Arknights: Pilgrimage of Eternity

by Tall-Gothic-Guy

Hero of Minos. Champion of Sargon. Intruder of Siracusa. Dancer of Iberia. Guest of Aegir. Retriever of Laterano. Challenger of Kazdel. Exile of Yan. Advisor of Higashi. Ripper of Victoria. Speaker of Gaul. Minister of Bolivar. Pioneer of Columbia. Scholar of Kjerag. Tracker of RIM Billiton. Teacher of Leithania. Murderer of Kazimierz. Shaman of Sami. And today, the Bane of Ursus.

1. Signed here by Buldrokkas'tee

On the day when the country Minos was yet to be united and called by a hero named Minos and was at war with Sargon, I was born….or rather, I gained self-awareness that day.

Because if I were born like any other human, I wouldn't have woken up with the body of a boy that was onwards to his growth to manhood.

That means I was either born a boy already past his decade years, or I had amnesia.

At first, I always thought myself to be the second. I likely hit my head on something and just suddenly forgot everyone I knew and loved, living a new identity completely different to who I formerly was.

Live for a century after? I eventually realized that I was actually not born from my mother's womb and that I was not human….at all.

Humans don't suddenly change the shape of their bodies at will….at least not all of us. I met a Sarkaz who could do the same thing. But my impression was that they're like liquid clay, easily shaping their bodies into anyone and anything at will with no problem.

But me? I'm not made of liquid clay. I made of pure meat, blood and bones. And these meat, blood and bones….are extremely adaptive. They are highly receptive to the current needs of my body. If I was too slow, I'd suddenly gain legs that belonged to the fastest fangbeast in Sargon. If I wanted strength, I would suddenly grow muscles under no less than 4 hours. If I wanted a longer tail, I was no longer a Forte. I would suddenly became Pythian, my appendage becoming scaled, long, and incredibly prehensile.

This only means that the people who I thought were my father and mother were normal people….who took in a monster, raised him, and loved him like a son.

I honor my mother and father even more when I realized it. The only thing that I hated about them is that they died before I could thank them for their unconditional love towards me. It was because of them that I became one of the revered Heroes of Minos and crushed the Sargon invaders singlehandedly. They believed in me, a monster who was not their blood, and so I paid it back by putting all of my soul to the victory of my Nation as a soldier.

Did I come to terms with the revelation that I was a monster?

Of course I did.

I've been a monster since my 'birth' and I acted no differently than anybody else. The people of Minos saw me as their own too. Monster or otherwise, I'm still my father and mother's son. I honor them; I love my wives and children to bits; I am always fair to my brothers and slaves; and I revere goodness above all things as much as I abhor wickedness.

Even if people judge me for the creature I am, that doesn't change the fact that I'm better than all of them. Not in strength because, obviously, anybody can be strong, but in character. Not everybody could afford to be great in character, especially in a world as harsh as Terra.

Monsters don't help orphans, raise them to be beloved members of their community and be surrounded by everybody as they die of old age. Monsters also don't take in mistreated slaves and be a better master than their previous abusive owners by giving them with the humanity they deserve, with all the respect and love that comes with it.

And yet for some reason, I can. Why are the humans failing at the simple virtue of Loving Thy Neighbor?

The thought of me being better at Human Virtues compared to actual humans feels so damn good.

A Horrible Monster of Loving Grace. That's the one thing I've earned from my endless years being kind to these weak little humans, given to me by a wandering bard that spread the word of my actions….which drew too much bad attention but nothing I couldn't handle.

And as of today, I am now onto a new pilgrimage to practice my humanity some more.

Here in the snowy lands of Ursus, I am here to save a bunch of humans who were enslaved, arrested, or just plain unlucky to be caught on the bad side of some easily-offended moron noble and got sent to the Originium quarries to mine until they die.

And the soldiers keeping anyone from escaping these gulags are some of the most sadistic, twisted assholes I've ever seen in my life.

I would know.

I have lived for a millenia and probably more prior to my amnesia. I even morphed myself as their prisoner just to taste the kind of suffering people like me had to go through just for being Infected or just being at the wrong place. I have seen so many things a mortal man couldn't have in a single lifetime and somehow, these bastards managed to surprise me with their prejudice.

What happens to them is more than just deserved.

Oh….I'm losing grip on my self-control again. The fact that they used Collapsals to empower their Royal Guards piss me off more than I could handle….

So far, I'm doing very well in my endeavors. The mines I've raided and rescued all prisoners from are now nearing the 3 digits.

As a monster capable of extreme adaptation, I can shape any part of my body into the most beneficial weapons to ever exist for the job at hand.

Example number 1: extremely good hearing.

With these things, I could already hear the slavers and their moronic shouting, the frightened whimpers of the poor prisoners feeding their sadistic palate, and the sound of picks mining the Originium. I think I just heard someone get put down.

Okay, these bastards need to die now.

Example number 2: horns that could read heat signatures in a half-kilometer radius.

With these things, I knewthey just killed a child.

I was opting for a stealthy maneuver today. Make the prisoners there think that the guards just suddenly vanished, but no. Not anymore. They're going to know a massacre by the time I'm done.

I'm feeling bloodthirsty thanks to what they just did. These bastards will not die gently today. Oh no, they're not going to. They are going to die screaming once I get to them.

As a monster that actually becomes strong with age, having lived long enough to learn, adapt, and acquire many strengths that made me on par with Feranmuts, I put limits on myself to make sure I don't end up like the monster people would immediately assume that I am upon knowing the things I could do. Practically, it keeps many people unaware of me but still, the spiritual value is not to be underestimated. It keeps me more human than everybody else. These restraints are my principles and my morals. They continually change with the times but I never forget the wisdom of my parents that make up their whole structure: to always put goodness above all and never tolerate evil.

And my most consistent principle?

Never ever kill a child.

And I'd like that for everybody in this world to apply, whether I know them or not.

And these fuckers violated it in my presence.

First Step, wait till the snowing weather became turbulent, strong, so windy that visibility for humans gets reduced to merely an adult's arm-length away.

Took almost 30 seconds.

Now for my Second Step, I kill the bastard in the watchtower. There's always a watchtower, along with the electric fence and the minefields on extreme cases.

As I clamber up one leg of the tower like a lizardbeast, making sure I didn't make any sounds on the metal out of habit even though the turbulent snow would cloud any noises I make, I hear the man report on the radio his complaint about losing visibility.

Oh, you'll complain about something else when I'm done with you, motherfucker.

Once I'm over the railing and into the small space of the box-shaped top, my tail hovering in a scorpion arc so it doesn't slide on the metal floors, I quickly made my way over to the man as he turned around to see what was making thumping noises on the floor and I grabbed his throat.

Dig my talons in and a single strong pull, a large chunk is completely missing from the front of his neck.

While he croaked and gurgled from the sudden loss of his air passage to his lungs with the surge of blood going up to his mouth, vainly covering the missing chunk with his thick gloves, I grabbed the front of his uniform, pulled him close, and I made him watch as I ate his throat in front of him.

First century Me would have been disgusted at the sight of me doing such a thing.

Third century Me would have entertained the thought.

Sixth century Me no longer cared.

Today Me considered it the purest form of desecration. Anyone can kill anybody and call it a day. Why don't I twist the knife even further to show the lack of worth I put in your wasted bullshit existence?

As I watched the horror fill in this bastard's eyes, I plunged my hand into his belly, claws and slim fingers easily parting his pathetic Ursus flesh, and pulled out his liver. I ate that too.

Normally, anybody would have died at this point. Even if the snow is numbing your skin, you would not survive the severe shock of a hot organ being pulled out of your body. This fucker should be dead by now.

But apparently, because of being a monster at 'birth', that made me capable of—what I consider the most horrifying curse I could ever inflict to anybody I kill.

Anybody—EVERYBODY hit or hurt by me will never die and never recover from any injury I give them. Reduce someone to only the eyes and the top of their heads, that person is still aware and alive. Give someone a tiny cut on their finger, it will never close and doom the person towards an inevitable and painful death by an incurable infection.

The worst form of Immortality.

It took some studying but the reason for this curse was found out eventually. It was before my first century of age too, so the damage I could have accidentally inflicted on innocent people was mitigated ahead of time thanks to my parents' help.

Simply put, I have a gift of Healing Arts…..and it's so volatile that it literally STOPS people from being DEAD.

It's enough for me to even save someone who suffered the 'upper-half head' condition myself. He may no longer remember everything prior to his body's destruction before I reconstructed it to the last particle of flesh but the point is that he lived.

The downside is that it literally heals everybody I touch, including my enemies. Moreover, it functions on the idea of halting the progress of injury and bodily degradation, which explains why death isn't possible and pain/injury becomes permanent.

Fortunately, this curse only works on a very simple condition. If I kill anyone barehanded, like bite, claw or pierce their entire body with my tail, they're not dead. If I kill anyone with a weapon, then they're actually dead. Same applies if I make something fall on their heads like a boulder or the roof of their house. Anybody else can just put the poor sods out of their misery if I didn't do it right.

It's not like I can't fix those permanent pains and injuries. I had a century to learn how and a millennium more to perfect my craft and even improve on it if it's possible. I've gone to the point that accidents are basically nonexistent. Playful punches on the shoulder don't motivate my brothers to hold a grudge against me anymore.

Once I was through with his liver, I made his upper half get a divorce from his lower half and then threw the former out the window, flying far enough to land on the patrol route and be found by the patrolling officers to cause a panic.

Third Step, kill everyone in the communications bunker and destroy the radio tower along with their equipment.

Sprinting across the frozen ground, invisible like a Winter Ghost thanks to all this turbulent snow and my white fur coloring, I quickly found the concrete shelter itself and breached through the metal door with a shoulder check. 4 Ursus guards were inside playing cards.

Trust these morons to be inside the warm indoors while everyone else is freezing outside.

I gave them no time to be shocked at my presence or the sudden sound of the door busting open. I leapt at them, destroying their wooden table and sending all 4 men to the floor before I wailed on them like a drugged-up big cat, clawing and biting and stabbing with my tail on whoever I could touch.

They can scream all they like. I'll even not touch their vocal cords. It doesn't matter. No one will ever hear their cries for help from the snow outside, even if I hauled one of them up and just started slamming his head against the wall so hard it exploded into a paste of blood and brain matter.

After I tore off a fucker's arm, I then turned my attention to their radio receivers and made short work of them with a single lash of my tail, reducing them to bent metal parts and electric sparks. Afterwards, I returned to the 4 fuckers on the floor and wailed on them some more, flinging around more flesh and eating more than a few pieces of their hearts.

After 10 seconds, my entire front completely splattered with warm blood, I leapt straight up the ceiling, through the concrete, and bent 2 of their radio tower's 4 legs that was completely frozen from the lowering temperature with my tail. I let gravity do its work and I was back to the ground before the thing did. The place will be on high alert once it fully tips over.

I better be quick.

Through my horns, I'm counting 19 guards. 2 or 7 more could be inside the mines, guarding and whipping the prisoners, sometimes for no reason. A typical number just like the other camps. Now they're gathered around outside, executing the prisoners who drew black on the lot…..they're kids.

