Marvel: Impregnation System-Chapter 187 - 177: Waves

"SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"

The forest, once deathly still, now screamed with the fury of an unholy stampede.

From the abyss of the treeline, they came, those chimeric nightmares that had dug themselves from the earth of Camelot, had finally arrived.

This horde, built for speed, had their bodies made up of a blasphemous fusion of nature's fastest hunters.

Their wiry, muscular frames rippled with the raw power of wolves and hyenas, spines bending like coiled springs before launching them forward in bursts of terrifying speed.

Elongated, jagged skulls echoed the essence of predatory beasts, coyote-like snouts lined with serrated fangs, and jackal ears twitching at the faintest sounds.

Their limbs, a grotesque fusion of raptor talons connected to the tendons of cheetah's, struck the earth in rapid succession, their human fingers digging into the dirt and propelling them forward.

BAM

BAM

BAM

Ricky's reaction was immediate as a mental wall materialized before them all in an instant, its translucent edges crackling with sheer force of his will.

Without even realizing, the chimeras slammed into it at full speed, their mindless momentum sending sickening crunches through the air as their own bones snapped upon impact.

Blood spattered against the invisible barrier, grotesque stains smearing across its surface but the creatures didn't stop.

They didn't hesitate.

They didn't even acknowledge their fallen brethren.

They adapted.

Those behind leapt off their fallen kin, using them as platforms to launch themselves higher as if instinctively knowing there was an end.

Some twisted mid-air, clawing and acting as stairs for their other brethren as sewn on hands stepped on them and trampled them to death before they took their place atop the growing staircase.

They were just relentless.

More surged forward, climbing over the crumpled bodies, their soulless eyes locked onto their targets, their prey, and they salivated at the taste of their living flesh.

"Do you see this?" Alexander asked, seizing the opportunity of the sudden surprise attack that left the coven scrambling for their grimoires and Morgana preparing for the assault all while this gerbil used the moment as a teaching opportunity.

"This is what happens when power lacks control," Alexander's voice was calm, almost detached, as he gestured toward the relentless horde, oblivious to their own impending destruction.

"Strength without discipline is nothing but wasted potential, it is merely throwing a tedious amount of power at a well-lined wall," Alexander described, gesturing his paw as he watched the chimeras form up the barrier.

Alexander all but gestured lazily with a paw, as if to highlight the irony of the creatures battering themselves against Ricky's mental barrier.

Again and again, they slammed into it, spine-shattering impacts that sent shockwaves rippling through the air.

Some collapsed instantly, breaking their own necks by their own blind aggression while others adapted, veering off, flooding outwards towards the side to see if this barrier showed signs of end.

"Really, are you seriously gonna do this right f*cking now?" Ricky asked, feeling the tide slam against his mind but his eyes flared a greener tint.

"I understand that you harbor such powers," Alexander continued, ignoring Ricky's words all together, his tone measured, eyes never leaving the chaos beyond Ricky's barrier.

"But you must center yourself like a city, fortified and unshaken, rather than mere cannon fodder, thrown recklessly against the arms of war." Alexander gaze flicked toward Ricky, the smirk fading into something more calculated.

"Power alone isn't enough, it must be anchored, directed, otherwise, you're just another beast in the horde, clawing at walls you'll never break." Alexander referenced the very horde fighting against the invisible wall, uncaring as a massive line of horrific chimera creatures formed in front of his view.

"It is what my mentor aristotle always said-........ah, what was it again?" Alexander suddenly continued, praising his mentor only to falter at the precipice of his own train of thought.

"It was on the very tip of my tongue, hmmmmmmmmmmm~" Alexander tried to remember, pondering all while Ricky laughed as another, seemingly thousand, chimera lunged at the barrier.

"Yeah, take your f*cking time, it's not like I'm putting up a goddamn barrier that separates us from these things!" Ricky snapped, only using the barrier so that the others wouldn't be caught off guard.

Gazing around as the coven slowly got into position, exactly as Alexander had instructed for this very scenario, they began offering support to the undead, who crawled steadily towards the front lines.

"Finally, FINALLY I GET TO TASTE THE SOULS OF MY MASTER'S ENEMIES!" Boney yelled, pumping himself up with excitement, while Chuck's eyes glowed faintly with the subtle light of his magic.

"Ah, I understand, master. Truly, this servant of yours will carry out your will," Chuck chuckled, his skeletal fingers crackling with dark magic.

"Kill mE~"

"kILL Me~"

"kill ME!~"

A massive mound of twisted, rotting flesh sluggishly dragged itself forward, its grotesque form propelled by a mess of limbs that writhed and shifted.

The faces of the fallen mob bosses twisted in agony, their eyes rolled back, whispering out the voices of their damnation.

Though it moved with the slow, deliberate pace of a snail, the creature's ability to assimilate the flesh of its victims allowed it to continue its grotesque advance.

As it neared, it found its place on Ricky's right side, rolling to a halt as the amalgamation of flesh continued its cries for any reprieve of death.

CLOP

The wraith steed of the variant of Meggan Puceanu clopped slowly, its spectral hooves echoing against the ground, until it came to a gradual halt at Ricky's left side.

The headless dullahan, once a variant of Brian Braddock, rose up from the saddle, his sorrow palpable as it seemed to seep through the very scythe he gripped.

His silent weeping radiated from the hollow space where his head once rested, the blade of the scythe trembling with the weight of grief that could not be expressed in words.

"Is this necessary?" Morgana asked, her gaze flickering between Ricky and Alexander, who were bickering back and forth while everything unfolded around them.

Asterion, ever the picture of calm, politely smiled and looked up at her with a serene expression

However, instead of advancing forward, Morgana stayed near the unconscious Lady Roma, still bound by Chastiefol's 1st form along with Asterion, having been personally asked by Ricky himself.

"It is part of their process and usually, they'd be more angry if things were more dire," Asterion said, trying to put Morgana at ease only to do the exact opposite as she frowned.

"I don't know how to respond to that-" Morgana said, holding back her words, only for Eldric to step forward because for him and the coven, this was it.

