I killed, and killed, and killed. Yet the bodies never piled up.
In fact, even the corpses Kaela and I took down earlier have disappeared.
Well, disappeared wouldn't be entirely accurate - they'd been absorbed.
After fusing all of their weapons and flesh into mine, my human appearance had morphed into something else entirely.
Ny now, I towered above the battlefield, having assumed a form of an apex predator. Spikes, serrated blades, teeth, and eyes were embedded into my many limbs, all moving sporadically and is possessing lives of their own.
The plethora of stolen eyes tracked my prey from every angle, and a massive tail dragged behind me, leaving a deep groove in its wake.
Something flew my way - a spear hurled like a javelin at my head - but was caught midair by a clump of fleshy, spiny tentacles that sprouted out from my back.
The next moment, the one responsible for the throw fell over with a gaping hole through his chest, spear embedded deep into the ground behind him.
I got down on all fours, but my height still put even orcs' to shame.
*Groooowl!!*
After a distorted bestial roar, I condensed every tentacle of flesh and bone on itself, building pressure, until-
*Boom!!*
They shot out like a whip, so rapid that an explosion of wind ravaged the foliage beneath.
Dozens of lives were reaped on the spot as the gargantuan whip flew through the air in a horizontal arc; the warriors exploded in a mist of blood and dismembered limbs.
"Ahahahahaha!!!"
I laughed in exhilaration, feeling their painstakingly accumulated essence flow into me.
Even such a simple gesture caused the death of many; my booming voice ruptured their ear drums, and some vomited blood.
With a stomp, my clawed arm dug into the dry earth - flesh snaked down, worming its way deep inside.
The world rumbled, and then…
*Fwoosh*
Tentacles burst out, tightly wrapping around the men whose spirits had long since broken.
Suddenly, the tentacles retracted with a forceful tug of my arm.
I raised a gigantic sphere of corpses high above me, before unfurling it into thousands upon thousands of treads.
The meaty vines danced chaotically as they wove into my already enormous frame, but I wasn't satisfied with just that.
I want more. This isn't enough. Nowhere near enough…
With those thoughts, the multitude of eyes embedded in my body started frantically darting from place to place, in search of the next target.
But none were left.
No, no, no, what the hell?! Food. I need food. Somebody, anybody… Feed me.
My hunger couldn't possibly be quenched by these few pathetic worms.
I howled out in despair, the bottomless pit in within my stomach tearing at my soul.
Wishes… Were a funny thing. It seemed like the world never failed to fulfill them, though never in the way I hoped.
And, if to prove that very thought, something incomprehensible came into my vision.
A meteor. Or perhaps a gigantic ball of flames.
With an ear-piercer crash, the entity landed before me, leaving a deep crater behind.
Once the dust cleared, I could finally make out its shape - a human.
This tiny squib is the one emitting all this energy? Heh, heheh. Perfect. My meal's here.
Overjoyed at the prospect of filling even a fraction of my stomach with the human's overflowing essense, I crouched down, ready to lunge at him.
But instead…
*Boom*
*Crash!!*
The world flipped.
My gigantic, bestial body was flung into the air, as if the condensed weight of several hundred men meant nothing to him.
And all of that, from a single punch.
A being of such meager birth dares referee with my feast? Unacceptable.
If a meal served on a silver platter puts up a bit of resistance - I shall simply crush it to paste, as I always do.
Everything on this planet exists solely to feed me, after all; this fucker will be no exception.
***
The King of Nether.
It was a heavy title, yet one this man perfectly encapsulated.
His senses spread far and wide, even though he was nowhere near the battlefield.
It was no wonder, then, that he easily grasped the state of the fight between his men and the Royal Detention escapees long before actually seeing it in person.
Initially, Nether's forces held their ground; at some point, however, one of the two prisoners fled.
What followed defied logic:
His men's numbers dwindled explosively, the distant flickers of their essence extinguishing without pause.
However, their essence never dissipated into the atmosphere. No, it all coalesced around a single point.
What started out as barely a speck of power had grown to become something monstrous.
The king, of course, quickly realized what was going on.
It's stealing their essence… An inhuman feat.
If people possessed the capacity take other's essence for themselves, humanity would have gotten itself wiped out through infights caused by power hungry maniacs.
Throughout history, there had only ever been one group to defy this irrefutable law set by the Primordial Incarnations.
A species whose existence itself was a threat to mankind, and one that had been eradicated on the King's own orders.
That explains how Malrik succumbed to demonic corruption; messing with a Threadripper could only ever lead to catastrophe.
Case it point - the atrocious bloodbath.
Still, something just didn't make sense, no matter which way he spun it:
I'd personally fought many a Threadripper during the execution operation, so I can say this with utter certainty - they physically cannot absorb such ridiculous quantities of energy. Not without adverse side effects.
The king and his men managed to capture several alive, and had performed countless experiments to shine a light on their inner workings.
One particular test involved force-feeding the Threadrippers dozens of living martial artists back to back.