Sprinting through the snow, I leapt through the air and tore the throat of the guard I pounced to the ground with my teeth. His partner didn't fare any better, his head pierced right through by my tail. They would have found the watchtower guard's upper half if I waited a little more but I didn't have the mood for terror tactics anymore.

Places like this always make me see red, especially when there are children around.

I speed up and leapt towards their second watchtower, placed just outside the electric fence. Instead of jumping inside, I just smash my body straight through the box, bringing down the sniper there with me. It's loud enough to draw attention away from the execution, and I get to do this.

"AAAAAAGGGHHHHHH!"

I just broke this guy's legs upon landing. That meant all the open fractures on his knees, all sticking out of the skin underneath his snow-trousers. Now this will draw everybody's attention.

Yes, that's right. Turn away from those kids and focus on the sound of your comrade suffering. Even if the snow is blinding you right now, even the sound itself would pierce through this snowstorm!

Hey, don't start heaving. Continue screaming. You're not being loud enough. Let me break that arm of yours to help you with that.

CRACK!*

"GIIIYAAAAAAAGHHAAA!"

Whoever freaks out first dies.

"WHAT THE HELL!?"

"WHO'S THERE!?"

You two then.

I have an Originium fragment in my pocket. I found it in the hands of a poor boy who was buried in a caved-in Originium mine. I don't know what he thought of when he held it. Did he intend to use it as an Arts Unit? Was it a protective charm for him? Was he hoping for some relief to receive if he gave it to somebody?

Heh. Not like it matters. He's dead now just like everybody else there. I was too late, but I made sure those bastards responsible didn't get away. They can't hide their traces from somebody like me. Rather than just kill them, I gave them a taste of karma. I trapped them in the same mine they buried their prisoners with, naked and helpless, all of their 4 limbs gone as I ate it in front of them before I left them to die.

This little fragment never served that boy any good. Now that I have it, however, I am obligated to put it to good use in his place.

I hope you're watching, little one. I will wreak your vengeance upon these fuckers.

Holding it in my hand as I pull it out of my pocket, I made the energy inside it that made it viable as a power source for technology unstable, turning it into a combustible component. As it instantly became hot, searing my palm, I quickly popped it into my mouth and swallowed it.

The taste of blood…..and an insanely hot sensation boiled in my stomach, as if somebody shoved a leaking kettle full of hot water straight down my gullet.

Fuck, I feel sick.

I feel like puking…no, that's putting it lightly.

I wanna—

"DIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"

The sooner I opened my mouth, plumes of fire blew out of it like the backdraft of a burning house. The two bastards who freaked out died very quickly, silencing their screams in an instant and the contrast of the high temperatures against the low in the air created a lot of steam.

With that fat amount of steam serving as extra obstruction to everybody's perception, I struck out in a fury I haven't felt in a while, and that meant I was roaring like a Beast as I cut down every single guard that I could see. My belly is still on fire, I am still blowing out flames out of my mouth, and I don't feel like sparing anybody today.

This anger does not belong to me. This is a tribute to you, little one. Savor it as I send them to hell.

I swing my claw across someone's midsection, his guts spill out into the cold snow and he looks on confused.

I pounce towards a guard running blindly into the steam and snow, the upper right of his head is bitten clean off with all the visible bite marks.

My tail stabbed a line towards someone's gut, then it quickly surged upwards once it found entry, and finally gaining an exit via reverse deepthroat.

My tail gets out of its former victim, it lashed sideways towards 3 soldiers with the sound of the sound barrier breaking, and they were easily bisected like a knife through paper.

Enjoy your new immortality, motherfuckers.

So many of them are standing so far apart from each other. Up the mine entrance, standing over there, standing next to me, standing at the gate, standing near the entrance of the mines—they're giving me reasons to leave them screaming in pain as I disemboweled them or tore off their arms or legs rather than kill them outright. More opportunities to spread terror without too much work. Let every voice be an indication of the number of people left, and I'll see how they can stay organized under fear.

"Don't spread out! You'll be picked off one by one! Hear my voice and gather to me!"

Sure, go ahead. Do exactly that. See if that will increase your chances of survival.

For their troubles, I'll stand still and close my mouth to keep the fire in. Just for a moment so I could see what they'll do.

Through my horns detecting the warmest living things in the area around this snowy hell, I can perfectly image the forms of every guard running to the command's instructions through the haze of steam and snow. They are not being good representatives of Ursus' Military Power at all. This feels like a retreat than a tactical reposition. I could feel fear and cowardice.

Once a fair number of them were grouped up together, I opened my mouth—

"HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGHHHHHH!"

Out came the burning hell I've been keeping in my stomach. What should have been 13 soldiers grouped up together were easily wiped out in a plume of flames, reduced to nothing but ash in this icy place. I likely melted the icy ground as well, showing the very soil for the first time in a while.

I had to clamp my hands on my mouth to close it and not lose all the inferno. It was coming out too strong. Consequently, the exposed black ground was easily smothered back into obscurity by the snow. So much steam everywhere.

I need to save a little bit more of the boy's fire. I can't waste all his wrath on just a few of these bastards. I want him to take down as many as possible, and I'm going to make his last blood the best one possible. The only fitting sendoff I have in mind for him.

Now to take care of this bastard that didn't leave the about-to-be-executed prisoners' proximity and has now resorted to taking them hostage. Of all people, he picks the smallest one.

"Who the fuck's there!? HEY! REPORT! ANYBODY OUT THERE!"

I growled gutturally, bits of fire seeping through my gritted teeth as I lashed my tail against the ground, creating a sharp snapping sound.

"EGHK!" Not a manly sound, that one. "GET AWAY! DON'T COME ANY CLOSER OR I'LL KILL THIS GIRL!"

With that pathetic crossbow, you think you can use someone else's life to freeze my movements? First of all, why would you assume that I'm here for the prisoners? Why can't you just assume that somebody's here to kill and eat people?

Because I do that everyday. Saving the prisoners just happened to go with it.

I continued growling, steadily reducing my distance in a walking pace towards the fucker, sneakily moving the tip of my tail across the snow like a slitherbeast around the back to slice his spine through his nape.

I think he could somehow feel my presence coming closer. Even if the smell of blood and ice filled the air, I never miss the smell of fear that's steadily reaching the breaking point.

"I'LL KILL HER! I SWEAR TO THE EMPEROR I'LL KILL HER!"

Invoking the name of your Tsar will only lead you closer to death, which I am now demonstrating through my tail that's literally hovering behind you. Just walk one step backwards, motherfucker, and you'll impale yourself into it.

How about a bit of motivation?

The intensity of the snowstorm lightens, giving him much more visibility than an arms-length away. As he becomes more visible to my eyes, so did I for him, and I could already imagine it.

He takes the sight of my feet first due to me taking a long step forward into view, revealing hands instead of feet that are stepping on the snow, connected to muscled legs covered in thick coats of camouflaging white fur and wearing a very thin pair of baggy pants that are not suited for cold weather.

As his gaze reaches up to my waist, he beholds a torso rippling with muscle underneath a similarly-thick coat of snow white fur splattered with the blood and flesh of his comrades, accompanied by a beefy pair of arms that might as well belong to their warbeasts connected to it, ending with a pair of hands that should rightly belong to monsters, 6 fingers and a thumb adorned by wicked talons.

Upon seeing my face—boo!

He screamed, practically blown backwards by the look of my face, straight into my poisoned tail—

Suddenly, my entire front was blasted with a ferocious wave of ice.

What the fucking hell!?

My entire body—no. My entire skeleton was literally frozen. I am completely frozen from skin to bone. If it wasn't for the boy's flames inside my mouth, I would have actually shattered apart and died. Instead, my body immediately responded to this attack by sending the heat in my belly across my every blood vessel. My body heated up in an instant, as if all the coat of fur in my body would have been set alight.

Pleasant? Absolutely. Acidly painful? Why the fuck are you asking? OF COURSE IT DOES!

Who the fuck did this? It can't be the guard. No way. If it was him, I would have known by now. Just who or what just happened? Even if it was a surprise attack, I still would have seen it coming! Just who did it!?

…Oh no…..Oh nononono!

Of all the times, why now….!?

I know what this is. This happened so many times before.

This is an Arts Eruption. Basically, an Infected person's Arts erupting under high traumatic pressure and because they are extremely compatible to Originium, the output is extremely disastrous.

It's coming from the child he was holding hostage. A white Cautus. She shattered the bastard holding her into ice pieces, having collapsed to the ground and unmoving, already feeling the extreme strain on her body at such an unstable release of her Arts.

She's still releasing her Arts, constantly exhuming out a wave of frost from her body, even though she looks so close to death.

If she keeps that up, she's going to die!

Stop that! You'll freeze! You'll even worsen your Infection!

Forcing myself through my slowed motor functions thanks to that icy eruption, I quickly crawled straight to her small and fragile form before pulling her close and practically crushing her to my chest, giving her my extreme body heat—FUCKING SHIT, HER ENTIRE BODY'S COLDER THAN HELL ITSELF!

JUST HOW COMPATIBLE ARE YOU!?

Shit, I need to stop this snowstorm!

I gritted my teeth through the frostbite and necrosis this girl is giving me just by touching her. I survived worse. I endured worse. Fuuuuuck. I wished this wasn't an Arts Eruption. Let it just be anything else—hemorrhaging, dismemberment bolt punctures or even a shot head, I can heal people from all of these! Why'd it have to be an Arts Eruption!?

I keep crushing her to my chest, even wrapping my tail around us for additional warmth, fighting back her impeding death by heating my body even more—by fuck, her temperature's dropping rapidly! She's going to die! She's going to die!

I gently shake her and tap her cheeks.

Come on. Wake up, baby. Wake up! Stay strong! Don't sleep! Do not sleep! You'll die!

Of all the fucking times, why NOW am I needing a mouth instead of a snout!? I can't speak clearly with this thing! I can't compare myself to the more-beastly humans who can do it seamlessly—they lived with one their whole lives! I gave myself one in dedication to ripping out people's throats and eating them!

"Eeeergh! EErrrrgghh! EEErrrrgh!" I growled out, incapable of articulating the things I have to say to reach her. But this is all I could do until my snout flattens against my face, so I keep vocalizing my throat, shaking her and slapping her cheek endlessly.

Come on….! Come on! Wake up, baby! Please! Don't die on me now! You can't die to your own gift! Not like this! Don't let Ursus' black hands leave its mark on your life!

Am I not giving enough heat!? Is the storm still going!? No, it's not. It has lightened as intended. No more falling snow or even a strong wind. Just a calm and quiet air. I could even see further into the sky, multiple layers of clouds practically vanishing from sight and only a few more until I see the blue sky and the sun.

"…dad…? Dad…."

Hearing the girl squeak out in the smallest voice she could muster, I could not hold down my relief and joy, throwing my head up and roaring in celebration.

Thank FUCK! She's okay! She's gonna be okay! She's going to live! She fucking will! She will never die….! Not while I'm here!

