---D-Day+109, Dherus 16th, Sunday Night---

---Castle Abives---

*zkraaak*

“Fall-eeyah!”

Slash Sanctity, the holy sword, to my right.  Lightning swings across like a scythe.  Biting and frying both horses and knights.

*furoozh*

“Die-aiyee!”

Sweep Tormentor, the demon blade, to my left.  Fire lashes out like a whip.  Burning and boiling armsmen and sellswords.

Now that priesty’s dead, my mana is listening to me again.  So I’m pouring it into both superswords.  Overcharging their aspects and turning my little part of the battlefield into a muddy thundering scorching hell.

Within a dozen paces of me, there is only death.  Puddles of water, blood and gore dot the slippery landscape.  Rippling under the rain.  With the sun down the effect is enchanting.  Like dozens of molten mirrors strewn across the ground.  Reflecting the harsh light of electric sparks and warm glow of hungry flames.

Beyond my corner of perdition, I hear the crunch of hundreds of men and unmen.  Waves of metal crashing into each other.  Moans of the damned.  Screams of the dying.

[Super Senses] shows me the charge is uneven.  Soaked ground and little light has caused units to fall out of sync with each other.  Some surging ahead.  Others falling behind.

The odor trifecta of blood, piss, and shit, returns like an old friend.  Though joined now by the smells of wet earth, burnt mana, nicked metal, torn leather, and broken wood.

Why are there corpses and parts of corpses already scattered around me?  Well, turns out, there's a significant number of "faithful" among the opposition.  And watching their bishop die?  Caused a fair number of them to break ranks and run straight for me.

Which, in turn, forced their commanders to order a charge.  Trying to keep the battle lines at least somewhat intact.

On our side, Red countered with an advance to.  Requiring a fighting retreat from me, until the cavalry gets here.  Protecting shell shocked Mel and outraged Frankie.

"[Sea of Death]" "[Dying Wind of Teryn]" "[Fell Flames]" "[Siege of Bone]"

Yep, while I'm slicing and dicing with my martial art, [Storm of Steel].  Priest-wife is unloading her magical arsenal on the stupid berserking bastards.  Hey, it's their own damn fault for pissing off an ex-oracle.

Oracles are the church's version of wizards.  Thick grimoires with large mana reserves.  Nukers that can heal.  And also the best fucks the faith can provide.

Yeah, it's a shitty world.

*spish* *sposh* *spish*

Finally!  Hear the wet march of bone as pikes slide past on my left and right.  The skeletal warriors carrying them smoothly step around me, staying in formation.

Whew!  Saved by the cavalry, or in this case pikery.

With screams and curses, the remaining foiled avengers turn tail.  Fleeing towards an incoming block of their own pikemen.  Leaving dozens of their fallen comrades to bloat and rot in the rain.

Well, hehe, would be a shame to break up friendships.

"[Rise]"

…

Eh?

Nothing happened.  Why did nothing happen?

"Master!"

Turn to see Frankie mounted again and with a hand on the reins of Mel’s steed.

"Ushi?  Why isn't my necromancy, uh, necromancing?"

My priest-wife gives me the, "you're cute when you're dumb," look.  Yes I named it.  Why?  Because the girls give me that look a lot.  No, I don't know why.  They must just be, uh, confused by my brilliance.  Yeah, that must be it.

Come on guys…  Stop laughing.

Imaginary people are mean.

"Remember, master?  We expected the church to send priests who could disrupt undeath magic."  Sounding motherly.  "You're going to have to wait until we reach the clergy who are chanting."

Open up [Super Senses] and realize she’s right.  The itch isn’t completely gone.  Just much much weaker.  Like a bug bite instead of a rash or burn.

Damnit.

Hear new horns and drums from our side.  Frankie looks over her shoulder then back to me.

"Master, Lady Edelys is sending reinforcements to the left flank."  Points in that direction.  "I will return Lady Melicent to the carriages.  Please give the left your aid!"

Huh?

"Oh, right, sure."

Priest-wife gives me a glowing smile and leans way over in the saddle.  After a deep kiss, she turns around and begins riding towards Red’s position.  Pulling Mel's mount along beside her.

