Rules of Biomancy: A LitRPG Healer Fantasy

The tarrasque had been brought into play.

A month had passed since Elijah made the deal. He had joined the men and women of Serenova at three battlefields after that. Two had been won. The third had been sitting at a stalemate for a full week. Countless had died screaming, and more joined them every minute. Elijah's body kept flooding with Mana, the dead fueling his every move, and yet it couldn't hold the enemy from getting ground.

So Vera had made the call. With the help of Lord Greyhelm and another dozen dwarven mages, the tarrasque had joined the battle. Elijah had known of its approach for a full day. The soldiers on both sides knew it as well, for their lungs had started to feel sluggish. Their bodies knew what neared their position, as if the world had warned their subconscious.

Tensions had kept growing. Moves had become more desperate. Charges became more frequent, as mages pelted the line with magical destruction of all kinds. Glimmers of every color, screams that no human throat could normally make, and the shaking of a crumbling earth beneath their feet, and yet it meant nothing once those ungodly horns showed up on the horizon.

'The feast begins!'

The voice of a mad woman rattled inside Elijah's skull, as the multi-ton beast of destruction quickly approached. With a height of fifty meters, a length nearly twice that, and the width of a temple, it was no surprise that the enemy began to flee once the beast picked up speed. The claws ruined the terrain as it ran, the rumbling of the battlefield became akin to an earthquake, and the paralyzing effect of a tarrasque's eyes only continued to worsen.

Elijah couldn't breathe as the armored body passed by him, at a speed meant to be impossible for a monster that size. Those on Serenova's side who didn't run fast enough, either too paralyzed by fear or too trusting the beast would avoid them, were crushed.

Then it passed the front line, where thousands had battled a minute before, and the true slaughter began. Some collapsed outright, unconscious from lack of air and blood flow, and others had the misfortune of meeting the sharp teeth of the beast.

A dozen lives were lost at a time, the maw of the tarrasque more than wide enough to contain them.

Elijah cursed his connection to the monster, for he felt how the teeth and tongues crushed the armored men and women into paste. He heard the echoes of their screams, felt the blood drip. He knew how the tarrasque enjoyed every second.

'Stay in place.'

Some enemy mages further away began to break out of their frozen states, as the screams of horror pierced through, and bolts of light shot through the air. All were directed at the beast. Nobody cared for the people beside it.

"Return fire, you idiots!" one of the commanders on their side shouted, loudly enough for most to hear. Those words, alongside the fact that the tarrasque had been ordered to ignore those wearing Serenova's regalia, made it possible for the common soldier to obey. "Give them everything you have!"

By some miracle, archers, warriors, and mages attacked. Acid and arrows flew together, while swords cut through the armor and flesh of the enemy. Some fought back further along, far enough away to partly resist the deadly paralysis, but it didn't matter.

'Tasty.'

Elijah didn't know if it was Dawn or the tarrasque who held that opinion. Neither did he truly care, as both consumed the flesh of the fallen without pause. Mana streamed endlessly, Elijah's eyes started glowing green, and he could only continue his work in the vain hope that he wouldn't burn inside out.

"Enough!"

Amidst the screaming, the deep roaring, and that ticking heart of the giant beast, a new voice entered. Far away, in the backline of the enemy, Elijah could feel a new presence.

A pure, golden aura, carrying the same intensity as Alin's.

'I smell fear.'

Without his consent, he smelt it too. That air of trepidation, the scent of prey that knew it could not flee, and the sole piece that knew it could fight back. A Mage, one of Castilla's heavy-hitters, had joined the field, and tides seemed like they would shift slightly less in Serenova's favor.

Then the air became sickly, and he knew the meaning of fear.

"By the will of the lords, be cleansed!'

Aleksi grabbed him hard, tearing out a piece of the ground and forcing him down. It barely helped; the golden pillar from the sky could be seen regardless. Elijah saw it through the giant's body, the light so intense that neither armor, flesh, nor bones could stop the rays. People screamed, loudly and briefly, before it all got drowned out by the loud bass of burning judgment.

Elijah's eyes burned. His eyelids turned to a crisp, his skin turning red and peeling, but he withstood. The scale of destruction caused death on all sides, his puddle of Mana reservoir turning into a grand ocean, and the only thing he could do to not explode was to expend everything his body could take.

His skin regrew the layers burnt, fighting against the golden light, and every person around him was granted the same treatment. Most had already died, but the few stragglers he could sense were impaled by the roots. They barely felt it, as the plant growth invaded their bodies and tried to save whatever remainder of flesh and organs that hadn't burnt, as the pain had already reached the peak of what the human mind could process.

'Weak.'

The voice of the tarrasque broke through the unending bass that had threatened to burst his eardrums. With it, a loud chomp came as well, as the unhinged jaw of the tarrasque finally closed down on the golden mage. In the radiant light, the human had not expected the beast of legend to keep standing, nor did he expect it to approach.