Passing the heat in my body through my tail and waving it everywhere around me, I tried to speak again, checking if I could do it now, "Aaaaa….aaaaiiiii Iiiii'm…" YES! I can articulate words now! About fucking time! "I'm here, baby. Everything's going to be okay…."

"Dad…..dad….? Dad…..?"

I place my palm on her cheek, making sure it's hot enough to make her aware of my touch through her freezing body that would not feel anything, "I'm here, baby. Right here with you. I won't go anywhere. I promise." I assured kindly and softly, blowing a breath of warm and steaming air on her face, "I won't leave. Daddy will never leave."

"Dad…..it's cold….it hurts….!"

I quickly adjusted my position, bending my knees up in front of me and close together as I sat on the ground before I wrapped my tail around me. Afterwards, I tuck her arms and legs close to her body, then gently rest her little malnourished frame on the crook, one arm pressing against her back and holding her head while the free one rests across her chest, my hand keeping its place on her cheek.

With this, she's completely surrounded by nothing but warmth. It helps that my frame is gigantic and she's quite tiny in comparison. My coat of fur is just the right element necessary to radiate the warmth she needed.

"There. Is that better?" I asked, tenderly shaking her head to coax her eyes open. I also wiped away the frozen tears that are keeping them closed with a non-heated thumb. I can't imagine the wells she had wept before I arrived. At her age….an amount she shouldn't have, probably. "Is it still too cold, baby? Do you want it a bit warmer?"

Her tiny hands lamely reached for the hand on her cheek. Her left touched my wrist, her right went for the back of it, and I was bitten by the furious Arts output of frost from her touch despite the heat of my body. I showed no reaction nor made any sound of pain. I did not raise the heat to fight back against it either. That would burn her face otherwise.

I let her do as she wished, weakly nuzzling her face to my palm and firmly gripping my hand as she kept it close, as if I would disappear the sooner she loosens her hold.

Gently rubbing her tender cheek with my thumb, I took a deep inhale and released a slow, steaming blow of warm air to her body, constant and evergoing, fluttering her excuse for tattered rags as clothes. I hope she can bear with the smell of blood for now.

As I held the constant blow of breath, hoping to last as long as half a day with this slow pace, my horns tagged the presence of the prisoners of the mine coming out and heading towards me. I sensed the others who were outside and saved from execution doing the same.

Look upon my works and learn of the grace I give to you, humans.

Ha! The last time I've said that, it was during the start of my godhood. Being worshipped and revered was such a nice feeling, especially with a culture created in dedication of me, my values and virtues treated as dogma and law by my people, but I was too human to keep up such a role. I couldn't last more than a single century being Divine. Over time, I could feel myself becoming either too controlling or too involved with my subjects….

….so involved that I ended falling in love with a normal woman and craved a simpler human life so I could enjoy it. Moreover, I felt trapped in my godhood, especially when I wanted to explore the world outside my domain. It did not feed my spirit well to stay in one place.

I wonder how are they doing now….?

Someone approached me from the side, and I turn my head to see a young boy, an Ursus cub shivering in the dying snow. His hands and feet are littered with Oripathy lesions. This one has clearly survived too long, ever so lucky to pick white from the random killing lots. I daresay he's the one who endured the most.

I aimed my warm breath over towards him and he slightly shrunk himself as he hugged his sides from the sudden contrast of temperature. I watch his rigid face melt into a relief he thought he'd never experience in a place like this, his knees weakening under the urge to simply rest, and I felt shattered just by looking.

With a gentle voice, I spoke to this boy, my empathy for his troubles lining my words, "You wear little in this white land, cub. Not even shoes. Your body is frail, all of your meager strength barely able to hold it together in this cold. And you are branded by the sickness."

Upon hearing that, he knew what I was talking about. He moved his hands from his side and brought them before his eyes, showing all of the Oripathy lesions he had accumulated over the years.

Oripathy atrophies the nearby nerves, muscles and organs. Strong movements on the Infected area will feel like wiggling a stab wound and cause excruciating pain, especially if it's untreated. When mining, it's a labor using your hands. In a mine like this, you dig or die by the guards, even if the pick you use is broken. You still got hands so use them.

I hear a rising hiccup. I can hear his eyes welling in tears. I could hear his throat locking up. The mere memory of the things he endured now too much to handle now that he had a moment to actually see it. Without any guards that will punish him for being idle, he can finally let it go.

"Please…" No one else could have heard that cracked and breathless word. Grief and pain, however, do not need words to be conveyed. The boy has fallen on his knees, his head deeply bowed that it touched the ground and his hands full of lesions were reaching towards me, "…..s-save us….."

I steeled my face from showing emotion. My godhood started from answering that one plea and I couldn't stop answering the thousands that came after. I said 'never again', but I am still my mother and father's child. I will never abandon him nor his fellows. They deserve better, just like the rest I have liberated, and I shall give it to them.

"Then come to me." I paused to send a blow of warm breeze towards him, unfurling my tail from my body and splaying it across behind me, readying for the leap, "Lay by my side, and I will give you rest. You will never set a single toe into these caverns ever again."

He didn't get up to his feet as he looked forward, his frozen tears beginning to melt and become wet again. He crawled towards me, sliding his hands and knees on the snow, clawing himself closer as quickly as he could towards the wave of heat I'm exhuming out of my body.

Once he's a few inches by my side, he quickly curled into a small ball, hugging his legs and burying his face into his knees, lying on his left and aiming his front towards the warmth, practically unmoving. He was wise to not throw himself towards me and weep out his grief. He would have scalded himself. But once I relocate him and his fellows, I'll personally console him, the girl in my arms, and every single one of his fellows. They've been strong long enough.

Once the other prisoners inside the mines and the ones outside saw their brother curled close to me and their sister resting in my arms, they quickly took that as a sign that I meant no harm and approached me as well. They were still cautious, careful in their steps as if to gauge my reaction to their approach.

I simply looked away from them and turned my attention to the poor baby in my arms. In this manner, they can see that I do not mind at all. They're all welcome to the warmth.

I let my horns tag the movements of the other children while my eyes are cast solely on this white bunny. Her eyes have finally parted, revealing just the slightest bit of silver in the gaps that are trying to get a clear view of me. Her vision is blurred, most likely. One of her hands had let go of my wrist and rested on her chest, fingers reaching up but unable to thanks to the severe strain her body suffered from that eruption.

She's mentally recovered enough to feel curious about me, but not enough to comprehend reality yet. She's delirious. She's completely forgetting where she is or what had happened earlier. I can tell. I am forcing her to stay awake, after all.

I responded to her silent inquiry by prodding her cheek with a finger before pinching it, tugging or twisting it to divert her attention elsewhere. "I'm here, baby. I'm sure you have questions, but for now, daddy will take you home first, along with your brothers and sisters."

The children behind me have followed the boy's example, stepping into the warming space and either curling into a ball close to my body's proximity or holding each other very tightly.

My serpent tail moved once they were settled, extending its length to impossible limits and coiling itself to every single child that's there. Over a boy's shoulder, slipping under a girl's arm, around the waists of 2 brothers together—I made sure I gave each child something warm to hold and to tell them that I will take care of them from now on.

They responded accordingly once they felt the warmth of the scales, each one gripping the length of my tail with desperate strength towards either their chests or faces. Some even resorted to clutching it with all four limbs as well, absorbing as much warmth as they could take from it. The majority of these children are Ursus, and their racial strength threatened to mangle my appendage completely.

But the sensation of these children's melted tears of ice staining my tail made me forget the excruciating sensation entirely. Having lived for too long, I have become a bit too sensitive to other people's emotions. Whether this comes with age or it's because I'm a monster specifically, I don't know. I could feel their grief, pain and relief wash over me as if they were my own.

I wish I could cry with them as well just like I did before, having rescued others who have suffered even worse conditions than they have.

But now, this batch is just one among the many I've saved. They all cried as I liberated them and gave them comfort.

I have done this long enough. Not enough for my heart to be disconnected to their suffering long ago, it simply got easier for me to focus on bringing them back to the haven before I can properly comfort them.

I should be celebrating and proud for what I'm doing for these poor souls….but this will not stop Ursus from sending more, and there are still more mines for me to find. I know there are more.

I don't know how many mining gulags there are in this tundra, the military is steadily becoming more focused of my presence here, but I'm not stopping. I cannot. This is just the start for now.

Something else needs to be done than just simply liberating. I need to do more than this. I need a better plan to stop all this extreme Infected paranoia bullshit in Ursus.

For now, I should attend to these little ones.

The haven is far away this time, and I don't think I have the heart for now to make the children endure 5 hours' worth of walking just to get there. I could let them rest for a while beforehand but I'd rather have that be in a soft bed than this fucking place—they've had enough!

Fortunately, I have learned many tricks over the millennia to make short work of long-distance travel, even with company.

Needs a bit of godhood to accomplish it, however.

Thanks to these children squeezing my tail so covetously, they are now marked by the slime my tail has been spewing off since they've been holding it. Now they are tethered to me and, by extension, the haven itself.

To the place of rest, you go.

With a whipping lash of my tail against the air, the children holding it suddenly disappeared.

I hope you readied a few beds, Ella. There was nobody but children here. No adults. None. This is the first incident I've seen in the Tundra. I think they deserve a bit of special attention compared to the ones before. I'm sure the others will understand.

Now it's just you and me, little one.

I push myself up to my feet with my tail against the ground, blowing some more warm air to the child in my arms, then I walk towards the haven itself, trusting that I'll reach it before an hour.

I hope I didn't shove it by 12 hours away.

I would send this white bunny there together with her siblings but since she's suffering from an Arts Eruption, she'll be my case for a while. Once I'm inside the haven, my duty to care for the kids begin. But for now, this little girl needs some of my undivided attention.

Her Arts are still going wild. Her skin is still cold enough to frostbite even though she's stabilized herself minutes ago. My goodness, she is extremely compatible to her Originium Arts. In a better environment like Leithania, she'd be a prodigy, sponsored by the people who'd notice her talent and help her improve to be the best Caster she could be. Unfortunately, she's born on Ursus soil. Prodigious talent doesn't mean shit when you're Infected.

I cannot control her compatibility to restrain the output. That's something only she'll have to handle on her own. I'll guide her through the process once she gets herself back together but for now, I can at least dampen the output. Halt her Oripathy progression. It can stop her temperature from dropping below zero.

If she gets any colder, she'll no longer be able to connect with anyone if she constantly freezes everything and everyone around her.

Her Oripathy's source…..on her belly. No lesions yet.

Damn it.

Bad place for it to be found. Your body's heavily reliant on your core muscles, now she'll have a harder time moving compared to everyone else. Good thing her condition's not too advanced and she's still young. She can adapt. Her body will learn to accommodate the changes as she develops.

"….."

I looked down upon hearing her breath flow out strongly as I continue walking. The girl's eyes are now half-open, showing me a clearer view of the silver orbs she had. She's doing okay now, and it seems she wants to say something.

"What is it, baby?"