…

You know, I'm not really stupid.  It's just that a lot of what I know?  Doesn't do me any good in isekai land.  Thank god I can pick up things pretty quickly or I would be truly-

*BOOM*

Whip my head around to see an explosion above the pikers that rescued me.  Fire falls, but doesn’t reach the undead beneath.  A faint wall of mana deflects the artillery spell.

Turning more, I zoom [Super Senses] in on Blue, Silvie, Sim-Fer, Oda-Mar, Val, the just arriving Frankie, and several undead warpriests and battlemages.  All of them shine with burning mana.

Feel the huge incantations they are casting.  Outgoing spells filled with destructive energies.  Incoming magic being deflected or dispersed.  Like an invisible artillery duel.

A series of lightning strikes on the right flank.

Well, mostly invisible.

Should really probably learn some of those spells, at some point.

Thanks to our rings, I can tell six of my seven wives are behind me.  Back near the carriages.  One though, Hitomi, is on the right flank.  Her aura feels hard, sharp.  Bet she's doing the ninja thing.

Only brought four mistresses this time.  Mel, Lula, Silvie, and Val.  The yanese sisters and others stayed in Lions Keep.  Giving them deniability and keeping them safe, in case things go horribly wrong.  Which, coincidentally, they have.

With my cheat, I can see better than most during this stormy night.  Though with buffs and “blessings,” the dark for many is not as dark as you might think.  Just, well, pretty dark.  And it's not like my undead actually need light.  They don’t even have eyeballs.

Before me, skeletal warriors engage in a “push of pikes” with tourinese sellswords.

Forward ranks hold the pikes underhanded.  Jabbing and pushing at the enemy in front of them.  Behind, pikers use an overhand grip.  Stabbing and whacking at the enemy from above.

Wearing armor over the front of their bodies.  The sharp tips of enemy pikes literally push against them.

Inevitably, some points find weak spots in the metal.  Or gaps along joins and joints.  Piercing into the vulnerable flesh beneath.

And while my skeletal pikers may only have three ranks compared to their nine?  They also don’t have any “flesh” to pierce.  Takes a luckier, or harder, hit to break joints or crush bone.

That damned metian chant is not only keeping the dead, well, dead.  It's also making it harder to “heal” the not dead, dead.

But my minions are tough.  Missing an arm?  Leg?  Head?  No problem.  As long as the mana keeping it “alive” hasn’t been messed up too much.  And that lost part didn’t have its "soul."

Usually I find their “cores” in the head or chest.  Sometimes, however, they end up elsewhere.  Even among the fingers or toes.  No, I don't know why.

Sigh.

Really need to find trustable info on necromancy.  And Frosty said that Magdalen bitch cannot be trusted.

Among the pikes are "helpers."  The living ones are using swords or crossbows.

Swordsmen hack away at any pikes that get past the first rank.  Trying to cut off their heads.  Also squirm under the pike line.  Slashing and stabbing at enemy piker's legs and feet.

Crossbowmen fire their bolts at short range.  Able to even punch through plate when that close.  Unfortunately, for them, a bolt lodged in a skeleton doesn’t do much.  Unless it's a very lucky shot.

And the not living ones?

We didn’t bother making swords or bows for the low ranking skellies.  For the former, swords are actually kind of expensive.  For the later?  Yeah, while skellies can see?  After a fashion.  Doesn’t mean they can see that great.

Most couldn't hit the broad side of a barn.

Instead, have my helpers armed with axes or maces.  Axes for hacking away at errant pikes.  Axes and maces for getting down low and going after the enemy’s legs and feet.

Hear yelling and screaming from the living.  Voiceless moans as cold as the grave from the not.

A swordsman, under the pike line, gets his bowels opened by an axe.  Skeleton collapses after a pike swings down hard enough to crush its skull.  An only breastplate wearing pikeman struggles to stand with a broken off pikehead in his thigh.  One undead, run through by a lucky strike, hangs impaled, on its killer’s pike.

*thoom*

Rumbling to the side pulls my attention away from the struggle of flesh and bone.

Beside the skeletal warriors is a unit of golems facing more pikemen.  Here the pikers have all switched to underhanded grips and focus on pushing my automatons over.

Watch one golem get tipped back far enough to fall.  Joining another that had been toppled earlier by two body magic users.  Who are now trying to dismember it.

As soon as one falls, swordsmen descend.  Hacking and stabbing at joints.  Unfortunately, for the living.  These constructs also lack flesh.  Even worse, there is stone instead of bone beneath the metal.