Nothing else mattered as their main objective, their reason for coming this far, his reason for following a man he did not like but respected or like, stood before them and with it, so did his resolve.

"COVEN, READY YOUR GRIMOIRES, TODAY WE LAY TO REST OUR FAMILY!" Eldric roared, unable to hold back any longer as his voice echoed through the air, drawing the attention of every member of the coven.

The ones who had been standing off to the side, lingering in the shadows of Ricky's adventures, finally stepped forward.

No longer mere bystanders, they were ready to take the stage.

Everything clicked into place, and once it did, Ricky turned his focus back to the wall.

Above him, his gatling gun-like constructs slowly began to assemble, since if the ground was filled with his forces, the skies were now filled with his influence, his will.

The constructs stretched outward, pieces of psychic structures shifting and arranging to suit the mechanical energy flowing through them.

Each movement was deliberate, a calculated dance of power and precision as Ricky's will began to take shape above the battlefield.

"Ah, I shall save my mentor's words for later," Alexander shrugged, waving his hand over to Ricky, signaling that he was ready.

Then, the psychic barrier that had been holding up this pseudo-mountain of mindless Chimera bodies, twisting and writhing among their fallen brethren, finally gave way.

The wall that had kept them at bay vanished as if it was never there, leaving nothing to stop their advance.

It was then that an avalanche of bodies erupted, the ground shaking beneath the force of their surge.

Undeterred by their own destruction, the Chimeras surged forward in an unrelenting wave, crashing into the earth with a thunderous roar.

BOOM

The collision's force was deafening, a violent eruption that sent bones shattering and grotesque limbs flinging aside.

The mountain of carcasses buckled beneath its own weight, sending a cascade of twisted, wriggling bodies spilling down like a flood of death all while the living Chimeras rode the flood, surging forward like an unrelenting tide

To these mindless beasts, only one thing mattered, their instinctive drive to tear through any obstacle in their path.

"FOR MACEDONIA!" Alexander roared, rallying the charge as he surged forward with all his might.

"What he said!" Ricky yelled, catching the signal, lunged toward the chimera horde, a wave of sheer force following in his wake.

His three spectral arms materialized from his back, two of them drawing the corrupted Venomous Fang and Tungsten Blade from his flesh before the Stormcaller's Glaive was pulled from his inventory.

BOOM

Another avalanche of chimera monsters descended with a deafening roar, only to surge upward again like an unstoppable tide.

Rippling forward like an ocean in motion, its shadow stretched over Ricky, a crushing wave threatening to swallow him whole.

The mass of twisted creatures sought collapsed in on him until, in an instant, a red streak of electricity tore through the chaos, crackling like a storm unleashed.

SPLAT

BAM

The tide crashed down, but not as it had intended.

It parted as if Ricky was Moses himself, slicing through the middle and utterly dissolving the momentum in an instant.

Ricky couldn't even count how many Chimeras he had just killed, but the moment their cut-in-half corpses hit the ground, more surged over them as if they were desperately trying to intimidate the mighty hydra, relentless as they stampeded their fallen brethren into mush under their own drive to consume.

But before they could all swarm in around him, the air suddenly thickened with a faint, hissing sound, as if the very atmosphere was warning of something yet to come.

BOOM

BOOM

The madness of Ricky's psychic constructs rained down on the encroaching horde of Chimeras that sought to overwhelm him.

Bullets, shaped by his mind, tore through the air, propelled forward by the miniature explosions of his pyrokinesis that ignited the constructs into fully-fledged machinery.

Blood splattered into the air like fountains, but its spray was quickly drowned out by the sounds of bodies being crushed under the weight of his gatling gun-like constructs, ripped apart, and reduced to nothing more than a mound of fleshy remnants.

But through all of it, Ricky saw it all as nothing more than a stepping stone, unfazed by the carnage beneath his feet.

Crushing his foot forward, the sickening crack of a Chimera's skull reverberated through the air as he pressed on it and used it as a mere springboard.

The three spectral hands, imbued with the elements of fire, water, and air, swirled madly around his body as any Chimera daring to lunge at his blind spot was shredded under the onslaught.

The spectral hands moved with a complete recklessness, their swings unrefined but devastating.

They split the creatures into pieces one after the other, each swipe cutting down three or four monsters, but lacking the precision of true mastery.

The real art of the slaughter, however, lay in Ricky's two original hands.

One grasped the ebony shield, a symbol of defense, while the other held the ebony blade, an extension of his will and sharpened for destruction.

One guarded the body while the other carved through the oncoming storm.

WHOOSH

A gust of air reverberated as Ricky swung the blade across his body as the arc of the blade, moving with deadly precision, sliced through the air, and in its wake, a violent explosion of red electricity erupted, ripping through the space before it.

The entire arc seemed to slice through the horde in an instant, cleaving monsters in half and leaving no room for escape.

"FIREBALL!".

"ICICLE SPEARS!"

"LIGHTNING STRIKE!"

The Coven members unleashed their spells from a safe distance, each one targeting the rear of the advancing horde, ensuring that they crippled the monsters without ever threatening Ricky.

Flames erupted, shards of ice shot through the air, and bolts of lightning cracked through the sky, each spell causing devastation to the horde.

They were a constant barrage, a wall of magic that battered the enemies flank relentlessly.

But among the chaos, the Dullahan surged forward as the wraith steed's hooves pounded the earth with unnatural force.

The headless figure raised its massive scythe high, its mournful sorrow pouring it all into the weapon.

The very air seemed to crack with grief as the Dullahan swung the scythe down with tremendous force, its momentum enhanced by the weight of its loss and fury.

The strike came with the might of an entire storm, the scythe cleaving through the very air as it aimed for the heart of the horde.

The wail of the Dullahan continued to echo, reverberating in the minds of those nearby, but there was never any hesitation in its attack.

Every swing was driven by the anguish of its existence, every blow infused with the sorrow of a being who no longer knew peace.

Green blood splattered across the Dullahan as it cut down the seemingly endless horde, its scythe a relentless force of death.

Meanwhile, the Corpse Colossus continued its slow, monstrous advance.

Its massive, goo-like body slowly crawled forward with the various limbs and arms able to pull its massive, twisted biology forward.

