecting others with their venom, sharing their unholy power. In his letter, Prince Lupin referred to the monsters we're fighting as 'fiends,' a subspecies of the Profane. They are those who manifest their corruption with grotesque transformations.

Led by Somerset, the Mad Elf King, the armies of the Profane spread, feasting upon the flesh and blood of the innocent, defiling every temple and grave, and poisoning the soil beneath their feet. The people that weren't eaten were transformed, ensuring a steady source of new members. The power they wielded vanquished armies, razed nations, and turned heroes into bloody splatters. Just as it took the combined strength of the Enochians to slay Zyrga, so too did the races of the world unite to wipe out this evil.

Ever since the end of the war, people in all corners of the world continue to tell stories of night raids, investigating bumps in the night and finding a loved one being preyed upon in bed by a Profane intruder. Upon discovery, these predators flee into the dark, leaving behind a body drained of blood or missing chunks of flesh. For centuries, that's all they were: stories, tall tales passed around by anxious folk, afraid of their own shadows.

However, it seems the Profane are resilient and making their grand return to power. At the basilisk gala, I warned the prince that the beast you fought was the result of someone's handiwork, and something worse was on the horizon. It seems that I was right. Hopefully, they'll provide a good show."

They resumed their travel the next day, heading exponentially closer to a horizon forever beyond their reach. The soldiers were quiet, left spooked by Noah's story. He was just glad Valia wasn't looking at him the way they were. She strived to support him, to try and soothe his scars, and to not criticize the sins of his past.

It was near midday when she finally raised her hand. "Whoa! Stop!" The group halted, everyone looking at her as she put her hands to her ears, trying to catch the faint sound.

"What is it?" Noah asked.

"Battle. I hear several men, and... roars, snarls. I think they're fighting the fiends. Noah," she said as she turned to him.

He sighed. "Ugh, you want to save them, don't you?"

"Time to wake up your sleeping conscience."

"My men and I have orders to get you two to Welindar. I'm not jeopardizing their lives or the mission!" Reynolds shouted.

"Every monster we kill now is one we won't have to kill later, if it doesn't kill us, and I'm not one for procrastination. As a gold-rank knight, I won't order you to assist. You can either follow me or wait here."

Valia snapped her reins and sent her horse galloping towards the source of the noise. Noah shrugged and went after her, leaving the knight and soldiers behind. As Valia raced ahead, the sounds of battle became ever clearer. Dissatisfied with her horse, she leaped off the saddle and ran. "Zodiac: Udan!" A silver magic circle appeared beneath her, and mana surged through her body. She raced across the fields, running so fast she was a blur.

She arrived at the scene where several warriors were fighting for their lives. They were members of the horse tribe, centaurs numbering less than a dozen, and had been cornered in a ravine. Their enemies were several mutated beastmen, varying in the animals they embodied, but all sharing the hulking forms granted to them by the parasites clinging to their bodies. Their bloated muscles, though deformed and asymmetrical, gave them incredible power. Along with claws, horns, and fangs, they were armed with weapons and chains and wore clothing.

The centaurs ran around with what space they had, shooting arrows from all angles to bring down their enemies. The arrows struck with pinpoint aim, but though they buried themselves deep in flesh and muscle, the behemoths seemed more annoyed than incapacitated. One fiend, having the head of a coyote with long jaws like an alligator, charged towards a centaur, moving with terrifying speed. He tackled the archer, knocking him through the air and crashing into a cliff face.

Another centaur attacked, slashing the fiend across the chest with his sword. The centaurs carried not just bows but scimitars with handles as long as the blades, allowing them to fight up close with sword techniques and at medium range with spear tactics. The sharpness of the blade was unquestionable, carving deep into the tissue, but though blood poured from the wound, it was soon replaced with noxious pus as the flesh knitted itself back together.

"Annoying fly!" the fiend growled before backhanding the man across the face, nearly snapping his neck from the force of impact and knocking him out cold.

The fiend then put a shackle around his victim's neck, with his cohorts doing the same, beating the centaurs until they couldn't fight back, then chaining them up. They dragged their half-dead captives with them while they fought, unhindered by the weight. As he turned around, three centaurs attacked at once and stabbed him through the chest with their blades.

