So I decided one last stocking stuffer, right before Christmas.
This one kind of just flowed out of me, which is how I managed to get this one out.
Working on madman's Retirment, so a new chapter should be out soon hopefully.
Merry Christmas everyone!
The last thing Sethorbjorn saw was the ax flying at his head as he cackled wickedly, delighting in his incoming death.
Finally! A truly worthy death!
Sethorbjorn had long searched for a worthwhile death, one not only placed within a good cause, but a death at the hands of a worthwhile foe.
And behold! A criminal minotaur twice his size, and adapt with an ax, one that he used to cut him down.
He did not care, for he had already sent a message ahead of time, calling others better suited for hunting beings such as this.
He merely had to injure it enough so that the beast would be forced to temporarily retreat.
And he had done so, managing to nearly tear off the minotaur's arm, for it was hanging by a few strings.
And thus-
Swish
-Sethorbjorn found his worthy death.
Sethorbjorn had expected an apparatus of death to come retrieve him.
Would Thanatos come to him, guiding his soul to the underworld for his judgement?
Would his death be great enough to be personally escorted by the Valkyries to the eternal battle that was Valhalla!?
What he did not expect was to encounter the God he had faithfully served in death.
He could mistake him for no other being, for it was his one and only god.
The thin snout, and the two great crests upon the back of his head.
The two goats that followed the God.
His very presence which came with the spark of sulfur and storm.
The glimmering and taut muscles.
A was-sceptre headed by a dual bladed axe which hummed with power, proof that he alone ruled the storms of chaos!
It was Sethor, god of storms and chaos, uncle to Jorvus Mars, the great warrior himself. If Jorvus Mars was the god of legions and their commanders, then Sethor was the god of great warriors, people who stood alone at the pinnacle, beloved by adventurers.
The very being whom Sethorbjorn had been named after, his name being the stone of Sethor in it's direct translation.
For he was just that, the stone which his lord cast down at the enemies of the empire!
But why was his lordship here?
His son may judge the dead, but Sethor had no such role.
Perhaps...
Perhaps he was here to test him!
To see if Sethorbjorn was worthy of his lord's name!
Sethorbjorn understood, as he pulled out his twin tomahawks, ready to prove himself to his God, to prove himself as a warrior!
Sethorbjorn charged with vigor, roaring as he lunged forth, practically foaming at the mouth for the chance to personally be tested by his lord!
The lord of chaos and storms put his hand up as he cackled happily, but commanded, nonetheless. As much as I would relish in the chance for us to test your mettle child, that is not what I'm here for currently.
Sethorbjorn lowered his axes in mild disappointment as he skids to a halt, but regardless, heeded his call.
Do not worry, you have earned your right to enter Valhalla, and the entrance is rightfully yours, should you wish to depart now. However...
The bestial god's lips curled back as he gave a fierce grin, his gleaming fangs bared for all to see.
...Should you be interested in a new form to enact my crusade once more, I would gladly accept your service once more.
Without hesitation, Sethorbjorn kneeled.
From the day he was blessed by the god of storms and chaos, he had always been in the god's service.
But more combat?
That was hardly business, but pleasure!
There he is! God, I love your everlasting vigor. Very well then. So here's what's going to happen...
pop!
The shell of a rather inconspicuous egg hatched cleanly, with one claw puncturing the shell, as the rest of the paw attached to this singular long claw followed suit, as three more equally thin and long claws followed through, tearing through the shell with vigor.
A tiny head popped through the shell, a long thin snout popping through first, as two large horns also broke through the shell.
Sethorbjorn marveled at how strong he felt, stronger than he had ever been in his prime, and yet how thick this shell had felt, or how cleanly these new claws were capable of cracking through such a thick object.
His tongue felt weirded than it had ever felt before, as Sethorbjorn watched as it flickered in and out. A long thin, tubelike tongue.
An anteater's tongue.
Indeed, the lord had said that he would be reborn as a kaiju, an individual which lurked within what was described as the "Hollow Earth".
Sethorbjorn did not know these words, nor did he care.
He had been sent here with one purpose, and one purpose alone, the only one he cared about.
Kill, and kill, fight until you can fight no longer. I leave the rest to you.
His lord had left it up to his interpretation, his freedom to fight as he wished in this bizarre land.
Wonderful.
He did mention something weird...
There was supposed to be a "system" but you don't need that, do you?
Never!
Good! You're a true warrior, your instincts are enough!
I will leave you the guide though, if only for fear of your mind cracking over time.
I do not crack!
I believe you.
He still had this guide however.
Not that Sethorbjorn minded.
This guide was adept enough.
<How ready are you ready to kill!>
It was a good guide.