But every experiment ended one way; unable to digest the influx of essence, their bodies would grotesquely swell before exploding in a rain of blood.
Which only meant one thing.
We have a special case on our hands. A unique being amongst a unique race, capable of near limitless growth.
By now, the king was no longer accompanied by the warrior, with the need for directions all but gone.
But despite having nobody to slow him down, his steps were not enhanced beyond human limits.
Even I can't be reckless before an enemy of this level. Conserving essence will be imperative for a decisive victory. It is unfortunate that so many capable warriors have to die, but we could always train more; a necessary sacrifice.
The closer he approached, the clearer his opponent's true caliber became.
It was not the level of destruction a bout between regular fighters could cause - if anything, an earthquake's aftermath would've been more believable.
Eventually, the king had finished scaling the volcanic mountains obstructing his view and perched atop a tall, naturally formed spire.
None of his warriors were alive by then, their power siphoned by a single entity.
He gazed down, at the wide and desolate battlefield beneath him; it didn't take long to spot the Threadripper, his incomprehensibly massive stature dwarfing even the largest demonic beasts known as 'Titans'.
If those demons are considered 'Titans', then what the hell am I looking at now?
"Ori… You are special. Much more special than I thought, even. When I learned you were supposedly a child, and one whose background was classified to the highest degree at that, I knew I would have to stretch these old bones once more. But this is far beyond my wildest expectation. So be proud, Threadripper - for you shall be the first to face my full strength in decades…"
Though he directed those words toward Ori, they were never meant to reach his ears. The howling winds quickly scattered the king's voice into thin air.
With nothing more to be said, he looked down for the last time… And unleashed all of his strength.
The air turned red, and the volcanic rock beneath his feet was instantly brought to a boil.
*Heup*
With a sharp exhale, he slammed his foot into the molten rock, launching his body, encompassed in raging flames, into the sky.
Like a comet, he plummeted to the ground, landing in an earth shattering explosion.
Finally, he stood face to face with the grotesque creature, not a hint of human reflecting off of its many eyes.
Up close, the Threadripper's true size was even more absurd.
It was as if he were facing a mountain.
Of course, the king didn't waste any time admiring his opponent - in a fight of this caliber, such a move could very well cost him his life.
He leaped into the air, propelled by a roaring jet of flames, until he was within arm's reach of the fleshy mountain that was Ori; the next moment, his foot connected with its head.
*Boom!!*
Against all sense of reason, the seemingly insurmountable Threadripper was tossed into the air.
After tumbling across the ravaged ground, it finally halted to a stop, however king felt no joy at successfully landing an attack.
Damn monster… I didn't hold back at all, but it's nearly unharmed.
Realizing that regular attacks wouldn't lead anywhere, the king concentrated an amount of essence most would never see in their lifetimes within the palm of his hand; a small, white bead of pure heat formed.
The air surrounding the Fire Pearl distorted, threatening to blow the world apart at the slightest loss of control.
But, right as he firmly planted a foot behind himself and got into position to hurl the sphere, the Threadripper suddenly opened its mouth.
"What. Are. You… Tiny Squib?"
Its disjointed voice resembled a choir of wailing demons, grating on the king's ears.
"How strange. I thought you knew who you were dealing with, Ori. Or am I wrong?"
The king responded without letting his guard down, fully expecting to get backstabbed the moment his focus wavered.
But the attack never came. It seemed interested in continuing their dialogue.
Perhaps it's simply afraid of my attack and is stalling for time?
"You are… Mistaken. Human… I am. Not. Ori…"
The king's brows furrowed at the unwelcome compliment, but more than that, he grew confused by the Threadripper's strange claim.
"Are you saying that's not your actual name?"
"No. Ori. Is… The host. My… Fragile Vessel."
Those words struck him like a hammer.
For what felt like the first time in an age, his mouth fell open in shock.
Such abstract statements - vessel, host - would hold little meaning to an average person. But the king, as it happened, was far from fitting the description of 'average'.
He quickly regained his composure though, deciding not to jump to hasty conclusions.
In the back of him mind, however, a horrifying thought had already sprouted.
"Ori is your host's name, you say? In that case, how about a formal introduction before the final confrontation? Am I called Vaynar… Vaynar Nether, The Lord of Flames."
At Vaynar's introduction, the Threadripper let out low snicker laced with mockery.
"Big. Name. For tiny. Creature. But fitting… I will. Tell you… Strong Human…"
The king held his breath in tense anticipation.
"I am. Hunger…"
"?!!"
did I mishear..?
There was only one being in the world that dared lay claim such a title.
One of the three Primal Incarnations that once ruled the world, and the fundamental source of a power mortals learned to wield through their sacrifice, now know simply as 'Essence'.
That can't be… Yes, I need to hear its full name before I can be certain. Please, let it be a mistake-
"I am. Voracity… Hunger Incarnate…"
"…"
As if to shatter any remaining hopes of a mere misunderstanding, it screeched out that name, which Vaynar so dreaded to hear.
He was shaken to the core.