Roaring in pain and anger, the fiend opened his jaws wide, exposing two pairs of long, sharp fangs like a staple remover. He grabbed the centaur directly before him and bit into his neck. The lower fangs, hollow, like syringes, pierced the man's Jugular and began draining him of blood. The other two centaurs pulled back, watching in horror as the demon rendered their friend into a pail, shriveled corpse, only for his head to fall off his shoulders, courtesy of Valia.

She jumped into battle, moving at super speed. She zipped around the fiends, staying in their blind spots while slashing at them so fast that her sword was almost invisible. Upon crossing the battlefield, she paused, waiting for her sliced foes to drop to the ground. To her shock, she was nearly trampled when one of the fiends, one she had cut more than five times, charged her like a mad bull. The fiend had traits of a deer, but his antlers were twisted and sharp, looking like a mass of knives. He struck a cliff, lodging his antlers in the clay and rock, and Valia sliced his head off. Behind the slain fiend, his cohorts were recovering from their wounds.

"So, I need to cut a little deeper, huh? Very well," said Valia.

One fiend with the head of a canine leaped towards her, wielding a broadsword. She nimbly dodged the blade, but rather than counter, she was forced to jump back to avoid his snapping jaws. Another fiend, covered in scales, swung at her with an iron staff, prompting her to raise her sword. "Zodiac: Badtha!"

She struck the staff with a sundering strike, causing the metal pole to snap like an icicle. Behind her, the canine fiend swung at her, and she intercepted with another slash that broke his sword at the hilt. Undeterred by their destroyed weapons, both men attacked from opposite directions with long claws. She slipped out from between them, slashing them both in the process, but though blood poured from their wounds, they barely even staggered.

Before she could deliver another strike, Valia was forced to retreat as a winged fiend attacked. Whatever bird this man once embodied, its visage was horribly corrupted, giving him ugly, gnarled feathers. He pursued her, swinging one of the chains he and his cohorts used to capture the centaurs.

She avoided the feral strikes, and when he pulled back his arm, she closed in and stabbed him through the heart. Though his wings went slack and he vomited blood, he grabbed her sword, refusing to let her pull it free. The man, his upper and lower jaws grotesquely shaped into a deformed beak, tried to peck her face. She pulled out a dagger and slashed him across the eyes to blind him, then on the wrist to make him let go of her sword so she could pull free and retreat.

As soon as she was away, a fiend with a long tail and hide of bloody fur attacked. He was wielding a sword, and unlike the canine, his technique was unhindered by his mutation. His movements were rapid and precise, creating a wall of swings and jabs with Valia on the defense. His incredible physical strength almost overwhelmed her every time she blocked, and her elven grace met its match against his unholy speed. She tried to circumvent his onslaught, but he wasn't letting her out of sight, and even when she managed to wound him, his pain tolerance allowed him to counterattack fiercely. It was no wonder Prince Lupin and his men were struggling against these monsters.

About to activate her magic, Valia heard a thunderclap going off somewhere in the distance, and the fiend in front of her stumbled. Something had shot past her faster than any arrow, so fast that Valia's elf senses could only detect it after the fact. Another crack rang out, and something struck the fiend in the chest, prompting him to instinctively cover the wound with his hand. However, there was no discernable injury or impact to his flesh. More projectiles struck the fiend in the head and chest, but though they didn't appear to be damaging him, he still flinched and jerked in surprise, feeling something that wasn't there.

"Noah," Valia said with a small smile. "Zodiac: Teez!" Trusting her instincts, Valia activated her magic and enhanced her cutting power, wrapping her sword in mana. She then attacked the distracted fiends, beheading him with ease.

Off in the distance, Noah watched her fight, not with his spyglass but with a scope. He was holding an illusory sniper rifle, a weapon he was intimately familiar with from past lives. Though it was utterly intangible, his body remembered its weight and feel in his hands as though he was holding true metal instead of just air.

Like the rifle, the scope was an illusion, but it showed him the same view a material scope would produce. Staring through it, he focused on one of the fiends and pulled the intangible trigger. The sound of a gunshot echoed out as a bullet, made of mana, was propelled from the end of the barrel and crossed the open air before hitting one of the fiends in the side of the head.

