The Bloodforged Kin

Chapter 229 - 223: Mason - Howling, Hungry Death

An unearthly cry sounded across the miles surrounding Mason's mansion as every wendigo arched its head back in unison. Ripples of sound moved through the air like a physical thing, and where it passed Hunger Frenzy turned allies into food. Throughout the ranks pupils dilated and people began to salivate. Heads turned to face those around them and primal, hungry thoughts climbed their way to the surface.

"Why does he always get the attention?"

"What has he done that I haven't?"

"Why does he always DO THAT? It makes me SO ANGRY!"

"God, I would love to snap his neck right now."

"If you bump into me ONE MORE TIME!"

"He got to go to the harem instead of me, even though I did most of the work!"

"He went to the harem - did he fuck my wife?"

"Why does he get a sword when I wanted a sword?"

"Why does he get to use magic and I don't?"

"God, I'm SO. HUNGRY!"

"I'm so hungry."

"I'm so hungry I could eat a horse."

"I'm so hungry I could eat… him."

Hunger of every type imaginable roared to the surface of their thoughts, and the humanity of Mason's army was crushed beneath it. Hunger is a vital thing - the deep, primal, evolutionary parts of our brain have taught us that hunger equals death, and death is to be avoided at all costs. People didn't need to eat anymore and most hadn't in close to a year. The urge was gone and most never thought about it anymore.

They thought about it now, though. It's all they thought about.

The rending of Mason's army began.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" Jim's cry went unheeded as his army tore itself to pieces. Swords found bellies, clubs found heads, teeth found throats. The stronger-willed amongst the soldiers kept their wits, backing away from their frenzied comrades with swords and shields held high, eyes wide with panic.

Jim knew the answer to his question even as he yelled it - he'd seen it in the magical abilities of the wendigo. Hunger Frenzy would activate every primal hunger, every need, every jealousy that his men harbored. Any time they felt slighted or cheated was being amplified to an insane degree by the howls of the wendigos. He ran through his men, yanking them off of each other only to find himself fighting the very men he was trying to protect.

"Okay, you planned for this." He raised his voice and activated Vanguard's Call. "STOP."

The commanding shout washed over his men like a cleansing wind, clearing their minds of all fear and mind-controlling effects. Dazed expressions cleared and his men looked at each other, looked at their bloodied hands, wiped blood and flesh from their mouths. Suddenly they were pulling each other to their feet and cries of apology and regret could be heard from every quarter. Jim's effect would only last for five minutes and it had an hour cooldown time, so he needed to make the most of it.

He didn't need to shout - the skill not only removed harmful psychic attacks, it sent his command directly to the minds of everyone under his command. "KILL THE WENDIGO NOW. FULL ASSAULT." He pulled out his last trump card, hoping it would be enough.

He cast Aegis of the Fallen and shields sprung up around a small portion of his army. The spell was powered by the deaths of those that had fallen while under his command - one shield per death. On the one hand, he was grateful that there were so few shields - thanks to the healing pool of Phoenix's Resurgence. But on the other hand, he wished dearly that he had enough shields for everyone. He'd done what he could, though, and the rest would be up to his men.

The wendigos looked around in confusion as the bloodlust frenzy stopped and the army turned to face them, hatred in their eyes.

There was a second rending then, one that left only scraps where wendigos had been standing.

Craig watched as the wendigos stopped their attacks and pulled back. He'd seen this coming and had been ready. He cast Indomitable Focus, his mind focusing to an extreme degree, pushing side distractions and obstacles. His thoughts become razor-sharp.

"FULL ASSAULT! DON'T LET THEM HOWL!"

The shield wall split and men rushed through the ranks at a sprint. The shield bearers kneeled and positioned their shields on their backs so that the men of the second and third ranks could use them as springboards to leap over the first wave of attackers. Craig watched in cold, calculated slow motion thanks to his focus. The howls would begin a split second before the first wave arrived. The second wave would land just behind the first, the probability high of removing 80% of the threats immediately. The remaining 20% would activate their skills before being struck down, but the rapid pace of the waves would ensure that they crashed into the remaining wendigos before the first had time for the spell to take effect. If the spell caused his first wave to turn on the remainder they would be buried under the second and third, effectively removing their ability to do damage. Expected loss of life: 3%. Well within acceptable parameters.

What he hadn't considered, much to his private shame, was the fortitude of his soldiers. Platoon 1 focused on tactics and battle formation, Platoon 3 on raw power, Platoon 4… well, they weren't worth thinking about. Most soldiers focused on Strength and Agility, but if you were a part of Craig's team you honed your mind as much as you did your body.

Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.

The first second of wendigo cries sounded and were silenced almost instantly. Under 1% fell sway to their cries. Craig mentally marked them for additional willpower training. It was grueling and caused nightmares, or so he'd been told, but a weak mind was unacceptable. Those soldiers would be sent back to the mansion to await reconditioning.

Under a 1% loss of life. He let a small amount of satisfaction warm him before tamping down on the excess of emotion.

Doug watched in horror as his people turned on each other. Passions ran high in his platoon, and for the first time he was seeing how dangerous that could be. What could he do? Try to stop 250 men from tearing each other apart? He leapt into the air, soaring high above the platoon that was in complete disarray. He came down hard in the center of the closest group, his Cometfall skill sending people flying in every direction. They were dazed, but just a small collection of the whole. He couldn't do this to all of them! Even now they were climbing to their feet and going at each other again.

He turned an eye to the six remaining wendigos that were howling in front of his army. He may not be able to stop his men, but he could sure as hell stop them.

