Lord Eater
Two days later.
Sabo crouched low in the underbrush, his breath slow and measured. The Maldrath ahead of him was unlike any he had faced before. It stood on four slender legs, its body rippling with the fluid motion of living shadow. A long neck extended from its body, ending in Cervidae face. From its head rose an enormous rack of antlers, sprawling and twisted, each tine lined with staring yellow and red eyes. They blinked independently, their gaze sweeping the darkened forest, searching.
the voice in his mind sneered.
Sabo ignored the voice. He had grown used to the entity’s derision over the last two days, but something about its tone now felt different. Moreso, he had developed a sense of feeling the emotions of the entity. They typically washed over him, as though they were his own, but now he was capable of discerning when the emotions were particularly alien. And the entity wasn’t just irritated. It was embarrassed.
He couldn’t believe it. The God-Eater entity was ashamed to be sneaking around the forest.
That’s ridiculous, Sabo thought. It’s just strategy.
The Maldrath let out a low, unnatural noise, something between the groan of shifting wood and the keening wail of a wounded animal. Its antlers twitched, the many eyes scanning. Sabo held still. Too still. A drop of sweat trickled down his temple.
The entity scoffed.
Sabo grit his teeth. Yeah? And get blinded by those cursed eyes first? He hadn’t survived this long by taking the entity’s reckless advice at face value. We don’t know what this one can do yet. Plus, Maro and the others are still nearby hunting and the last thing we want to do is have this shade attract a whole damned horde!
He watched as the massive shadow-deer stepped carefully between the twisted trunks of the forest, its body shifting and melting slightly with each movement, as if it existed only half in this world. The eyes on its antlers twitched and dilated. It had sensed something.
Him.
Sabo exhaled, shifting his weight. Stealth was no longer an option.
Fine. He’d do it the entity’s way.
Sabo focused his intent on summoning the maul and his arm parted into sinewy tendrils as the weapon was summoned from his flesh. In a second, his arm had reconstituted, wielding the gruesome hammer. He tightened his grip on the maul, feeling the energy surge as the weapon twisted in his grasp, its mouth yawning open, ready. The entity practically purred in satisfaction.
With a single motion, Sabo burst from his cover, charging straight at the Maldrath.
The Maldrath's head snapped toward Sabo as he lunged, the maul gleaming in his grip. A sound—light, playful—spilled from the creature’s throat. It was a giggle. High and childish, utterly out of place in the darkened woods.
Sabo grimaced, pulling aether into his limbs. Threads of power wove through his veins, igniting his muscles and making the God-Eater maul feel like a feather. Strength surged through him, raw and potent. He swung down, the maul’s jagged mouth already twitching open, hungry for the strike.
The eyes along the Maldrath’s antlers flared wide. In a blink, a pulse of shimmering force blasted from its body. The air thickened. Sabo’s momentum slowed—like he’d leapt into a vat of syrup instead of empty space. Each heartbeat dragged on, the world stretching as his body strained against the invisible weight. He inched through the air, his limbs frozen in position.
A blur. The Maldrath vanished, only to reappear in front of him, impossibly fast. Sabo barely registered its long, deer-like neck parting down the middle. Teeth. Rows of gleaming, needle-sharp fangs lined the inside of the fleshy opening. A flash of red lashed out—a tongue, slick and cold—coiling around his waist.
It yanked him closer.
the entity inside the maul hissed in his mind. Its voice was rough, dripping with disdain. This time, the embarrassment Sabo felt in his mind was a torrent he couldn’t fend off.
Sabo clenched his jaw. “Working on it,” he growled under his breath.
The Maldrath’s giggle rang out again, like a chorus of children delighting in a new toy. No. Not like this. He called on the aether again—harder this time—flooding it into his arms. If the creature wanted to slow him, fine. He’d let the rest of his body remain sluggish, all while turning his arms into lightning.
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
The maul’s mouth gaped wider as the entity within it sensed his intent. Teeth lengthened, dripping with dark ichor. “Ahhh,” it purred. “Better.”
Sabo twisted his torso, pushing against the heavy drag of the Maldrath’s power. His muscles burned as the aether pulsed through them, flaring to the point of pain. He swung the maul in a tight arc toward the serpent tongue binding him—and whispered the command. Yggdrasil’s System responded, the text flashing briefly in the corner of his vision.
[DEVOUR.]
The maul snapped forward, its jagged teeth closing over the tongue and biting deep. The Maldrath flinched, its giggle cutting off in a sharp, confused squeal. Shadow-stuff spilled from the wound, streaming into the maul’s mouth as it gnawed hungrily.
The tongue’s grip slackened.
Sabo didn’t waste the chance. He ripped free and swung again—this time at the neck-mouth gaping open before him. The maul’s jaws met the Maldrath’s maw in what might’ve passed for a twisted embrace—if the maul hadn’t started to eat.
The Maldrath thrashed, legs kicking, antler-eyes darting in panic as the maul tore through it. Every bite dissolved more of its body, reducing the shadowy flesh to curling black particles. Its giggle bubbled back up, faltering and broken now, the sound slipping into something wet and guttural.
Sabo held on, his breath coming hard as the maul feasted. The Maldrath’s massive form shrank with each bite, swallowed by the ever-hungry thing in his hands. And still, it laughed—high and soft—until there was nothing left but black mist curling around Sabo’s boots and then drifting away on an invisible breeze.