However when the Chimeras lunged at it, they found themselves sinking into the soft, malleable flesh.

Their sharp teeth and claws, meant to tear through it, only sank deeper into the goo-like surface of its supposed skin, swallowed by it in a horrific, almost slow-motion engulfment.

The Chimeras struggled, writhing inside the mass of the Corpse Colossus like quicksand, trying to tear their way free, but it was futile.

The beast's very body was a prison, a living nightmare that consumed and assimilated any attackers that dared to challenge it.

It continued to move forward, dragging the unfortunate monsters deeper into its viscous form, like a slug slithering through the muck, indifferent to the futile struggles around it.

"GET SOME, GET SOME!" Ricky roared, his voice a battle cry as he crushed the endless horde with sheer, unrelenting power.

A mountain of corpses piled at his feet as he kept cutting through them, his stance shifted completely at the endless slaughter.

No longer striking forward, he began striking downward, the corpses piling on his very feet and prompting him up to the point where the horde had to almost climb up towards him.

They clawed and teared their way up but those who managed to even make it close were mowed down by the relentless attacks that his gauntlet guns rained down.

However, there was a growing problem that remained distant from Ricky's perception.

When Ricky formed that barrier, he halted the Chimera's advance, giving everyone around him enough time to set up.

At the same time, he reformed the scattered horde of the vanguard, bringing together their various forms into one unified, conjured group, a line.

When Merlin issued the command to speed up their approach, it meant that the Chimera's wouldn't move in an organized march but rather as a sprawling mass, a horde of bodies shuffling toward Ricky.

Only the fastest and nimblest creatures reached him first, but even they were quickly broken up and separated by their pure speed.

But that brief adjustment, that momentary pause to allow Ricky's forces time to power up, also allowed this relentless wave of Chimera's to finally consolidate into a line.

A line of bodies, held in place by the vast, ever-expanding flat barrier, which was suddenly released, unleashing the full force of their assault.

The Chimera horde poured down on Ricky in a straight line, but he didn't try to fight the entire stretch; that would've been impossible due to the sheer numbers.

Instead, he focused on the center of the mass, standing at the forefront to halt its advance.

In doing so, however, the outer edges of the line, which Ricky wasn't able to engage with as ruthlessly, started to close in on him.

While Ricky relentlessly cut through the middle, the rest of the horde adapted, tightening around him.

He was too deep in the thralls of the battle to realize the shift, unaware that the line had transformed from a straight line into a U-shaped formation.

If no one else saw it, Alexander did.

Acutely aware of the situation and how this U-shaped formation would inevitably tighten into a full-blown circle, his mind started to churn with strategy.

When an army separates from its commander, the army struggles like a headless chicken.

Even if capable, without a head, a leader, the body just runs around in circles, bleeding to death.

Seeing the danger of Ricky being trapped, Alexander made a decisive move as he veered Bucephalus off course, shifting the battlefield's dynamics and breaking the rhythm of the horde.

"TO ME, MY LEGION!" Alexander roared, abruptly changing Bucephalus' maddened charge, stomping away from the Chimera's as the undead spearmen began to turn towards him.

Rushing off to the side, they wrapped around the entire line, the whole battlefield, positioning themselves on the outside of the encroaching wave.

Clearing the threshold and repositioning his forces to the side of the battle, Alexander twisted Bucephalus to face forward as his eyes reflected the madness that was war.

"CHARGE!" Alexander bellowed, his voice giving way to the mighty steed's hooves striking the earth with a resounding force, the ground shuddering beneath their weight.

Lighting crackled around Bucephalus, the steed leaning into its power, charging forward without hesitation or fear.

Sparks swirled like a storm around its powerful frame, and from the depths of the divine, the Bulls of the Gordius Wheel began to take form.

The ethereal chariot materialized, its golden aura shimmering with divine energy.

The undead, ever loyal, immediately fell into formation, some of the fiercest among them, including the legendary guard captain, mounting the chariot.

The conqueror himself rode atop Bucephalus, his form poised with authority, perched on the steed's snout as they surged into the fray.

BOOM

The ground trembled beneath Ricky's feet, his ears ringing from the deafening explosion of force.

His eyes snapped toward the source only to see Alexander's charge and the line of Chimeras that had slowly been closing around him was obliterated, broken open by Bucephalus's sheer might, leaving a gaping hole in its wake.

Before the gap could fully close, twenty spearmen, as if moved by some unseen command, poured through and wedged themselves in the breach.

They moved in perfect unison, striking with precision, cutting off any chance of the line reforming.

In an instant, one-third of the advancing horde was shattered, the tide of battle split with a single, calculated maneuver.

"FORWARD, FORWARD, ON ME!" Alexander's voice boomed, towering over the minds of the coven while urging the undead warriors to press on as he pushed Ricky's charge even further.

His command cut through the battlefield, a call to action that would reshape the very flow of the fight.

BOOM

With a deafening crack, Alexander's charge crushed the other side of the Chimera's enclosure.

The force of Bucephalus's assault sent the creatures scattering, their lines buckling under the weight of the attack.

A handful of undead warriors dismounted from the chariot, their movements sharp and precise as they lunged toward the newly formed gap, ready to tear into the horde.

Eldric's eyes widened, his mind racing as he understood Alexander's strategy.

Without hesitation, he began channeling an immense surge of magical energy into his grimoire, his fingers moving rapidly through the pages as he prepared to assist in turning the tide.

"QUICKLY, ATTACK THE BREACHED RANKS OF THESE FOUL CREATURES!" Eldric bellowed, thrusting his hands forward as a torrent of fiery spears rained down on the left side of the shattered horde.

The coven and witches, seeing the opening, followed suit, unleashing their own devastating attacks in a coordinated surge.

Morgana, witnessing the shift in the battle, raised her hands, her fingers crackling with dark energy.

With a commanding motion, she directed the vast army of her skeletal undead, their blackened bones gleaming under the dim light, to surge alongside Alexander's legion on the right.

As the skeletons poured forward, Ricky, fueled by determination, spearheaded the charge, cutting through the chaos with relentless force.