Despite the illusory bullet's lack of mass, it still drew a strong reaction from his targets whenever they landed, because though it had no effect on the physical body, it did affect the soul. Noah had tested this power on himself during experiments, and rather than cause pain, each impact produced a splash in his consciousness. Powerful ripples moved through his mana from the point of impact, bouncing back and forth in his body, not unlike the shockwave of a real bullet tearing through flesh. It shattered his focus and left him dazed, with his soldier instincts telling him he had just been shot despite the absence of a wound.

Even the fiends, drunk on power and madness, felt like someone had stepped on their graves every time a bullet struck them, and their subconscious would scream that they had been wounded. They'd look down to check, expecting to see spurting blood pouring from a hole in their body, and in that moment of distraction, Valia separated head from neck.

Once the battle ended, he rode over with her horse in tow. Before arriving, he dismounted and walked the rest of the way. From what he had read in Sylphtoria, speaking to a member of the horse tribe while on horseback was a great insult. He reached the scene of battle, where Valia was helping tend to the wounded. The centaurs accepted her help gratefully, but when Noah appeared, they retrieved their weapons.

"Stop where you are!" the group leader shouted, aiming his bow at Noah's heart.

He and his fellow warriors were garbed in various forms of armor, from leather to plate mail, and wore pack saddles on their equine backs to let them carry whatever they needed. They all had dark hair, beige skin tones, narrow eyes, and horse ears to match their lower bodies. Like their leader, the other centaurs readied their weapons to fight once more, several repeating the order in another language.

"I come in peace."

"Relax, he's with me," said Valia.

"Elves are rare in these parts, but humans? All too common. Are you from Uther?"

"We both are," said Valia, pushing his bow away from Noah's direction. "Where we come from does not matter. What matters is that we are here, having just saved your lives."

"And why would the pawns of Uther do that?"

"Because we share a common enemy," Noah said. "The politics of Handent and Uther have no bearing on our presence. My companion and I are here for a single purpose: to erase the source of these abominations. We assist Uther simply because it is Uther that asked for our help. I am Noah, the Wandering Spirit, and this is Valia Zodiac. We are your allies in this fight against evil."

"It is Uther that set these demons upon the land! The kingdom of man has angered the spirits, and they are punishing us!" another warrior shouted with a thick accent.

"It is Uther that is fighting against the demons. Like he said, we share a common enemy," said Valia.

The lead centaur raised his hand, and those under him lowered their bows. "I am Nord, of the Petosic horse tribe. Thank you for helping me save my brethren," he said to Valia.

"It was the right thing to do," said Valia. "However, your men still need tending to. Noah?"

"I'm on it."

Noah approached the wounded centaurs and began administering potions and bandages. The warriors all glared at him with distrust, but their closing wounds dulled the sharpness in their eyes. After healing the centaurs, Noah began examining the corpses of the slain fiends. After his experience in the Anorvan Forest, he wore gloves and a mask for protection.

Even with their heads cut, their organs spilled, and their limbs removed, their flesh refused to accept death. Wounds were slowly closing, and tendrils grew from the stumps of dismemberment, trying to reattach the lost limbs. Moreover, with his magic active, Noah could see the mana in their deformed bodies. A dark, evil miasma was flowing through their flesh.

"If I may ask, Nord, these fiends, how many of them have you and your men encountered?" Noah inquired as he worked.

"We've killed scores of them, animal and man alike, all transformed into abominations. However, I've never seen them like this before, able to talk and use weapons."

"Well, well, well, I think I've found the true weapon right here," said Noah as he pulled open one of the fiend's tunics, revealing a creature latched onto its chest. It appeared to be a black flatworm as large as Noah's forearm. It reacted to his presence, quivering and releasing a threatening hiss, and as his hand approached, a mat of sharp quills grew out of its back.

"My friend fought a wolfman with one of these attached. He won, but he didn't walk away in one piece. These parasites appear to be the source of the corruption, as well as a source of immense power. I don't suppose anyone in your village has one?"

"We would never allow it."

"If you were aware of it, you mean. From what I've heard, it's now possible for hosts to control at will. I imagine these slave-traders were such a case. Valia, would you mind assisting? I have need of your steel body."

Valia cast her endurance-enhancement spell and circled around the corpse, looking at the parasite with unease. "You look like you have things taken care of here."

"Just grab it and pull. I need to study this thing."

Valia took a deep breath and hesitantly grasped the creature, causing it to hiss and flap its sides. However, its spines could not pierce her skin. She tried to remove it, but it was holding on tight.