Moon Glaive

₵Ⱨ₳₱₮ɆⱤ ɆⱤⱤØⱤ

He walked amongst a path. The smell of burning wood mingled with delicious, charred flesh, the scent of blood lingering in the air. He took a deep breath, his hands clasped behind his back.

Ah, how delicious.

His eyes took in the beautiful sight before him. Broken buildings spilled onto the cracked pathways - jagged shards of stone, burning wood, and smoke. Then, something splintered above him.

"Oops." He gracefully sidestepped the burning pillar of wood, but in doing so, he stepped on something squishy.

"Uhhh...help...help me..."

It was the upper body of a charred man. Not a single bit of him remained uncarbonized, like a severely overcooked chicken. He took in the particularly captivating smell of char the man's body emanated, followed by a rich scent of blood. Looking lower, he found the man to have lost everything below his waist.

Blood, guts, and other innards of the human body lay strewn behind him in a trail. I assume he crawled from somewhere? It made sense for the human to crawl this way, as the town's entrance was only a few feet behind him.

"Your tenacity to live inspires me. You are the only soul to survive. A shame that you were too weak." He crouched. 

"Do you wish to live?"

"Yes...." The body moaned.

"I can help you. Promise me you will never be complacent. Promise me you'll never remain weak again."

"I...promise..." The man weakly moaned. He held no anger, sadness, or fear in his voice – he only longed to live. Good. Very good.

He reached out with his lanky, red arm. It was smooth without fault – save for the blood of Braedon Town's citizens dripping from it – to the point of unnaturalness. He had five fingers but sharpened, cone-like ends replaced the tips. He also had an extra joint near the tip to better grasp objects – for example, corpses – that acted as a replacement for the lack of flat finger ends.

"Henceforth, your purpose is to garner your strength. You must obey my command, striving for greatness whilst eliminating the sinners who refuse to become strong."

"For you have fought and overcome the pestilence of weakness, I shall grant you the strength of a wyvern." He poked into the man's head. Blood and brain matter leaked out, but he injected even more blood into it. Moments later, he took his finger out.

At first, nothing happened. The man continued to moan and groan in satisfying bursts of pain, but suddenly, he trembled. Then, he trembled again. And then, he began trembling violently as if something were trying to escape its body.

Good. Very good. It's working as expected.

The man screamed horrifically, his guttural screams plaguing the air. The man writhed about, screaming for help, but he refused to aid him. Through his own strength must he prevail.

The man squeezed the ground tightly, grabbing onto the soil poking its way through the broken stone path. Tears streamed from him despite his charred eyes. The man emanated agony on a primordial level. How delightful.

Suddenly, the man's lower body began to grow. Skin, flesh, bone, and muscle grew at an astonishing rate until his legs were fully grown – but instead of regular, ivory skin, his skin was a bright red, like tomato juice. A similar process occurred on his upper body, and soon enough, the man was fully healed, but with many differences.

Attached to his arms were wings, his hands remaining at the end. A winding, barbed tail grew from his back and curled, black horns grew from his head. A draconic mouth lined with razor-sharp teeth replaced his human mouth, and a two-foot-long tongue flopped out. Its merlot-red scales stopped at the base of his short, brown hair. The man's ears had also been replaced by draconic ears as well.