SPLAT

With the head of the horde now in his sights, Ricky's focus sharpened, his every movement a calculated strike.

He trusted Alexander to guard his back, the general's relentless assault breaking the horde into mere shallow waves, leaving them scattered and weakened.

The coven, Alexander, Morgana, and Ricky each took command of one-third of the advancing swarm.

What was once a monstrous tide of relentless beasts, now faltered, crushed and broken up under their whims, into small undercurrents.

'I gotta go forward,' Ricky suddenly realized, his train of thought clear as his mind began to sharpen with each passing moment.

The pull he felt wasn't just instinct, his newfound understanding of his surroundings was crystallizing.

Ever since his intelligence had begun to grow, things that once seemed complex were now falling into place with ease.

It wasn't that he instantly knew everything about how the world works or things like psychics, but after witnessing it unfold before his eyes, it became easier for him to grasp.

The pieces clicked together in a way they hadn't before as it wasn't instant mastery, but an evolving comprehension, like a blurred image slowly coming into focus.

A week ago, he might have dismissed or struggled to process what he was seeing, but now, he could grasp the logic

His senses, his awareness, it all clicked as if he was breathing, and with a deep inhale, Ricky poured his strength into the next step, propelling himself forward with unwavering resolve.

BOOM

A deafening thunderclap rang through the air as Ricky gripped the ebony shield tight, its weight a comforting presence as he charged forward like a spearhead.

With a single motion, he plunged into the heart of the massed Chimera, cutting through them with unrelenting force.

His spectral hands whipped around him, flying about in a chaotic dance of destructive power, each movement perfectly attuned to the needs of their wielder.

They swatted down anything that dared come near, clearing a path as Ricky pushed deeper into the center.

Taking a page from Alexander's playbook, Ricky split the incoming force in two.

But instead of splitting his attention between both halves, he abruptly turned his back to one and charged forward with relentless determination.

The Chimeras, their mouths salivating, lunged at him, eager to tear into his back.

But before they could strike, a barrage of raw power descended upon them, smashing into their skulls and splattering their bodies into a disgusting mess.

Controlling his gauntlet gun constructs to unleash a relentless barrage into one half of the horde, Ricky poured every ounce of his power into the ebony blade in his other hand.

"YOU LIKE THAT, HUH? OH YOU LOVE IT!" Ricky yelled, demanding these mindless Chimera's while boasting his own morale.

With precise swings, his blade cut through any obstacle, any resistance, leaving a trail of destruction in its wake.

Streaks of electricity crackled around him, surging through the chaotic battlefield as they tore through the remaining Chimera.

In an instant, the once formidable force was reduced to nothing more than scattered pieces.

It was a blur after that, as if Ricky had turned on autopilot, his motions repeating the same strikes with the precision of someone chopping vegetables into small cubes, over and over again.

Time passed, with more and more blood staining his ebony knight armor, until Ricky stood amidst the carnage, panting heavily.

Huff

Huff

"Woah." Ricky muttered, his voice a mix of disbelief and exhaustion as he wiped the green blood off his helmet, his hand lingering for a moment as he took in the scene.

Mounds of corpses were piled upon each other, the fallen chimera strewn across the battlefield in large heaps of charred and cut flesh.

Despite their status as mere cannon fodder, the numbers were still staggering at nearly a thousand had fallen from his view, and Ricky himself had decimated a third of that force alone.

Clop

Clop

"Well done, Ricky," Alexander praised, his voice carrying a tone of admiration as Bucephalus trotted over, the sound of his hooves resonating across the battlefield, and together, they surveyed the sheer destruction that Ricky had caused.

"Yeah, well, I didn't even realize they were surrounding me." Ricky admitted, frowning as he wiped the sweat from his brow as he had been so caught up in the heat of battle that he hadn't noticed the encroaching horde until Alexander intervened.

"Thanks for the assist," Ricky said, raising his fist as Alexander bumped it with a chuckle atop Bucephalus head, nodding in acknowledgment.

"Do not simmer your accomplishment, it is normal to be taken by the tides of war, it happens to us all." Alexander stressed, showing that even he too became lost within the endless amount of blood that pooled around them.

"I merely saw them encroaching, steered the legion you handed to me, and put them to good use, but if you had a plan-"

"Nah man, I was just swinging my sh*t around and seeing what stuck, that really just opened up the whole thing." Ricky said, waving his hand at Alexander, who nodded his head while raising his furry chin into the air.

"Well, I am an amazing commander, so I shall take your compliment in stride," Alexander chuckled atop of Bucephalus, laughing at his own joke, nodding to himself as Eldric slowly walked up to Ricky.

"Aye, Eldric, good sh*t." Ricky patted his shoulder, giving him a thumbs up as the old man sternly nodded before gazing directly into his eyes.

"May we take a second of this downtime to survey the surroundings?" Eldric asked, suggesting they halt their advance instead of moving immediately and Ricky, who had momentarily forgotten, nodded in agreement.

Holding up his thumb to all the coven members waiting in the ranks, they surged forward like a Black Friday sale, with that same urgent look on their faces.

Their purpose was clear, as they followed Ricky towards Otherworld for this very reason.

Sitting down on a nearby boulder, Ricky had a sudden thought and pulled up his status screen.

The list of words that defined him appeared, and he scrolled through it, recalling things with increasing ease.

"Holy sh*t, I forgot about this."

While Ricky's mind was churning, the coven moved slowly across the battlefield, walking over the carnage with red-glowing crystals now held in their hands.

These crystals, originally intended for paternity tests, had been reforged by the alchemy section for a much more intense purpose: scanning the dispelled blood of the fallen to match it with the user's current blood.

Each crystal pulsed with energy as they carefully combed through the bloodshed, their search relentless and precise.

A lone witch, around fifty years of age, who had spent her life in the middle ranks of the coven, had joined this crusade with the same hopes as many others: to find her lost family.

She had never expected to find them here, in the wreckage of battle, but the glimmer of hope was too strong to ignore.

Unlike the others, her crystal began to light up slowly, first with a faint hue, shimmering like the first rays of dawn.

The glow grew brighter the closer she got to a particular mound, an unnatural energy emanating from the spot.

