The Mook Maker

I knew I wouldn’t be able to make progress quickly. 

 

Realistically, I wasn’t able to, but it still upset me just the same. 

 

Learning any language was always a long, tedious process that could take months, possibly years. It took time, and great effort, especially in extraordinary circumstances such as mine. It had happened in the past, even if it was in circumstances less surreal than mine. I heard of castaways washed out on some foreign shores, people who eventually learned how to speak about some local exotic tongue they had never heard in their lives before that. I, similarly, tried to learn something I had no basis on.

 

What made my situation quite different was the - my - small army of monsters I was getting uncomfortably close with quickly, and the complete lack of goodwill from the side of the natives who had attacked me almost on sight, regardless of my menagerie being around or not. 

 

This unexplainable, and quite infuriating, hostility, was the main reason I couldn’t simply accept that getting back home was forever out of reach. Here and now simply wasn’t the nicest place and time to be in. 

 

I had no choice, of course. 

 

Without the means to communicate with the people that inhabited this area, and possibly their rulers, if they cared to listen, brokering the peace was next to impossible. Their reaction, their motives, and the ways to placate them, were incomprehensive to me, at least at this moment. 

 

As it stood, the only person I could talk with was this single prisoner. He was simply too scared, too erratic, or too confused to speak coherently in his own tongue, let alone help me understand it. 

 

It was very obvious I would have difficulty interrogating the man even if we both spoke English, let alone with this massive language barrier between us.

 

He definitely tried to tell us something, though. I was certain of it. 

 

I just couldn’t say what it was. Maybe he pleaded for this life, maybe he tried to communicate with something more complex. I wasn’t able to tell whether either was true. While I took no pleasure in his fear, it was still much better than the usual rage and aggression I had got from everyone else thus far.

 

He spoke in quick bursts, and when untied, tried to gesture wildly to everyone around, in an almost hysteric fashion.

Listening to his tirade I gained an impression that he could speak two different languages, or two noticeably different dialects of one, and tried the second after the first failed. Lacking the foundation to compare it against, I could only guess, of course, but the shift in pronunciation was unmistakable.

 

It took at least an hour to calm him down enough to start with the very basics, and even then things didn’t work as well as I imagined they would. 

 

The gestures and pointing didn’t get me very far. Even the introduction part of this exchange didn’t turn out to be as simple as I initially hoped.

 

The most common words I’ve received were ‘Ah-ma’ referring to either me or my monsters, interchangeably, despite my repeated attempts to introduce us, and ‘an-gin’ which could have meant anything between their expression for human, an actual first name, a profession title, and possibly many other things.

 

I wasn’t able to figure out the very basic vocabulary, expressions like ‘you’ or ‘me’ or ‘here’ or ‘there’ despite all the effort put into it. The language was far from easy, or at the very least not intuitive, almost like there were multiple variations for a single expression, which was hard to wrap my head around. 

 

It wasn’t something I could grasp over the evening. 

 

My feelings about referring to myself as “the master” in this conversation were mixed too, but it was too late to stop. Their native speech, being as complicated as it was, provided enough challenges already. 

 

A few exchanges of words later, I wasn’t still cracking the puzzle they created.. 

 

“Any ideas?” I asked my monsters.

 

I would not send them away, keeping at least the outspoken ‘Alphas’ nearby, both as my protectors and to have them learn along with myself. They cooperated, but not to great effect.

 

“Perhaps he doesn’t want me to eat his liver.” Tama provided unhelpfully. 

 

She actually tried doing the same thing I did, and I thought their names meant something actually very different to the locals, confusing the poor merchant, or whoever this guy was, to no end. Or he just didn’t like her name. Perhaps it sounded more like his favourite “ah-ma” expression he used so commonly.   

 

Perhaps the expression literally meant a monster. 

 

There was always the chance that we indeed inspired connections to some local myth, but we could have as well been local myth manifested. None of my followers were exactly mundane. 

