Standing in front of his target, Zeke channeled his Spellform, infusing it with Blood and Mind Mana while adjusting his Intent to match its new function. However, the spell fizzled out upon contact with the warrior—a failure. Determined, Zeke adjusted the ratio, attempting to cast it with more Mind Mana.
Another failure.
And another.
And another.
…
Maybe it was the Intent?
…
Zeke was so absorbed in his experimentation that he didn't notice the strain he was under. Maintaining his [Bloodbound Clarity] for an extended period while casting one spell after another had drained his Core significantly. In just a few moments, he had exhausted more than half of his capabilities.
However, it all became worth it when he suddenly felt a change. Zeke froze in his tracks as he felt the spell taking hold. Was it really possible? He would only be able to tell if he had actually succeeded once he undid [Bloodbound Clarity]. His resolve wavered as he dared to imagine what the result would look like. His base spell, combined with the Mind affinity, could only result in something… reprehensible.
Zeke steeled his mind, trying to soothe his taut nerves as he prepared to undo his [Bloodbound Clarity]. For a moment, the battlefield noise faded into the background as his focus sharpened on the spell he had just cast. This was it—the culmination of his relentless experimentation. His Core thrummed, nearly depleted from the strain, but Zeke's mind was too intent on the result to care.
The clarity faded, his senses adjusting as the enhanced perception of [Bloodbound Clarity] left him. He turned his gaze to the warrior before him, a Frostscale soldier, now standing unnervingly still. Zeke's spell had clearly taken hold, but the results were not yet clear.
The warrior's eyes, which moments before had been filled with rage, were now dull and lifeless. The spear that had been raised for an attack hung limply by his side, forgotten. Zeke tentatively commanded the man to raise his arm through the Mana flowing between them.
To Zeke's surprise, the arm lifted smoothly, following his mental command like a puppet on strings. The soldier moved without resistance, his body responding automatically to Zeke's will. Yet something was different. Unlike using [Blood Puppeteering] on himself, this experience felt entirely new. He had expected to encounter resistance, to struggle for control against the target's natural defenses. But there was none—the man's mind seemed... absent.
Zeke narrowed his eyes, curious. Why wasn't the soldier resisting?
Zeke focused on understanding the exact role of the Mind Mana he had woven into the spell. Normally, the Blood aspect controlled the target's body, forcing compliance. But this time, something deeper had occurred—it had silenced the man's will. Zeke could sense it: the soldier was aware of what was happening, yet completely incapable of resisting or acting on his own. It was as if the man's consciousness had been placed in a trance, locked away in a fog.
Testing the limits of the spell, Zeke mentally commanded the soldier to step forward. The Frostscale warrior obeyed immediately, his movements fluid but without any sign of conscious thought. Zeke clenched his fist, and the soldier's spear was lifted, pointing toward the nearest Frostscale troops.
After a mental command, the spear flew through the air, hitting an allied warrior in the back. The weapon struck with such force that its tip jutted out through the warrior's ribcage. Zeke immediately teleported away, vanishing from sight. The group of Frostscale warriors spun, spotting Zeke's puppet standing there, arm outstretched, missing a spear. With enraged cries, they pounced, aiming to kill the supposed traitor on the spot.
Zeke experimented further, driving the Frostscale warrior into battle against his comrades. The controlled soldier struck down his former allies with brutal efficiency, showing no hesitation. The trance left him with no moral conflict, no fear, no anger—just the unwavering execution of Zeke's will.
He observed with a mixture of fascination and dread as his puppet mowed through the ranks. When a surviving Frostscale finally managed to stab the soldier, the puppet fell without even a sound, eyes still glazed over, as if death had claimed an empty husk.
Zeke stared at the warrior's body.
The effectiveness of his technique was undeniable.
The combination of his [Blood Puppeteering] and Mind affinity had created something terrifying: a mindless puppet. The Blood aspect allowed Zeke to control the target's body, and the Mind aspect stripped away any chance of resistance, rendering the target a hollow vessel for his commands.
Zeke couldn't suppress the shiver that ran through him as he realized what this meant. He withdrew from the experiment, letting the remnants of his spell dissolve. The battlefield roared back into his awareness as he stood, staring. Zeke flexed his fingers, feeling the rich blood pulsing through his veins.
This spell… felt wrong.
The moral implications weren't lost on him, and Zeke knew precisely why the spell made him feel so uneasy. It was uncomfortably close to the methods used by his most hated enemy. Yet, the practicality of such a tool was undeniable, especially in this situation. After all, his current goal was to subdue the Frostscale warriors without killing them.
Shouldn't he use the best way to achieve that?
He was fooling himself. The real question was: could he bring himself to use this spell, regardless of what that would make him? Was he willing to strip his opponents of their will, turning them into mindless husks?
Zeke gazed out over the battlefield. He watched as the wolves of the Icefang Tribe retreated into the tunnel, following Akasha's commands. The snakes pursued, their spears darkening the sky as they rained down on the retreating troops.