He was in the air again, landing between the two closest, the flames from his landing catching them on fire even as they flew through the air. He found the next and took its head completely off its body with a flame-empowered fist, sprinting to the next before the body had fully caught on fire.

The other three saw what he was doing and began walking backwards, grouping together, but not stopping their incessant scream. He felt the rage bubble up inside of him and he looked back at his men. Why did he always have to save them? Why was he the one doing the hard work while they stood behind him, begging for his protection?

His steps faltered and the lupine grins of the wendigos broadened. Their howling increased and he felt an uncontrollable urge to tear into his men. He was stronger than any of them! He would show them! Flames traveled back up his arms as he began a loping run towards the closest group of men. He pushed his flame skills even harder - he would burn them all to cinders!

The flames spread over his chest and something in his skill felt full to bursting. More power! He pulled on it, demanding more power. More destruction. He would become a nuclear bomb and show all of them that he wasn't some Fire Fister, he was The Firefist!

The skill burst and he was flooded with new power. His entire body was wreathed in flames and he felt his feet lift from the ground with the power of it. He realized instinctually that he could fly now, powered by the purest fire this world had ever seen. The flames that covered his body poured inwards and a cleansing purity followed. Fire burned out everything. He realized he could think again and took a moment to review the skill.

Inferno's Purge: Harness the raw destructive energy of flame to purify your body and mind. This skill allows you to expunge poisons, toxins, and mind-altering effects while simultaneously empowering you with an overwhelming surge of fire-based power.

Effects:

Instantly remove all debuffs, poisons, toxins, and mind-altering effects.

Enhanced power to all flame based attacks as well as speed, power, and durability (5 minutes).

A powerful aura surrounds you, allowing for flight. Anything caught in the aura risks being incinerated (1 minute per level).

He turned in mid-air, staring down at the three pieces of tinder that were staring intently back at him. He dove.

Mason slammed into, and through, the mansion wall, skidding across the marble floor. He climbed to his feet and ripped a marble balustrade off of the stairway before marching back through the hole in the wall. "Get your ass over here, Jeff! Try that shit again!"

Jeff now towered over Mason, which was saying a lot. Platoon 4 was on the ground, most of them unconscious or too weak to move. Jeff rushed Mason, building up speed as he went. Mason pivoted at the last moment and brought the balustrade down on the charging man's head, driving it into the ground and shattering cobblestones. Taking advantage of Jeff's position Mason swung over and over, until the makeshift club shattered in his hands. He kicked and winced as Jeff barely moved.

Jeff climbed to his feet again, wiping blood from his mouth and smiling. "You think you're so high and mighty, ruling over us peasants. What have YOU done? What makes you deserve all of this?" He waved his hand towards the mansion. "I should have this - it's mine and I'm taking it!"

"Come and take it then, asshole." Mason grabbed the headless statue sitting at the center of the dry fountain and swung it like a bat, the half-ton sculpture only causing Jeff to stutter backwards a few steps.

"You're not strong enough to hold it - but I am! And with the army under my control I'll be invincible!"

"Invincible this," Mason lunged forward and delivered his hardest strike in the man's stomach, crying out in pain as his fist shattered.

"Weak, weak, WEAK!" Jeff grabbed Mason by the throat and threw him again. He could have ended it, but he was reveling in his inevitable victory, drunk with the power he'd consumed. "I am the Juggernaut and I am the strongest man alive!"

"You are no longer in command." A calm voice said. Mason and Jeff whipped their heads around in surprise to see General Tom standing in the courtyard, the Hellbound behind him.

"What did you say, pipsqueak?" Jeff took a threatening step forward.

"I said, you're no longer in command. I strip you of your command of Platoon 4. You have no rank and no men report to you."

"You can't do that! I am in control! I am in command! I am…" he looked down at his hands, squeezing them into fists with realization. He looked up at the General again, his voice low and desperate. "You can't do this. Please don't do this! I had so much power!"

"Do you think I don't know the full skillsets of the men under my command?" Tom leveled a disgusted look at the man who had shrunken back to his regular size. Still large, but not imposing. "Your skills are entirely based on the people under your command. Without them, you have no power. You're nothing."

"You can't do this." Jeff dropped to his knees, staring at his hands like betrayers. "You took everything from me!"

"You did that yourself. You could have been one of the greatest - and we needed you for what's coming, but you've lost the respect of your men - if you ever had it. And more importantly, you've lost the respect of your superiors."

Jeff glared up at Tom and Mason, defiant. "I don't have any superiors."

"You don't have shit without me." Mason kicked him hard enough to crumple his chest and send him flying to the distant reaches of the property. He turned a furious eye on his general. "Get in here, now."

He stomped into the house and General Tom followed silently, coming to terms with the fact that his life was about to end.

"Lilith, get in here! And bring one of those people out there with you!" After roaring the command Mason paced the expansive living room in silence, holding his hand tightly to his chest. Lilith flowed into the room, followed by Jonas, who was dragging an unconscious man.

"He doesn't have much health left, Sapper took most of it," she warned. She knew what he wanted without asking.

"So take it all! And get others! I don't give a shit how many it takes, heal this!" He thrust his broken hand in her face, the bones broken and sharp as they stuck out of his skin. Lilith complied silently as Jonas moved outside to drag two more soldiers in. General Tom looked on disapprovingly - it was a waste of soldiers to use them like this. But as needs must, and all of that.

Two more bodies later and Jonas was dragging their corpses back into the front yard. Mason sighed in pleasure as he rubbed his hand. "That is so much better. Get out, my General here and I need to have a little chat."

Lilith didn't need another warning as she fled the room, warning everyone to stay outside.