The Harvester

Chapter 119: Star Puppetry

“{What are you planning?}” Higure asked as she watched Rakna molding a chunk of cold energy as if he was working on tangible clay.

“This,” he replied curtly and pinched the two sides of the energy before pulling. In the blink of an eye, the energy let out a very harmless sound, a literal ‘poof’, before the lioness could lay her eyes on what it had become.

“{Is this…?}”

“Yes; your new body,” Rakna said blankly while holding a very small carbon copy of Higure’s body. He mentally commanded the small creation and it bounced off his hand to land on his head. At the same time, a new spell was immediately added to his repertory.

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❮ ◈ ❯

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You have learned a new spell!

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—

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Star Puppetry (T.10 – 1): The ability to create magic puppets and familiars. Their appearance and size are defined by the caster without limitations other than mana expenditure.

Each familiar can be given sentiency if the user is proficient enough with mind magic or soul power. Additionally, sharing senses with said familiar is also possible.

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Cost: Variable. An unremitting flow of mana will be required to retain the puppet manifested.

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❮ ◈ ❯

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“{…are you really that cheap, devourer of mine?}” Higure deadpanned as she stared at the mini lion no bigger than a plushie.

“Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth,” Rakna retorted and opened his palm again, prompting the small lion to jump on it. “Now, just try it. Size shouldn’t matter for now anyway. It would take too much mana for nothing.”

The lioness sighed. “{Fine…}” She relented and extended her immaterial paw. She placed it inside the star puppet and she was rapidly sucked in. Right after, the puppet darkened and began to turn into a realistic version of a Dusk Lion. Then, its eyes opened and radiated a crimson light.

“Ah. Oh. Eh. Test.” Higure spoke with a slightly higher pitched tone and nodded. “I can produce sounds with this body,” she commented and hopped on Rakna’s palm as she tried to understand the full capabilities of her new vessel.

“How is it?”

“Well, it’s quite interesting,” she responded and turned around to look at Rakna in the eyes. “This body seems sturdy enough and it responds like a normal one. The only complaint I would have is that I seem to not have a sense of smell or taste…”

“Hm, I see. I don’t think I can do much in that regard…” Rakna muttered and winced as the cries of Rexam and Fenriu echoed loudly inside his head. “Settle down! I haven’t forgotten about you two…” He grumbled and let Higure lie down on his head as he created two more puppets; the miniature versions of a Luquila and a Nine-Tailed Wolf.

He implanted the two legendary beasts’ souls inside of them without wasting time manifesting them as ghosts and the puppets underwent the same transformation as Higure. Shortly afterward, Rexam chirped and flapped his three pairs of wings as he took off while Fenriu stretched his legs and started running around.

Rexam quickly found himself partaking in the shenanigans of Tyran and Pronos while Fenriu was more intent on relaxing in a physical body while he could.

“You have a zoo forming around you,” Higure snorted. “Three of which are legendary class. Though you could argue Rexam is more of a… primordial class. A species long-forgotten to the living.”

“If you say so,” Rakna shrugged. “By the way, can you use magic with that body?”

“Let me see…” She muttered and lifted her paw. A few seconds later, a tiny sphere of cold energy whirled into existence in front of her. “It seems that I can. However, not only do we share mana pools but my element has also become the same as yours. The Shadow, Ruin, and Echo Magic I possessed in life are unreachable to me.”

“That’s unfortunate. Those sound useful.”

“That would be an understatement,” she snickered. “Shadow aside, Ruin and Echo saved me from many perilous situations. Well, I guess we’ll have to make do with what we have. However, I feel like it won’t be the case forever.”

“What do you mean?”

“I said that they were ‘unreachable’, not inexistent. I’m but a mere a fragment of what I was in the past but I am nonetheless one. I can sense my elements inside me; somewhere. But for the sake of me, I’m incapable of using them. I can only infer that your soul power is still not strong enough to restore my prime.”

“Then I suppose I’ll have to try harder,” Rakna said and sighed before taking a meditative posture and closing his eyes.

“Hm? Are you going to use Soul Breath?” Higure inquired as she looked down at him.

“Obviously. I haven’t slept in more than twenty-four hours.”

“Yes… but, are you going to let us roam free? How much mana does it take you to maintain us materialized?”

“As long as I keep you small like that, barely 1 MP per minute for each of you. Currently, my rate of regeneration is 3.91. At half-rate, due to my crippled state, it’s around 1.95 right now.”

“Then-“

“But I have Soul Breath at level 8,” he interrupted her. “Which means when I meditate, that rate is increased by 90%.”

“Ah, I see. In that case, it’s back to 3.7,” Higure nodded in understanding. “Well, if you allow us this little freedom, I can only thank you.”

“Of course. Now go play with the kids,” Rakna jested and she chuckled.