I carefully orient her body with my tail since she's still gripping my free hand's wrist until she's resting her bottom on my palm, legs dangling freely, her back on my wrist and forearm, and her head resting on my elbow. I keep her form diagonal.

Gripping my thumb and a few of my fingers, severely frostbitten and given partial necrosis, she asked again, "…who….?" A bit of her voice came out as she asked but nothing beyond. The rest is just an exhale.

"My name is Jacob, little one." I bowed to her in greetings, "What's your name?"

I watched her mouth and I could read the words, even as she forced out her voice. "Yel…na."

"Yelena." She gave a tiny nod in affirmation. "Yelena. Yelena. Yelena. It's so nice to say. Lovely to meet you, little Yelena." I smiled, shaking the hand she held up and down. I bounced her a little so she feels a little more uncomfortable. She needs to stay awake a little longer. I hope she can take it. "Worry not about the others. I've already sent them to a safe haven. Kindly not ask me where it is because its location is a secret. We can't have the enemy finding out where it is, can we?"

"Where…ng….?"

"We…." I paused, looking to the side and facing the white fields of snow to see one of the Adams standing there, the lanky mutt's perfect white coat completely hiding it from sight as he sent me signals through his black tail, notifying me of an…..

….oh.

So he managed to track me down after all even though I made it very clear the third time that I want absolutely nothing to do with him?

Sigh. I suppose I was wasting my time when I expected him of all people to give up on trying to have an audience with me. I was angry at the time, I'm still angry today. The moron's audacity astounds me every time I think about it.

Ahem. Moving back to the kid, "….are going to the haven too." I felt her confusion a few seconds after. I quickly addressed it before she could say anything, "I can sense you wondering why you are not joined with the others who are already there and the answer is simple."

Her eyes drift towards the hand she's holding as I use an index finger and a thumb to hold up her hand a little higher. Her little frost-covered digits and a barely-visible wave of cold mist flowing out of them.

"You have a gift, baby." I place her hand back to her chest and I held up my own, palm up, and I conjure a big floating snowflake right above it. Though I lost the boy's fires now as I swiped some of her Arts for myself, my body has already adapted to her condition to exhume as much heat as possible throughout my body. "Your Originium Arts are far stronger than even those among Ursus' military ranks. You're going to be a powerful Caster when you grow up."

I crush the snowflake inside my hand and then sprinkle the snow-like fragments all over her face, which she shielded her eyes from and looked away. At the same time, I use my monstrous abilities of healing to subtly removed the strain on her body as I've finally suppressed the progression of her Oripathy while I was talking.

It won't stop her Infection from acting up again but I will clog it once she's properly rested.

"But you are very compatible with your Arts, baby. Your body is very cold." I then move her to my tail, which had coiled itself into a chair that matches her tiny size. It even comes with footrests so she can warm her frozen feet through the heat it's giving off.

And she made no sound of pain as many parts of her body swayed from the movement while I transferred her, her steeling expression melting into surprise as she didn't feel the slightest bit of agony from the tiniest movements. She experimented with some small head movements, up and downs or both sides, then twisting it around. Then she moved to her limbs, fingers, elbows and knees bending repeatedly to confirm her condition.

I simply wait as I continue walking, keeping the heat of my tail ongoing until she's done.

Hmm….

My horn is tagging more than 9 Adams and Eves circling me in a 100-meter radius. It seems they're having ideas of a fight about to come. As if.

After confirming everything herself, Yelena pulled her knees close, her feet resting on her seat as she hugged her legs, resting her chin atop them as she looked at me. "Thank you." She finally said, her voice clear and no longer struggling.

"It's okay, baby." My tail coiled up into a basket with her inside since she's deciding to curl up instead of sit down, surrounding her entire body with heat. I place my hand on the 'basket' rim in front of her, gripping the edge, "I'm just glad I got to you in time….and I wish I had come sooner."

Her eyes began to glisten upon hearing that. Seeing my fingers in close proximity, she automatically held it with both her little hands, frostbiting them again. She either ignored or didn't realized what's she's doing to me as she rested her eyes on them.

Then her shoulders began to twitch, my ears couldn't miss the sound of her sobs and her quivering breath. She's finally crying. Good. And just in time as her initial treatment is over. She can safely sleep away now once she runs out of tears.

As she cried, I gently hover her close to my chest and hugged her like a babe in a bundle, patting her back, stroking her head and even daring to kiss her hair. My lips froze immediately and fell apart, and it had such an acidic pain. Much worse when the lips have extremely sensitive nerves. But I didn't care. It's hardly any worse than what her eruption did to my body.

Live long enough, you'll no longer regard pain as a discomfort anymore. It gets reduced to a simple sensation among the millions that I could feel through my sense of touch.

But for some reason, I cannot stop feeling empathy, especially for the little ones. I've become jaded to a lot of things in my old age but never for other people's suffering.

Whether it's due to my monstrous nature or having a twisted mind, I'm glad I can't.

I've stopped calling myself a human long ago. It's been so long ago that I cannot even mentally identify as one anymore. I've completely internalized myself as a monster, not to affirm myself but to be aware that I am never going to be like everyone else.

People are born, live life, then die of old age. I can never die, ever, even if I wanted to. Everyone I know or didn't know will pass on to memory while I remain, living a life they left behind and no longer have. No matter what comes and no matter the person, I'll be the only one left in the end.

People and society have to grow, learn, and suffer to be strong, to conquer their demons and achieve their goals. My body could morph into anything to make myself able to do what I could not literally 5 minutes ago. I could even morph my body into an entire wilderness, full of green and wild life, alive and aware. I am privileged to be better than anything or anyone, no matter what or who it is.

But my humanity as a monster is unquestionable. I can still love the humans I'm formerly one of. I can still love my spouses and children as if they were the first ones of my life. I could even define honor and principle in a hundred ways and still be able to apply every single one into practice. I know what's right from wrong and even fit the common standard of a 'good' person without changing my character for the last half a millennium.

I am still the son of my father and mother.

---

After about a half hour of walking, I finally see what the Adam was warning about earlier. The fact that I was warned earlier means that this man's been standing here the whole time, waiting for me.

A pair of mangled branches that arch in unclear directions, completely asymmetrical to the other except in length.

A haunting skull-like helmet that eerily matches forest prongbeasts, its eye sockets glowing a clear red despite my distance from him.

A monstrously tall form, towering every person I've ever met in my life besides the Nachzerer King, fitted by an Ursus power armor that undoubtedly had started seeing its better days.

A great heavy shield, as wide his frame and nearly as tall as himself, tagged with the insignia of Ursus in its center.

And his giant halberd, held in his clawed hand and resting the bottom on the snowing soil, as still as his entire body except for the red sash looped around his right bicep and swaying in the wind.

Wendigo Sarkaz, Buldrokkas'tee.

PATRIOT…..!

Every single part of my body wants to let go. To let go and go wild on this man, every wrath and power I've been saving up since I found him among Ursus' ranks thrown out and into his face as it richly deserves.

I know this man's might, and I know where he stands in the power scale of this world. He was still growing when I squared my claw and tail against his halberd and shield in Theresa's court. He undoubtedly reached his peak during his service to Ursus as the indomitable 'Patriot', the Unstoppable March. All of Terra hailed his name that I could not even be deaf against it, constantly reminding me that he will be my enemy someday.

It's without a doubt that he's a Hero of his generation.

…..I don't see that hero anywhere.

This man….standing alone, not even ready for a fight. His shield isn't covering his front. His halberd isn't at the ready. Not even his squadron of Walls made of giant men with heavy shields are anywhere to be found. I can't even find them through my horns. Not even the smell of traps are found.

This man is actually alone.

All these details together…

.…so it actually came to pass, huh?

Grrovae'zzeal is actually dead?

And he wants to have an audience with me?

To what? To tell me that it has passed as I had warned him? To question how I knew? To beg for my powers to bring his son back? To see his life handed over to me in exchange for his son to live again?

How humble are you now compared to before, Buldrokkas'tee? How low have you fell from the pedestal Ursus has built up for you? How could you even look at yourself, standing there as if you are permitted to talk to me?

The snowing weather steadily became turbulent the closer I got to the Wendigo, the winds blowing so furiously it threatened to carry the smallest child away, and the temperatures of the tundra dropped rapidly, freezing even the tips of my horns that aren't radiating any warmth and obscuring every heat signature in my radar under this haze of white.

Even so, Yelena is completely untouched in her tail cocoon, smothered by warmth and restfully sleeping without any trouble as I held her close to my chest.

Clicking and snapping sounds erupted around me, indications of almost every Adam and Eve I've planted in Ursus having congregated to my location, preparing for a fight. I could hear most of the claws on their fingers growing rapidly, tapping against each other as they walked on all fours in the same pace as me. Some of their tails are even hitting each other as they swung it around in anticipation, making a sharp crack each time.

I merely walked forward. I don't expect a fight, and even if I did start one with Buldrokkas'tee, he would not move and take every blow without complaint. It would solve nothing, the same way his service to Ursus didn't.

I maintain the same leisurely pace that I started since leaving the mines, never letting my disgust and anger slow me down or push me forward. I will not let it go in the presence of a child that deserves my attention more than some lying hypocrite that does not even understand the idea of me warning him against the people he's serving.

And after a few minutes, I'm finally in the presence in the Patriot of Ursus, 3 strides away from him. I met him at eye-level, expanding my height and mass once the blizzard set in, morphing under the cover of snow. I grew a second pair of horns atop my head behind my first ones, ending in 2 points like the letter Y and it tagged the size of his body and his heartbeat. And the tail that covered Yelena has enlarged as well, now completely hiding her from sight with only 3 coils around her instead of only up to her shoulders.

Every one of my slaves surrounded us in a wide circle, tails ending in spikes and pointing inwards like spears, completely hidden from sight thanks to the blizzard still blowing furiously and their snow-white coats, but the Wendigo already knows they're there. And he showed no caution whatsoever.

Just the look of resignation and defeat. Perhaps the very first time I ever saw him like this.

Underneath that skull helmet, I've seen him think. I've seen calm. Angered. Baffled. I've even seen him smile as he told me he's going to have a son.

I wonder what kind of face did you wear when you found your boy's name on the list in that revolt.

He nodded his skull to me in drone-like greetings. I didn't return the courtesy. I only want to hear his piece and be done with it.

His voice reverberated inside his helm, deep and rumbling, and flowing with grief, "Your revelations….it has come to pass."

…I have no words to spare to you, Buldrokkas'tee.

I didn't want to believe it. I hoped that you would say that you abandoned the Empire and took your son with you. That I had mistaken your body language for something else. I hoped that he was still alive and that you had opened your fucking eyes before it was too late…

….why is it that you've been so fucking disappointing ever since you pledged your service to Tsar Vladimir?

May he rot forever in his grave, and so will you.

"I have been wrong…..and that you were right. All along you were right."

I don't want to hear these things. Just what the fuck do you want?

