Chapter 105: Force of Nature

Solomon could feel himself changing. It was like the first time he changed into his minotaur form, only significantly more excruciating.

He could feel his bones twisting inside of him. They were trying to rearrange themselves, giving him a new shape entirely. It nearly cost him his sanity to fight against his body’s change.

But he couldn’t hold on forever. Time was already running short.

Mercy carried him all the way to the far side of the island, towards the rocky lands.

Perhaps Solomon would have allowed his mount to carry him further, but he finally reached the point of no return.

He practically flung himself off Mercy’s back before everything went to hell.

The steed was a loyal beast. He naturally tried to go to the side of his master, but Solomon held up his hand and shook his head. It was the last sane action he was capable of taking.

Mercy froze in his tracks. Despite everything telling him to go towards him, he begrudgingly refrained.

Solomon barely resembled a human now. Moreso, a mass of molten rock come to life.

His clothes had long burned away or melted beyond what was salvageable. His body ballooned in size as his head grew to resemble that of a bull.

He screamed in agony as a column of flame engulfed his body.

Mercy reared up on his back legs out of fear, backing away from the raging fires with wide eyes.

He raced around the flame, trying to glean any sight of Solomon and ascertain his well-being.

A deep roar causes the rocks on the ground to rumble.

Mercy firmly planted his hooves in the ground. Wide-eyed and confused, the horse trembled like a dry leaf.

The flames dispersed not long after they appeared.

In their place, they left behind a uniquely unsettling creature.

Mercy had no idea how to process what he was seeing. It felt like Solomon, but… it looked nothing like him.

The creature was well over fifteen feet tall. It’s head was still that of a great bull. The horns on it’s head pointed into the sky like long, wicked weapons.

It’s frame was powerful and muscular. Through the cracks in its rock-like skin, rivers of dark red magma flowed towards the litany of organic eyes dotting it’s chest.

On it’s back, wings of crackling flame burst to life. It had the legs of a bull; all four as muscular and powerful as the last.

His tail was a slender, barbed weapon that looked as if it could puncture any simple armor with ease.

He turned his head to the sky and let out another deep roar.

Without warning, he tucked his head down and rushed forward.

He crashed into the nearest wall like a wild animal. Bashing his head into the rocky surface over and over and over again.

Against his fury, the wall crumbled like a house of cards. Behind the shelter, an unsuspecting earth wolf was just waking up from a short nap.

It lunged at the creature invading it’s hovel out of instinct.

Disaster caught the creature by the neck and held it up high above his head.

Placing it’s other hand on it’s tail, it pulled in opposing directions, ripping the wolf apart with it’s titanic strength.

As the creature’s innards spilled out onto the ground, they were set ablaze by the licking flames at Disaster’s hooves.

He dropped both halves of the creature before him, and bellowed loudly to proclaim his victory, as well as his unending appetite for more destruction.

Dark clouds rolled in from overhead. A heavy rain started to pour from the sky.

“Oh my… this little island is… *burp* starting to spit out all sorts of unnatural horrors… I should get off this rock before I wake up with one of you little beasties in my undergarments.”

Disaster slowly turned around, his eyes aglow and a deep growl emanating from his throat.

Wobbling on his own two feet a short distance away was a much smaller being. An old human in dirty robes.

In his free hand, he carried a glass bottle that was already half empty. In the other, he held a simple walking stick.

He let out a grotesque burp that was followed by a drunken bit of laughter. “You know, my wife used to say I had my own little beastie in my undergarments, you know?? Eh, but that was a lifetime ago… and back when I still had a good back.”

Disaster let out a cantankerous huff.

In his hand, a great black sword appeared that was at least three times taller than the drunken old man. The weapon was just as molten as the rest of the creature’s body. As the rain fell upon the blade, steam began to fill the air.

The old man finally seemed to sober up a bit.

…And then he took another deep swig.

*Burp* “Ahh… my jokes not to your liking, eh? Don’t you worry, you’re not alone in that… my wife never really liked my jokes either.”

The creature lowered it’s head and rushed forward.

In a mighty downward swing, it brought it’s great weapon down atop the head of the old man. The ground underneath shook terribly with the force of the clash.

When the dust cleared, the old man could be seen holding up his walking stick against Disaster’s great blade. His arm did not bend or strain under the weight, and being attacked hadn’t inhibited his ability to drink either.

Disaster became even more enraged. He bared his teeth furiously as embers billowed from his nostrils.

“Moody little thing, aren’t you…” Abel wobbled. “Don’t like my jokes, don’t like that wall…What do you like?”

The old man looked down at the bottle in his hand.

Pursing his lips curiously, he held out the bottle in front of the creature and shook it. “Hm??”

“GROAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!”

The shockwave of the roar shattered the bottle instantly.

Master Abel looked down at his hand, crestfallen and still incredibly drunk.

He looked up at the creature responsible with eyes brimming with fury. For a moment, they even possessed a uniquely unsettling golden glow.

“Can an old man not have anything in this fucking world…? Will the heavens consistently send something to fuck me over at every opportunity??”

There was an explosion of golden light, and the creature of molten rock was sent flying over fifty feet in the air.

It hit the ground hard with an agonized roar.

Disaster hit the ground hard with his fist. He struck it several times over, even alternating between smashing his head into the rubble.

He was like a child throwing a grossly dangerous tantrum.

Once he got back onto his hooves, he roared at the old man once again, his sword growing even larger in response to his terrible rage.

Abel held up his cane.

Twisting the shaft, he pulled on one end and removed a glimmering white blade that was as thin as a razor.

Discarding the wooden sheath, he held the blade out in front of him in an elegant stance.

“You’re angry? Well so am I, you big bastard. Let’s see whose anger matters more..!”

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