The intensity of the light surged, drawing her closer, as if the crystal itself was calling her.

Then, with a sudden flash, the crystal flared to life, its intensity blinding as the energy surged through her as she staggered forward.

A pale expression overtook her face, and her breath came in shallow, frantic gasps.

Her hands shook uncontrollably as they reached out toward the Chimera's corpse, but before she could make contact, her legs gave way beneath her.

She crumpled to the ground, unable to hold herself up any longer, the strength draining from her body entirely.

However, as the witch's gaze locked onto the twisted form of the Chimera, her gaze shifted to one of its limbs.

It was not the grotesque mishmash of beasts she had come to expect, it was human.

A single arm, sown tightly into the body of this abomination as its pale features stuck out amidst the horrid fur.

But it wasn't just any arm.

This arm, with its unmistakable birthmark, held a haunting familiarity.

The witch's breath caught in her throat, her pulse quickening as the memory surged forward.

It was the same arm that had tucked her in as a child, the arm that had held her close in a protective embrace during the dark nights when she sought comfort.

It was the arm of her mother.

The recognition was like a knife in her chest as she had been so young when her mother was taken from her, shoved aside by the very woman who had once cradled her, her mother's last act being to push her into her father's arms before she was yanked away.

And now, staring at that arm, her mother's arm, twisted and corrupted into something monstrous, the memories rushed back in a flood of grief, anger, and confusion.

The witch's body trembled as she reached out, her fingers brushing the cold, lifeless limb, unable to tear herself away from the horror and the truth that lay before her.

Sniff

HIC

The woman's chest tightened with a wrenching pain, the weight of grief crashing down on her.

Tears welled up, spilling down her face as her shaky hands worked to undo the delicate stitches that bound her mother's arm to the monstrous Chimera.

With trembling fingers, she carefully unraveled the thread, her heart pounding as she freed the limb.

Once it was released, she pulled it close, cradling the arm to her chest as if it were the last piece of her mother she could hold onto.

"AHHHHHHHHHHH!" A raw, anguished cry tore from her lips, a sound that seemed to echo across the battlefield.

She clutched the remains of her mother so tightly, as if holding onto the last shred of the love she had once known.

Each sob was a jagged tear, ripping through the seams of her heart at the realization that her mother hadn't been graced with death but had been cursed to be a part of a monster this entire time.

This same action, this same realization, began to spread like a plague through the coven.

It wasn't just one or two coven members, but dozens, who started to break down and it wasn't even all their loved ones they had found, just fragments, pieces scattered among the hundreds of corpses.

Yet, even in these rare moments of reunion, there was no joy to be had, no relief.

The satisfaction of recovering fragments of their past was hollow, overshadowed by the monstrous truth that these loved ones had become part of this horrific, twisted world.

It hurt, not because their family members were dead, not because they held their amputated limbs and body parts in their embraces.

It hurt because they were right.

Sometimes, deep in your mind, you have this nagging feeling that something so outlandish, so unimaginable, just can't be true, that it's impossible.

But when that truth slams into you with an undeniable force, it shatters everything you believed.

And that is the most painful truth of all.

Even when the truth was laid bare before them, even with the Ordo Dracium revealing the full extent of their deeds and their purpose in attacking, a part of them still wished to believe it was all a lie.

Though these witches and warlocks knew they were made of human flesh, fragmented, twisted, they couldn't help but cling to that small shred of hope that it wasn't true, that their family had been spared this horror.

But the truth, as painful as it was, always cuts deeper than any lie.

And as they held their loved ones' severed body parts in their arms, they all understood, without a doubt, that everything they had been told was the cold hard unrelenting truth.

There was no clinging to hope that it could be something different, no imagining some twist or turn.

This was their reality, and it f*cking hurt.

It shattered their hearts, tore at the very core of their souls, knowing that a part of their loved ones, their family, those they had grown up with and poured endless love into, had been living as these monstrous beings all along.

They all began to break down, struggling to cope with this brutal reality.

Yet, ironically, they were the ones who had it easiest compared to the others.

The coven members who suffered the most were those still desperately searching through the mountains of corpses, only to find not a single piece of closure.

This harsh realization drove those who couldn't find their loved ones to desperation, the fear gnawing at them that their families wouldn't find peace today, but instead would continue to suffer tomorrow.

It shattered their sanity, tearing through them all and one such warlock to be consumed by this was Dexter.

"Dammit, dammit, dammit-" Dexter huffed, his arms buried up to the elbows in the flesh of Chimeras as he scavenged through the heaps of corpses, his gaze hollow and unblinking.

"DAMMIT, DAMMIT, DAMMIT-" Dexter roared, his voice echoing the frustration and fury of all those still without closure as they relentlessly combed through the bodies, finding nothing but emptiness.

He scanned through the corpses with brutal efficiency and he was the first to realize that his loved one, his little brother, wasn't among them.

The realization hit him like a punch to the gut as his gaze shifted toward the treeline where they had first emerged from.

Without hesitation, Dexter took a step forward, his mind focused solely on one thing: finding his brother and laying him to rest.

He didn't care for anything else at that moment, nothing mattered but the search.

BAM

Before Dexter could take another step, Eldric tackled him to the ground, his weight forcing Dexter into the dirt.

The older man pinned him down with surprising strength as Dexter fought against him, desperation in his eyes as his nails dug into the dirt.

"Please, PLEASE!" Dexter screamed, his voice cracking with anguish.

His eyes burned with tears, his body shaking, but Eldric stubbornly held him in place, his grip unyielding despite Dexter's frantic struggles.

"Now that's enough, son. That's enough," Eldric muttered, watching as Dexter pounded the dirt beneath him, each hit fueled by raw hatred and desperation.

"LET ME GO, LET ME-"

"If you mindlessly charge into that forest, who's gonna be the one to finally lay your brother to peace, huh? Who's gonna be able to find your brother without your blood, huh?" Eldric asked, his voice low and sharp as he shoved Dexter's head further into the ground, pinning him down as the man's struggles began to slow, his sobs still wracking his body like an anchor.