"Ursus did not reward me. The wars I've fought have led me to nothing. The battles I waged have took more from me than I had. And now, I am left with nothing but disappointment. Exactly as what your prophecy told. So, I disavowed the Empire and left it behind. Never again are they my masters anymore."

….

….….….

…..….….….….….

I waited for him to say more. Even lasting a whole 5 minutes that the blizzard had to lighten its fury on the both of us.

He didn't. He just stayed silent, instead waiting for me.

I walked up to his face, pressing Yelena against my chest just lightly so the coil she's in doesn't even dare touch the slightest bit of metal or cloth in this moron's being, and I spat at him, throwing every bit of my contempt into every word, "You are a fucking disappointment….!"

Then I smashed my shoulder against his as I walked past him, carefully hovering Yelena away from my chest on the point of impact. I don't know if I actually pushed him or he just moved away in compliance but I never looked back as I head towards the haven. I'm going to leave it at that and just walk away. I'm already done with him.

But I just could not hold down the temptation.

This was a long time coming ever since he showed himself out of Theresa's court and pledged himself to Ursus. And now he's telling me that he abandoned it as well!?

My voice had no semblance of humanity as I bellowed out to the sky.

"Some Patriot you are!"

The cackling and chortling from the slaves as they scattered away pierced through the howling blizzard, ever going until the Wendigo disappeared from my horns' awareness.

---

Buldrokkas'tee's steps trudged through the howling and murderous blizzard of the evening like a mobile mountain, enduring and unstoppable. While his cloak bellowed furiously, the raging night weather desperately trying to tear it off his magnificent frame, everything else of him remained undisturbed. One step at a time, reserved and unhurried, hip-deep for his species' natural height in accumulated snow, heading to a destination dictated by the Chimera's minions.

He held his great shield in front of him to plow aside the growing snow, his red eyes seeking for anything of interest throughout the haze of white. Knowing the Chimera's whims, even a lone rock is an indication of his presence in such a lifeless landscape.

The fact that the path is ridiculously difficult and lethal to cross in every way possible for every human unless one is as enduring and tough as a Wendigo means that he's going the right way. For the last year since meeting each other in that path, the Chimera made his hatred of Buldrokkas'tee known at any given opportunity. Whether that be harassing him or inconveniencing his men during their aimless journeys in the Tundra. This was one of them, even if the man had become lenient enough in time to allow a second audience between them.

As he continued down the path for a whole 2 hours, the snow now rising up to his chest and the temperatures plummeting to the point that the freeze is reaching inside his power armor, a call roused out in the air, piercing through the howls of the blizzard and straight towards his ears.

[Hail, Mighty Wendigo of the Sarkaz Court!]

The voice echoed unnaturally, as if it was shouted in the interior of a Cathedral, completely dissonant to what happens to sound in a furious blizzard.

It struck a sensation of déjà vu to Buldrokkas'tee. Only one person he could recall had shouted with such charisma towards somebody he was about to combat, not even considering the possibility of dying and instead seeing the wonderful opportunity of fighting someone as mighty or even mightier than himself.

[Hail, Fierce and Mighty Warrior of Ursus!]

He shouted titles and accolades of his opponents as if they were bouquets, official or otherwise, never flattering nor exaggerating, regaling them like glorious feats that he admired and wished to emulate or surpass one day.

When the Chimera first entered Kazdel and visited every prominent Sarkaz figures in their individual tribes, he had words worth volumes to say for every court member of Theresa's Court he challenged just to be qualified to have an audience with Her Majesty. He had the most for Buldrokkas'tee alone once he visited the Wendigo tribes, having been deemed as the worthier foe to fight in his 4 pairs of eyes.

[Hail, the Patriot of Vladimir's Ideals!]

Instead of flowing admiration and respect, however, Buldrokkas'tee felt only derision and spite. These accolades and titles are as regaling as the Chimera is known to be, but it had the opposite effect on him. These achievements were not something to be proud of anymore.

[Hail, the Proud Father of Grova'zzeal!]

Buldrokkas'tee pursed his lips under the cloth of his skull helm. The Chimera is targeting every sore spot the Wendigo had grown over his whole life.

For a proud father, he could not even protect a son. For a Patriot, he was following the wrong ideal. For a warrior of Ursus, he lied to himself. For a faithful servant of Theresa's court, he walked out of it and ended up regretting the choice.

[Hail, the Unstoppable March!]

Buldrokkas'tee hated killing more than anything. But he thought that it was a mere necessity. A suffering that he can afford to endure if it meant peace in the end, no matter how long it will come. That's what he keeps telling himself every time, and he stood firm when the Chimera tried to persuade him otherwise.

He marched too far. He failed to stop sooner.

[Hail, the Diligent Savior!]

But who did he save? Who did he save beyond the men under his command? Who did he save besides the interests of warmongering nobles? Where was he when his son needed him? Why was he there on the Tundra under orders to attack the rampageous Chimera on the day the revolt began?

[Hail, Receiver of my Grace!]

The Chimera had ever been kind. He had nothing but criticism and disagreement for Buldrokkas'tee's choice but he has always been kind to the Wendigo's family. The multi-headed beast respected his wife and son, gave gifts and offerings in times of their need. He never shattered the essence of a family and held it sacred as if he was part of it.

But who did the Patriot of Ursus put first? Whose interests came first?

[Hail, MY FRIEND!]

Suddenly, the blizzard fell silent and he was no longer slogging through snow that piled up to his neck.

The sky was visible, free of all snow clouds and presenting a beautiful canvass of every star that came to be since the dawn of time. The sight spanned as far as the horizon itself, contradicting what the blizzard implied from above, especially in a snowy country like Ursus.

The ground before him was a field of grass, only visible thanks to the shining rays of the crescent moon, spanning onwards till it reached the tree line. Each blade waved and rippled like an ocean surface thanks to the cool wind that blew.

And it was warmer in comparison to Ursus climate.

Buldrokkas'tee wasn't shocked or surprised. This is merely the effect of what happens when the Chimera stays in one place for too long and coats his flesh in ownership of it. Fighting in it is a lethal to anyone that isn't a Wendigo.

The fact that no boulders fell from the sky or the ground didn't open up to swallow him meant that there is no fight to expect here. The Chimera is open to conversation just like last year.

So Buldrokkas'tee kept on walking, now holding his shield by his side instead of in front, letting his guard down completely.

Walking for a whole minute, a building suddenly materialized out of thin air in front of him and Buldrokkas'tee locked his throat upon seeing it.

A tall one-story building, in the most literal way for the adjective to apply. It looked like a house where only people with a stature like Buldrokkas'tee could live in, with the typically large door to accommodate his height and horns. It might as well be a mansion for its appearance alone, with giant windows to imply all the arrogance that comes with it.

But he saw the nick on the left corner of the doorway where young Grrovae'zzeal clipped his horns while running out the door. The unfixed crack on the glass on the far right window, a rock having flew from Buldrokkas'tee's foot as he stepped on it and accidently hit Helen on the arm. The wear on the wall's paint as it endured the wind of his son swinging his Da's weapon. The particular smudge on the doorstep curb where the young man sat, chronicling his learnings of the Wendigo race under a rare sunny day in Ursus…..

This was his home. The same home that the Chimera gave to Buldrokkas'tee in celebration of his proposal to Helen being accepted. It would suddenly appear on a plot of land that was awarded to him for his service to Ursus so he can finally start a family. It would have been torn down if he wasn't there to stop the construction workers that saw it as a squatting noble's dominion.

The Wendigo made use of this selfless gift as he rightfully should, treasuring the accommodations that were clearly specific to his species and the wife's preferences, leaving room for improvement should the homeowner find the need to. So many memories were made here, which were everything he ever had….all that he had.

The only question is whether the Chimera pulled the house out of that land as a refund of his goodwill and brought it here as a fitting location for the meeting or he simply conjured it the same way he did before, ever so eager to please a friend or spite an enemy. It's not hard to tell which intention came first.

The light in Buldrokkas'tee's red eyes waned as he walked forward to his former home, his steps now uncharacteristically small and hesitant, unfitting of his reputation. Taking the small stairs up and past the door, he beheld the hallways that led to 4 doors. 2 on the left, 1 on the right and 1 more straight down the corridor.

The design put was to be greeted by the family whenever one comes home. A brightly-lit kitchen or a warmly glowing fireplace was the closest to the door. Helen would be in the kitchen, the smell of her cooking greeting the nose every time he comes home. Grrovae'zzeal would sit by the warm fire, pencil in hand with the notebook in the other and seated back in his favorite sofa like a gentleman that would look quite comical for a Wendigo that's commonly seen as warmongering savages.

Welcome home, my love.

Hello, father. Can I ask you something?

Buldrokkas'tee took a shuddering breath, invisible under his armor and helm, eyeing the room where the fireplace should be. It was the only room that had any light or presence. Every other door led to a black void. Lifeless and empty, with no visible evidence of physical reality.

He placed his weapon and shield close to the door, their placement as careful and soundless as if he's no longer the master of this home. Afterwards, he unlatched his helm, finding no need to hide it anymore. For all that he knows, he's likely going to be executed here, his presence inside the Chimera's domain already spelling his potential defeat even if he decides to fight back and die for his troubles.

Placing the helm down in ceremony between his halberd and shield, he rose up and entered the lit room.

The bookshelf containing the lore and stories of Ursus and its heroes, the giant sofa that he frequented while his son sits down next to him, the small table with the bucket of vodka on ice and a pair of glasses that are as large as his hands to match on top, the fireplace—it was everything he remembered it to be.

…..On the left half of the room, that is.

Everything on the right side of the room did not have his son's chair, the liquor cabinet, the other half of the fireplace and the wall with a window to show the falling snow. It was instead the grey surface of a craggy cliff face that spanned as high as the nonexistent roof, breaching the skies and spreading on both sides towards the horizons, as if a piece of the Chimera's twisted reality was pasted over what should rightfully be there.

And in the place of his son's chair is the entrance to this cliff. The mouth of a cave, large enough to fit the largest Ursus Mangler to slumber inside for hibernation. Sitting on a log before a lit campfire near the cavern opening was the Chimera himself, Jacob, immobile and clasping his hands together atop his raised knees.

As small as a tall human, the upper half of the man's face was covered by the long fringes of his white mane, showing only pursed lips and tightened cheeks. His dual pair of horns haven't changed since he's last seen them from a year ago, Draco and Caprinae protrusions forming a small crown together, disproportionate to the actual scale of his strength. All the white fur he had to fight against the cold had disappeared, making way for pale flesh rippling with muscles to coat his entire bare body, only made modest by the pair of pants that seemed to have not endured any damage since then. Strangely, his feet became digitigrades and ended into cloven hooves instead of hands, which was odd as it served no practical purpose in the snow.

With the darkness of the cave's interior behind him and a shining source of light in front, Jacob's three other heads were partially visible, indicated by 3 mysterious specks of light floating in pairs on either side of his head and a barely-visible outline of their forms containing them, one flicking its horns irritably while the other reared its thorny head back arrogantly as it stared him down. The last pair of specks gyrated in the air behind him, hypnotic and alluring, eyeing him with the spite he expected to find on the man himself, not his tail.