Should have brought hammers and picks.  Chisels even.  Guess they really weren’t expecting golems.

A couple already lay in pieces, but over thirty remain.  And they are extracting a terrible toll from the sellswords.

Yes, golems are relatively slow and easy to dodge.  However, a dense block of pikemen is not conducive to dodging.

A piker with body magic hits hard enough to crack a golem's leg.  A sparking blade chops down, turning a swordsman into smoking pieces.  Pikes get bent so far they snap.  Swordsman on a fallen juggernaut's head, screaming and stabbing over and over into its smoking eyes.  An automaton lifts up a crossbowman and squeezes.  The doomed sellsword bursts.  Fountaining blood and gore.

The sights, sounds and smells overwhelm me.  The brutality.  The stupidity.  At once familiar and strange.

Carnage.

Can almost hear the staccato of falling shells again.  Feel track grinding over rubble.  Smell the hot dry dust and exhaust.  See that scared boy with the rifle.  Watch him turn…

Horns and drums sound once more in the distance.

Shit!  I'm supposed to be on the left flank!

Summon a Dark Charger that rises beneath me and immediately starts galloping.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!

Dash around chaotic melees between the living and undead.

Tourinese pikes breakthrough a unit of skeletal warriors.  Living shadows charge in to plug the gap.  A nobleman smashes a golem to the ground.  Only to be sent flying out of sight by a skeletal giant's huge studded club.  Halberdiers decimated by a rain of ghostly skulls.

The damp earth is littered with the dead and fallen.  Bodies and skeletons creating trails that map the strife. 

Race over a slight rise and see something that I can't quite believe.

Frazur, my shadow dragon.  A draconic soul suspended between life and death.  Existing between the material and astral.  Lies pinned to the boggy soil.

His presence barely registers in my mindscape.  Almost like our connection is weakened.  Somehow interfered with.

Ballista bolts stinking of holy magic have pierced his wings, chest, and legs.  There is even one through his skull.  Lizard lips is back to normal size now.  About fifty feet from snout to tip.

Lightning flashes and thunder cracks.  Lighting up the scene.

A swirling melee circles him as tourinese knights and paladins clash with death knights and skeletal beasts.  Keeping them from rescuing the winged tyrant.

A knight’s glowing lance punctures a shadow warg.  Shattering it.  One death knight gets unhorsed.  Pinned to the ground by a spear as a paladin closes in.

The itch returns with a vengeance.  In fact, the entire area reeks of holy magic.  Weakening my undead and strengthening the metians.

In front of Frazur’s head stands a giant of a man.  Must be seven feet tall and is covered in golden armor from head to toe.  Is this the first time I’ve seen a human in full plate?  Must have cost a fortune.

His hands wrap around the hilt of a huge greatsword.  The point of its blade thrust into the ground.

Divine mana practically boils off him.  And that sword.  Feel it's will from here.  Definitely a supersword, like mine.  A legendary weapon with its own mana pool.

Behind the giant are the ruins of several wagons.  Their ballista, broken.

Two kneeling priests flank the paladin.  Those must be why the interference is so strong here.  This time I'm ready for it and unleash my aura before the curse’s grip tightens.  Letting it blast outward to its normal size.

Paladin poster boy's head snaps my way.  And the priest on his left collapses.  The other one though holds on and continues chanting.

Had no problem breaking debuffs before.  Simply drowned them in my mana.  But what these metians are doing is different.  This isn’t a quick cast debuff.  It’s channeled.  You have to keep it on, ergo, the chanting.

Get enough folks with enough juice doing it?  And you can cover a whole battlefield.  Which is exactly what they’re doing here.  Mobile AOE buffs for your guys and debuffs for theirs.

And while I can’t break their curse?  Can sure as shit fight it.  Weakening the [Gaze of Metia] plus giving my boys a much needed boost.

One skeletal beast bites down on a lance.  Distracting the horseman enough for a dire wolf to pull the knight off his saddle.  A death knight, pinned by a spear, grabs a paladin and throws him overhead.  Soaring into the legs of a charging warhorse.

Without slowing I breakthrough the circling tourinese.  Eviscerating a knight and beheading a paladin as I pass.

My Dark Charger slides to a stop and I unsummon it.  Dropping me to the ground next to Frazur’s head.