“Have a good rest, devourer.”

“Sure,” he replied and channeled his soul power before entering deep meditation.

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* * *

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When Rakna learned Soul Breath, he had thought that his nightmares wouldn’t be a problem anymore. He was right. What he did not expect, however, was when he suddenly found himself standing in a dark room.

He immediately recognized where he was. The smell of dried blood and the insufferable layers of dust scattered in the air. But most importantly, there was a child marred in red tied to a steel pole with a lifeless look on his face.

‘That’s… me,’ he thought, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. That’s when he heard a door being opened and a ray of light illuminated this basement. He looked at the source and began to hear footsteps.

“The boss is seriously a psycho,” one voice grunted. “The freak gets off from torturing this kid; he doesn’t even respond to anything anymore. He’s like a doll of flesh at this point.”

“Who fuckin’ cares. He’s gonna kill him soon anyway,” another male voice responded and the child’s hands contracted at his words but soon returned to a relaxed state. “We’ve been in this town for too long and we’re not sure if that stupid bomb even exists,” he added and the two men came inside the room.

They flicked the lights on and Rakna audibly growled but no one heard him. He was being made to watch a memory from a third perspective. They couldn’t see or hear him at all. It wasn’t real and he wasn’t truly there, but the faces of those two men had made him want to rip their throat and eat them limb by limb.

They hadn’t been the worst during his time as a prisoner. No, the worst had been their demented leader who tormented him for his sick pleasure. But these two had been his torturers at first when it could still actually be called ‘questioning’.

“I heard an old man is snooping looking for us too,” one of them said as he walked to the bound child. “It’s not safe here anymore. Heard that, kid?” He sneered. “You might get the sweet release of death today. Isn’t that awesome?” He uttered and unlocked the handcuffs keeping the child’s hands behind the pole before putting them back afterward once his arms were free.

Then, he undid the rope tying him and roughly pulled his arm. The young Rakna couldn’t resist and was briefly forced to stand before falling on the ground powerlessly.

“Tch, get up!” The man yelled and once again yanked his arm and borderline dragged him on the floor as they began to leave the room.

Rakna observed everything with an impassive mood. He knew what was going to happen. This was the memory that burned the strongest in his mind. The one that he would and could never forget. For that was…

“…n…n….” The child whispered and it seemed to reach the man’s ears as he stopped walking and glanced at him. This was the first time he had heard the kid speak in at least a week.

“You have something to say?”

“…no…”

“No? The fuck do you want then?”

“Hey, Mehd! What are you waiting for?!” The other man, who had left ahead, shouted from the top of the stairs that led to the ground floor of the building they were hiding in.

“I’m coming! The brat was being weird!” Mehd replied and turned his head while doing so. That was what signed his fate. The bloodied and scarred child’s eyes suddenly gained a drive and with newfound vitality, his hand reached for the military knife sheathed at the man’s belt.

“YOU-!” He snapped his head back but he couldn’t react in time as the child jumped on him and stabbed the knife through his throat from a low angle. A jet of blood spurted out and covered the boy who had now a maniacal grin on his face.

“No… that’s not awesome…” He muttered eccentrically. “This is.”

The man heard his words but couldn’t even start interpreting them as he choked on his blood before the blade was thrust even further until it penetrated his brain. His corpse collapsed on the floor spraying blood all along.

“Mehd?!” The other voice called and the sound of his footsteps followed. They sounded rushed; he seemed to be hastily making his way back. When he returned to the room, he froze on the spot.

The last thing he saw was the child’s grin and the barrel of his comrade’s gun pointed at him. As for the last thing he heard; it was none other than the detonation of the bullet’s powder.

Rakna watched the man fall forward with several bullet holes on his face. One had directly hit his eye and exited through the other side. One had found itself in the middle of his forehead. Another had pierced one of his cheeks and bounced off in his mouth before coming out of his neck.

But the child continued to grin, his eyes showing no sign of him even acknowledging the gruesome scene he had caused. Naturally, the gunshot was heard by the rest of Flood’s members occupying the building and it could easily be discerned from the incessant noises and the voices coming from above.

However, the child, unfeeling and unbothered, walked over the two corpses, the handgun firmly held in his cuffed hands, and unhesitatingly headed for the exit.

Rakna watched him… himself gradually leave his sight. He didn’t need to follow to know what was going to happen. His past self would climb the stairs, fire on everything that moved until he had no ammo left, bringing down three more of them. He would then be stopped after losing the element of surprise and violently kicked against the wall.

He would then be saved from certain death by an old man barging in through the entrance and crushing the skull of one of the terrorists barehanded.

‘Yes… unforgettable,’ Rakna thought as he heard the gunshots from upstairs. ‘This is the day I met the old man… and the day I killed for the first time.’