Buldrokkas'tee looked back at the left side of the room, there was the fireplace and his chair. In his peripheral vision, the entire room was whole with no Chimera in sight. Returning to the right side, there was the cliff face and the lit campfire. In his peripheral vision, the interior of the fireplace was replaced by the very outdoors he just entered from. Both realities seamlessly blending together like a collage, only possible thanks to Jacob staying in one spot for too long.

Having witnessed this oddity many times before inside this room, the only difference that's easily spotted is the sour and empty mood. There was no young boy to entertain anymore. There's no joy to be found anywhere. It's all gone.

Buldrokkas'tee made it this way. There's no way to deny that.

He had been warned.

The Wendigo sighed, the weight of his regrets now beginning to come down on his shoulders. So he sat down on his chair, the hardened wood creaking familiarly as he slumped his back against it and rested his head atop the backrest.

Jacob made no movements, remaining seated and clasping his hands before the campfire. His other heads, however, ceased shaking, craning and swaying to get comfortable as the Wendigo did, the Drake and the Ram situating on both sides of his head while the Viper hovered above his horns.

And then….nothing.

Buldrokkas'tee steadily began to feel confused and lost as time went as long as half an hour. He expected a harsh tongue-lashing, accompanied by his other heads screaming out different iterations of the same sentiment of disappointment and disgust, driving home the fact that the Wendigo failed in every way it as foretold and further reduce his worth to even less than dust.

Or rather, he expected to be brutally attacked, beaten down like the stubborn fool he was that refused to listen to advice or warnings that would have saved his son. It would be well-deserved, every lash and strike having every right to be agonizing, even to a Wendigo. Knowing Jacob's curses, the pain would be permanent and it will never fade. It would be a great surprise if even Bukdrokkas'tee could still stand up from it.

But Jacob did nothing.

Low and quiet, Buldrokkas'tee dared to ask, "Why are you not punishing me?"

Jacob sneered, ducking his head low. His other heads followed the same motion, the Viper rearing back indignantly. "Are you expecting me to?" The Chimera asked rhetorically, his mouth moving but his voice seeming to come from the walls instead.

"Knowing your great disappointment in me, I am surprised of your restraint."

A deep growl and a sharp hiss resonated together as Jacob's clasped fingers curled around each other distastefully, "I had years of opportunities to mete out my judgment on you ever since I feared the worst when I heard of the Patriot being ordered to pursue me."

Basically: 'Because I don't see the point anymore.' Buldrokkas'tee can infer that much.

The Wendigo gripped at the armrests of his chair, "Before I've heard of what happened behind my back, I had intended to falsify your death to conceal your presence and activities in the Tundra so you may continue your work."

"And now I'm supposed to believe that for all your talk of disagreeing with what I've been doing, that was just you being concerned for me getting the attention of the Ursus high command designating me as a legitimate threat?"

Buldrokkas'tee was not surprised that the Chimera had inferred his thoughts at the time so accurately even though there was no way to express it. Being so long-lived and exposed to human nature every single day, Jacob is fully capable of knowing what passes through a man's head the sooner they so much as concerned him or otherwise.

"Yes…." The Wendigo admitted, looking back at the time when he heard the orders. "….and they sent me to handle you. If they had not chosen me, then I would have pushed to be chosen. I feared what would befall you or the people you saved if the Elite Guard came for you instead."

There was a sound of grinding earth and stone, as if a pair of mountains were being crushed together inside a gigantic hand. Jacob's words came through gritted teeth, the furious hissing and growling of his other heads mixing in every syllable, "And what did you end up doing instead?"

The question itself struck harshly than a single whipping lash of Jacob's serpent tail that could fell an entire Ursus assault squadron.

Buldrokkas'tee bowed, reeling from the phantom pain itself, tears of regret and sorrow freely flowing from his eyes.

His words were but a breath, so low and silent. He had the luxury of not needing to speak louder for the Chimera could hear everything and more, especially his excruciating regret. "…I instead fulfilled your prophecy. You've warned that once Ursus commanded me to pursue you, it will be the very last time they will. You renounced our friendship and brotherhood, shouting that I would ever regret it by the time I let them."

The Wendigo shamefully fell into the trapping misinterpretation of the prophecy referring to a permanent end to their still-mendable bond, leading to a catastrophic fight between the two, where the victor would be convinced to abandon Ursus and take Grrovae'zzeal away from it…..

But Buldrokkas'tee had been a fool. He had eyes but was blind. He had ears but heard no one. He had a heart but he gave it to the wrong hands.

"And the warning you gave to me before that, before our bitter parting...is that the more I submit to Ursus, the more they'll take from me than they gave…"

"And now your son is gone. The very boy I baptized and christened with my own hands." Finally, Jacob moved his hands, and he reached up to knead his eyes, an effort to make dried tears flow again so he can display his grief, "Because of you so far away from the city, you gave the Sixth Army their opportunity to push for a full-frontal assault against the Fifth Army. And Grrovae'zzeal took the chaos as the opportunity to begin his uprising…..and you were not there for him."

Buldrokkas'tee wept on, feeling so little and pathetic like the day he heard of the circumstances that befell his son, how he was executed. "….I wasn't there to protect him….I was blind….and I left him alone….."

The Wendigo reached up to his eyes, sobbing into his gloved hands, baring his vulnerabilities to the world for the very first time. The ShieldGuards under him could only see vestiges of this despair, suppressed yet poorly-hidden, but never its full form, and now, only the Chimera has the privilege to see it all in raw detail.

Had the two still been brothers, Jacob would have been very quick to console and embrace him. There would be no judgment nor questions, just the immediate initiative to attend a friend that needed comfort. For all his ageless years and versatile might, Buldrokkas'tee only knew the Chimera for his charity than his lust for conquest.

But Jacob remained seated and holding his face, attending to his own grief when normally, he wouldn't do that around others and instead see to theirs instead. The Wendigo will not consider it a break of principles. It won't apply for someone like Buldrokkas'tee. He lost his right to be the Chimera's friend long ago and deserved worse than this.

So the men simply wept in silence, wallowing in the same despair but individually enduring the ugly weight of the sour atmosphere brought by the other. Jacob existed as the final judgment of the Wendigo's failures, a living reminder of every sign and warning he failed to acknowledge ever since the three-headed Beast decided enough is enough and discarded his place in the Sarkaz's life. Buldrokkas'tee already understood that his own existence is a severe slight in the Chimera's eyes, a pathetic man who couldn't even take heed to the advice of a friend who thought only of what could have ensured the survival of Grrovae'zzeal. He would not hesitate to surrender his own life if it meant his boy would live.

How did he ended up putting the word of his military superiors first before the urges of his friend?

He dwelled on that question. But after what could only be hours of immobile, quiet and uninterrupted thinking, there was no answer. Or rather, there wasn't an answer he could pick and not have it considered a blatant disrespect to everything Jacob had done to stop what had happened.

And because of that, Buldrokkas'tee knew that he was beyond redemption. There's no forgiving him. No one will.

"Jacob….." The Wendigo turned to the Chimera and saw all four heads turn to face him, the human one brushing aside his long fringes to reveal the dour look that had been held the whole time underneath. "May I ask?"

Jacob's human eyes subtly narrowed, a knowing look briefly flashing in his orbs of mismatched colors. Whatever Buldrokkas'tee would have asked, the Chimera already knows. A testament to centuries of exposure to human nature and decades being his friend. He would not answer the request of permission, instead he'll make it quick, "You're asking for shelter, aren't you? Not for you, but for someone else...The ShieldGuards. You wish to provide them rest."

Correct as always. Buldrokkas'tee would have asked about the sanctuary the Chimera had nurtured and grew in the Tundra where the Infected and unfortunate he rescued from Ursus' cruelty could safely live and survive, protected from the corruption and torment that's prevalent in the country.

He nodded once.

The knowing look flared in the Beast's eyes again, the other pairs carrying the same light as he stood up from the log and glared at the Wendigo across him, fists clenched tightly by his sides while his other heads began roaring, bleating and hissing a silent cacophony, flailing endlessly under a mania of many emotions.

"State the terms."

It's clear that Jacob already knew the details of this transaction as well. But since he inquired for them anyway, the Wendigo is obligated to recite them.

Buldrokkas'tee rose up from his seat as well and turned his body to face the Chimera, stood before him as if he faced an Ursus officer, and spoke with a conviction he had been saving for this moment, "I wish…..for my men to have a home to return to. A place where they can choose to turn away from war and be free from it."

Jacob huffed through his nose. The Chimera predicted such a plea indeed. "My haven will serve as their home. I have many accommodations available for war-weary soldiers. They will know the hospitality and generosity of my people. They shall be welcomed as guests and always will be. They shall be welcomed as residents if they wish to put down their shields for good. They will become my people and in turn, they will have my protection until my pilgrimage concludes."

Buldrokkas'tee looked down, deep in thought. "….my men will never agree with this."

A growl and a hiss rumbled together, a bleating throat reverberating right after. Jacob's frown deepened. "Refuge for your men…for what? What will you give me? What will I have in equal measure?"

Getting his cue, the Wendigo released his Arts. Smoke-like tendrils of blood red surged from his hands as he held them up at chest level before the rest of his body emanated the same war-like aura. The back of his eyeballs itched, a sign of them glowing brightly in his sockets and casting a subtle glow of crimson. His cloak bellowed from this discharge, subtly nudging any movable furniture in his proximity and activating the remaining intact Arts Units slotted inside his power armor, causing the cooling fan on his chest to spin rapidly and the LED lights to give off a covert glow of red and yellow, only visible in the darkest shadows and further enhancing his physical performance by multiple margins.

As he released a sharp hissing breath, the haunting whistles of the Wendigo lineage echoed out from a mysterious distance, signaling the start of the hunt.

And his deep voice intoned with a ceremony he had not practiced in a long time, fully submitting to the idea of handing over his life to the one that knew better.

"Witness this ritual, and know the heart of a Sarkaz.

Know this strength, and let the might of twenty legions stand by thy side.

Behold these Arts, and see no enemy live to stand against thee.

Hear my call, and gaze upon the victory I shall deliver.

Look upon me, and hear the pledge of a Wendigo's servitude to thy will."

Buldrokkas'tee can see this ending in one way or the other. He's not worried whether his offer would have been rejected or otherwise, because there was no way Jacob would.

There is always a transaction when it comes to the Chimera, regardless of the relationship one has with him. It doesn't matter what it is, whether superficial or profound, because there's always a price to pay for everything given and taken away. The Wendigo has been warned of that and went through with it anyway, owing it to the principle of not leaving kindness done to him unanswered and unpaid.

After all that Buldrokkas'tee has done, and the sheer weight of involvement his failures has got to do with Jacob as well, there is no way his life would not be enough to repay for every advice given and then ignored, especially his Revelations and Prophecies to make the Wendigo be aware of the only valuable thing in his life while his attention was constantly grabbed and wrangled by Ursus' whims.