Dexter's breath came in shallow gasps, his fists clenching the earth, but Eldric's words seeped into his mind, forcing him to stop.

He wept, not from relief, but from the crushing weight of reality, his brother was gone, and no matter how much rage he poured into the earth, it wouldn't bring him back.

HIC

HIC

Dexter sobbed uncontrollably, the image of his little brother torn away from his grasp while he bled out before him, completely helpless as he screamed out towards him for help, replaying over and over in his mind.

That helplessness, that desperation, it was as if the wound was fresh every time he remembered his little brother's cries.

Eldric, too, felt the weight of loss settle on him, and when he realized his daughter wasn't among the bodies, it hit him like a cold wave.

But even still, without hesitation, he tackled Dexter to the ground, using his strength to pin him down, trying to quell the man's frantic desperation before it consumed him entirely.

"It's true-"

Sniff

"It's f*cking true, they were using us for spare parts~" Dexter sniffled, his voice breaking as the harsh reality settled in.

His fist clenched tightly into the dirt below, as if grounding himself against the overwhelming grief that threatened to swallow him whole.

Sniff

"We were used as parts!" Dexter yelled, his voice raw with the anguish of being reduced to nothing more than a tool as his entire being, once full of purpose, now felt hollow.

"All those raids, all those battles meant nothing more than for us to become these monsters!" Dexter bellowed, his fury erupting like a storm, as the weight of the truth shattered him.

"Why couldn't they have just hated us?"

"Why couldn't they have just killed us?"

"Why did they have to turn us into these f*cking monsters?"

"What did we do?

"What did any of them do to deserve this?"

Dexter poured his hate into his questions, his voice mounting once after the other until he couldn't stand it anymore and slipped into a blind rage.

HUFF

HUFF

"WHAT DID THEY DO!" Dexter screamed, grabbing Eldric's collar, shaking him violently as he tried to vent his rage.

"WHAT DID THEY DO, TELL ME!"

"TELL ME ELDER ELDRIC, F*CKING TELL ME-"

"Nothing." Eldric interrupted him, his single word cutting through like a knife, breaking the angry facade Dexter had put up.

The fury draining from him in an instant as that single word just unclogged everything and forced him to crumple to his knees, defeated

His head fell to the ground once again, the weight of everything finally catching up to him.

Slowly, he pressed his forehead against the soft surface of the field, repeating that same word that had started it all, his voice barely a whisper.

"Dammit, dammit, dammit-"

Ricky watched from the sidelines, his own silhouette emerging while watching Dexter's breakdown as he remembered that vision and the sight of his family's graves made his stomach churn.

"You need to get to the Citadel," Ricky said suddenly, turning to Morgana as she sighed slowly, walking over to him and massaging his shoulders.

"Ricky, we must be vigilant, not reckless," Morgana sighed, trying to calm him down and Alexander, too, began looking at the Chimera, as if following Ricky's gaze.

"Merlyn sent these hordes to slow you down-"

"Did he?" Ricky suddenly said, a realization dawning on him as he slowly stood up and walked over to a Chimera corpse, one that was devoid of any human parts.

A sudden, aching premonition swirled in his head as he approached it, drawing runes in the dirt.

The others watched with raised brows, confusion etched across their faces, until Ricky held up his hand, signaling them to stop.

"Get up."

Ding

(Rare Undead) Carrion Chimera: A grotesque fusion of scavenging beasts, the Carrion Chimera is a mindless abomination made from the remains of hyenas, wild dogs, and other carrion feeders, with a thrashing snake tail that drips with necrotic venom. Used as disposable shock troops, these creatures swarm battlefields, snapping at the heels of the living and overwhelming enemies through sheer ferocity. Though weak individually, their pack mentality and unrelenting hunger make them a persistent threat, harassing foes and softening defenses for stronger undead to finish the job.

It was then that Ricky kneeled in front of the undead Chimera under his control, watching as it sat patiently and slowly, he reached down and carefully held another corpse.

The reason for his actions became clear, the reason he sat so quietly at the side for so long, was because of a skill he had long forgotten, one that suddenly resurfaced in his mind.

Flesh Weaving: A twisted reflection of mundane craftsmanship, this skill allows the user to rapidly assemble, repair, or modify objects using basic materials. However, each act of creation or repair draws upon the user's life essence, draining their stamina as the magic demands payment from the very fabric of their being.

The evolution of Quickcraft had morphed into this grotesque skill, one Ricky hadn't expected as his hands began to glow with an eerie light, casting a faint, unnatural aura around them.

The payment was his life essence, but even if he didn't heal instantly, his technical immortality rendered the cost null and void.

No matter how much was drained from him, the cycle always reset, making the price little more than an illusion, a toll that could never truly bankrupt him.

The corpse of a Chimera, similar to the one he had already revived, began to convulse, its limbs twitching and jerking as the energy coursed through it, twisting its form back into motion under Ricky's control.

Crack

Crack

Ricky patiently molded the corpse like clay, his hands moving with focused precision, as the body of the Chimera slowly took shape under his control as the flesh shifted and reformed, guided by his will.

Alexander watched with keen curiosity, his eyes narrowing as he observed the skill on display.

Ricky had received this ability long ago but had never had the opportunity to use it as, weirdly enough, there had simply never been enough fresh flesh lying around to experiment with.

Although it is discriminatory against these witches and warlocks, Ricky had to understand this unique skill as he stood up.

"I don't understand." Ricky muttered, placing the corpse of the Chimera he had turned into wearable armor onto his new undead, frowning as he tried to process it all.

"Me too, how do you mold it in such a way like a blacksmith-" Alexander said in slight awe, weirdly entranced at how Ricky molded the flesh into make-shift armor.

"No, Alexander, that's not what I meant." Ricky interrupted him, standing by the side of the now slightly armored cannon fodder added to his ranks.

"Doesn't this feel weird? Doesn't it feel like he's just gifting it to me?" Ricky said, laughing at how absurd it sounded.

"Pardon?" Alexander raised his eyebrows, needing clarification as Morgana started to laugh.

"Ricky, do not be misconstrued, Merlyn-"

"But it doesn't make any f*cking sense, literally none." Ricky said, gesturing towards the Chimera now under his control.