“Hey buddy, sorry I’m late.”

A voiceless rumble.  A tyrant’s chuckle.

~Archon.  I worried you had lost your invitation.~

“Well, you’ve saved my ass enough times.  Figured it was my turn.”

More thundering laughter.

~It is indeed, Archon.  It is… indeed.~

“So, who’s this douchebag?”

~Does it matter?~

“Good point.”

*drip* *drip*

The rain suddenly stops.  As if the earth itself is holding its breath.  Mister Paly speaks, of course, with a heroic voice.  You can practically hear his legendary deeds in every word.

“Viscount Jon Barton!  By the Articles of the Mandate!  And the Legacy of Metia!  I proclaim thee judged and decreed, enemy of the faith!  And enemy of man!”  Wow, an echo?  That voice carries a long way.  “Any who shelter or aid thee shall share in this judgement!  And earn the goddess’s righteous wrath!”

He spins the oversized pigsticker and holds it pointing up, over his head.  Bright blue flames spread until the entire blade is on fire.  Would swear the He-man theme is playing in the background.

"I am Rainard Mottel Kendall, Lord Paladin of the Universal Church!"  Starts doing fancy sword moves.  "And I vow your sacrilege shall end on this day!"

Oh no.  He's got a sword!

Wait.

We've all got swords!

Right.

*woosh*

Water and mud flies as paly leaps.  Almost instantly appearing before me as the two-handed burning sword swings across.  Aiming to decapitate me.

Instinct warns not to jump back so I drop and slide right instead.  Slicing at his stomach with Tormentor as I pass.

*skriii*

A scratch left behind.  The golden plate not letting my infernal sword cut through.

*voosh*

Paly turns his swing into a chop and I intercept the flaming blade with my lightning sword.

*gong*

Instead of stopping his cleaver, I'm sent sliding across the sloppy muck.  Paly tumbles backward.  Ending up on his face in the mire.

"Careful golden boy.  You'll have to polish your armor!"

Okay, so holy swords repel each other?  Haven't heard that before.  Paly seems upset too.

"Scum!  Corrupting the incorruptible!"  Eh?  "Another crime thee shall answer for!"

“So that was… inconceivable?”

…

Damnit, wish Hitomi was here.  She would find that hilarious.

Mister gold lunges and I've got a face full of paladin again.

This time paly tries to impale me.  Though being somewhat death averse.  I deflect with Tormentor and stab with Sanctity. 

*kang*

No strange effect from his divine blade meeting my infernal sword.  Except for the blue and red flames getting even brighter.

*skrilch* *zkak*

"Agh!"

My divine blade finds a join and digs in.  Finding flesh and delivering some voltage too.  A gift for paly to remember us by.

*kunk*

A retaliating kick sends me rolling across the sludge.  Followed by a slash that sends a wave of blue flames to drown me.  This may tingle…

…

"Huh?"

Don't feel nothing.  The shadow armor I was using does not like holy magic.  So, out of the blue, Frazur and Agrag showed up with a new suit for me.

Reminds me of the golem's but with fewer spikes.  And made out of stuff with a lot of bad mojo.  Whatever that means.  Agrag comes up with the weirdest quotes sometimes. 

Blue flames gutter and die.  Without leaving a single mark on me.  And paly seems even more disgusted by the fact I exist.

"Is there no end to your blasphemy?"

Wait, so it's my fault I wasn't burned to death?  Well, sorry if my lack of flammability offends you.  You know what?  Fuck you too.

*soom*

Send mud flying as I hurtle through the air.  He pivots his blade in a circle.  Tilting it over my arm as I try to shove both superswords into his chest.

*krack* *ziiizh*

Hot, hot, hot!

Paly's sword splits the metal protecting my upper arm and pierces in.  Turns out?  Burning metal?  Pretty fucking hot.

He spins to the right.  Ripping his sword out of my arm and turning into a savage chop to my back.  The backplate holds but I can feel the dent golden boy's left in it.

"Enough, villain."  Hate it when they smirk.  "The goddess is with me!  This world was never meant for thee.  Accept your demise and, mayhaps, the divine will spare XXXX."

The world comes to a stop.  There is no light.  No sound.  Only a dead motherfucker who dared speak my son's name.

My voice turns colder than a tomb as I turn every ounce of my focus and mana towards this fucking paladin.

