There were many wondrous sights to see in the world of Aecledolon; gorgeous, untouched valleys, towering mountain ranges, and deep ocean trenches. One would certainly appreciate the exotic red color of the seas or the blighted plants in the forests. Indeed, Aecledolon was a well-known tourist trap and visitors were welcomed with open arms. Though they weren't likely to leave. 

It was in one such famous tourism location known as the Voidlands that a battle was occurring, as a tall humanoid figure clad entirely in black armor swung its sword at a fleshy monstrosity, only for it to ignore the damage entirely slamming its appendage into the armored figure's chest throwing it back and into the ground. It stood again and swung again at the monstrosity and suddenly it seemed to give out, falling apart into a pile of oily flesh. The figure slowly fell down, exhausted. It tried to get up, holding itself up with an arm but falling back down as its arm gave out. Perhaps accepting its end it looked at the sky...and died. There was no amazing comeback or reinforcements for this figure and so it died, alone. However, it was not the only one to fall, in the surroundings similar scenes played out, though mostly the armored figures seemed to be winning, though their opponents weren't all fleshy monsters. Some struggled against skeletons, others against flaming humanoids. Regardless, the corpses accumulated rapidly, until at some unseen ended. 

The armored figures retreated south, cutting down stragglers and pursuers as they went and the rest of the things on the battlefield vanished or just collapsed. Others still, froze, and then wandered off, disappearing into the freshly bloodied mists of the Voidlands. That was not all though, as all the corpses now gave off mana as they decayed, even the ones that didn't typically decay such as bones. The sheer concentration of normal mana contadicted the void mana always present in the Voidlands and under these conditions a small pocket of mana where the void mana and regular mana mixed formed, just above an armored figure's corpse. 

The result was the miracle of a spirit being born in the Voidlands and its intelligence was nothing special. As was typical of a newborn spirit it floated there. Doing nothing. There was more than enough mana from the corpse for the spirit to feed itself and even its instincts that would have otherwise motivated it to find food were thus dormant. After all, a spirit of its age and power was not exactly known for needing large amounts of mana. Thus, that was where the spirit stayed, content to float there doing nothing. And perhaps that was where it was going to stay forever, or at least a long time, as the surrounding corpses released enough mana for it to live. 

*47 years later*

The corpse had by now rotted and lost most of its mana, yet there was still some left. Truly, in life, the corpse would have likely been an impressive figure, though now it had been reduced to a food source for a spirit with as much intelligence as a regular plant. None, basically. The spirit had never been threatened in the Voidlands, and so the vibrations that shook it now finally awakened some of the its instincts. 

It floated a couple millimetres away from the corpse and then stopped, satisfied with its preperations. The vibrations, seemed only to get stronger and the spirit was flung around like a leaf in a tornado, and if not for it lacking the necessary senses or feelings it would have vomited. As it was though it flew around unable to attempt any resistance nor feel anything towards its situation. Around it though the source or the sources of the vibrations revealed themselves as hordes of monsters, ranging from wolf looking things to grotesque combinations of body parts, met in battle. One from the west and one from the east, though fortunately none seemed to take any interest in the spirit that was even now but an extremely pale ball of whitish light that threatened to blink out of existence at any moment.

It, of course, was unable to understand the scene that was unfolding in its vicinity, as the hordes collided against each other splattering blood everywhere as they mindlessly tore each other apart. There was no semblance of order to their ranks, even pouncing on each other. Despite the fact that they were all dying they showed no particular interest in stopping, continuing to tear into each other with reckless abandon until finally there were only corpses and it had returned to silence. This made no difference to the spirit as its hunger, if it could be called such, overrode any sense of fear its instincts may give it, for to it this scene of carnage was just another food source. It was not wrong in feeling so, as while none of the beasts had the intelligence to intentionally cast magic, they still possessed mana...and more.

Unintionally perhaps, but the spirit was absorbing the lingering souls and memories of the beasts, and so, after 47 years of existence the spirit passed an important milestone that the earlier batch of corpses had been unable to provide; their souls and wills having faded before the spirit was born.

Intelligence +1


Your intelligence has reached the necessary requirements.

Granting access to the system.


About the author


Bio: I like dragons. Ergo, I refuse to even put them in my novels unless they're suitably OP. I'm also perpetually tired and lazy. That is all.

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