Something easy to start.
<Indeed! Let us start with an entree!>
<Head eastward, there is suitable new prey there!/
Sethorbjorn did not feel large.
He felt rather small in fact.
The land was something akin to a plain, with the plain covered in grass that was shaped like trees, with small bumps here and there.
His new form was barely twice the height of the grass, making poor Sethorbjorn was small.
He was also a bit of a thickheaded moron, not realizing that the "grass" in question were trees, and that these small bumps would be hills and large bounds of land.
It likely did not help that Sethor had taken away his system, and thus taken all stats and proof of this point.
Instead, when facing this ant hill, Sethorbjorn felt incredibly small, for the mount loomed overhead, easily dwarfing him.
And yes, he had turned a mountain into a mole hill.
The titanteater crawled towards the hill as it observed the prey that the guide had led him to.
Ants, that felt larger than they had ever been before.
Compared to normal ants at least.
They felt smaller than the monster ants.
What could once easily be squashed underfoot was now a tangible meal.
Because indeed... he was an anteater.
So this would be his first hunt!
The ants had already noticed him as they turned to face him, quickly gathering in a large group as they charged at him, with the intent to kill the intruder.
Titants, unlike normal ants, had sight.
Not great sight, but good enough to recognize the approach of kaiju, something important in these lands.
Sethorbjorn showed no hesitation either, using his claws to slice through the ants, as they cut through it like warm butter.
It didn't take long for Sethorbjorn to cut through all of them.
However...
After he killed the first bunch, he realized that cutting all the ants into pieces king of resulted in, nothing.
They didn't look very appetizing.
Oops.
As more of them approached him, he decided to try a different approach.
The approach he probably should've started with first, but he'd never been one for using his head when he could use his hands.
The tongue slowly slithered out of his mouth, and grabbed another approaching ant.
Crunch
Pulled into his mouth, he felt a satisfying crunch as his teeth grinded down the insect.
It was good, and not the worst thing the man had eaten before.
Looking at the anthill, Sethorbjorn saw it just a bit differently.
A little bit less like an enemy, and more like lunch.
Screee!
WwwwhhrrrrooooOOO!
Roaring in response to the challenger's screech, Sethorbjorn raised his claws in an offensive posture, preparing to fight the approaching creature. A horrendous mix of goose and snake.
A hissing serpentine head raped in feathers, a body with feathers and scales alike, with the tail of a scorpion.
It charged at him, hissing and screaming, but Sethorbjorn was no slouch.
Standing on his hind legs, he extended his hands outward in a show of dominance, with talons so long that the goose-snake-scorpion faltered in it's run for a few seconds, before ramping up it's speed again.
The titanteater ran forwards as well, preparing for its collision.
3...
2..
1.
Crash!
The sound of flesh and feather meeting reverberated in the area, as his claws dug into the hide of the beast, and honking hisses could be heard.
Sethorbjorn did not go unscathed, for he could feel the teeth of the beast ripping into his flesh, the teeth feeling more akin to the teeth of a wolf than the fangs of a snake.
The scorpion tail lunged forward, plunging towards the nape of his body.
Deftly dodging, Sethorbjorn instead grabbed the tail with his tongue, it's grip being far stronger than the likes of the new appendages he had.
Twisting his head, he threw the geese on the floor.
SLAM!
Wasting no time, he used his claws to tear off the stinger, eliciting a honk of pain from the goose.
It flapped its wings, desperately trying to escape, but Sethorbjorn was firmly on top, pinning it from above.
Each scratch took a pound of flesh off the beast, as it grew weaker with every gasp.
And finally...
Rrrrrriiiiiippppp!
The snake-like head came flying off as the creature finally fell limp.
Panting, Sethorbjorn could feel the blood pumping vigorously through his body.
This...
this feeling...
THIS was what he lived for.
SSScccreeeeeooonk!
A screech of dominance burst from the titanteater's throat.
The sound of satisfaction, the sound of triumph.
The dawn of a new apex had just begun.
In the countless battles that had followed his body had undergone many changes.
He had grow exponentially in size, though Sethorbjorn had long come to realize how small he was in this land of beasts, which caused him to often complain to himself how lord Sethor had brought him into a world of kaiju this small.
Right now, he would dwarf 4 dragons stacked upon one another.
The fur on his body had become a dark black, highlighted by the occasional streaks of lightning that ran through his body.
A long serpentine tail came out of his fur, splitting into two circular tips. There were feathers protruding from this tail, a deep shade of blue, that gave the tail the appearance of a particularly rough fan.
His hands had changed, becoming reptilian, much like his tail, and the talons had changed, becoming made to rip and tear, while his previous claws had been better for breaking into mounds.