Zeke's eyes landed on one spear in particular, its tip glinting with light blue poison as it arced through the air. It struck a retreating Icefang warrior, grazing his ribs. The wound wasn't deep, but that hardly mattered—the poison quickly began to spread. In response, the injured warrior used his ice control to freeze the area, either to prevent blood loss or slow the poison's advance.
Zeke watched, transfixed, even though there was nothing remarkable about the scene. It wasn't a pivotal moment in the battle, nor was it an unusual occurrence. In fact, the same thing was happening all across the battlefield—something so routine it had happened hundreds of times already and would happen hundreds more. Yet, as he watched, the turmoil of Zeke's feelings sharpened into one thought.
Had he really grown so arrogant after his advancement?
Here, on this battlefield where his survival was anything but guaranteed, Zeke found himself contemplating whether to use the weapons at his disposal. When had he started to treat his enemies so cavalierly?
Did the snakes ever consider refraining from using their poison because it would be unjust? Of course not. This was a fight for their lives, and they would use whatever means necessary to gain the upper hand.
In that moment, Zeke grasped a fundamental truth about the world: it was not the worm crawling on the ground that determined right or wrong; that privilege belonged to those soaring through the sky. Currently, he was very much a worm. And as a worm, he had to struggle with everything he had.
Zeke's fist balled as his eyes grew firm. Without wasting another instance, Zeke appeared behind the group of warriors that had killed his puppet. He repeated the previous steps and recreated the spell exactly, taking control of the closest warrior.
Success.
Another cast.
Another success.
Zeke had already taken control of three warriors before the remaining two noticed him. But it was too late. Before they could react, their former allies pounced on them, holding them down. Zeke cast the spell twice more, seizing control of the entire group.
He smiled in satisfaction as all five warriors rose before him, entirely under his control. However, he soon realized another problem: managing five people at once was enormously taxing on his mind. At this rate, he could only afford to control a few more before his mental capacity was fully stretched.
"I need your help, Akasha," Zeke called out in his mind.
A moment later, Zeke felt the burden lift as Akasha took control of the spells. At the same time, he noticed a slight increase in the draw on his core. Akasha could endlessly expand her mental capacity, but this came with a rising demand for Mind Mana. So far, however, the cost remained relatively small.
Through Akasha, he ordered the five to surround him, shrouding his silhouette. Their small group advanced together, approaching the main fighting force of the Frostscale tribe. On the way, Zeke finally managed to inspect his Core. He had overdone it earlier, putting it under quite a bit of strain. However, to his surprise, he noticed that his new [Puppeteering] spell didn't cost a lot of Mana to cast.
He suspected the reason for this was twofold. First, his perfect Blood affinity made the cost of most Blood spells almost negligible. Second, Chimeroi had a very poor defense against Mind Magic. It was likely that casting the spell on Mages would be significantly more difficult, draining his Core substantially, if he could suppress their minds at all. Using the spell on individuals of his own level or higher felt like a distant dream.
Their small group soon reached the main fighting force, and Zeke began his work. Hiding behind his puppets, he could easily get close to the unsuspecting Frostscale warriors, allowing him to cast in peace. Moments later, another five warriors joined his side, and Akasha quickly took control of them as well.
The puppets formed a cocoon around him, isolating him from the rest of the battle while pretending to engage in the fighting. Zeke smiled; Akasha had done an amazing job. Even under closer inspection, it was difficult to tell that the warriors were being controlled. With no more worries, Zeke furiously continued his mission, gradually increasing his numbers.
20 Puppets.
30 Puppets.
50 Puppets.
100 Puppets.
Once their numbers reached the triple digits, two things happened. First, Zeke felt the strain on his core had surpassed the point where consumption outpaced recovery. Second, with so many warriors being idle, the surrounding crowd began to grow suspicious. It was becoming increasingly noticeable that many of them weren't actually doing anything.
Zeke pondered his options. He could either take his prisoners and leave, or he could double down and grab as many as he could before their suspicions could turn into certainty. Glancing at the large number of warriors before him, he quickly made his decision. Abandoning all attempts at stealth, Zeke began to rapidly cast his spell, trying to take control of as many warriors as possible.
Initially, Zeke focused on those who seemed suspicious of his actions, but he quickly abandoned that approach. It turned out to be significantly more challenging to control individuals who were already wary, requiring much more effort to subdue them. Instead, it was far more efficient to take control of several nearby allies and overpower them than to try to overwhelm their minds directly.
Using these tactics, Zeke managed to control a few dozen warriors more before the Frostscale tribe grew wise to his actions. Several commanders ordered a retreat, isolating Zeke's group from the main fighting force. While several hundred of the enemy remained, Zeke had significantly weakened their numbers.
Silence fell on the battlefield as the siege transformed into a three-way standoff. Towards the cave entrance, the Icefang tribe had gathered. On the opposite side of the battlefield, the Frostscale warriors loomed. Between them, Zeke camped with his puppet army.
And none of the factions seemed to know how to proceed.