Chapter 358: The Invaders Identity
Upon a small hill, that was in reality a wave of lava that had been frozen solid, stood a collection of the ’small’ individuals that accompanied the Yeti’s in their invasion. The brain to their brawn.
Of course these beings were not actually small, although they were slightly shorter than the average human male by a few inches.
Most of their features were hidden by their clothing, which was heavy with furs and leather from thick, blubbery beasts.
Although their heads were mostly wrapped up, with only some white clouds puffing out from the rags that covered their mouth. What could be seen showed that they had pale blue skin, and icicles hanging off their long, pointed ears as if they had been frozen solid for centuries.
Slender fingers, some of which had a black hue to them, were wrapped around the body of bows that had the same frozen aesthetic as everything else around them. Even the string on these bows looked like it was made of pure ice, because it actually was.
A special type of enchanted ice that was strong and flexible to an illogical degree, only under the magical touch of these blue skinned individuals. A technique that had been developed and altered depending on the available materials so that anything they crafted could only be used by their own people.
Elves did not like their weapons being used by others.
The Frost Elves drew their arrows from quivers on their belts and knocked them on the solid ice string of their bows. Had it not been for the thick, heavily insulated clothing covering the majority of their bodies, you would have seen the muscles in their back pressing against their pale skin, showing the definition that could only be earned from a life time of dedication to the craft.
A life time that for elves, was much longer than most species could ever home to last.
Their arrows whistled through the air, aiming for the ones that had attacked them in the middle of their invasion. The majority of their arrows flew towards the one that took the shape similar to that of a juvenile beast whose name literally translates to "Final Sight in the White.", or more accurately "The White Death."
They were names that sounded better in elvish, but still got the point across quite clearly. Meeting one was a death sentence, plain and simple. They had never once dreamed that they would find one here of all places, even if it was missing its horns and mating decorations.
Yet, no matter how many arrows they launched at the White Death, none of them came even close to landing. All of their aims were true, shooting off what should have been kill shots or at least severely wounding, but all of them simply bounced off a faintly visible white dome that surrounded the entire battle field.
A dome that had a small Wild-Blood at its very centre, as he held a staff close to his chest and chanted softly. He was completely immobile while casting the spell, unable to even defend himself against anything that charged towards him, but that was why he had so many protectors.
Still, they would continue to fire, as once the Wild-Blood moved, the dome would fall and soon so would the enemies. It was simply a matter of time, and elves were experts at waiting. It was a shame for them Belladonna wasn’t.
A frozen bow shattered mid draw as the archer that had been holding it was launched backwards, lifted off of the ground by the kick that blasted him dozens of metres and shattered his rib cage into splinters.
The Elves quickly changed their aim, firing at the newest attacker who had manifested out of thin air. Some of their arrows even glistened as a cold air drifted from their tips, as the Elves cast enchantments on them to freeze the attacker in place.
It was a wonderful idea, if they could only hit Belladonna. But every arrow, no matter how well aimed, crawled through the air in her eyes. Weaving through them was no problem at all.
Ducking and slipping past the crawling arrows, Belladonna launched a few more elves with a punch or a kick each, before leaping into the centre of an amassing group.
Her boots turned to a black sludge that quickly retreated from her soles, revealing her bare feet as the runes carved into them flared to life. Flames spewed from Belladonna’s feet as she dropped to the ground and planted her hand onto the ground.
Lifting her entire body up, Belladonna balanced on a single finger as she began to spin, around and around, her velocity picking up the more she burned the runes on her feet. She became a whirling inferno, consuming everything around her and drowning her in flames before the Elven archers could properly draw their side arm.
Some tried to push through, but before they could make it to the centre of the twister, they simply collapsed. Their bodies reduced themselves to charred skeletons that clutched tight to their sacred bows.
Bows that Belladonna, after stopping her break-dancing spin, shamelessly stole. As she walked through the charbroiled forest of bodies, her boots slithered back onto her feet and solidified, forming themselves into a much more comfortable form.
A smirk spread across Belladonna’s face as she held a pair of the Elves boots in her hands. Her gauntlets liquefied, turning into a collection of wriggling tendrils that wrapped around the boots, rapidly ensnaring the entire clothing piece before dragging it inside of Belladonna’s palms, where it promptly vanished.
The pair of boots that her Living Armour was forming, was none other than these very boots. Their snug, fur lined material kept her feet perfectly toasty, so much so that she could not help but wriggle her toes and sigh in delight, as the Living Armour even adjusted the boots so they fit her perfectly.
She did the exact same with the Elves warm clothing, blending it with her existing armour appearance to create a hybrid of the two. The comfort of the warm clothing, with the appearance and defensive capabilities of her original armour.
It was surprisingly easy, although it did take absorbing a few different outfits before she could get it exactly right, just so her Living Armour had more examples to work off of.
It was just a shame that it didn’t work on weapons. No matter how hard she tried she couldn’t get it to absorb or replicate the bows. Not even Saige’s staff would be replicated, however she could make spikes on her knuckles.
It was a little strange and contradictory, but they didn’t call it Living Armour without a good reason.
Once everything was dead, Saige cancelled his protection spell and the harvest began. Parts were removed from the Yeti and Elven pockets were rifled through for anything valuable.
When she plunged her hand into the elves chest, and could look upon the tranquil expression it had plastered across its face in death, Belladonna found herself thinking.
Here she was, rifling through the chest and fondling the organs of something that looks almost human. It could think, speak, reason and fight. It was a living thing that she had killed, a Sapient thing, and now she was treating its corpse like it was just another loot chest in the hopes of a Source.
Yet despite all of that, Belladonna simply felt nothing. She couldn’t explain it. The more she thought about it, the more she explored her mind. Where guilt and empathy usually resided, it was simply empty.
She had killed these men and women, and she felt completely apathetic. The worst part was, despite being fully aware of this, Belladonna did nothing to try and change that feeling.
Even if it worried her about what she would become in the future, and what she had already become.
She hadn’t even realised the feeling of killing something had disappeared so quickly. That was the scariest part. It was simply gone.
Belladonna’s only hope was that was where it ended.