He could either be taken as a servant, all of his power and reputation as Patriot serving the Chimera's pilgrimage, or he will be taken as a slave, killed and then resurrected by Jacob's serpent tail grafted to his body, creating an Adam more powerful than the ones made from lowly Ursus grunts.

Buldrokkas'tee is willing. Come what may.

Jacob's throat rumbled in song, starting as typical throatsinging holding a single note as his fingers curled and were held up at chest level just like the Wendigo.

Then the ground trembled, every furniture in the room shaking from the rising intensity of the same held note, more akin to the growling of a manebeast. It held the emotion of seeing a rival, intent on conquest and conquering the territory it held.

Then the songs of a Ram leaked in, deep and demonic, disgruntled and enraged. It wasn't randomly wailing and bleating, he realized, it was actually singing in rhythm, pausing and rumbling to the beat, turning what should just be noise into something that can be called music.

A seething exhale rattled across the cacophony, mixing unexpectedly well with the noise and further complementing the song. If the rumbling caused the shaking, the bleating the cracking on every surface on the walls, then the hissing split the walls apart like paper. Not just the wall but even the world behind it, causing reality to become jumbled and confusing.

When the throat of a Drake grunted, everything collapsed.

The fireplace was gone, breaking apart like broken glass and the pieces pulled away as if cyclones bellowed from everywhere. The hallway leading to voids went with it, taking away the semblance of a home. The cave was gone too, enduring stone and earth faring no better than a house made of processed brick and mortar.

The two of them and the components of the ceremony are what remained of existence, primal music and red Arts flaring out endlessly in a black void.

Mismatched eyes glowed their greatest, glaring a furious hellstorm into the Wendigo's red orbs. The hatred in them will burn for many years to come.

He reached out his hands towards him, palms up as if to receive, and Jacob bellowed his reply, emulating the day of their first meetings as strangers in Theresa's court. This time, with newer accolades and titles shouted with more reverence than the last time, contradicting the true emotions behind the person regaling them.

"Hail, Buldrokkas'tee!

Descendant Of The Forest Haunters, Only Son Of Hor-Tekrz!

Beloved Half Of Helen, Revered Father Of Grrovae'zzeal!

Worthy Champion Of Theresa, Loyal Patriot Of Ursus!

Leader Of A Mighty Legion, Commander Of The North Bear's Forces!

Hero Of All Sarkaz, Rival Of The Worthy!

Conqueror Of A Thousand Battles, Adversary Of The Collapsals!

Bane Of All Nations, Frustration Of The Defeated!

Receiver Of My Grace, And Fallen Brother Of My 13th Century!"

Then a force crushed Buldrokkas'tee from all directions, throwing his head back and pushing all four limbs towards specific directions, which he allowed, spread-eagled as he was held aloft from the phantom ground. He made no sound to imply his pain, even as the suffocating feeling tightened even further as if to ensure he felt every bit of agony.

"Blood For Peace. Peace For Blood. Buldrokkas'tee Asked This Of Me For The Price Of A Bountiful Life Led By Him, And I Deem It Satisfactory."

Through eyes reddened as they were steadily crushed, he saw the Chimera's tail rise high up until it's level to his chest. Its shape had shifted in hindsight, the tip morphed into a bony blade and connected to a flexible green length, intending to run itself through his power armor, through the enduring body of a battle-hardened Wendigo and into his wounded heart.

Anywhere else and that tail will have a better chance at piercing a mountain until it reached the other side than successfully impale even a half-breed Wendigo. But this wasn't anywhere else. This is where Jacob had crafted a world made of his own flesh. Anything goes and Jacob's will always comes first. Intruders and Visitors are forever bent to its whim, including a Wendigo.

And Buldrokkas'tee willingly walked into it. He made no mistakes. Not this time.

The tail reared back.

"May You Serve Me With A Willing Heart. May I Be Comforted As If The Legions Guard My Sleep. May All My Rivals Be Vanquished In Your Presence. May My Victories Be Swift And Ensured By Your Guidance. By My Will And In My Name, I Seal This Contract And Acknowledge Bukdrokkas'tee's Pledge."

The tail struck, and his vision became as black as the void before he felt his heart get removed from his chest.

---

The moment Buldrokkas'tee gained awareness, he immediately sat up in speeds that weren't possible for his size, causing a small gust to burst from the wind displacement, tipping the 7-liter vodka bottle sitting atop a rotting wooden box, sending it off the edge—

A giant clawed hand quickly grabbed it before it fell on the rocky ground.

A Vouivre hand, coated in white Draconic leather all the way to the elbow, which now carried white fur all the way to the head. A white lion adorned with a bushy white mane glared at the Wendigo, scolding red orbs trying its hardest to sear a hole in his helm.

The Beast slammed the large bottle back on top of the box before straightening his posture. He reached the height of an adult Wendigo, supported by his digitigrade feet ending in cloven hooves while his goat horns granted him a few more centimeters as well as additional pressure to the imposing image he projected as he stared down the once-asleep Buldrokkas'tee.

Never once did the Wendigo met a face like this.

"…Jacob?"

The lion's brow creased, twisting his face animalistically as he opened his maw, showing all the sharp teeth inside.

And a familiar voice demanded from the walls, deep and sullen.

"Sit properly, servant."

Then Buldrokkas'tee recalled the last moments he could gather. He was visited by one of Jacob's slave, informing him that the Chimera intends to settle what happened. Without hesitation, he answered the call, informing the endeavor to his men and preparing them if he's unlikely to come back before he walked into a torturous blizzard for hours, entered a home, and saw a cave inside—

He bowed his head, "Ah…."

He looked down near him, seeing the cold brown soil, untouched by the snow and saw a piece of building debris nearby. He looked around him and he just noticed that he's situated inside a small home, the roof destroyed and the walls having many holes, if it was even considered a wall thanks to the scale of the damage.

So, Jacob built his flesh and reality in a sizable radius around this ruin and pasted Buldrokkas'tee's home on it? The Wendigo can only question whether the house was here already or the Chimera ripped it out of somewhere and planted it here for the ritual to take place.

He stood up and pulled the building debris close, rotating it a few times until he found a sitting spot on it and took it.

Jacob took the bottle in his hand and twisted off the cap before pouring on one of a pair of large drinking glasses that were not definitely not there seconds ago.

Filled halfway, the Chimera put the bottle down. Accordingly, Buldrokkas'tee took the bottle in turn and poured on the other unfilled glass, making sure to match the similar amount given to him.

Once he put the bottle back down, Jacob took the glass poured by the man while the Wendigo took the other. Raising it up together, the Chimera toasted lowly, blank of all celebration in his voice, "To your new labor, Buldrokkas'tee."

The man of honor lowered the cloth covering the lower half of his face down to his neck. "May my works serve you well, Jacob."

With a clink, they drank and reveled in the warmth that spread across their body. To the Wendigo's bafflement, the vodka had a sweet, if spicy flavor. It isn't a familiar taste either. The bottle had no label, simply a large glass container that couldn't possibly be held by anyone's hands smaller than it.

"Your personal brew, Jacob?" He inquired, holding out his glass towards his new superior for another pour.

The Chimera nodded, licking his chops from right to left as he poured Buldrokkas'tee's glass. "You know how I am."

"Yes. You dislike the bitter taste of any alcohol. You bear with it so as to not offend me in my home."

Jacob extended a hand towards him and Buldrokkas'tee suddenly saw a slab of red meat materialize in the Draconian hold the sooner his eyes focused on it, uncooked and quite unfrozen for a piece exposed to the cold winter air. "I cannot make a fire here so this will do."

The Wendigo nodded as he accepted the offer, finishing his second shot, "Thank you." He took it to his mouth and took a generous bite. As he chewed the squishy morsel, the taste baffled him again, making him pause. "It's….delicious."

"You're welcome." The Chimera took a bite of another prime meat slab that appeared to his hand just as suddenly, pouring more on Buldrokkas'tee's glass.

After several more shots to hold off the chill of the winter even though not a single snowflake seems to not enter any of the wide openings on the ruins, Buldrokkas'tee raised a question regarding his current living and aware state, "I am not fit to be an Adam?"

The serpent tail that lied flat on the ground began to move, slowly writhing in displeasure. "You do not deserve a silent fate for the sins you've done against me." Jacob paused, taking a swig from his glass. He viciously tore down on what remained of the meat slab in his hand as if it's someone's throat. Most likely the Wendigo's, "If you brought yourself to me, intending to die rather than to give your life for another, I would have condemned you to eternity. You will walk an Eden, alone, sharing it with no one as you know only emptiness and a life dedicated to nothing but your regrets. And just to spite you further, I'll torment your men until the day they step off a cliff and die screaming in pain."

Buldrokkas'tee merely blinked, placid and understanding. "A life that isn't held in value by he who has it has no merit to the table you set. I would not dare disrespect you in such a way."

"That's all that you would not cross? What of the warnings I gave you? The Prophecies? Revelations…!? Have you respected any of that….!? Have you forgotten that Grrovae'zzeal is not just your son….!? Do you think that I gave those things purely for your sakes….!? Ever since your son was born, did you actually think it was all about you!?"

"Yes." Buldrokkas'tee surprised even himself when he admitted it so calmly and quietly. The regret that came with it still stung so deeply, but the fact that it came out easily was highly unusual. "I had thought wrong and put my own before my son's."

"Of course you did." A hiss and growl seeped out of Jacob's sneering maw, "Because you dare to think that because you are his father, only you will have to bear the burden of protecting your son by yourself because you see yourself better than anyone at doing so and because of your reputation as The Patriot, you assumed no one would dare to touch him. You never thought he snuck out, past the ShieldGuards you left by your homestead to protect him. You fail to see him as a man other than yourself. He has his own heart and will to follow. He reached out to you, pleading for your understanding, saying the words I had said to you many times before, and that eluded you of what he intends to do when he realizes that you will never listen to him?"

"How do you know this?" Audaciously, he asked accusingly. Buldrokkas'tee failed to fear what repercussion he'd suffer for overstepping his bounds.

Immediately, his heart felt like it was crushed, making him grab at his chest and curl in agony as he dropped the glass he held.

The Chimera's rage bursted out, his tail lashing against the shattered walls mightily and his size seeming to expand, "How do I know, Buldrokkas'tee!?" His words came out in snarls, his three other heads' voices leaking through, "Does your years of knowing me fail to give you the answer!? Are you so blind to not see that the tenacity you are known for in the battlefield is what got your son killed the moment you brought it to your home!? Because you would not listen to him!? You are his Father! You gave him love and taught him kindness! How could he have turned out to be other than a man who loves and is righteous!?"

His physical mouth growled monstrously, shaking the earth and what remained of the ruins' walls. His phantom voice roared, "As your son, you are what he wishes to be! Not a warrior but a man of strength who protects! He has the mind of a scholar but the fire in his heart is likened to his father that embodies his ideal of strength! And that eludes you of what he could do for the ones he wishes to help when the very father he idolizes does not have his side and instead kept his loyalty to tyrants and selfish men who care less for anyone that isn't themselves!?"

