The flesh of the Kirin tasted divine, even though Redmane had to scavenge about for all its pieces. The momentary delay between bites just made the meat all the more delectable.

  As for its physical qualities, there was much to appreciate.

  The Kirin had evaded Redmane with naught but its natural grace, as it turned out. It did not possess any sort of precognitive Skills. Simply the harmony of the mechanisms of its mind and body. In his mind’s eye, he could inspect the impressively efficient system of its brain and nerves and muscles.

  And since it was now his, he altered his own innards to match the design. The results might be hard to quantify, but time would tell.

  The Kirin’s other features were good but unremarkable. It had long broad wings made for prolonged soaring, the legs and sharp claws of a wolf. Its eyes were made for keeping watch over a wide area.

  Prey eyes.

  He had little use for those.

  The most notable feature of the Kirin was its horn, which Redmane now wore on his left temple as if he were a devil who had lost one of its horns to an axe. He could sprout a matching horn on the other side, but there was no practical reason to do so.

  Aesthetics were the last thing on his mind.

  He now faced the center of the circle of bones. Another slice of himself, contained for too long. Redmane could feel its anger. Its desire to break free.

  The moment he touched it, a battle of wills would begin.

  Last time, he had some surprise assistance. This time he did not know if he would be so fortunate.

  But there was no alternative. It was do or die. He’d won once, he could win again.

  Redmane closed his eyes, drew in a deep breath and slowly released it. He repeated this a few times, to still his nerves, and when he opened his eyes again and approached the center of the circle, he did so with steel in his gaze.

  He mouthed the words, ‘I will not be consumed,’ as he reached out and touched the seething mass of energy.

  And, as before, his world became fire.

  The pain was less of a shock this time. It swept over him like a wave of boiling water, but he held firm. He envisioned himself floating in the dark, as if he’d found himself in a place like the Abyss, just hotter.

  A massive shape coalesced before him. As it had at the Seal of the Gryphon, the form of Kraal the Devourer grew and defined itself, constituted itself from the burning mass of their environment. Every mote of that fire was invested with hate, with resentment, with a desire for revenge.

  It was a feeling he knew intimately. A feeling he shared.

  But it would not take him by surprise this time.

  This time he would initiate the hostilities for a change.

  Redmane threw his head back and roared, sending shockwaves out through the sweltering void. And as he did so his stomach sprouted an immense maw full of jagged teeth that roared along with it.

  He extended his arms and two fanged mouths grew on his palms. All four of his mouths inhaled.

  Deeply.

  Working together to build a mighty vortex.

  He thought he felt a moment of amusement in the soul of Kraal, before it answered in kind.

  It had but one maw, but it was cavernous. Large enough to eat mountains, to swallow castles whole.

  It was the last thing many in the old world ever saw.

  Two vortices met in the space between them, like tornadoes which had been turned on their side, and they lashed themselves together.

  Now began the contest of strength, and will.

  This one felt stronger than the last. But he was stronger too. He was three fifths of the whole now, and he would be damned if he didn’t walk away from this with the fourth.

  But his opponent didn’t budge. It would not submit. Like him, it wanted to be the one in control. Redmane could feel its thoughts and emotions as if they were his own. He could see what Kraal envisioned. Another period of bedlam in the land, of mortals running in fear as it destroyed their cities and towns and villages, as it drank the rivers dry and swallowed livestock by the herd and smashed through mighty castle walls as if they were built of mud and pebbles.

  He felt the sheer joy of its recollections. Its exultation. How it longed to roam unchecked again, devouring all in its path.

  Redmane began to enjoy its reminiscences.

  After all, was not the rage of Kraal justified?

  What solace was there for the downtrodden? For the abused?

  Why was it the role of the victim to be compassionate with the cruel?

  The rage of Kraal was the rage of a tormented people.

  It was the will of a King inverted, unmasked, revealed to all and to himself.

  The rage of Kraal was just. It was righteous.

  Redmane’s eyes widened when he realized what was happening.

  It wasn’t trying to use force on him this time. It was moving with the flow instead, getting close to his mind and his heart, revealing itself in an attempt to inspire sympathy and understanding. Just without words. In this place, it could make Redmane experience these things as if he had lost none of his memories, as if he’d been there himself.