 

But Tama had a point. Maybe this was as much about trust as it was about patience. I wasn’t sure how I could build the former when I sometimes struggled with the latter, but I certainly had to try. Our not quite willing guest would have to stay if I was going to learn anything from him. 

 

“I guess we can’t rush this part. They did not build Rome in a day either.” I said, slightly resigned: “Could we feed him, perhaps?” 

 

“Yes, Master.” Tama acknowledged., “There is the meat and humans carried something with them as well. We are heading to recover a few supplies we left at the old stops.” 

 

My monsters had hunted down another deer after all, which was at least something humans could eat. Attempting to use Narita’s power didn’t seem like a good idea. Her ability had a different effect on humans than it did on us, and conventional food would be useful either way.

 

I tried not to think about the implication of the fact that the life draining magic didn’t consider me a human. 

 

“Can you prepare him a meal? Without poisoning him in the process, preferably.” I asked.

 

“I believe we can, Master.” Tama answered. 

 

“Human-things can eat venison.” Narita added. She pointed out the catch of the day, being butchered at the edge of our camp, making me wonder how fast would my monsters wipe out the wildlife in the general area. 

 

Only Mai said nothing. 

 

I almost forgot about our captive for a minute, when I returned my attention to him. He seemed more confused after the short exchange I had with my ‘Alphas’, though he, of course, didn’t understand us any more than we understood him. 

 

Looking him in the eyes, I lowered my gaze slightly, with a small nod, while placing my hand on my chest. I said: “Thank you for your cooperation.”

 

It befuddled him a little, of course, but it wasn’t important. The mere fact he wasn’t trying to kill me just yet was a small achievement on its own, I silently assured myself. I haven't had this level of luck with his countrymen so far.

 

“Take him away gently. Please accommodate him in one hut. Give him food and water.” I asked. 

 

It startled a human a little when Tama lifted him back by his hand. It didn’t trigger any extreme reaction from his side, which was good. 

 

Then, suddenly, Miwah announced: 

 

“There are more humans, Master.”

 

She was staring in the horizon ominously for the moment, something both Miwah and Tama had a tendency to do when recalling their smaller kin from the greater distances, which of course caused Tama to space out for the eye-blink probably experiencing the same thing my werewolf did. 

 

I never understood the limits of their communication. I was planning to ask about it later.

 

I didn’t manage ask what was going on, and where, as abrupt red mist - an unmistakable manifestation of the spawning process - materialised two ‘Eviscerators’ next to me, both immediately letting out the typical cry:

 

“Master! Master!”

 

I knew immediately what happened. 

 

It had happened many times before, and as hard as it was being used to them, with them being recreated alive and whole a mere moment after they were slain, sometimes quickly enough to rejoin the same battle they died in, sometimes after some delay punishing frequent rebirths. 

 

I knew that someone was hurting my creatures, and I didn’t like that. 

 

Another ‘Eviscerator’ was spat out by the ruby mist. 

 

I looked around.

 

Our human prisoner had no chance of knowing what was going on and panicked, attempting to flee despite being surrounded in the camp filled with the countless monsters. Mai seized him immediately, dragging the struggling and yelling man away while I looked around, attempting to locate the attackers. 

 

Then the mist spawned ‘Purifier’ for a change. The small vulpines hugged me almost immediately, sounding somehow excited and relieved while as affectionate as usual.

 

“Master!” 

 

“We can deal with them.” Miwah said confidently. 

 

Our new camp was in strangely organised chaos, with dozens of my furry followers milling around to do myriads of the small tasks like preparing food, making tools or improvised shelters. I caught the glimpse of a few of them pulling the large bedroll from the overturned wagon, too. 

 

No sign of immediate attack on us, no blasts of fire by the ‘Purifiers’ out in the woods. 

 

I realised there were far too many monsters around to account for all of them. A dozen of them could easily slip away without me finding out. They were simply far too many and far too lively to keep track of.

 

Still, a few more of them materialised, streaming to replace the ones lost in the fight against an enemy I hadn’t even seen. 

 

One. 

