Chapter 147

A dog trotted its way through the camp on the plain.

It was a boiling hot summer’s day and the sun beat down relentlessly, not even a breeze to stir the endless long grass stretching to the distant horizon. The sounds of millions of crickets making their home in the grasses made the air buzz, creating a low constant music below the sounds of the camp’s own: Mindless chattering, the crash of metal against metal from cooks and smiths, the clop of hooves on dirt. The camp on the plain lived and managed like any other day.

For the most part, the dog was ignored, it was after all just a dog, even if its coat was of an unusual colour.

But then there were always those in a community who wanted to pet a dog.

A small centaur child with the upper body of a gnoll approached. She wasn’t much larger than the dog itself, but that didn’t stop her from raising her hand, raised and ready in child-like petting mode. She smiled as her hand came down, completely innocent of the idea that petting a strange dog could be dangerous.

The dog considered the child, her chubby hand nearing. Then it began to open its mouth. There was one simple way to teach the dangers of strange dogs, and the dog was of the opinion the more permanent the lesson the better.

The dog’s razor sharp teeth and the child’s hand moved into a collision course, the dog’s mouth about to snap shut around small fingers.

“CLARA!!”

The child paused and turned, an adult centaur staring down at her from where they leaned out from a tent flap.

“What are you doing? Get away from that thing!”

The child huffed but moved toward the tent, stomping inside as the fabric flapped shut behind.

“...”

The dog slowly closed its mouth.

Perhaps that had been the better result in the end. Sometimes it was difficult to control the more wild impulses of being a demonic dog.

Still, if there was any place in the world to lose a limb this was it. That was true enough that the child might not have even learned her lesson.

The dog snorted but then moved on, carrying on through the camp.

Of the camps many tents one stood out more than any other. Mostly because it was very large. Its white canvas sheets towered above the other tents and ragged cloth pennants flopped down across its exterior, limp in the windless heat.

The dog pushed its head through the flap and slipped inside.

The interior was plush, with thick incredibly intricate rugs embroidered and piled across the ground. The air was cool too, nothing like the exterior, the temperature apparently controlled through some trick or other.

Much of the interior of the tent wasn’t visible as it had been partitioned into separate ‘rooms’ with curtains, although the one he had emerged into was most definitely in use.

“Don’t go wandering around the camp Bane, I don’t want to be forced to make more threats if you cause an incident.”

The inquisitor was there, sat slumped on a chair, her long legs casally spread, one elbow hooked over the backrest. Her other arm wasn’t visible from this angle, it rested on the table beside her and a small privacy curtain had been erected masking most of the limb from view.

No less than six gnoll centaurs sat at the table beyond the curtain, working furiously on whatever it was they were doing to her maimed arm.

“After we caught up with the refugees and I understood what you did and what they were fleeing from, well you’re lucky I didn’t collar and leash you right then and there, and I might still if you push me, so heed what I command. Summoning a Suc-’’ she glanced to her side recalling the centaurs who were tending to her, “Summoning what you did and unleashing it on the town of Lynthia is enough for me to execute you ten times over.”

The dog tilted its head at her in question.

“The only reason you still live is because I believe the wolf monster to be a much more significant threat. There isn’t a one of what you summoned capable of doing what was done to Lynthia. I dread to think of such a thing unleashed on a populated city and not an abandoned town.”

The dog nodded its head in agreement, although the dog doubted the inquisitor understood what succubi were really capable of.

“Bane! Get your mutt ass in here!”

The dog turned to see the one adult centaur of the camp who was happy to see him, her head poking from one of the partition curtains.

“We’re finished you know. Come see! Come see!”

He trotted through the curtained partition after her and the dog found itself standing on sand. The plains from what the dog had seen were all long grasses which made this space unusual. The clan of centaurs had apparently gone to the effort of hauling large quantities of pristine white sand from somewhere and carefully raking it across the floor of the tent creating a soft yet level surface.

