ACT III : MALICE
He learned quickly, as each day that went by, Soul Edge slowly fed him a general understanding of the world.
He stayed on the dock for the first few days, but when the sword had sensed humans moving closer it had forced him onwards, into the forests. He was not ready for combat yet, not when he could barely walk.
But soon, he would be...
He stumbled through the woods for days until finally he had become too weak and exhausted to continue. He collapsed under an outcropping, but he did not sleep.
You will overcome the limitations of this body soon enough, the blade promised. For now, you will have to share it with that fool human... But soon, I will have the power to grant you your own...
And then, it thought to itself, then you will truly be the loyal puppet I created you to be.
He could only look into the blade's eye in response. He could hear its words, but he did not fully understand yet. He knew the other being it spoke of, however, the human... The other voice that sometime managed to cry out, though it was weak, insubstantial.
Out... I want out...
Pay no heed to the ramblings of that worm, the sword said, its voice now an irritated hiss. This was his choice... He gave up his body...
He looked away from the eye of the blade, up at the stormclouds that had rolled in. Rain started to fall. He backed against the wall of the rocky outcropping to avoid getting wet.
The sword was right. This was his body now, and that weak voice that kept interrupting his thoughts was the invader. But when the invader was one of his mind, what could he do?
For now, he willed it to be silent.
You have done well in coming this far... There is a human settlement close. Raze it to the ground...Let none remain alive. It is time for our first harvest.
He was still unaware of what it meant in saying this. Harvest...? Nonetheless, he continued forward until he came to the village the sword had spoken of. There were humans moving around within, and he waited for a moment on the edge of the trees, watching. Children darted around the streets, shrieking with laughter. Parents yelled in irritated voices for them to stop. A few carried supplies, tools, food, or firewood. Preparation for the winter that was fast approaching.
He did not move forward, rather, he waited for a few moments, observing.
This is your sustenance, my puppet... Your prey...
And then, the other voice, made suddenly more powerful by the sight of civilization, memories of his old life, spoke up.
No! They're innocents! You can't kill them...
That voice... Determined, self-righteous... so irritating. This was his body now, and that lowly maggot had no say in what transpired from this point forth.
Hahaha... Go on, just try to resist... This body no longer belongs to you, fool... The blade hissed.
Still, the voice cried out. But it grew weaker once more, just the faded ramblings of an insignificant insect.
He had observed enough. He moved forward.
Do not reveal yourself to them just yet. Humans abhor that which is different from themselves... And you do not entirely resemble them...
He looked at his right arm. Soul Edge was correct. He had not seen another human with such a monstrous appendage. So, obeying its order, he remained in the trees for as long as he could until he was forced into an empty street. He was closer to the humans now, and he could feel the life force radiating from them... Power that he now wanted nothing more than to add to his own.
Heheh... And these are only the weaklings. Imagine the souls you'll reap on the battlefield...
He was nearly giddy with the thought that there was more power than this to be found in the humans, but he was drawn back to the essences of those he was encountering now. He couldn't take their souls soon enough... He did not know how he would do it, but he trusted that this strange blade, which he had come to see as something like a parent in the short few days of his existence, would show him the way.
He rounded a corner, inhaling a deep breath of the cold, damp morning air. It was almost as if the very air itself held some sort of power. And these were only the weaklings?
He was about to keep moving when he felt it - a human was moving closer. He waited patiently as a man, weathered-looking but tall and strong, approached him. There was no hostility in his expression, as the blade's puppet was turned slightly so that his malformed arm was mostly hidden from veiw.
"I take it you're not from here, hm? You a drifter or something?"
He had a vague understanding of the words the man spoke, but he could find none of his own to form a response.
"Come on, answer me... Can you not sp--" The man stopped mid-sentence, his eyes widening as the demon turned so that he was now directly facing him. "Th...that... your arm... what... what happened to... What... are you?"
He looked down at his arm, then back up at the man. His expression remained blank.
"Monster... You're a monster..."
He watched, with detached curiosity, as the man produced a shortsword and readied himself to strike. When the strike came, he managed a sloppy dodge partially out of instinctual self-preservation and partially because the movement had been forced by Soul Edge. But he hadn't managed to avoid it completely, and now dark blood was oozing from the wound his left shoulder had received. It left a stain on his already grimy tunic. A wave of pain hit seconds later, and his clawed hand automatically flew to the wound.
Oh, look... He's injured you. Fool human... Why don't... you return the favor?
Yes... He would do just that. Hatred, rage at this worm, welled up, and he gripped his own blade tighter in his fist. He took a step forward, and swung the sword expertly, as though combat was second nature. The man tried to parry, but his blade was knocked aside like a child's toy and the cursed blade connected with the side of his neck, severing his head. It hit the ground with a satisfying thud, and blood spurted from the open veins, splattering over the cobbled street.
And then, that power, that wave of power came. He shuddered. It was incredible, stealing that human's life force.
And that was only one weakling, my child...
Only one... it was only one! If just one held this much power, this much substance... What would more be?
What would this whole village be...?
Yes, the blade was right. The whole village would be unfathomable. That much power... He needed that power.
Slowly, he moved onwards, following the beckoning whispers of the human essences he longed so much to consume...
Look, my puppet.
He pulled the sword from the now-dead blacksmith, kicking the body aside. The power came in a rush again. It almost made him dizzy.
On the walls, here... That is armor. It will offer you some protection against whatever fool humans dare to attack you like the first did. Take it. There isn't anything to stop you... You are entitled to it.
He did take it, looking over a few different sets of the platemail before settling on one that seemed most likely to fit him. It was a dull, metallic blue in color.
With some difficulty, he managed to put each piece on. He tossed aside the right gauntlet, as it would not fit and the thick, leathery skin of that arm was protection enough. At last, to finish, he reached for the helmet, slowly slipping it onto his head. It had a full visor, completely obscuring his face save for his flame-colored eyes, which glowed eerily from beneath the helmet's shadow. Two grooved metal fins started at the center of its top, ending at the back of his neck, and a single steel horn protruded from the front, over his forehead.
He liked the helmet, and the way it hid his face from view. He felt somehow less exposed. And it only added to his inhuman appearance, which would draw a challenge...
He knew what he had to do now. He would slaughter any who crossed his path, taking their souls as he did, acquiring their power to add to his own...
Yes, go my child! Show the fool humans what they have long since forgotten! Make them remember why they fear the darkness!
Let none remain in your wake!
Death! Death to them all!