"Don't you understand it too? Why would he send these to me? Do you really think that smart-ass Merlyn would do it just to slow me down?" Ricky said, his tone laced with disbelief as he glanced back at the newly animated chimera.

Alexander's brows furrowed at the assessment, rubbing his chin as he thought it over.

The more he thought about it, the more tedious and illogical it seemed to waste cannon fodder like this, not just to waste time, but for what purpose?

What was Merlyn even stalling for?

"What if he's intentionally strengthening you?" Alexander suddenly asked, looking up at Ricky as Morgana chuckled softly.

"HA!" Morgana laughed, seeing it as the joke it was but Ricky actually nodded his head.

"No, no, he's right." Ricky pointed at Alexander, pacing around as he shook his head.

"He basically handed me the Ebony Crown and Ebony Shield on a silver platter, sent only four powered guys after me that became my Dullhan, and now he sends me this weak wave of Chimeras that we easily tore through?" Ricky asked, listing off all the things that were supposedly being thrown at him, but in reality, it seemed more like a gift wrapped in a custom bow with a tag from Merlyn himself.

"It doesn't make f*cking sense if it's not that."

"I think Alexander's right. I think he's actually making me more, well, powerful." Ricky said, his voice tinged with disbelief as the absurdity of the idea settled in as he paused, coming to terms with this strange realization.

"When I say it out loud, it sounds f*cking ridiculous, but-" Ricky began, only to trail off as a creeping thought began to permeate the air, forming a question that lingered in their minds.

At what point does your enemy ever actively seek to empower you?

"My father would never do such a thing! HE WOULD NEVER CREATE SUCH HORRID CREATURES!" Lady Roma shouted, her voice sharp and filled with fury as she overheard Ricky's statement.

Asterion, standing nearby, calmly walked beside the floating Chastiefol, which obediently moved toward her in response.

"He's a good man and-"

BAM

Without hesitation, Morgana swung her fist and clocked Lady Roma across the face, sending her crumpling back into her own unconsciousness, knocked out cold once more, and the remaining part of her words lost in the impact.

"Honey, the adults are speaking." Morgana smiled, patting Lady Roma's unconscious cheek mockingly before turning back to the others.

But as she did, her expression slowly shifted, her eyes widening in realization.

Although those two couldn't have known this fact, every year Camelot commemorates Arthur Pendragon's death.

They hold a festival brimming with life, fireworks lighting up the sky as Morgana always watched from Castle Le Fey, like a mere outsider in her own home.

However, there's a myth, a child's story that emerged during the first festival.

It says that if a great threat ever looms over Camelot, during the city's greatest time of need, Arthur Pendragon will return to protect it.

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Morgana suddenly burst into uncontrollable laughter, her voice echoing with madness.

"No, NO!" Morgana sounded almost deranged, unable to believe what she was saying as she laughed hysterically, the glittering fireworks flashing in her mind.

"What? Don't leave us hanging, say it," Ricky said, clearly feeling out of the loop, his curiosity piqued.

Alexander, equally confused, watched Morgana closely as she clamped her mouth shut, shaking her head in disbelief and yet, humored them.

"There is this story, a child's bedtime story concocted to soothe the troubled hearts of the young children, and I came across it when I still had spies in the city," Morgana said, shaking her head and crossing her arms at the stupidity of it.

"But it's just a mere fairy tale to lull children to sleep during the festival." Morgana said, her black hair swaying with the shake of her head.

"..." Ricky and Alexander both looked at each other, then back at Morgana, before scrunching their brows at the same time.

"Don't leave us hanging."

Sigh

"It is nothing really, it tells of Arthur and how he sacrificed his life to save Camelot, giving his life for the great city and infusing his will into it." Morgana continued, her voice tinged with bitterness and slightly mockery.

"And one day, when Camelot needs to call upon him once again, it will be in its greatest time of need against its greatest threat."

"The f*ck?" Ricky frowned, exchanging a confused look with Alexander as Morgana's laughter slowly dwindled since she didn't find the memories coursing through her mind funny anymore.

This was because, at one point in time, Morgana had been considered a threat to Camelot herself.

When Camelot shifted into Otherworld and became situated in the land now called Avalon, she relentlessly attacked Camelot from the land of Gorre for nearly two to three centuries.

Of course, she failed, but in the last battle where she once again didn't succeed, Morgana now realized that Merlin's face wasn't one of rage, but of utter disappointment.

It was as if he wasn't angry that she attacked Camelot, but disappointed that she continued to fail.

Up until this moment, Morgana had believed she had been sealed in Castle Le Fey because she was a threat.

But now, that wasn't the case.

Because if Merlin was purposely strengthening Ricky, could there have been a time when he had been strengthening her too?

Was that why he so readily agreed to teach her in the first place?

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"Am I not a worthy threat?" Morgana suddenly spat out bitterly, her voice sharp with resentment as she glared at the two as her question hung in the air, heavy with unresolved frustration.

"Yeah, that's what I don't get, cause if anyone wants Camelot-" Ricky agreed, scratching his head before Alexander's eyes widened.

"I think that is the point." Alexander realized, looking at Morgana with wide eyes.

"Morgana is not a threat to Camelot, but to Arthur, to Merlyn." Alexander pointed, his voice urgent as Morgana's eyes widened in shock as the realization hit her, her breath catching.

"You never had aspirations of destroying Camelot, but of ruling it." Alexander contieud, piecing his theory together amidst their very eyes.

"You wanted to sit atop its throne. Why would you ever be a threat to it?" Alexander pondered, his voice trailing off as he tried to piece the puzzle together as Ricky frowned, his mind racing to connect the dots.

"So Merlyn basically realized this fact one day-........ and sealed her away in the castle, sh*t." Ricky's words grew quieter the more he spoke, his realization heavy in the air.

Morgana just stared off into the distance, her expression unreadable, while Alexander ducked his head, as if processing the weight of it all.

"Wait, so Merlyn sealed her away not because she was dangerous, but because she wasn't a threat?" Ricky asked, rubbing the back of his head, his voice filled with confusion.