  In truth, he had.

  But the memory wouldn’t change his mind.

  Blood called out to blood, indeed. But someday the cycle must come to an end.

  Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

  The wrath of a victim would no longer be justified after avenging itself several times over. After wreaking death and suffering in magnitudes far beyond that which it had suffered itself.

  It had to end someday.

  By a strong and disciplined hand.

  His hand.

  Kraal the Devourer roared its displeasure, and the sound rang in Redmane’s ears like an explosion. In the material world, the roar would have traveled for hundreds of miles. It would have cowed thousands of mortal hearts into a state of quivering terror.

  To Redmane, it sounded like the cry of a child who hadn’t been thrashed enough.

  He had it.

  Distantly he felt the presence of the others in his mind, as he had the last time, but there was no need for speech now. Only focus. Redmane closed his eyes and directed all of his willpower to the presence of Kraal the Devourer.

  A storm raged around them, and it grew more intense as his focus sharpened. The space where their vortices met became the nexus of winds so strong they could have shredded stone walls, flattened towns and villages, uprooted ancient trees,

  Redmane held firm.

  And Kraal inched ever closer to him.

  He could feel its thrashing, its fury. Its futile resistance to the thing it truly required.

  Growth. Temperance. Assimilation into a stronger, wiser form.

  The story had played out. The lessons had been learned. Now it was time to come together and face new threats from without.

  Something about that final thought made the mind of Kraal slip, for only a moment. It expressed something like curiosity.

  And then Redmane’s vortex swallowed it whole.

  —

  Might +30

  Grace +30

  Fortitude +30

  Armor +20

  Evasion +20

  Skill Evolved:

  Devourer

  Bloodline Skill (Monstrous)

  Rank 4 - Evolution Possible

  Passive

  Rank 0:

  The Monster derives sustenance from anything, and its digestion produces no waste. Its teeth and jaws can chew through most substances with sustained effort.

  The Monster's consumption of flesh restores its Corpus, and consumption of magic restores its Gnosis. All caps for Corpus and Gnosis, regardless of source, are removed.

  The consumption of refined metals will permanently increase the Monster's Armor and the damage of its physical natural weapons, such as claws, bite, horns, talons or spines. Damage and Armor gains are proportionate to the quantity and purity of metals consumed.

  When the Monster consumes the flesh of a creature possessing a Skill, it will adopt that Skill as its own at Rank 1. If the creature possesses multiple Skills, the Monster will acquire that creature's highest Ranked Skill. If the creature possesses more than one Skill tied for highest Rank, the Monster acquires them all.

  Skills obtained in this way increase in Rank by whatever process the Monster gains in power, if any.

  When the Monster consumes weapons and armor with special qualities, it may allocate those qualities to its physical natural weapons, such as claws, bite, horns, talons or spines, if it possesses any. Armor qualities may be allocated as long as the Monster possesses a natural Armor bonus. If the Damage and Armor Penetration values of a consumed weapon are higher than that of the Monster’s natural weapons, the natural weapons will gain the difference between the two as a permanent bonus.

  The Monster may also consume Talismans and Vestments, thereby inheriting whatever bonuses or special qualities they conferred while worn.

  Rank 1:

  The Monster consumes the souls of sapient beings it has eaten.

  The souls of consumed beings take residence in the Monster’s Soulspace, and may speak to and hear one another and the Monster as if all were physically present. If the Monster no longer wishes to speak or listen to souls occupying its Soulspace, it can block communication from them at any time.

  If the Monster possesses a Skill capable of creating a minion, it may imbue the minion with the soul of a being previously consumed by Devourer. The soul retains the ability to use all its Skills, provided the form it occupies possesses sufficient Gnosis to use them. If the minion in question is slain or dismissed by the Monster, the soul returns immediately to the Monster’s Soulspace.

  At any time, the Monster may destroy the soul of a being it has consumed, granting it a sum of Gnosis proportionate to the strength of the soul in question.

  Rank 2:

  The Monster's mouth becomes a vortex of indiscriminate consumption.

