Page 90 of Lord of the Lone Wolf
Its skull elongated with sickening cracks and pops, the jaw extending to accommodate rows of new fangs that gleamed with the trapped light of consumed souls. Most horrifying was the change to its wings. The tattered membranes filled in with a substance resembling rotting flesh, veined with glowing channels where the stolen souls raced through its body like luminous blood.
Its chest cavity pulsed with an unnatural rhythm, no longer containing one tormented soul but hundreds. The mass of trapped spirits writhed within the creature’s bones, their combined anguish creating a black-green glow that pulsed like a diseased heart, sending corruption seeping through every fiber of the creature’s being.
A sound emanated from the beast as hundreds of voices cried out in eternal torment.
Soulvore.
The word surfaced from the depths of Kitsuki’s memory, drawn from ancient texts he had studied centuries ago. Whispered legends from the darkest days of the Necromancer War spoke of necrowings that gained terrible sentience by consuming not only their own souls but hundreds of others, transforming into something far more horrific. They were creatures whose consumed souls could never return to the Beyond Realm, forever trapped in undeath, their essence feeding the abomination’s power.
Before his eyes, the transformation accelerated. Bone and tissue fused in a grotesque amalgamation that defied the laws of nature.
But the horror didn’t stop there. The vertebrae of its neck began to split and multiply, dividing into three separate spinal columns that erupted from its shoulders. At the end of each new column, additional skull matter coalesced from the darkness itself, forming two more heads that flanked the original.
Each face was terrifying. The left bore multiple gnashing jawbones that chattered with the voices of consumed souls. The right sported horns that grew inward rather than outward, piercing through the bone in a crown of self-mutilation that wept black ichor.
Additional limbs erupted from its torso, not mere appendages but weaponized growths that defied natural anatomy. Six massive scythe-blades of blackened bone burst through its corrupted flesh, each longer than a dragon’s tail and edged with crystallized necromantic energy that hummed with deadly resonance. The blades flexed and rotated with impossible dexterity, as if each possessed its own malevolent consciousness. From its edges dripped the same ooze from every joint of its body, each droplet floating upward against gravity before dissipating into oily smoke.
The eye sockets of all three heads deepened into abyssal pits; the green flames were extinguished and replaced by black fire, drawing light and warmth from the surrounding air. When the central head opened its mouth, it revealed not a throat but a spiraling tunnel lined with counter-rotating rings of serrated fangs, stretching into what appeared to be infinite darkness.
With the transformation complete, the soulvore hung motionless for a terrible moment. Then all three heads moved in perfect unison, regarding Kitsuki with an intelligence that no undead creature should possess. It was no longer a puppet animated by necromantic energy but a predator that had sacrificed its chance at eternal peace for immense power.
The soulvore raised a claw, now transformed into a gauntlet of overlapping bone plates, with fingers that ended in foot-long talons of crystallized darkness, and made a beckoning gesture.
Air tore between them, as if reality itself split to reveal a glimpse of an abyss. Black energy emerged from the void, shooting toward Kitsuki with unnatural speed.
Kitsuki twisted, his instincts saving him as they passed through the space he had occupied a heartbeat before. Where they touched a passing cloud, the vapor didn’t dissipate but ceased to exist, leaving perfect cylindrical holes through the mist as if those portions of reality had been surgically removed.
The soulvore attacked again as the central head opened its infinite maw, pouring forth not fire but a concentrated beam of anti-light so dense it bent the surrounding air. Its left head spewed a torrent of sharpened fangs, each propelled as a projectile. The right head’s horns detached, revealing themselves as barbed harpoons connected to the skull by chains of animated vertebrae.
Kitsuki folded his wings and dropped, the lethal energy passing overhead with a sound like reality screaming. The projectiles followed his descent, adjusting their trajectory with unnatural precision. He twisted in midair, his tail lashing out to deflect the nearest teeth while his ice magic formed a barrier against the rest. The harpoon-horns circled wide, attempting to flank him.
Where the anti-light beam struck a distant mountain peak, the stone didn’t melt or shatter but vanished, leaving a perfect concave depression as if that portion had never existed.
Dread settled in Kitsuki’s heart. For the first time, he faced an enemy that might be beyond his power to defeat. The soulvore wielded powers that defied the natural laws of magic, drawing on the forbidden energies from the void between life and death. A direct confrontation would be suicide.
The creature’s three heads swiveled to track Kitsuki’s movements while its body remained stationary. Six bone-scythes whirled in a deadly dance around it, each strike rending the very fabric of reality. From those wounds spilled different manifestations of necromantic power. One released living shadows, another unleashed ghostly flames that decayed everything they touched, and a third exhaled fragments of shattered souls that screamed with voices from the Beyond Realm.
Attacks converged from multiple angles, forcing Kitsuki into a series of desperate evasive maneuvers. A bone-scythe caught him across his hindquarters, the crystallized edge slicing through scales that had repelled dragon fire and steel alike. Pain exploded along his flank, both physical and spiritual, as the necromantic energy corrupted the wound, preventing his natural healing from taking effect. Where the blade had touched, his pearlescent scales turned dull gray, the life leeched from them.
A ghost flame caught the edge of his wing, frosting the membrane over with black ice that spread inward. Kitsuki concentrated, channeling his ice magic to counter the corruption, forcing it back through sheer will.
Jaega appeared beside him, orange flames erupting around the soulvore’s central head. The fire, hot enough to melt stone, should have incinerated the creature. Instead, the fire absorbed into its body, the black energy pulsing brighter as it consumed the magical attack.
All three heads turned toward Jaega, their expressions shifting in unsettling synchronization. The soulvore lashed out with four of its bone-scythes, each blade moving with impossible speed and precision. Jaega evaded two, but the third sliced through the membrane of his wing, and the fourth carved a deep furrow across his chest. The general roared in pain as the necromantic corruption spread from the wounds, blackening his orange scales and dimming his fire.
Kitsuki rushed to his uncle’s aid, ice magic forming a protective barrier between Jaega and the soulvore’s next attack. The bone-scythes struck the wall, their crystallized edges sending cracks through the magical defense with each impact. The barrier wouldn’t hold for long against such concentrated power.
Two of the scythe blades retracted, then shot forward with explosive force, bypassing the ice barrier by tearing new holes in reality. They emerged behind Jaega, impaling his shoulder while the other sliced across his tail. His roar of agony shook the air as necromantic corruption spread, turning his vibrant scales ashen gray.
Kitsuki didn’t hesitate. He released a concentrated icy beam, not at the soulvore but at the bone-scythes. The intense cold struck the blades where they connected to the soulvore’s body. For a crucial moment, they became brittle, allowing Jaega to shatter them and wrench himself free before the corruption could spread further.
The soulvore raised its central head toward the sky and released a pulse of black energy that expanded outward in a perfect sphere. Where the wave touched the clouds, they blackened and twisted into shapes that mimicked screaming faces.
Kitsuki dodged when the creature launched it at him.
“Together,” Jaega signaled with a wing gesture, an old battle sign from their campaigns centuries ago.
Kitsuki understood they would attack from opposite sides, dividing the soulvore’s attention. It was a desperate strategy against such a powerful foe, but they had no better options.