The large thing created for the dog, which had apparently just been finished, lay on this pristine white sand ... The thing didn’t look like anything useful at all if the dog was honest. Spars of metal, seemingly random shapes, curved plates, gears and rods, most of which couldn’t be seen because a huge blob of reflective steel had been poured over it, the thing coalescing into a perfect sphere amongst the apparent frame beneath of which only bits poked out.

The centaur practically pranced as she waited for the dog’s reaction.

The dog considered what he was looking at. It looked like some maniac of an artist’s drug fueled binge of a sculpture if the dog was honest.

“What? You don’t trust it? I know, I know, threatening us with death by Dragons doesn’t exactly make for the most honest of business relationships. But c’mon Bane, it’s me, we’ve always been close, we dove countless dungeons together. I get what happened with the level cap and why you quit, and ya know, I don’t like seeing you like this, like a mindless animal. I would never let the sacred crafters do something sneaky like.”

The dog glanced at the centaur, considering her in the same way it considered the metal structure.

After a moment the dog let out a sigh of resignation, it seemed it had no choice.

The dog lifted a paw and pressed it down onto the sand in front of it. Then it began to move, making circles, jagged lines, geomatrices and runes. The dog lifted its paw away as it finished and the thing radiated a red light before melting away as if it had never been there.

A moment later and the dog convulsed, foaming at the mouth as it collapsed and thrashed, its body swelling and growing, one eyeball shrivelling away as its head and torso put on size, twisting and changing from quadrupedal to bipedal.

It was as it was reaching the peak of change that its limbs abruptly disintegrated. Unable to hold together for a moment longer the meat and bone just seemed to collapse into a slurry of gore, fresh blood pouring from the left behind stumps.

Despite this the dog thing began to move.

Blood poured across the pristine white sand as it flopped, a torso with no limbs. The thing thrusting itself forward, inching across the ground using its chin and arching its spine, crawling like some kind of horrific larva.

The dog thing reached the strange metal sculpture and then the blob contained within lunged.

Liquid metal poured down onto the maimed dog thing, and with it was dragged the metal framework. Metal flowed and poured and things snapped into place, shaping and unwrapping before closing in tight.

The dog grit its teeth as liquid metal flowed into its ragged stumps, connecting with severed nerves, plugging veins and threading cotton thin wires deep into the dog thing’s body, melding with it. More and more metal pieces moved, metal clicking into place, metal plates joining together, flowing down and forming limbs.

The dog thing was left panting on the sand. The metal frame thing was no longer next to him because it was a part of him, they had become one and the same.

Limbs moved and Bane rose from the sand, laboriously climbing to his feet.

“Huh,” said the centaur, “You’re even larger than you were as a human, and you were a big bastard then.”

Bane looked at her with his one eye then looked down at his body.

For the most part he could almost be confused with some kind of dog like species of leveler; his head and bare torso weren’t that far off, just a leveler whose limbs were now encased in plate armour, like that of a knight.

He lifted an arm and watched. The complex moving parts of the gauntlet clinked together as he curled it into a fist. Needless to say, there was no actual living flesh inside the armour, just metal, gears, moving parts, and of course the liquid metal.

“Wow you got used to that fast, usually takes a while for the nervous system to adapt and take over the steel slime.”

Bane tilted his head.

“We did add a little something to talk with you know, I was gonna miss your acidic commentary.

Bane opened his mouth revealing a liquid blob of shiny steel had taken root where his tongue had been. After a moment he managed to take control of the thing and hesitantly moved the steel tongue around. Then his jaw and the tongue shifted together and a voice emerged from his mouth, a metallic shriek.

“SLiMe?”

The centaur winced. “Uh, yeah, you’re going to need to practice with that, it’s not what you’d be used to.”

Bane grimaced but didn’t try to use his new ‘voice’ again.

“And yeah, slime. As in slime monster. Don’t give me that look, slimes aren’t like you think, honestly they might be some of the most powerful monsters in the world, it’s just their evolutions occur so incredibly rarely. That steel slime you’re merged with being one of those rarities. It took us nearly six months to find the thing so you had better be grateful as fuck.”