The commander and her five subordinates soon reach the clearing. Once they're finally in range for some surveillance spells, the group's scout taps a part of their helmet. A slowly turning magic circle appears in front of everyone, projecting an enhanced view of the glade. They all stop in their tracks once they realize what actually dwells on the clearing.
"A shapeshifter?!" someone blurts, albeit with enough awareness to keep it a whisper.
"No doubt.", another one responds. "It must be unconscious, otherwise it wouldn't be gray like that. That's our chance."
The commander's mind races, trying to make sense of the situation. Was the creature summoned? She always assumed shapeshifters to be an extinct species. Thorough purges happened, after whole towns turned out to be populated by those creatures, the original townsfolk long dead. Some of the pests tried to escape their death by pretending to purge other shapeshifters, in a few cases even mimicking whole squads of soldiers to do so.
Then she notices the distortions in the air. Her eyes narrow in recognition. This is the side-effect of dense mana streams. The distortions form a trail to the crow flying circles above the shapeshifter.
"Is that perhaps mind control? Although, the arcane circles down there seem out of place for that, no?", she asks the group.
One spellcaster squints his eyes, working his memory. "Strange. I believe, we used similar magic circles to refill the mana supply of our capital's defense system... Those circles only enhance already existing mana circuitry, so what's the idea behind using it on a shapeshifter with barely any of it?"
The commander takes a closer look at the gray puddle on the clearing. Her eyes widen at the sight of the minute distortions on the shapeshifters surface. "Look closely! That shapeshifter has mana-circuitry for some bloody reason! What else could it be, but an ascension ritual in its late stage!"
She draws her sword and breaks into a run. "Time is running out! Some maniacs are trying to ascend a sodding shapeshifter!" The other five follow promptly, firing message spells to the rest of the unit positioned around the clearing.
As they swiftly pass the trees towards the glade, the commander tries to guess which faction would gain anything from the ritual. Ascending a creature makes it practically a demigod and doing so with a shapeshifter? These creatures hunt without thought. Who would profit from such havoc? And, by the gods, how did they retrieve a live specimen?
"Ma'am!" one of the five elites shouts, just in time for the commander to barely dodge a very familiar crow.
Said hostile bird engages again immediately, casting Iceblade Storm. Falling branches, flying wood chips and shrubbery obfuscate the view as the cold blades shred the environment.
This time, the crow was not that lucky though. The well trained team counters quickly. Alter Gravity and Blindness strike the crow and it tumbles to the ground.
Seeing her group handle the bird better than last time, the commander dashes off to the glade. "Keep the crow occupied, we have no time to lose!" Her steps quicken, as she activates her own enhancements.
The commander catapults herself onto the glade, targeting the shapeshifter. Still airborne, she applies several elemental effects on her sword. Using her weight and inertia from the jump, she rams her now burning blade through the gray, living mass that is shaped like a head and torso. An inhuman screech escapes the shifter, loud enough to be noticed even miles away.
"Shit. Your a feisty one, aren't you?" the commander remarks. It hasn't died from her strongest Purging Strike, which mea-
"Wha... What is ha...?", comes the response from the violently twitching shapeshifter itself.
The commander's hair stands on end. The creature survived her execution. Not only does the shapeshifter possess an unbelievable mana-flow, it speaks her language too. The perfect infiltrator under the control of an unknown faction, ascending in the middle of a forest adjacent to the Imperium.
Another presence from above approaches rapidly. "Stop right there!" The crow, which was infusing mana into the shapeshifter seconds ago, is now attempting to dive-bomb her. Dozens of arcane formulas swirl around it.
Keeping one hand on her sword, the commander just grabs the bird out of the air, breaking its protective magic with a single, strong grasp.
"H-How...", the crow croaks.
She completely tanks the powerful arcane forces that the crow summoned when it soared down here. Her resolve pierces through the pain she feels as the countless offensive spells try to deteriorate her body and armor. The downward gust from the bird's fast decline and magic passes a few seconds later. The clearing's grass rustles violently, as the forceful wind disperses.
Her armor might be completely charred, but she's still standing. "Announcing your arrival will cost your life, bird.", the commander says through clenched teeth. She slowly tightens the grip on the bird. "Ascending a species that killed countless innocent? Is this fun to you? Do you not think about what you might cause?" Her increasingly strong grasp is too much for the crow. Its bones crack one after another in rapid succession, the lungs too squashed to cry out in pain.
She discards the limp bird.
Into the clearing soars another black ball of feathers, crash-landing in the grass. A chain of its swear words accompanies the fall, as it rolls in pain from the radiant arrows piercing its chest.
The commander twists her sword, further restraining the shapeshifter's movement and casts the highest rank of Slow, that she can muster on the gray monster. "That's the end for you, shapeshifter. I might not be able to kill you in your elevated state, but surely the gods can. I hope they choose a completely lifeless place for you. No children for breakfast, no dogs for lunch and no nans for dinner!"
She looks up to the sky. Forty-four golden orbs of light rise from all directions out of the forest and meet right above the clearing, hundreds of yards in the air. Once all lights reach that central point in the sky, they vanish.
Moments later, a roaring beam of holy fire spawns on top of August, Karl, Fylka and the heavily armored pursuer, covering the whole glade. The unit of now forty-nine imperial elites watch the gigantic pillar of light pierce the sky. They salute in respect of the commanders' selfless act to prevent a supposed, terrifying ascension.
Half a minute passes, before the light of the collectively cast Banishment disappears, leaving only a deep, obsidian crater behind. As the sun sets, one can make out the faint sound of galloping horses somewhere in the distance.
YOU ARE READING
Shapeless Hero
FantasyIdentity crisis? What's that? ---- An earthling's soul was born into an incompatible, human body. Their muscles misbehaved, their skin and body felt like a rigid shell, and their weak constitution left little options for any activities outside of...