Suddenly, Buldrokkas'tee's head and arms were blown back, hung back to face the sky and spread apart respectively, crushed by the same familiar invisible force that steadily increased in tightness. This time, he could not hide the pain in his voice. Despite his incredible frame and advanced power armor, this agony felt as if he had none of both.

"DOES IT!? BULDROKKAS'TEE!? DOES IT TRULY ELUDE YOU SO!?" The force multiplied by dozens of margins, his every organ grabbed and crumpled inside millions of hands that materialized inside his body, "DOES THIS ANSWER YOUR QUESTION, YOU FILTHY AND IGNORANT CUR!?"

As suddenly as it arrived, that crushing sensation disappeared. Buldrokkas'tee fell down on his hands as he kept his face from meeting the ground, heaving in breath in such a way that wasn't possible before.

Shaking off the redness of his vision and coughing out the blood that surged inside his throat to the floor, he looked up and he found the glass he dropped suddenly in Jacob's hand, held out to him, refilled midway with more vodka, as if what transpired had went just like the ritual.

As he turned to the Chimera's face, the glare had not softened, neither did the sneer. They held the Wendigo uncompromisingly as a failure, judgment and spite ever so bountiful in their red depths.

The Wendigo looked down, lowering his head in submission, reeling from the excruciating guilt as he took the glass and downed it in one gulp.

He placed his glass atop the box, Jacob poured some more into it. All transgressions are quickly put aside.

"I have sent your men to the haven while you slept." Jacob mentioned, his voice now steady and quiet, "They should be settled in their accommodations by now. All they need to do is to adjust to their new environment. Also, I found 3 among them to be Infected so I had them treated and stabilized. In a year from now, I'll have their lesions removed."

"Thank you." Buldrokkas'tee promptly sent his gratitude. Such a miraculous charity, especially for an Infected person, is both the easiest and most damning wish to acquire from the Chimera. You can only ask him one gift free of any transactional obligations, but people rarely expect to be Infected later in life, especially in Ursus. "How long have I been asleep, if I may ask?"

"3 hours before you stepped into the door of your home."

Which means that the moment he had his foot inside his homestead in Jacob's fabricated reality, everything that occurred inside, especially the ritual, happened in the same span as a millisecond.

"I also stabilized your Infection as well." Buldrokkas'tee looked at him in shock upon hearing that. Jacob huffed at his surprise, dismissive of the assumption that he won't do the same to the person he's so disappointed in, "I considered removing your Oripathy but I chose not to. Your Arts are amplified by your illness and I deem it useful."

"I….see." Which means the Wendigo will never die of Oripathy. He may still be Infected but it will never progress from now on. Even if he purposefully worsens it by overusing his Arts, it would never bypass the limited output set by Jacob.

"I've set my terms, Buldrokkas'tee." Jacob poured the last vodka drops to the Wendigo's glass, placing the empty bottle atop the box's surface with a punctuating thump, "And I've decided that you will not enter my haven until a decade has passed. Until then, you will provide what you can to the endeavors I'll endure."

Buldrokkas'tee took his glass to his lips and drank the last drop. Sighing blissfully, he put down his glass and pulled the black cloth back up over the exposed lower half of his face. "What are your endeavors?"

"The goal I have in mind of this pilgrimage is to bring an end to Ursus' tyranny of the Infected. For now, we will rescue every Infected and innocent in the gulags. There will be no end of prisoners coming and going, and there are hundreds, maybe thousands of mines scattered in the Tundra. We must save as many as we can and bring them to the haven. We can discuss how we can proceed once the gates of my haven are open to you."

"Understood." The Wendigo nodded, standing up and clenching his fists as he moved to pick up his halberd and shield that were placed next to the wall on his right. His armaments now comfortably placed at where they should be, he asked, "My men have gathered information of a large quarry that we had planned to raid and liberate before you called for me. We can—"

In perfect unison, both men snapped their attention to face what's behind them. Though there was a ruined wall, they could hear a sound amidst the blowing wind of the snow. A faint whistling, constant and coming closer.

Buldrokkas'tee recognized it immediately, "Mortar."

50 mortar shells come screaming down in an iron rain and reduced what was left of the ruins to nothing, sending a shockwave that reached as far as a kilometer.

The Wendigo hid behind his great shield, charging straight through the chaos and dodging or outright blocking any mortar bombardment that came down on him, deafening explosions and organ-melting shockwaves failing to make a difference to his speed. Once he was outside the general target location, he quickly found the mortar team concealed near the tree line ahead with a single glance.

He reared back his halberd, his throat roaring a murderous whistle as he infused the weapon with his Arts. At the peak of rotation, he transferred the entire weight of his body and armor into his arm and launched.

The red missile sailed with a haunting cry, as if it were a living thing that held a grudge on anything its master wishes dead, and it saw an enemy resting in its target trajectory, motivating its speed even faster.

At the point of impact, the 400-meter wide explosion of crimson sent back a harsher shockwave that practically blew the Wendigo's cloak off his shoulders, the delayed sound coming a second after.

Once the smoke cleared, the aftermath revealed a smoking crater and a horribly deformed tree line, numerous dead trees either blown to bits or lying flat on the ground from the sheer force of impact. What remained of the mortar team were their equipment and their operators' horribly disfigured bodies, scattered everywhere or barely visible from the ever-falling snow beginning to hide the evidence.

Recalling the halberd back to existence in his right hand and slamming the butt to the ground, creating a small shockwave, he informed the approaching presence behind him, "Patrolmen don't carry around mortars. This could only be an assault planned against you, and they're putting more effort to the arsenal they'll need. I suspect more than 10 companies are marching towards us this very moment."

A voice lined with the speaking mouths of 3 other animals said in unison, bringing attention to the Beast that trudged beside him. "That's the exact number of companies you've brought with you against me."

Buldrokkas'tee turned to look at his superior, taking in the new shape molded by that sudden bombardment. "You know how Ursus is. They are learning what they could from the best…..I was once their best."

What was once a bipedal amalgamation of multiple races now deigned to take up a quadrupedal stance, supporting a hulking chest that grew massively to absorb punishment worse than a mortar strike. Draconic hands pushed its knuckles on the ground as it held up its frame, elbows jutting out singular spikes. His mane became even more prominent and thick, practically expanding his size, protecting his neck from even the biggest jaws that bite.

To the Wendigo's shock, Jacob now had 4 eyes on his head, one serpent pair facing forward like the predator while the horizontal pupils of the other faced sideways like the prey, all colored red. At the tip of his snout, just above his nose was a singular ebony horn, hardened and ready to gore an entire legion. Buldrokkas'tee suspected a new pair of horns to go with these changes as he looked upwards, but he only saw a single horn jutting out in-between the Caprinae ones on his forehead.

Looking behind, the Chimera's legs have grown massively in musculature, each limb almost thicker than the Wendigo's torso, tense and sturdy as the cloven hooves either stomped or dug trenches under it. Looking at the writhing sight near the rear, Buldrokkas'tee quickly saw that the lengthy green tail had split into three instead of one appendage lashing so rapidly it gave the illusion of many more. Two had spikes at the tips as needed for a fight, flailing impatiently, but the center tail was very still and hovered its bulbous 'head' in a scorpion angle. While it had no obvious circular bulges to indicate closed eyelids, the Wendigo was caught between seeing a vertical slit to imply a closed mouth or his eyes were just filling the blanks on such a familiar but featureless shape.

Buldrokkas'tee quickly spun to face forward, his great shield held out in front of him. He looked upwards ahead and saw the swarm of Artillery Targeteer drones hovering in. By the rumbling from the ground, the expected horde of Warbeasts were also let loose.

Together, there's no doubt about victory but how can they go about this while minimizing effort and manual resources? They have not fought side by side once to serve as a basis for immediate tactics either.

"Who shall be the vanguard?" He asked.

"I shall." The Chimera pounded its left fist on the ground, releasing a light but rumbling roar on the approaching hordes of Beastial muscle, fang and claw, "I will scatter their formation. Spread terror and confusion amongst the vanguard and rearguard. Draw the mortar fire to myself. Blind to your presence."

"I see." Buldrokkas'tee activated his Arts once again, releasing tendrils of red mist from his body and activating the Arts units on his power armor, "I shall assault their flanks once I'm through with the Warbeasts. Pincer them if the environment is in our favor and you're conveniently positioned."

Jacob reared back on his hind legs, displaying his ferocity and size as he pounded his chest and slammed his forelegs back down, creating a minor shockwave on impact that cratered the layer of snow around him and revealed the wet soil underneath.

His aggressive growling and snapping contrasted heavily to the calmness of his phantom voices, "My slaves will hunt down their commanding officers for questioning. We can take our time until they are found."

Buldrokkas'tee's fingers wrapped around his weapon rippled in a wave before tightening his grip, the halberd coated in the same aura as his empowering Arts. The LED lights of his power armor glowed brighter in response, the cooling fan on his chest spinning rapidly. "Then by your cue, I shall march."

"Go. Assume your labor and bring me victory."

With that, the Chimera bolted off in a furious sprint that wasn't possible for a creature his size. Due to the disparity in mass, Jacob cleanly breached through the approaching hordes of Warbeasts without losing his speed, crushing them under his four legs, breaking them away from his path with his frontal horns or quickly killed by his tail spikes through their hearts or heads, scattering their loose but overwhelming numbers as intended.

Buldrokkas'tee sprinted after the rampageous Beast with a nearly similar pace, the snow in his path swept aside as his raging Arts and fully-functioning power armor allowed this increased mobility. His eyes blazed crimson, his throat growled in preparation as the muscular animals caught his approaching scent and the haunting distant cries of his lineage leaked through his grit teeth.

Seconds before collision, he raised his halberd high and, with a shrill and ear-piercing cry, swung down with the fury of a meteor. Though he hit no target, the force of his swing was so great it sent not just dozens of Manglers close to the impact zone flying as far as a hundred meters away, the dirt and snow on the ground ruptured like a volcano of brown and white and creating deep trenches everywhere, once idle dirt and snow blown towards the skies before falling back down in a cascade, sending the creatures into a panic and breaking them out of their battle-hungry conditioning.

As the hordes scattered away from the mightier predator, Buldrokkas'tee returned to his guarded stance and charged forward to his objective, gliding through the deep canyons he created with the ease of a leisurely sprint.

The mortar teams, the Casters, and their heavy reinforcements must be wiped out first before he regroups with the Chimera. The latter's likely engaged with the vanguard and rearguard before he focus on the main forces, drawing all of their attention and brutalizing the opposition with the ease provided by the fury of four animals in a single body. Judging by the deafening roars and the endless tremors of the ground, the battle must be a catastrophic sight to see.

Buldrokkas'tee will do the same as his duty demands, this time for a cause greater than he could see. From now on, he will trust his former brother and friend. He is no longer the Patriot of Ursus. In Jacob's righteous mission of liberation and the end of the country's tyranny against him and his fellows, he will reaffirm himself and become the Patriot against Ursus' evil.

The high command and Ursus itself will rue the day they betrayed his heart and made an enemy of him.