The First Cultivator

Ulvandia grunted as she hauled the unconscious creature toward the pit. She managed a meter before she stopped and looked around, sure that she was spotted. Her paranoia was useless. The area was almost entirely clear of the abominations. Their security was non-existent. Not unexpected given the natural protection the mists provided. Still, she couldn't help it, besides the creature she was hauling was a heavy son of a bitch and frequent breaks were needed. She should have chopped off its limbs to make it easier, but she needed it mobile. Another pull, and she tumbled backward, gasping. She instantly regretted that. The smell from the pit was much more pungent here. If she had eaten anything recently, it would have immediately vacated her body in the most violent manner possible. With a surge of eldritch power, she closed up her nose. The air now left a foul taste in her mouth, but at least it was tolerable.

Another ten anguishing minutes later, she was at the edge. She collapsed in a heap and glanced over the edge. Instinctively, she pulled back, shuddering at the sight. This next part was not going to be pleasant. First, she shoved her fingers into the creature's neck where she deposited her earlier gift. It only took a minor change that would render the gland dead in a few hours. She had to be ready by then. With a surge of eldritch power, thin wings sprouted from her back. She floated down into the pit along the edges with a graceful leap. She wanted nowhere near that massive maw, which continously sawed back and forth, eager for its next meal.

The body of the ancient was a black mass with the consistency of rotten fish. Pudgent ooze gushed between her toes as her full weight pressed into the ancient's flesh. Ulvandia shuddered as she began morphing her tentacle arm. It stretched to almost ten times her body length. Before, it was thick and sturdy; now it was thin and worm-like, with various sensing organs all over its length. Grimacing, she wiggled the tip of her new arm into the god's flesh and made it dig deep while simultaneously having it branch out. The change was easy. The potency of the corruption was much stronger here, fueling her alterations. She dug into the ancient's flesh more and more, sending out sensors in all directions. She had to be ready. If she failed here… well, it wouldn't be a big deal. She would either wait for another beast wave or capture another pawn. But it was gross! She didn't want to be here a minute longer than necessary.

Tendrils bore into the fleshy mass with ease. The dead ancient's flesh offered no resistance. Whenever she found a fascinating organ or something similar, she would leave a branch there to observe it. Ulvandia marveled at what the eldritch energy could do. Too bad she would have to give it up. There was no way she would be stuck in the mist her entire life, dependent on the blood of a dead ancient to fuel her body. She had elves to mutilate and toys to enjoy.

A faint cry came from far above the pit, and Ulvandia's heart skipped a beat. Had she been discovered? She glanced up, ready to flee at the first sign of trouble. Instead, she saw a figure toss itself into the pit. She smiled. It appeared her new friend had woken up. As she expected, without that trinket in its head, the call to be consumed had overwritten any thoughts of self-preservation the creature had. The falling creature grew larger as its improvised diving lesson brought it closer. Fifty meters away, a loud wet thwack sounded as the creature did a belly flop right into the gooey flesh. A large splatter of disgusting flesh erupted from the impact site, splashing her right in the face. Ulvandia shrieked as she frantically wiped the decaying matter from her face. The black goo smeared further on her skin. The creature took no notice. It instead scrambled desperately toward the maw. Her eyes now free of the muck she gave the creature a death glare. If it weren't going to be turned into food for a god, she would have torn it apart herself. Maybe she could find its soul after this and shit on it a few times.

Ulvandia's plans of defecating vengeance were forgotten as the creature threw itself into the god's maw and quickly expired. The interior of the ancient lit up like a thousand bonfires being simultaneously ignited. It was nearly overwhelming. She expected something, but not this much. Quickly, Ulvandia harvested a sample of each organ that responded to the soul being consumed. If the organ was small enough, she managed to grab the entire thing. For nearly a minute, the internal workings of the ancient operated before going dormant again. She now had what she needed. It was time to leave here and build herself a new body.

***

Ulvandia mentally glared at the soul. She desperately scraped at the surface, trying to find a flaw she could exploit. Nothing. It was impervious. Dejected, she stashed the soul in its temporary housing inside her. The soul's core seemed indestructible if you weren't a god. They were like well-forged steel balls that she broke her metaphorical teeth against as she tried to take a bite. If she could just figure out how to do it, then her power would be unrivaled. The consumption of a soul's potential was the embodiment of life itself. It was no wonder the eldritch power caused rapid mutations and gave vast power. It appeared to be beyond her. Any hope of rivaling that vast ocean of power she had felt in the Magebane was out of reach. But, she refused to give up. She did have some success after all.

Ulvandia regarded the three souls housed within her body. The one she had been chewing on, for lack of a better term, was the first soul she captured. It was that from a simple, corrupted beast she managed to find crippled on the flesh path. The changes had not been kind to it. The beast could do little more than flop around, like a fish out of water. The soul was small and almost in the same condition she had obtained it in, except for one difference. Initially, the soul had an outer layer. It had been thin and well… tasty. The organs she had assimilated from the ancient had eagerly consumed that free power. Too bad it had been thin, almost non-existent, she was uncertain where the power even went. Now she was left with this hardened leftover, she could do nothing with.

The other two souls she had were brimming with power. She had wanted to use the beast soul to figure out how to fully consume a soul before moving on. After this last month of effort, she was ready to concede. Whatever the leftover soul was, it was beyond her.