The hind legs had grown, and taken up a structure that Sethorbjorn often attributed to drakes, or even birds were he to compare.
The guide Barren had called them, "traits of the Therizino" whatever that meant. Maybe some form of dragon, or bird.
His neck had grown, taking on a slenderer stature, coiled almost like the neck of a goose, covered in a black matte coat.
Rows of teeth now filled the face of the anteater, giving it a more sinister, look, as did the two horns protruding from the back of his head.
The eyes a dark amber.
According to his lord Sethor, he had evolved in his image, becoming what Sethor called the "Sethorian eater".
Sethorbjorn took pride in this title, much like he took pride in his name.
Today was another successful day of hunting, as he had managed to hunt down this weird porcupine cricket and was about to chow down when....
Thoom
Thoom
Thoom
Thoom
The sound of heavy footsteps could be heard as the beast approached his direction and the Sethorian eater heaved himself upwards, preparing for a fight.
A giant bipedal lizard broke through a clearing.
It was easily thrice his size.
To his surprise, it was not chasing him, but rather,
it was chasing fairies!
Well, he thought they were fairies.
They were small humanoid creatures at the very least and were even very similar to what he would describe as giants in their physical features, were it not for their size.
They were small.
Terribly small.
Each maybe came up to his knee, were he to be generous.
They were running from the beast, leaving him to wonder if they had angered the creature, given how little worth they'd be as prey for such a large creature.
He watched thoughtfully, wondering for a split second whether or not to save these little folks.
His mind was made up quickly.
He was a paladin of chaos.
What else could he do but save them?
Rushing forwards, he watched as the fairies eyes widened in panic as they turned to run in a different direction, but Sethorbjorn strode past them, rushing towards the beast claws prepped.
The beast shifted focus as it saw him, roaring a challenge to the approaching foe.
Teh creature took a big bite forward, as Sethorbjorn ignored it, lunging for the creature's side.
Using his claws, he gouged himself a grip onto the creature, before climbing it's back, with each gash bringing the beast pain.
A clean cut was all it took to bring the beast down, alongside the marks of his climb.
Boom!
The sound of the large beast falling reverberated throughout the whole area, being followed by silence.
Having finished up, Sethorbjorn settled down to enjoy his pound of flesh before moving on.
Before he could, he noticed the fairies walking up to him, before dropping to their knees, bowing in a show of respect.
Scrutinizing them, he couldn't help but notice they really looked like giants, were it not for their size.
They were almost exactly the same minus their size.
They were just too small.
Unless...
Maybe he was too big!
A s he recalled the words his master had said, commenting on his size, something he had merely dismissed as a bad joke, he came to realize the truth.
he was huge!
Lost in these thoughts, Sethorbjorn didn't notice that one of them in particular strode forward, a woman slightly taller than the rest, with special markings on her head.
Black hair and amber eyes.
She kneeled as she spoke words, words at first incomprehensible to him, until they started becoming understandable.
[-We offer our respects to the great clawed god of the plains, he who cleaves the world in two, the great badgerlord-]
Hmm?
Clawed god? What do they mean by that?
At this moment, a murky laughter filled his mind, one that brought the sethorian eater great worry.
He loved his god Sethor with all his heart, but like all men, he knows-
I am a god of chaos, you know?
-THe things Sethor enjoys most, the things he relishes in and even encourages,
-is chaos.
I still think my turtle is better. Anubis grumbles as he watcches these new devotees to his father's favored one fall to their knees.
Sethor cackled, as he poured himself another mug, and drank once more.
Come now, you must appreciate the sheer scale of their fights, It is something to behold.
Anubis had to admit this much begrudgingly as he pondered to himself.
Well, it could be fun if Earl chose to become a kaiju.
Sethor howled in delight at the very thought. Indeed, indeed! He agreed wholeheartedly. Imagine how my nephew would pull his own feathers out in frustration at the mere thought. Sethor found delight at the frustration Jorvus would face with the prospect of a kaiju lurking within his empire.
Father, he's not a bird anymore.
He'll still pull hair I guess. How delightful!
Anubis looked worried at the look on the god's face.
Father... He warned as his divine aura grew, causing Sethor to roll his eyes.
Fiiiiine. You're so defensive of that kid. When you were born-
-You were a horrid father and dumped me in a pond filled with mad hippos. Anubis retorted simply.
They were your hungry hungry hip-aunts! Exclaimed Sethor, as if that justified his actions.
Anubis rolled his eyes. Just keep your grubby hands off of my player.
Fine. I have a better toy anyway. He said as he turned back to the view.
Now, let's see-
Sethor smiled.
-How chaotic can I make this?