'Old and decrepit,' the tarrasque continued, rolling around the dead corpse inside its mouth. As the golden pillar from the sky disappeared, letting his sight be regained, Elijah was forced to witness the beast masterfully tearing the mage apart piece by piece, until only unrecognizable chunks remained. 'Honestly, you humans can be so frightful in your resistance, but all you have to give me are these little bags of old blood and gore. Most of these fools haven't even eaten well enough to be fatty. Pillar, tell the controller that I want something better tasting next time.'

Elijah couldn't find it in him to reply, as he looked at the field in front of him. Two thousand had died in the past days of fighting. Over fifteen thousand had been present at the finale. Less than two hundred souls were left breathing, and, of those, Elijah doubted a hundred would return home.

Even the tarrasque, casual in her voice, had lost countless tons of body weight. The thick carapace on her back still released smoke as the flesh boiled from the sheer heat. She had taken the brunt of the attack, and yet she couldn't seem to care less. Elijah could see in her mind how she had walked along, snapping up corpses on the way while approaching the heavy hitter.

A monster of legend indeed.

Now, when no more enemies were left to fight back, the time for regrowth had arrived. With the help of hands that no eyes could see, the bodies of the dead were dragged towards the tarrasque, reaching the legs of the beast before rolling across the surface and under the hard exterior. Biomass to assimilate and use for fuel. A near-perfect refinement that most creatures of this world could only dream of.

Elijah doubted that any corpses would remain, once the tarrasque had finished her work.

"Maybe the world doesn't want me wearing armor," Aleksi mused, as he helped Elijah out of the hole. Elijah didn't offer a comment, though he did look the giant over. The small patches of fabric that hadn't burnt off completely were on their way to do so. "Even the metal buttons are liquified, you know."

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"I can see that," Elijah finally replied, being careful to avoid the patches of earth that were still on fire. Instinct briefly made him worry about dry grass burning too, as it hadn't rained as heavily in the past day, but his eyes reminded him of why he wouldn't have to worry about it.

No blade of grass, no yellow flowers, and no small animal that had called the top layer of dirt their home had survived in a three-kilometer radius. Everything, down to the smallest bit of green, had been burnt away, the aftermath of the golden attack leaving nothing alive. If not for Elijah being shielded by Aleksi, who somehow had resisted the damage through his regeneration, even his magic might not have been enough to survive.

As for those on Serenova's side that did…

Lord Greyhelm, who had been furthest back, had been able to shield himself and his men with thick layers of stone. Many still needed aid, as the heat had melted their rebreathers and burnt their flesh, but they could still stand. Some of the human mages, who hadn't been far from Elijah, had barely held on as well. Some had Affinities that allowed them some degree of protection, some had been surrounded by enough bodies to be partly shielded, and… some had just been lucky.

Others hadn't.

"Seems like he protected everybody he got his eyes on," Elijah commented, looking down at Paul's corpse. The only reason he knew it was the Barrier Mage was due to his position, and the slightest bit of purple that remained on the back of the crumbling bones. "Saved a dozen lives instead of his own."

Maybe the old mage had tried to keep his own body intact as well. Elijah couldn't say, and neither did he have time to question the possibility, as he and Dawn went through the survivors as quickly as he could. He saw full-body third-degree burns, most facial features gone, and some who could only be deemed alive by the smallest twitch of the neck.

Elijah wished that this horror was the first of its kind, that it would be a one-time occurrence, but he knew in his heart that this would be the first of many.

Anger briefly ignited within. The mage with the golden aura knew the consequences of his actions. That pillar of light had carried enough power to hurt the tarrasque, at the cost of nobody around him being spared. He had willingly killed thousands of his men when granted the chance of taking down the beast of legend. Perhaps some logic in the fanatic's head had made that a worthwhile sacrifice.

Coward.

"Try to breathe calmly and evenly, or your skin will tear up again," Elijah soothed one of the fallen, as he spent over a thousand Mana to regrow the layers of tissues. It was dirty, painful work, the body fighting him and trying to mold it all into scar tissue. It sat tight on the remaining flesh, stopping movement through torturous sensations, but Elijah fixed it. He refused to leave the man in such a state. "Keep still, so I can make this— Aleksi, keep him down."

Pain, confusion, and a clouded mind stopped them from being rational. The regrown tongue and healed throat allowed them to scream. The eyesockets that were refilled gave them the damned chance to see the horror of the world around them and the state of their body.

"Calm yourself," Elijah ordered again. It didn't work. He knew it wouldn't, but he had to try. After another twenty seconds of work, he granted the man respite through a sedative, letting him breathe evenly while falling into a deep slumber. "He won't die before somebody else gets to him."

They moved on to the next person and the next one after that, until every survivor on their side was either breathing or dead from their injuries. Elijah wished that the former were the majority, but the burns were too severe and the number of people too high. He couldn't be everywhere, and the ones that had aided the soldiers in the days prior had all succumbed as well.

A hand on Elijah's shoulder reminded him to keep moving.