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The next soul she had obtained had been from a recently corrupted young human and was twice as large as the beast's meager soul. Ulvandia had encountered her on the flesh road as she made her way back out of the mists. Such a weak specimen was not one she could pass on. Killing the corrupted child had been somewhat tricky, to her embarrassment. She had been forced to expand her body to house all the changes she had been making. Now she looked as if she were pregnant with twin adult men. Her stomach was so large that it was dragging on the ground, and she was forced to grow multiple legs to move her girth. It was unseemly but necessary as she worked to develop her new power.

The last soul she had obtained just this morning, nearly three months after she left the pit containing the ancient. She had to pass on many opportunities given her physical condition, but finally got lucky. The mist must have expanded to a small village, for an influx of altered humans was mindlessly marching to become food for the god. All of them would have easily been able to kill her, except for one. Truly he must have pissed off someone to be changed in such a way. He was reduced to a giant foot with a small old man's head resting atop it. The creature had two spindly arms that could barely move down the path. She had burst out laughing when she saw it. It made her body seem elegant. The body had been lacking in every regard, the soul, however…

Ulvandia glanced at the old man's soul. She could see that impenetrable layer deep inside, but the outer crust was thick and juicy. Ready for the harvest. It was larger than the child's soul and the beasts combined. It strained the limit of what her body could contain.

The child's soul's outer layer was significantly larger than the beast's, but way smaller than the old man's. Ulvandia tapped a finger to her chin as she pondered what it all meant. It was likely that the inner part of the soul, which she couldn't consume, was the most potent section. The part that created the corruption. Before, she would have said that was the immortal part of the soul, but she now knew that immortality was more of a relative term. Being consumed by a god appeared to be a way to annihilate a soul. The outer part seemed more receptive to her efforts.

Ulvandia thought about it for several more minutes before shrugging. There was one way to find out. She metaphorically bit down on the child's soul. A wave of muted thoughts and feelings erupted as she ate. Each bite was a delectable taste of the child's brief life. The pain of her father leaving when she was five, a bitter flavor that rolled around on the tongue like a sour aftertaste. The joy of making her first friend was a sweetness gone after a brief explosion. The pain of losing her mother and the unborn child she carried to the creatures of the mist was a salty, hot explosion that sent Ulvandia shivering. She knew that sensation. It was one she enjoyed inflicting on her pets most of all. This time, she experienced it far deeper than ever before. Glorious. The meal of the child's soul was absolutely delicious.

Ulvandia lay on the fleshy path, smiling as she processed the child's soul. Each stripped layer was an explosion of flavor. She loved it all. Ulvandia went to take another metaphorical bite only to grind against that impervious shell. The soul had been reduced to its core. Only now, as she was done savoring her meal, could she feel the changes. The power in the soul's outer layer had seeped into her body. She was stronger, faster, and more resilient. However, such an improvement was wasted on her current form. Ulvandia smiled. This would work. Ulvandia frowned at this power. Referring to it as power seemed so mundane. She would call it experience. She now knew what that outer layer was. It was the experience that a soul obtained during its life. Naturally, a human soul would be greater and experience more than a mindless beast. This would be doubly true for elves. Elves lived longer and naturally would have a soul of the highest quality, the racist elf concluded. She would need more elven souls. A lot more. This experience would significantly increase her power, but she doubted it could rival the Magebane's. She needed allies. Allies, she controlled. Ulvandia smiled as the solution presented itself. If she were to be a monster… why not be a mother of a species of monster? She had souls stripped down to their essential cores. What better building material to make a new race? The answer to that also came quickly, elven souls. Which, of course, would be the best in existence, and only a crazy person would challenge her with that conclusion.

Now, there were two things left to do before she could leave the cursed mists. She needed a new body and to purge her reliance on the corruption. Purging the corruption would be relatively easy. She would perform her final changes at the edges of the mists and spend her stored corruption for it. Perhaps she would snag a quick meal and then eat the old man's soul to help fuel her new body. The new body… that was the real tricky issue. She needed a large body to contain all the necessary parts to consume a soul's experience. That took a lot of space. She refused to be ungraceful, large like some brutish giant. Ulvandia was rather proud of her elven physique. Besides, when she came for the elves, she wanted to know it was her coming for them. She needed to be able to restrain the intelligent races, since their souls fled quickly after death. She would be able to hold two mature souls within her after the improvements to her new body. That outer layer did take up a lot of space. So, she needed to keep a supply of live food ready for use. And just like that, she knew what she wanted. Nature had already provided the perfect example after all.

A month later, a monster emerged from the mists. It was an amalgamation of spider and elf. From the waist up, Ulvandia was mainly herself. Her long blonde hair fluttered in the breeze, and her pale, flawless skin reflected the light. Long, pointy ears emerged from her golden locks that were perhaps longer than before, a desirable elven trait she couldn't resist adding. And of course, physics-defying breasts. She had artfully woven a silken cloth around her bountiful mounds. She was, after all, a classy lady. That was where any resemblance to an elf ended. Her body rested atop a black carapace with an enlarged abdomen. Attached to the body were eight dexterous legs armored in thick chitin. Inside the abdomen were all the parts required to consume a soul and the necessary bits to produce eggs and silk. The silk would restrain her meals, and the eggs could house soul cores for her future children. She was perfect.

Ulvandia dashed from the mists as the last corruption seeped out of her. Her body now ulitized the Experience she consumed from souls. A vast improvement. She did leave her eldritch core in place, empty of all power. It might come in useful in the future. Ulvandia gleefully laughed as the sun warmed her face, and she distanced herself from the mists. It had been a long time. Now she could start her revenge. She would ensure that the legacy of her fallen house was not forgotten. House Arachne would be a name that all would soon fear.