348 - Full Consolidation Pt. 2 [Sturmblitz] (Patreon)

The colour of both her hair and the Thundergod manifestations had also changed; in most cases, the beastly heads of her Thundergods manifested in a pale greyish-blue, blending Fulgur, Metallum, and Predator Aura into a stable form that was simply solid and nothing more. In this state, her hair moved with a relaxed smoothness, but had a tendency to coil around her, occasionally snapping from one spot to the next with great violence and flashes of blue light. In an instant, however, this “relaxed” state could become the form she was most known for, blazing with blue-white lightning and tearing away at solid cold-iron with lashing bites.

It seemed as if the maintenance costs were simply negligible.

Of course, such a drastic effect elicited a great deal of curiosity, especially since she had never once specified what the technique was and where she had learned it. She had, after all, only developed it after the Blue Moon War, and had never given it a “proper” name, being satisfied with “Thundergod Manifestation”.

The questions were truly incessant, especially the ones that weren’t spoken directly to her.

It was in the privacy of Makhus’ personal lab that she would be finally convinced to name the technique. As had become somewhat of a tradition, bodily change was followed by an examination from the aforementioned alchemist — an increasingly-advanced battery of sample-taking and testing. The only people present were Zelsys, Zefaris, Makhus, and an assistant-protegé of his whose name Zel couldn’t remember for the life of her. His face and hair were both a sullen, greyish shade, contrasted by large, saturated-burgundy eyes.

“Why did you not name it earlier? It’s not as if you’re one to lack imagination in naming techniques,” the alchemist spoke, his words a mere second fiddle as he cut into Zel’s side. Her skin and muscle parted seamlessly before his scalpel, wrought from the broken-off point of a once-revered sword and enveloped by the milky-white glow of his Armament Aura. To call it a cut would in fact be an overstatement; no fibres or veins were severed, it was merely an opening assisted by the “able to cut anything” aspect of Makhus’ natural aura. A mass grave of edge-stripped scalpels sat piled up to the side, and numerous light lines zigzagged Zel’s skin, already fading.

“I just settled on Thundergod Manifestation and that was good enough,” she said, shrugging with her braids so as to avoid shifting the skin around the vivisection window. “After that I just kept applying other developments to it, and it gradually grew into this. I had never predicted that it would reach this state, even if, in retrospect, it was inevitable from the moment I started taking it for granted.”

“Well, come up with a name, or people will come up with one for you, and it will be stupid. You don’t need me to tell you that.”

He was right, of course. She was just putting it off — some half-dozen potential names had been floating around in her head ever since she first noticed the change, before anyone had even asked about it.

It was only now that she finally gave in and chose one out of the six candidates.

“Seven-headed Leviathan Method. I’ll tell them it’s part of my Pandaemonium Scripture if they ask where it’s from.”

PANDAEMONIUM SCRIPTURE

GEHEIMNIS: SEVEN-HEADED LEVIATHAN METHOD

There was no such thing as a Pandaemonium Scripture; not yet, at least.

“That works, sure…” Makhus uttered, his actual focus squarely on observing Zel’s internal organs. She sat there, using aura to invisibly hold her own skin and muscle apart so that the sect’s premier alchemist and his assistant could peer underneath, observing her increasingly more alien biology directly. No blood spilled forth, and her bones appeared grey.

“You mentioned your lungs, but what of your heart?” Makhus questioned, squinting against the flashes of blue escaping through the vivisection window.

“Atavism. I stole it from an ancient caveman, so to speak. It requires far more energy and far stronger flesh to operate correctly, but in all other aspects it suits me far better.”

Her heart had not suddenly become an alien organ of six chambers — it merely appeared alien due to its fundamentally more rugged design and the appearance of Zel’s flesh overall. Thin bands of silver and bronze could be seen threading through the deep-crimson flesh, tracing the muscular structure, further added onto by the scattered patterns of silver conduits. At this moment, it beat abnormally slowly, only once every two seconds. With each beat, a sphere could be glimpsed, illuminating it from within, albeit to a much dimmer degree than the ignitions taking place in her lungs.

“Alright, close yourself up. I think—” Makhus began, glancing towards one of his fresh-faced assistants. The young man, no older than sixteen, was already doubling over and trying not to vomit. As soon as an empty jar was placed at his feet, he let rip his breakfast.

Makhus, meanwhile, looked down at the boy, more confused than anything.

“He’s been handling all sorts of tissues and dissecting animals for months now. I’ve no clue what took hold of him. Next on the list… Open your mouth as wide as it will go and stick your tongue out.”

Zel did as asked. Her mouth opened, and then opened some more, and some more after that. It was a yawning cavern of razor teeth, with numerous threads of saliva stretching between the top and bottom. Her tongue dangled out as a massive fleshy tendril, visibly separated into four lengthwise bands of muscle with shallow channels between them.

“Zefaris, can I get the dimensions?” Makhus requested.

Silence.

Makhus turned in confusion, looking for Zefaris, finding her staring with both eyes open. He snapped his fingers in front of her face, prompting her to, in turn, snap out of her daze. She blinked a few times, listing the data he had asked for.

“You don’t bite in fights, any reason to change your jaw?”

Zel didn’t answer, giving a simple shrug. Makhus brought out a sample vial, handing it over.

“Spit. We’re almost done here.”