Seeing this distorted pile of flesh move around, I immediately charged forward as another one of his fingers shot forward. Only it wasn't aimed at me; it was instead aimed directly at the other guy, and before I could do anything, it went past me, blowing his head off too.
"Stahl ist mein Körper." I chanted to myself as I rushed forward, casting a stronger reinforcement spell on my body, not wanting to take chances.
(Steel is my body)
Sure, it wouldn't last as long as reinforcement normally would; however, I wanted to end this fight quickly and stop my Od from being rapidly drained. Either way, I would definitely be sore tomorrow, and as I got closer to this puppeted meat corpse, I saw the lifeless look in his eyes.
No, in the way that the body was dead, but that the mind wasn't there right now.
"Break, break, break those who do not honor the king of flesh, let the soul leave behind nothing but death." he rapidly shouted as I began to pummel his body with my cane.
It wasn't like I was letting whoever was chanting to do so. I tried to knock him out, but nothing seemed to work, nor was he making an effort to heal his missing fingers.
Either way, when he finished that spell, his body began to twist and mold itself into a new, more monstrous form. I could tell that whatever was in front of me was essentially a hybrid between a Dead Apostle and a human.
Meaning that whoever was piloting this man's body had just forced it to go under transformation, forcing it into a new state of being. However, it was imperfect and probably just a temporary measure, but the fact that they did so so bluntly and cruelly was worrying enough.
Which meant that whoever gave these grunts those mystic codes was desperate to keep their identity and involvement a secret. Regardless of whether they knew it or not, they could drop hints to lead me towards the culprit.
Honestly, I just thought they were an odd magus who decided to set up shop in someone else's city instead of finding some other place to settle down. No matter, I could figure it out later as the newly transformed Dead Apostle charged forward, mindlessly at me with no care for its own body.
It raised its clawed hand upward, striking at my side with blinding speed, pushing me toward the wall of my library, and I crashed against the brick wall, spitting out a bit due to the sudden impact.
While my mystic codes helped lessen the damage, it was still painful, but I couldn't afford to rest and charged back out, working through the pain.
"Verwandeln, drehen und neu formieren." I chanted over my cane, reforming it into a large spike, using bits of the concrete and the metal to make it stronger.
(Transform, twist and reform)
A basic form of alchemy to reform and reshape an object using the quvilanet materials, and while it was no longer a proper mystic code, the components are still intact. That was it, though, the damn thing was weaker than before and needed to be properly remade.
I charged forward as the mindless creature in front of me did so as well, roaring out as its flesh was quickly rotting away. Probably a side effect on teh forcefull transformation it went through.
Afterall it isn't a proper Dead Apostle, not even a newborn one at that. Heck, if I had to compare it to a ghoul, I don't know who would make it out on top. Well, depending on the type of ghoul that is, maybe one of the higher ends, one that could've become a Dead Apostle under different circumstances.
That didn't matter, though, as it was just as dumb as one giving me a proper opening as I launched my hastily made spear, shoving it into its mouth. Once I did so, I used all my strength to force it to the ground, tearing off its lower jaw instead of pinning it.
Not giving it a chance to recover, I began punching down on it, using good old-fashioned brute force. Not as elegant as most magi would want it, but as long as it got results thats all that mattered.
With each hit, I could feel the flesh peeling off and the body falling apart as I did so. Meaning that, even if this guy was somehow still alive, he woudl be begging for death. That and whatever secrets or knowledge he may have had about whoever was doing this, he's in too much pain to talk now.
So the best thing to do for him is just let the body rest and figure out the rest later. That and if something remained of his body, I could probably examine it thoroughly and figure out exactly what happened to him, what caused this transformation beyond that chant.
Because I highly doubt that such a thing was the sole cause for such a transformation, it might've helped start it. However, it wouldn't be the only reason for such a thing, nor would it support such an existence.
Meaning there was some other component I wasn't seeing, perhaps something to do with his blood, it would certainly make sense for some of eastern descendant to have inhuman blood in them. Not so much as in they themselves are demons, but beings of the reverse side of the world persisted longer in the east than they did in the west for some odd reason.