The entity sighed in his mind, satisfied. The mouth on the head of the maul parted to speak. “A snack,” it said, its voice low and indulgent. “But a delicious one.”
Sabo let out a breath, rolling his shoulders as the strain of the aether began to ease and seep out of his muscles. He let the maul hang at his side. He stared at the last wisps of the Maldrath dissolving into nothingness.
If that was a snack, he didn’t want to meet whatever counted as a meal.
He felt a pulse within his core and notifications sprang into view—neat, silver script flowing throw his vision.
[Maldrath (Class: Walker) Devoured: 103]
[Maldrath (Hydra-Arm) Devoured: 60]
[Maldrath (Class: Abjuration) Devoured: 1 increased to 2]
[New Spell: Slow]
[Spell Level: B-5]
[Description: The user is able to emit a pulse in a radius of twenty feet capable of slowing the movement of all targets within the spell’s casting range. The force of this spell becomes stronger at higher levels and is capable of being resisted.]
[Current Mana Cost: 12%]
[Uses Remaining: 10 of 10]
So, Sabo thought, taking in the flood of new information. That was an Abjuration Class Maldrath. Sabo wasn’t exactly familiar with how the monsters were classified, though Abjuration was clearly a higher class than Walker. The bear-shaped Maldrath had also been Abjuration Class. And there were classes higher than Abjuration, until a Maldrath eventually became known as an Angel. Sabo shuddered at the thought.
He read the description of the new spell again. That’ll be useful. Only ten uses, though.
Sabo slid down the moss-slick embankment, his boots (formerly the warden’s boots) digging into the spongy earth as he moved toward the forest hollow where Maro and the others had set the snares. The air here was thick with the scent of damp wood and decaying leaves—a welcome relief from the stale air and darkness he had known aboard the airship. He was happy to trade the beating of the drum for the sweet sound of birdsong.
He flexed his hand, watching as the last tendrils of liquid metal twisted and melted into his skin. The God-Eater maul was gone, hidden beneath his flesh, but its presence lingered—a weight in his bones, a hum just beneath his heartbeat. Over the past two days, he’d learned that the weapon wasn’t just a tool. It was a living thing—one that had its own hunger, its own will. He understood—at least generally—how it worked.
He touched his side, where one of the bear Maldrath’s snake-heads had sunk its fangs. The wound was gone—healed faster than it should’ve—but a phantom ache lingered beneath the skin. After the standoff against the Maldrath horde, he had also been surprised to learn that his body hadn’t been covered in burns from the Morduin knight’s flames. Being the entity’s host apparently provided him with improved natural recovery. Perks of being your vassal, I guess, Sabo thought, aiming the words inward.
A rumble stirred deep in his mind, a voice that crawled through the marrow of his bones.
Sabo rolled his eyes. “You keep calling me that. Starting to feel like I should call you something too.”
A ripple of discontent flickered along their connection. The entity didn’t like being questioned—he’d learned that much already. Sabo hopped over a fallen log, scanning the brush for any sign of their traps. “I’ve been calling you ‘the entity’ or ‘God-Eater’—but those aren’t exactly catchy. You got a name, or am I supposed to keep coming up with stuff?”
The voice was a low, bone-shaking growl.
“Yeah, yeah. You’re ancient and mysterious. Still doesn’t help when I need to yell at you in my head.” He paused, pretending to consider. “What about something shorter . . . Eater?”
The sense of displeasure was immediate—a slow, simmering irritation that prickled against his thoughts. Sabo smirked. “Eater it is. Unless . . . what if I make it fancy? Lord Eater. Huh? Eater for short, but I’ll include the title if ever introducing you to someone.”
The irritation shifted—twisting into something else. Something like . . . satisfaction? Not quite. It was more like begrudging approval.
“Hah,” Sabo muttered. “I knew you had an ego.”
The rumble in his mind faded, but the sense of presence lingered—heavy and patient.
He crested a small ridge and spotted movement in the clearing below. Maro crouched near a line of simple snares, his hands deftly working the cords. The others were scattered—three prisoners checking traps, one perched on a low branch as lookout. Sabo relaxed slightly. No signs of Maldrath. He had done his best to clear the area surrounding the crash site to make it as safe as possible for the others. Though Maro’s wind magic was no joke, and he was more than capable of protecting a small group of prisoners.
“Anything good?” Sabo called as he slid down the hill.
Maro looked up, his wild, gray-streaked hair hanging loose around his face. “Couple of tree hares. Scrawny, but better than airship rations.” He held up the limp forms of the animals—small, with long, spindly legs and twitching ears. “Was starting to think you’d gotten yourself killed out there.”
“Please,” Sabo said, dusting his hands off. “I’m too stubborn for that at this point.”
Maro snorted but didn’t argue. Two days ago, Sabo had shattered the Maldrath horde’s leader with a single swing—something even the freed Soulsingers—Maro and Hiwot—had been impressed by. Whatever that weapon of his was, it had changed the balance of power among the prisoners.
Sabo shifted his weight, glancing at the others. Most avoided his gaze, but Maro met it with a welcomed smile.
“We’ve finished setting up the new snares. What say you we return to our base and present our feast to the others?”
Sabo laughed. “Please.”
only 9 more to go). If we can hit 10 Advance Reviews, that will be two bonus chapters this upcoming week.
Once we get to 50 Ratings, I will post a poll and allow readers to decide what they want Sabo to DEVOUR in the coming chapters (no wrong answers).