The Cult's Failed Summoning

Chapter 4: First Mutation

Boros remained suspended in the dark solvent, utterly still, yet his awareness sharpened with predatory focus. Through the thick glass, he watched Alistair restrain the small Surong on the stone slab and feed it a fragment of his own severed flesh. The creature wasted no time. It snatched the piece and devoured it with frantic hunger.

*I honestly thought it would refuse to eat it. This body was created through unorthodox methods, after all. But it consumed the flesh so eagerly… that raises far too many questions.*

The Surong’s entire body suddenly spasmed. If one looked closely, faint dark lines could be seen rippling beneath its fur as Boros’s cells spread like a living plague through muscle and vein. The convulsions lasted only seconds before the creature went limp and collapsed onto the table.

It lay still.

…

Then—a twitch.

Boros knew it was not dead.

*How curious.*

He closed off his vision and extended his senses instead. In the quiet darkness of his mind, he could clearly feel the Surong’s position, its racing heartbeat, and the exact distribution of his own cells now woven through its body.

The creature’s heart stuttered—then steadied.

*Like a plague. Its life and death are now in my hands.*

Alistair turned, noticed the Surong standing once more, and could not contain himself. A loud, triumphant laugh burst from his throat. He flicked back his hood, revealing a refined man in his sixties with medium-length gray hair. His slightly disheveled face with bags underneath his eyes was visible, but he still carried the sharp lines of old nobility.

“It survived… it actually survived!” Alistair stepped closer, already raising a hand to cast a diagnostic spell. “I wonder what form of mutation it has undergone—”

Rocks and pebbles suddenly condensed in the air above the Surong’s head and fired forward like bullets.

Alistair reacted instantly.

“Barrier!”

A translucent blue veil snapped into existence around him. The stones hammered against it and clattered harmlessly to the floor.

The Surong, sensing failure, turned to flee.

“Alter Weight.”

The creature collapsed mid-stride as if the very air had grown crushing. Yet its body began to change visibly—muscles bulging, size increasing, and bones thickening with grotesque speed.

Alistair’s eyes gleamed with manic delight.

“Alter Weight.”

“Alter Weight.”

“Alter Weight.”

Each casting slammed down harder. The Surong was finally pinned flat against the stone, unable to twitch.

Alistair broke into hysterical laughter.

“It’s finally done! I’ve finally found it!” He paced excitedly, his voice rising. “With this summoned creature’s flesh I will create an army of living supersoldiers who can adapt—no, mutate—on command! It might even extend life itself. I could reopen my old research…”

Still laughing, he walked to a shelf and retrieved a larger enchanted cage. He carried it over to the pinned Surong.

“This enchanted cage should hold you nicely.”

After securing the creature, Alistair moved to his desk and picked up a small earring set with a glowing red gem. He channeled mana into it until it flared.

“Stone, come to my laboratory at once.”

A voice answered from the gem.

“Yes, High Priest.”

Moments later, a firm knock sounded at the lab door. The Overseer—Stone—entered and walked straight to Alistair, who now stood in front of the enchanted cage, staring at the mutated Surong.

“I greet the High Priest.”

Alistair gave him an impatient glance.

“Dispense with the formalities. We have known each other far too long.”

Stone offered a short nod.

“So why have you called me, sire?”

Alistair pointed at the cage.

“Look. What do you see?”

Stone studied the creature with a puzzled frown.

“Sire… it’s a Surong.”

Alistair’s smile widened.

“Wrong. It is a Surong that ingested the flesh of that creature and survived. Not only that—it underwent a transformation of some kind.”

He raised a hand and cast again.

“Alter Weight.”

The Surong visibly swelled in size, muscles straining, mana pathways flaring as it tried to condense pebbles for another attack. The enchanted cage immediately disrupted the spell.

Stone stared, dumbfounded.

“Sire… is this really the result of your experiment?”

Alistair’s smile turned smug, almost reverent.

“This is only the beginning. Not only can it increase its size—we have not yet seen the limit—but its mana pathways have become greatly developed. You understand what that means, don’t you, Stone?”

Stone answered at once.

“Yes, sire. First thing tomorrow morning I will inform the cult members and have them come forward for further experiments.”

Alistair’s smile softened into something almost benevolent.

“Stone… you should know better. We are simply sharing the blessings of our lord with them.”

Stone bowed his head.

“Yes, sire. It will be done.”