"Where did you hear that name?"

Dead boy seems to misunderstand. 

"You face the hand of a goddess, heathen.  Condemned from the start."  Spreads his arms.  "Yet the divine is merciful.  Fall to your knees and beg.  Mayhaps she will not strike the boy down too."

"Where.  Did you.  Hear that.  NAME!"

Fire and lightning from my superswords blast paly.  Knocking him back.  Can hear him snarl as he speaks.

"Damning not just yourself but also your son?"  The fucker tsks.  "What a poor father thee must be."

You.  Are.  Dead.

He slashes and sends another wave of fire my way as I start walking towards him.

Chop with Tormentor to disperse the flames.  A slice with Sanctity blasts paly and his greatsword with more lightning. Leaving sparks behind.

The mana ocean within me feels barely touched.  I don't know, entirely, what dual-cultivating is doing to me.  But, at the least, it's made my mana ocean even larger.

Dive back in and counter with Sanctity.  Ready this time so the bounce doesn't send me flying.

Ram Tormentor into his crotch but the plate again resists me.

He slides his blade up under my arm but I parry with Tormentor and punch him in the helmeted face with the hand holding Sanctity.

His blue armor suddenly gets blinding and I'm blasted back several paces by an explosion of blue flames. 

Can hear the smugness in his voice.

"Heathen!  I am graced by the goddess!  You have no hope against-" *slich* "me?"

The sound of metal slicing through flesh and bone somehow cuts through the chaos of the battlefield. 

We both turn to see my death knight, Drabek, holding a sword in one hand and a… head in the other.  The head of a priest.  The priest that was chanting [Gaze of Maetia].

Frazur laughs like jabba the hutt.

Can feel the AOE debuff fading.  The curse drops from a burn to a bug bite again.  Paly feels it too.

“Noooo!  She promised me vengeance!  She promised me justice!”

Before my eyes the glow of his golden armor fades.  Revealing numerous nicks and scratches.  The plate looks less like gold now and more like dull brass.

He seems shorter too.

“Damn you!”

Golden boy jumps at me and brings down his cleaver in an overhead arc.  I cross Sanctity and Tormentor.  Then double slash at the greatsword midway up its blade.

*krazhing*

Snap!

The large blade splits in two.  Its will fades and a blast of mana rushes past as the legendary sword dies.

*skriiilch*

Ram both Sanctity and Tormentor into the paladin’s chest this time.  The now tarnished plate offers little resistance and both swords run him through.  Sprouting out his back.

Paly drops the remaining half of his greatsword and falls to his knees.  Only held up by my grip on the superswords.

*skriii*

Twist the blades buried in his chest.

“Tell me.  Where you heard.  That name!”

*cough* *cough*

Paly’s helm is still on but I can hear the bloody coughing inside it.

“Doesn’t… matter… now.”  More coughing.  “Gave up… everything.  Only… to fail.”

Lift him higher with the swords.  Mana surges.

“Tell me!”

Laughter among the coughs.  Dark red fluid begins to seep out of joins and joints.

“Ha… like I… would forget…”  More coughs.  Shaking his head.  “Doesn’t matter…  sold myself… to her.”  A trembling gauntlet reaches up and touches my cheek.  “You c-can’t save m-me th-this…”

Paly’s hand drops and his body goes limp.

What the fuck was-

At that moment, I feel a spike of glee from Hitomi.  Turn and see she’s in among their casters now.  Wreaking havoc with their mages and clerics.  Our right flank finally broke through.

That bug bite level itch fades too.  The last of the holy curse dissipates.

Huh.

Look back at the dead paladin hanging on my swords.  Feel his spirit.  It's still in his body.  Not even trying to leave.  Just sitting there.  Watching me.

“Can’t save you?  Ha!  Sold yourself?  So?”  Lift the body on my blades higher.  “I’m the Beast, motherfucker!”  Look up at the clearing sky.  “Hey Metia, watch this.”

I tap into the deepest depths of the mana ocean within.  

“[RISE]”

Hitomi leaps into my arms.

"Jon-kun!  Did you see how I shish kabobed that general?"

Nod my head and kiss my ninja-wife as we reunite by the carriages.

Seriously, she's dressed up like a shinobi.

Once the holy curse faded and I could raise the dead again?  The battle was over.  Thousands of dead rising up around them completely broke the enemy’s morale.