"It appears so." Alexander's eyes softened, closing them as Morgana started to laugh as she shook her head.

"No, that does not make any sense, for I attacked Camelot multiple times-"

"But did you ever wish for its destruction?" Alexander asked the question once more, looking at Morgana who opened her lips and closed it just as fast.

"I mean, yeah, you attacked Camelot not because you hated it, but because you wanted it," Ricky said, driving the thought into her mind as Morgana pressed her fingers to her forehead, her laughter slowly fading as she processed the truth.

Slowly, Morgana grew very, very quiet as the realization, though faint, began to loom over her but that's when Ricky thumped his chest, breaking the silence with his own reasoning.

"But I don't wanna fcking destroy Camelot, I just wanna fck up Merlyn." Ricky said, frowning at this theory as to why Merlyn had gone to such lengths in the first place.

"Yes, yes you do." Alexander muttered, rubbing his chin while pacing around since Ricky made a good point.

From Alexander's perspective, it made sense that he would come here since Ricky's journey had been shaped by his retaliatory nature, with most of the conflicts he found himself in stemming from it.

But what Alexander couldn't yet piece together, despite his many observations, was something that set Merlyn apart from him at this moment.

Whenever Ricky retaliated against anyone, it was true that he never completely destroyed the foundations on which the individuals he went after stood.

He never obliterated their entire existence, not in a way that would cause their systems, their beliefs, or their essence to entirely collapse.

But if you looked deeper, really peered into Ricky's actions, the difference became clear.

Because every time Ricky faced an enemy, be it Xarus, Dracula, or even Dewey, he didn't just kill them.

He dismantled them in a reckless and powerful way.

It took time, yes, but he always did it and in doing so, he never outright destroyed the foundational beliefs or systems those enemies represented, but he shook them to their core.

Xarus didn't just have his rebellion defeated before it could even start, he had his entire foundation, the Jewish mob he had once controlled like puppets, completely unraveled and consumed by Lucky.

Manhattan was completely consumed by the Luciano Family and absorbed into the criminal empire it was building upon today.

With Dracula, it wasn't just the fall of the vampire lord.

It was the disintegration of the faction that had followed him as the structure of the vampire community itself was twisted and reformed.

It wasn't just destruction; it was a transformation.

Ricky had accidentally fractured that entire empire, leaving behind a broken mess that was consumed by Lilith and Veredelt, leaving no space for Dracula's reign to exist as it once had.

And when Ricky went after Dewey, it wasn't simply about taking down a man, it was about cracking the very foundation of the U.S. law and government.

He didn't obliterate it, no.

Ricky cracked it wide open.

Ricky's actions, while seemingly personal, reverberated through the entire system, creating cracks that would be felt for generations.

The ripple effects of his actions created a precedent that would shape civil law for years to come.

Even a hundred years later, his confrontation with Dewey would be used as a key example in any civil case.

Ricky had unknowingly become a part of legal history, a catalyst for change that forced the system to adapt and evolve in response to his mere revenge.

Merlyn was utterly fascinated by this because Ricky wasn't like any other threat.

He didn't just take down a person, a leader, or a faction, he touched and fondled the very essence of what they were, fractured their foundations, and changed the world around them.

And that was a true threat.

It was something Merlyn had been seeking but even then, he wasn't interested in destroying Camelot outright.

What he wanted, what he needed, was someone who could tear it apart, shake it to its core, and perhaps reform it into something else entirely.

Ricky's pattern of targeting individuals, the ones who held power, would eventually, in Merlyn's mind, lead to the same thing: Camelot being transformed under his threat.

It might not crumble in a traditional sense, but its very foundation would be cracked, and the once unshakable kingdom would be vulnerable, unable to remain untouched.

And that was exactly what made Ricky dangerous to Camelot.

Because he didn't just threaten its figures, he threatened everything Camelot stood for.

That was the kind of power Merlyn was drawn to, the kind of power he wanted to mold and shape into his own design.

They didn't understand it, but Merlyn looked through the orb with even more interest as he observed Ricky's ability to manipulate the flesh of the Chimera's, understood this completely.

Of course, Merlyn knew a mere horde wasn't enough, he knew mere cannon fodder wouldn't be enough to stop Ricky because that wasn't the point of it.

He wanted to witness every surprise Ricky could offer, and that's why Merlin hoped to be surprised when Ricky eventually came to Camelot, because, in the end, he didn't care.

It wasn't about victory or defeat anymore, it was about what Ricky could become.

That's why he swiped the view away, shifting his focus to the approaching hordes, the slower, the stronger, more methodical Chimeras stampeding toward the forest.

"Good, this shall be enough cannon fodder for him," Merlin muttered, swiping the view across the orb.

But just before Merlin could further develop Ricky into a more suitable threat, a question formed within the orb, monitoring the three again, as it escaped Alexander's lips.

"You wish to get back at Merlin, I understand that," Alexander said, his gaze steady as he looked at Ricky.

"But what would make you a threat to Camelot? What would push you so far?" Alexander paused, knowing that Ricky wasn't the type to destroy everything in his path out of pride and up until this point, Merlyn hadn't pushed any of his buttons that far.

However, as the question lingered, Merlyn's eyes slowly shifted, narrowing as the cause of it all became clear, the domino that would push Ricky to such hatred as the reflection in his view was undeniable.

When Ricky asked Morgana to check in, her vessel only supervised his family, but the problem was that Ricky's retaliatory mindset didn't just fall under his family.

But friends as well.

At Brooklyn Port,

Chores stood on the cliffside, admiring the view, but his attention was divided.

Instead of simply enjoying the scenery, his eyes kept flicking to his watch, the seconds ticking away with a sense of urgency.

A sudden flash of light cut through the air, drawing his focus as Chores squinted, raising his hand to shield his eyes, as shadowy figures began to emerge in the distance.

The approaching wasn't like the usual ones the coven wore, a detail that immediately set his senses on edge.

His fist clenched instinctively, the weight of his connection to Ricky and the figures that often followed him tightening in his chest.

But as the figure moved closer, Chores' grip slowly loosened, his gaze softening as he recognized who was approaching.

"Samuel?"