  This ability functions as the opposite of a breath weapon. A conical area centered on the Monster’s mouth functions as a vortex, drawing in any objects within its range. Upon ingestion, these objects will bestow upon the Monster any benefits they would confer if they were eaten normally. The Monster’s Soulspace serves as a repository for consumed souls per the norm, although the vortex has no effect on incorporeal creatures.

  The vortex has an effective Might score equal to the Monster's, for the purpose of determining its ability to pull heavy objects in. The size of the cone will increase as Rank increases.

  Rank 3:

  The Monster consumes the incorporeal as well as the physical.

  If the Monster can perceive incorporeal creatures, such as ghosts or spirits, it can eat them. This capability extends to the Monster’s vortex, which is not limited to a conical area for the purpose of this aspect of the Skill.

  Instead, the Monster can draw in all incorporeal creatures in a spherical area around it. This vortex use differs from the main version; they cannot be used simultaneously.

  The Monster may send consumed ghosts or spirits to its Soulspace, or digest them for their Gnosis and Skills.

  Rank 4:

  The Monster consumes Skills.

  This differs from the monster’s capacity to assimilate the Skills of a creature it has devoured. It may now consume a Skill as it is used. For example, it may consume an attack skill targeting either itself or its immediate vicinity. Furthermore, the Monster may consume any persistent Skill it locates, irrespective of the caster’s proximity.

  Skills may be eaten by whatever mechanism the monster possesses to eat, and consumed Skills are learned as if the Monster had eaten the Skill user’s flesh.

  This ability is limited to Skills which manifest outside the Skill user’s body.

  —

  Redmane fell to his hands and knees, drenched in blood and sweat, his breath coming in heaves.

  He had indeed grown stronger. It was easier that time.

  His only hope was that the final Seal would be similarly compliant.

  When he was able to, he had a seat and let his body and mind cool down, and then he read through the wall of text the System had thrown at him the moment he came out of the trance.

  He read the last part carefully.

  Interesting.

  He could devour and learn Skills directly now.

  He supposed he could ask his Magister allies to cast Skills at him, which he could eat, and then he would become adept at sorcery as well. He wondered if the Flame of Redmane would consume Skills on his behalf. This would have to be tested.

  It would be wise to stop and check on the others at this point.

  Much had been accomplished in a satisfactorily short period of time, but the most arduous battles still lay ahead.

  Flora sat upon a mossy boulder in Midva Forest and surveyed her handiwork.

  Much had been accomplished in a satisfactorily short period of time.

  What was before a most mundane forest was now something magical. The trees had grown mighty, their trunks strengthened, their canopies expanded and their roots deepened into the earth, as if her touch had given them a thousand of years of growth. The flowers and bushes and grasses and vines were all thriving as well, and there was a hint of her Gnosis in everything.

  It made the forest glow.

  The effect was most prominent in the leaves and flowers.

  She smiled as she looked about. The scene called to something inside her, a hazy memory. Like a painting hung on the wall by a forgotten pair of hands.

  In every Zone her lord Redmane had conquered, she’d done the same. This primeval scenery now covered much of central and northern Volos, and it thrummed with power. The animal life was already changing. Adapting to the richness of the magic in the air and the water, in their food.

  It was all quite young, like her. But soon it would truly be a paradise.

  All was not perfect, however.

  She had many eyes. And some of those spied a group of soldiers marching to the perimeter of their domain. To the edge of her forest. They brought peculiar machinery with them. Flora wasn’t knowledgeable about such things. She reminded herself to ask their allies hiding on the world of Astia if they knew what they were, but her link to herself was faint across such a distance.

  They did not see her, but she saw them. And so she watched as they built themselves a camp and prepared these odd devices.

  They appeared to be wagons, with four wheels and a compartment for a driver. But it was pulled by no beast of burden. Instead its front face bore a pair of large horn-like tubes. There were a dozen of them, perhaps more.

  Were they going to come into the forest and play her a concert?

  That didn’t seem likely.

  She watched them continue to prepare the machines, her interest growing as their preparations seemed to be drawing to a close. One man went around to the rear of the wagon to turn a knob, and the other one sitting in the driver’s chair pulled a lever.

  Her eyes grew wide when those horns spat jets of fire into the air.

  PATREON