 

Three.

 

Five. 

 

Then there was this notification, all in its monochromatic dullness.

Skill “Slayer of Men” Lvl. 23 ” gained. Skill “Great Devourer” Lvl. 9 ” gained.

 

My power gave birth to another batch of monsters, four each of their respective kinds materialised from the ruby haze erupting on the ground nearby, others celebrating their creation with cheers as they did so many times before.

 

“For Master!” 

 

I blinked the annoying window away, and tried to ignore the new spawns gathering around me as well, expecting finally some explanation for what happened. 

 

“Humans are fleeing!.” Miwah said, with a toothy grin and tone of her voice reflecting the triumph.

 

I was about to ask her for some form of report, but a new notification invaded my view.

 

Skill “Scorched Earth lvl.22” gained.

 

Suddenly, there were four more ‘Purifiers’ immediately vying for my attention. 

 

“Let them run! Don’t pursue them!” I ordered immediately. It wasn’t hard to guess that they would try to run the humans down.

 

“Yes, Master.” My ‘Alphas’ confirmed. 

 

I lowered myself to welcome my new monsters to the fold. 

 

As much as I always thought about restraining the rate at which I created them, I often ended up doing the opposite, only bolstering their numbers in the end, noticing the contraction between my words and my actions only much later. Now, I genuinely felt pleased by our rising numbers instead, even if I knew I shouldn’t. 

 

There was a certain level of safety in numbers, brought by the destruction of my furry menagerie’s mere existence. 

 

I would, however, have to work this out later. 

 

“Could you tell me what happened and why we have … twelve … more beauties?” I asked carefully, while gently scratching one of the newly formed ‘Eviscerators’ without even realising what I was doing. Even referring to the new monsters as ‘beauties’ was entirely unintentional. It was just something that escaped my mouth. 

 

The mini-werewolf didn’t mind this at all. It just inspired the others to demand being properly welcomed to the horde.

 

“There were more humans back in our old camp at the shrine, Master. All soldiers, armed and armoured, save one.” Miwah explained. 

 

“How many?” I asked. 

 

“Around thirty of them, Master.” Tama supplied.

 

I paused, thinking, considering my options, entirely ignoring the sea of fur and claws. It would seem that the locals sent some force after us on their own. There was an army, or some armed group, out there. My scouts told me about them, and they knew about us. The captives I released wouldn’t get through the forest that far, and even if they did, the response wouldn’t be that fast. 

 

It made me worried.

 

That wasn’t the end. I sensed it. 

 

“Is the Pagoda still standing?” I asked, imagining it going down in flames from the work of my pyromaniac foxes. 

 

“Yes, Master.”

 

“Have some of yours climb the tower to serve as lookouts. You can tell us if someone approaches.” I ordered, fully determined to make use of their ability to communicate over longer distances even without understanding the limit of it. 

 

“Yes, Master.” 

 

“Do you have someone out there to retrieve what little supplies and loot there is left?” 

 

“Yes, Master. Fifty-six of us in total.” 

 

This information made me pause for a second time, driving the point home that the numbers of the monsters was far higher that I could keep track of, as I stood amid a lively group of creatures I have difficulty to count, yet at least sixty more were roaming the woods. 

 

Still, the idea of more humans threatening us seemed to speak to me more soundly. 

 

I gave a few more of the new monsters a warm hug they happily accepted.

 

They were mine.

 

And out there, there were more humans, hostile, ready to fight us. Dichotomy of my own actions came to me once again. I have had the desire to stop the circle of violence, yet I ended up doing something that fuelled it, throwing more aggressive creatures into the mix.

 

But I started to like my monsters, my furry menagerie, I once feared. I could feed them, thanks to the newest abilities of my reptilian followers. I just needed to get hold of the agricultural plants and fuel their growth with the plant magic of the ‘Corruptors’.  

 

I considered bolstering our numbers even more to prepare for more attacks. If the humans didn’t want peace, I wouldn’t sacrifice myself and my monsters to uphold it.