As those who couldn't walk got rounded up, either carried by Aleksi or moved on slabs of floating stone, somebody asked about the survivors on Castilla's side. Enemy mages had also protected soldiers with all their might, after all, and some must've still been breathing after the destruction.

"... They all died," Elijah lied, looking down at the young soldier who had asked the question. With the skin regrown on his face, Elijah knew the kid couldn't be older than twenty. "They were closer to the blast."

The kid accepted his words. Those who could still stand knew the truth, but they didn't call out his lies. They knew what this war entailed.

At the very least, the remainder of the enemy forces joined the dead within the hour, as the tarrasque finished the job. Every corpse, every pound of flesh, and every inkling of life was removed in a ten-kilometer radius.

It barely satisfied the stomach of the monster, but it accepted the meal regardless.

'It has been so long since I fought anything,' she regaled on the trek back to Kulvik. Each of her steps made the ground shake just a little. Elijah could see the tensing on those he walked beside start to worsen, as the days passed. 'My soul was forged alongside my body, with one purpose and one purpose alone. To devour, to consume all that is living, and to spread out until none are left.'

'A grandiose goal,' Elijah remarked dryly, his eyes glazed over.

'Isn't that the greatest type?' the tarrasque questioned. 'A goal you will never fully achieve, allowing you to always move towards it? A journey of potentially infinite length, allowing you to experience joy and fulfillment until the very end?'

'But if you know you will never reach it, does it not make the journey pointless?'

'The devouring of all is my destiny, but that does not mean that only the last bite will be succulent and filling.'

Elijah didn't talk much about the tarrasque for the last part of the journey. Nobody spoke much at all, letting the air wash over them. Only when the city appeared on the horizon, and a force went out to meet and escort them closer, did the younger hearts start to lighten.

"What do I say to my mom?" a younger girl murmured. "I promised her that I would tell her all the stories of bravery and glory. Not… this. Not this. Nothing like this."

For a brief moment, Elijah relived holding her down to stop her from tearing out her own eyes. Not everybody had appreciated the curse of seeing what had remained of the crumbling field.

"Tell her you can't put it into words right away, that you need time to think," Aleksi instructed in a practiced tone. "But do find others you trust to tell the whole truth. Others you know have experienced similar things. Keeping these types of secrets close to your heart does nothing good."

A calming voice with words of comfort. They wouldn't help forever, but they helped for now. The shaky youth knew that they had a task ahead of them. Elijah knew that most would be sent out again, before the month was over, but that was an issue for later. Right now… Right now, they had time to rest.

Elijah wasn't granted the same mercy, however.

Harper had been ready at the entrance to the city, the bags under her eyes larger than ever, and her face in a mild scowl. Even her hair, which had been professionally maintained for as long as Elijah had known her, looked ready to fall into chaos.

"Castilla has sent word," she reported, as they were brought to the castle. "They want a meeting."

"Meeting with whom and about what?" Elijah asked.

"Vera, preferably, or whoever we trust to speak on her behalf," Harper began, leading them up the stairs and into the royal garden. "The topic would be the war and the possibility of it ending."

"They're hoping for a surrender?" Aleksi questioned, clearly finding the idea absurd.

"The letter was rather vague about that," Vera replied before Harper had the chance. The queen was found inside the royal garden, sipping at cold tea while looking about as tired as the Illusionist. "They'll most likely attempt some form of a mutual end to the war, where we gain some rights and they gain the final say in everything and everyone."

Elijah didn't doubt it, and he knew that nobody else in the castle expected anything different. Why was it even brought up?

… Oh.

"The people know that Castilla wants to meet," Elijah predicted, the grimace on Vera's face confirming it to be true. "How?"

"Rumors, officials somehow hearing about the proposal and confirming it, and then the news spreading faster than my people had any chance of stopping it," Vera said, waving a hand around while taking another sip of the tea. From her face, it seemed to taste terrible, making it unclear why she'd gone for the second tasting. "While I want to refuse it outright, people are starting to get angry. Despite the waste of resources that it's going to be, we have to honor the meeting, and we have to do it in a public fashion. That means recognizable faces, a display of confidence, and a quick response."

From the eyes on him alone, Elijah knew he was going to hate this.

"So he and I are going to meet some representatives somewhere," Aleksi said, when Elijah just stared at the queen tiredly. "Who else is going?"

"Recognizable faces mean that you have brought along a royal," Vera replied. "Not me, though I'd almost rather prefer it than sending out Louis. He's too young, but he's a diplomat for the crown, officially speaking, and he's not taking no for an answer."

They all knew that no other alternative would be accepted. Of the two royals left, one was expendable.

That thought alone left a bitter taste in Elijah's mouth.

"Who else?" he asked.

"The original plan was to bring Fade as well, but other matters are taking up her time," Vera continued, not offering any explanation on what those matters were. "Instead, we have to bring one bodyguard. Somebody who is relatively unknown to both the people and Castilla, but powerful enough to fight and protect if needed.

"Forgive me for this, Elijah, but I've heard reports of one who fits that description."