***
Ilthin landed without the need to use a flight or gravity spell. She couldn’t hope to make an impact with her light mass even by aiming for the heart of the enemy formation.
She used her bloodline ability, Shattered Soul, to produce a sonic shockwave so strong that it broke her fall and flattened the monsters in a radius of over 100 meters (328 feet) from her landing spot.
Those outside the focal point of the shriek were sent tumbling by the sheer air pressure produced by Shattered Soul, bumping into those next to them in a domino effect. Even monsters several meters tall and weighing close to 150 kilograms (331 pounds) folded like cheap shirts.
Their eardrums had been either burst or damaged by the noise, depending on how sensitive their hearing was, making the monsters lose their sense of balance. With knees wobbling like jelly, even a gentle push was enough to topple a titan, let alone the fury of a storm.
Ilthin conjured her weapon of choice against the living, the one-and-a-half-handed mace Orphan Maker. Most undead had a weak point that needed to be destroyed to kill them forever.
A blunt instrument couldn’t pierce a Vampire’s heart or reach the flesh hidden inside the stomach of a Wendigo.
For the members of her kin, the Firstborn Banshee favored a dual-wielding style for her rapier and dagger, Storm Fangs. Against the living, instead, Orphan Maker was true to its name.
The mace was comprised of a single piece of Davross, save for the hilt that was lined with a single Griffon feather. Each hit of the weapon shattered bones even when it was blocked and turned its victim into a living projectile.
In such a tight melee, Ilthin exploited her full strength by sending the corpses ramming against the backlines, their bodies taking on the remaining strength of the blow.
Those who survived a direct hit either died when crashing against their allies or by their hand since a weakened monster was no different from a free meal in the eyes of the horde.
With her free hand, the Firstborn Banshee conjured streams of lightning and air blades that cut deep into the monsters’ ranks even after hitting their first target. Both disrupted the monsters’ teamwork, one by sending them into a seizure and the other by spilling blood.
Despite her good looks, Ilthin smelled of undeath to the fallen creatures, making her an enemy but not a meal. Their allies, however, smelled delicious.
The frenzy of battle coupled with the scent of fresh blood caused many monsters to lose their mind to the hunger that plagued them from birth and was aggravated by the long march.
Their loyalty to their master was suppressed by the feeding instinct, plunging the battlefield into chaos.
The healthy monsters attacked even the injured members of their same tribe who defended themselves fang and claw, spilling more blood. Ilthin made sure that the vicious cycle never ended, her spells focused on opening injuries rather than killing.
She swatted anyone who came too close to Orphan Maker, resorting to Shattered Soul solely when surrounded. A simple earth magic spell made everyone but her ankle-deep in the mud.
The ground became solid only when her feet touched it and the gap in speed was now so wide that Ilthin moved freely amid the frenzied creatures. She waited for them to be clumped together before hitting them all with a single sweep of her mace.
The Firstborn Banshee had yet to suffer one hit yet her eyes were teary with disgust. The reek of the monsters’ blood and the revulsion she felt from their corrupted life forces made her want to puke.
Discipline and battle experience allowed her to deny her instincts. Every fiber of her being wanted to unleash the Life Maelstrom she had received from Lith and wipe out those abominations, but she saved it for Orphan Maker and Shattered Soul.
What looked like a white snake whipped from behind her, producing the crack typical of a small object breaking the speed of sound when it missed. Ilthin had no need for Full Guard, she channeled the disgust she felt to perceive every rotten heartbeat and bulging vein around her.
The thing in front of her was no exception nor were the four more snakes that came at her in rapid succession. The Banshee had no idea what she was up against and was curious to know.
In her long life, the unknown was a rarity and the only thing she feared.
She pulled an ogre out of the mud and used him as a meat shield. Ilthin counted thirteen different snakes before the attack stopped and the ogre was riddled with holes big enough for her to see through them.
“You sure are an ugly bastard.” She said to the creature while it was still busy munching.
It looked like a naked hairless humanoid with pulsating reddish skin and no visible sensory organs. Its whole skin steamed in the chill of the night yet some of the puffs were denser than the rest for no apparent reason.
The snakes were actually what she assumed were fingers only because they came out from the extremity of the monster’s forelimb where humanoid creatures usually had a hand.
Each alleged hand had six three meters (10′) long fingers, each one of them ending with a fanged maw that was chewing a bloody piece of flesh and crunching bones. It explained twelve hits but the last one was still a mystery.
At least until Ilthin noticed that the mouth on the slate-like face of the creature was munching as well.
“Oh, gods!” Ilthin grimaced in disgust while smashing the space around her free as more serpent-fingered creatures approached. “Pearl white skin, many mouths all over your body, and your heart beats so fast that you are in a perennial blush.
“You guys are mutated trolls. And not the cute reverted/evolved kind of trolls but the further-fallen-down kind.”
The creature hissed in reply, revealing a meters-long tongue ending with a bone hook. Crunching sounds could be heard as it walked over its fallen companions, indicating the presence of more mouths under its feet.
The Firstborn Banshee heard the humming of the troll’s heartbeat become louder yet it was slightly out of synch. She turned around, noticing more mutated trolls coming close while the rest of the monsters kept their distance from the undead.
Ilthin’s full blood red core granted her nigh-infinite stamina but the respite gave her the time to take a good look around her. Monsters were naturally drawn to mana geyser because they were capable of using the world energy to alter their life force despite their inability to use magic.
Under normal circumstances, such a thing required the tier five Body Sculpting spell, but monsters had an unstable life force and their accelerated metabolism made them prone to mutations when in the presence of a substantial energy source.
The trolls weren’t the only ones to have changed for the worse. Ilthin recognized several variations of the species she knew and all of them had become more twisted. Even those like the orcs and Warg who were supposed to retain a degree of rationality had become feral and deranged.