Making them more common to see than someone with fae-blood in them or something akin to it. Either that or there was another reason for it that I simply wasn't seeing yet.
The creature itself, however, was still trying to get up, clawing away at the ground as more of his flesh fell out. Bones sticking out and breaking, yet molding alongside the fallen bits of flesh.
"Zusammenbruch und Reform."
(Collapse and Reform)
Instantly, the ground around it collapsed temporarily, reforming around the body, piercing its remaining flesh and organs. The creature continued to thrash around, trying to force itself out of the ground, and although it had increased strength. It had one problem.
Even a half-baked Dead Apostle needed a body to strengthen himself properly. This thing had no means of doing so beyond reinforcing his flesh using the gifted mystic codes.
Soon enough, though, I'd know as his body quickly stopped thrashing around, and just for a second, I saw the blank look in his eyes disappear. Replaced by his old eyes, the eyes full of pain, fear, and most of all regret.
Then just like that, it disappeared as the last bits of life left his eyes, and his head slumped to the ground, looking over I saw that the other two weren't following this guy's footsteps.
"Was this man just specifically chosen, or did all three have this mechanism of turning into half-baked Dead Apostles?" I said while rubbing my chin.
"Either way, this little fight did reveal a few interesting notes, one of these being that my new circuits did not increase the amount of pain I feel whenever they are activated."
"Alongside that their is another Magus in the city, working for the ABB of all people, and whatever they are doing involves Dead Apostles in some form."
"With this man being a fine specimen to study, as his potential for nonhuman ancestry may be higher than the other two, considering he was transformed for some reason."
"Or it could be that it was randomized, and that whoever I wasn't concentrating on, would've transformed."
"Thats what the dissection is for, figuring out what made you special and not them."
"Sammeln, eilends entformen, zerstreuen."
(Gather, unform with haste, disperse)
I chanted them three times, dispersing the rocks surrounding the bodies and pulling them toward the door I came out of, planning to bring them directly to my lab. It wasn't overly complicated, but that only left one last thing: how to properly get rid of the evidence.
If this were just a normal break-in or something like that, I would've just left the knocked-out grunts here, nothing more, nothing less. A simple cape fight against some local gangsters, nothing to make the local news or anything like that, but now.
Clicking my teeth in frustration as I slowly reformed the area, turning it back to what it was before our little tussle. Getting rid of any blood from the gangsters, alongside the DNA associated with them and me.
Didn't want them finding any trace of me and interrupting my librarian's personal daily life. That and the idiotic masses' firm stance of wanting magecraft to be widespread, to have it in their hand or have us registered with the government.
So whoever was doing this was doing so blatantly for the whole world to see, to get them a front row seat to some of Magecraft's basic techniques. Not showing them the horrors beneath it all that even the most magi conduct with a smile on their face, or well, a blank expression, either one worked.
"Really thinking they deserve even the most youngest families carefully honed craft, how despicable."
Was the last thing I said that night as I began dragging the bodies down one by one, knowing full well this place was going to need a deep clean by the end of it. It was so frustrating to do, and even then made me want to trade some of my family's craft for golemancy, which was a branch of alchemy, but one we didn't concentrate on all that much.
Then again, familiars could probably work as well, under the correct circumstances ayway as my own murder helped keep an eye on the city and was...difficult to put together. There was also the fact that the karmic line connecting a magus to their familiar was more often singular; I had formed many lines for this swarm.
So even if they did share some of my own abilties, it was dispersed and weakened, but it wasn't their true purpose anyway. They were to be my eyes and ears in the city, keeping an eye out for any magus that entered my city.
But it seemed an investigation was needed, a much more thorough one that is. Especially when trying to figure out why they want to make use of the ABB, are they one of those Western magi who believe the East is barbaric or something more? The only reason I thought of the idea of this man having inhuman blood in him is the very fact that he transformed.
I needed to know just what made this man special, or if this was truly a fluke, a random chance that he was chosen.