Only the templars and "faithful," among the armsmen and sellswords, fought on.  But a few hundred fanatics did not last long against thousands of new undead.

Those that routed did not fare much better though.  My skellies and specters hunted for eight-hours.  Red figures only a few hundred, at most, escaped.

Frankie walks up and holds my hand.  That sparkle is in her eyes again.  After a kiss, she looks past my shoulder.

"Master?  Who is that?"

I turn and look at the ex-paladin-lord behind me.

Used to fight my necromancy.  Trying to force it to create what I wanted.  But after a lot of experiments?  Realized I should just let the necromantic energy do what it wants to do.

That's how to get the most "interesting" creations.

Like whatever this guy is.  He soaked up a ton of death mana.  So much that he seems even stronger than Drabek.  Not quite a skellie.  Not quite a vampire.  Definitely not a shadow or ghost.  Definitely a material undead.

Hmm…

Maybe a lich?

The once golden armor still covers it from head to toe.  Yet now it's tarnished with rust, stained with blood and scorch marks.  His greatsword is in one piece again but it's aspect has changed.  Smoke instead of flames randomly rises from the huge rusted and nicked blade.

Did I create an undead supersword?

The giant bows.

"Greetings Lady Ushinua.  I am the father's abomination, Lord Reign."

Don't look at me like that.  He named himself.

Frankie squints at the big guy and I would swear he squints back.  Then, as god is my witness, they both nod at each other, in sync, and turn my way.

Oh, and Reign says he got my son’s name from that bishop Frankie killed.  Apparently he got it from Frankie when she was still an oracle.

My women gather and all get kisses and thanks.  They've again exceeded my expectations.

Notice my loli vampire staring at "Castle" Abives.

"Val?  Something on your mind?"

My vampire queen turns to me.

"Master?  May I keep it?"

Eh?

"Keep what?"

She turns and points at the fort.

"That."

"Uh, why?"

Looks at me with sad eyes.

"You saved me.  Elevated me.  Empowered me."  A pause.  "Yet Tourin is my home.  I do not want to cross the sea."

Pull her into a gentle hug.

"Are you sure?"

Nods.

"Un.  With the wars we will have time to grow.  To prepare."  She hugs me back.  "I want to fulfill my lord's dream.  Build a place where the dead don't have to hide."

Huh.  Well this is the boonies.  It's not like I can bring thousands of undead with me to fantasy china anyway.

Why not give them a shot?

"Father?"

That word really sounds weird coming from an undead giant.

"Yes?"

Lord Reign kneels.

"Please, let me help her."  Bows his head.  "Give me the chance to become… better."

Yeah, this feels really weird.

"Well I guess this is as good a place as any.  Gotta be better than hiding in a dungeon at least."  Which is where I was going to send most of them.  Dream a little about what this place could be.  "What's the name of this barony anyway?"

Lili answers.

"Transylva"

?

Hitomi faces me.  She looks surprised too.

"Transylvania?"

Lili tilts her head.

"Uh, no, my lord.  Transylva."  She looks at the forests and hills.  "There is a local legend that Saint Sanriel named the region after a part of your world.  Said this area reminded her of a book she loved."

Ha!  A vampire in transylvania.  Must be fate.  Well, might as well go all in then.

"Alighty then.  Val?  Rule the Barony of Transylva in my name."  Her eyes shine.  "I will leave my forces here, under your command."

She jumps on me and squeals with glee.

"Un!"  Kissing me over and over again.  "By the time, you return, I will have, a kingdom, waiting for, you!"

Stop her smooching and cup a cheek.

"Don't need a kingdom.  Just want you to be safe and happy."  Notice a village on the horizon.  "Oh, and spare those willing to serve.  Harvest those who are not."

She licks an extending tooth and says seductively. 

"Yes, master."

Put the goth vamp down and turn to my lady general.

"Red, let's only bring about half we brought, back.  Leave the rest here for Val."

My knight-wife nods and begins shouting orders.

Within an eight-hour, and with Castle Abives already burning behind us, we point our carriages towards Lions Keep.

Hehe, isekai transylvania.

Maybe they'll open a hotel.

Hitomi must be thinking the same thing because, as she snuggles into my side, I hear.

"Bleh, bleh bleh."

Hehe.