The hum grew louder the farther they went.
It was not sound in the usual sense. There was no echo, no direction to it. It pressed against the inside of Myrhhl's skull, a steady vibration that made his teeth ache and his thoughts feel slightly out of sync, as if his mind were half a step behind his body.
He had felt something like this once before, years ago, when he hunted the Mentalist beast. That pressure had clawed at his thoughts, tried to fracture his mind, this was different, this was heavier. Luckily he had help then, just like now or it would've been impossible in both situations.
The piles of Forsaken grew denser as they moved deeper. Some were large enough to require four or five bodies to drag together. Others were smaller, almost delicate, their leathery hides unbroken, their stingers curled inward as if they had simply gone to sleep and never woken up.
None of them smelled fresh.
"How long have they been dead?" she whispered.
Myrhhl crouched beside one of the bodies, careful not to touch it. "Not long. A day, maybe two. The heat would have rotted them faster otherwise."
"And no wounds," she murmured. "No burns. No crushing. Nothing."
"No, which means it was far ahead of their pay grade," he said.
She glanced at him while pondering aloud, "Why would it go through the trouble of eating so many Forsaken weaker than it, i thought they were all crazy."
"I'm not sure," he said lost in thought.
"Well, we won't figure out anything standing here. Let's head inside," he added standing up.
"Um. Are you sure about that, kid?" She turned toward him, concern slipping through her usual composure. "I'm flattered that you're putting such confidence in my abilities but a Mage beast that can send so many Mutant beasts packing and kill even more is out of my league," she informed him.
"Heh. I don't doubt that," he said lightly. "I just want as much information as possible before making a decision."
He continued deeper into the cave without waiting for her response.
She let out a long, weary sigh, following him as he stepped over a pile of dead stingers. "Why did i get saved by someone like him,"
Mage beasts and certain Mentalist beasts were creatures not completely beholden to a single physical body, they could, when they felt it appropriate decide to leave their physical body and take another they felt was more suited to them.
However, if the body they occupied was destroyed, they would gradually perish with it. And though Mage beasts fed on spirit, they still usually relied on physical forms to wound, kill, and subdue prey before feasting on the soul.
Rarely would they make use of their spiritual body for such a task.
Therefore, the existence of a Mage beast that would do all of that damage without a physical body implied something was strange concerning it.
Despite the both of them lacking any sensory methods they searched the cave quite thoroughly, which was easy without any other living being in it.
Everything had been driven away, leaving an eerie void that amplified every footstep and breath.
Eventually, they reached a chamber deeper than the rest.
The hum changed.
It softened.
The pressure eased just slightly, enough that Myrhhl noticed the sudden absence more than the presence itself. The chamber was wide, its ceiling lost in shadow. The stone walls here were smoother, almost polished, etched with faint spiral grooves that pulsed weakly with residual energy.
At the center lay something large.
"That's...the Mage beast," she whispered as he lay eyes on it.
In the center of the chamber sat a creature that looked like a gargantuan, translucent moth, its wings folded tightly around a bloated, pulsing abdomen. It was beautiful and horrific all at once, its skin shimmering with an iridescent, oily sheen.
But it wasn't moving. It didn't even seem to be breathing.
"It's empty," she whispered, her crystalline sword beginning to glow with a sharp, defensive light. "That's just the vessel. The spirit... it's out there, hunting."
Myrhhl's eyes didn't go to the creature's face, but to the area beneath its folded wings. Tucked against the creature's belly were three large, glowing eggs. They pulsed with a soft, rhythmic light that matched the hum in the room.
"It isn't hunting for food," Myrhhl realized. "It's birthing. It drove the colony away to clear a safe zone, and it killed the rest to create a buffet of souls for the offspring to feed on the moment they hatch."
The hum swelled again, this time sharper, coiling around their senses like a warning. Myrhhl's vision swam briefly as something brushed against his spirit.
Offspring.
Mage beasts did not reproduce often. But it appeared when they did, they were vulnerable.
"So it hunted without a body," she said softly, piecing it together. "Left its vessel behind."
"To protect them," Myrhhl finished.
"Well, now I feel bad," she remarked, though her tone held a edge of dark humor.
Pointing her blade at the mother's body she spoke. "It's vulnerable. If its spirit is away, guarding the perimeter or gathering more feed, we can end this right now."
"Yeah, sure," Myrhhl countered, "but can we survive its spirit's retaliation long enough for the body to die?"
"That... I'm not so sure about," she admitted.
"What if you broke one of the eggs, would that work for the ascension?"
"I don't know, and I'm not eager to find out. I'd rather kill the mother than deal with a grieving spirit."
Myrhhl stared at the iridescent eggs, the "Privilege" required a kill but it didn't specify how it should be done, it merely had to be done in by his own hand.
However, a Mage Beast's spirit was its true weapon, even if they destroyed the body, the spirit might linger long enough to kill the both of them and then take one of their bodies as it's new vessel, in that case he would not only fail to kill it but also be responsible for the creature living on after his death.
"The eggs are it's anchor," Myrhhl whispered, a plan forming. "The mother is out there, but she's tethered here by the need to feed her young. If we kill the vessel, the spirit loses its home. In any other scenario it would prioritize finding a new body first but since the eggs are here..."
Explaining his plan slowly, Myrhhl tightened his grip on his spear, his heart pounding with resolve.
"Get ready," he said bringing out his spear.
She nodded, stepping between him and the entrance her sword appearing in her hand in a coalescence of sparks.
Stepping up to the body of the grotesque moth he brought his spear towards the compound eyes of the moth as different thoughts went through his head, thoughts of waiting for it to come back and observe it, thoughts of making a trap or strategy that would better guarantee success or at least survival.
But he threw those thoughts away for one simple reason, he had waited long enough.
With a lunge he drove the spear through the eye of the moth. It's body convulsing involuntarily, bracing himself he forced the weapon deeper until it struck something solid.
Green fluid spilled across the stone as the body slumped, lifeless.
The silence that followed lasted only a second.
Because the next sound drowned out everything else.
KREEEEAAAH!—
It was coming.