Reviving the carcass

A trenchant stab seared through Ryr's spine, and his eyes cracked open, throbbing. He scoured the surroundings, a void choked with nothing but overflowing darkness. An apparition of radiance flickered in the distance. He rebelled against the agony encumbering him, stumbling in the first few steps. As he trudged towards the dying beacon, a chant rattled the air.

"That took you long enough. You sure have the nerves to keep me waiting, bastard."

Ryr clamped his eyelids and shielded his face with the back of a palm as the glimmer inflamed and erupted, dwindling to a tolerable glow.

"Open your eyes." The voice commanded, "You're wasting my breath."

Ryr followed the order and traced out the serpentine contours of the abomination before him. He gasped and swayed, crashing his back on the icy ground.

"Who.. who are you?"

"Gyzar." It replied with a haunting shrill. "An astral transcendent."

Ryr discerned the skeletal monstrosity. It possessed a humanoid skull. Fangs, as sharp as daggers, rooted from its upper jaws. He rolled his lips as he glimpsed at its pair of eyeless cavities—an extra set carved in its temples.

"Where the hell am I?"

"Dead. Or at least, your body has ceased to function. The soul's intact, however. We're trapped in it."

Ryr furrowed his brows.

"My time's fleeting. Tell me, do you seek revenge or not?"

"Why should I trust you?"

"Look, I can't answer all your queries. If you don't form an astral bond with me now, this body and soul will both be dead and gone. So what will it be, revenge or death?"

The insufferable final moments with his family cycled through his mind, with crippling images flashing before him. Ryr's rationale withered, and resentment desiccated his soul, unleashing a drought only vengeance could quench.

Ryo… Ciara…

"Revenge." Ryr answered as he gulped the last shred of hesitation.

The transcendent extended its hands and unfurled cadaverous fingers. It revealed a coiled creature, resembling a small snake with white, lambent spikes as scales.

"Very well. Here's a fragment of my spirit."

Ryr's arm quivered and dawdled as it approached the hissing brute. In the drop of a heartbeat, it sprung and twisted around his hand, sinking its hooked fangs and scorching scales into his flesh. He roared, grinding his teeth as the pitch-black world shed its shade and bartered it for a blinding blaze.

His pupils dilated as the bleached display wore itself to a shadow. Flakes descended from a cobalt blue sky with wispy clouds, settling on his face. The temporary numbness petered out. He heaved a mouthful. The exact agony that pierced his backbone respawned. Ryr discovered himself wrapped in the hide of an unknown beast on a bed of virgin snow.

"You're awake. What was the delay for?", the masked figure asked. "Well then, how's the bonding with the corpse going, Gyzar?"

Ryr gawked at him.

"What's with the look?", The man jerked his head. "Don't tell me you forgot about good old Mordus."

"Who the -"

Ryr urged the question between his lips but shrieked instead.

"Hmm… So he's decided to abandon me again?" He sighed, drawing the hood over his head, and unsheathed his sword. "Since Gyzar failed to conquer such a measly corpse, I don't see a reason why I should let you breathe."

Ryr's subconscious arm aligned with the hooded swordsman, and he cannoned a pressurized burst of air at the target. The blow gouged through his abdomen, but he withstood the assault.

"It seems that he's toying with me again." He exploded into a psychotic cackle. "How could I be so blind?"

A crisscross of fine carmine threads weaved into layers of flesh, nourishing the dwarf of a tunnel and sealing it with pale skin. He cracked his neck and edged closer to the revived carcass. Ryr leapt back in response, despite the throbbing sensation impaling further into the body. He felt someone or something govern his every movement like a marionette. but he could only survey the dance of destruction he immersed in with the swordsman.

Having fun, I suppose?

Ryr's mind stirred.

Why the blank look? Never in three thousand years have I bonded with an ingrate like you.

This body is mine, and mine alone! You're not my master, so let go of me now!

Oh, is that so? What about avenging your family, Ryr? The bond we forge is mutual. I'll provide you with power and, in exchange, consume an ounce of your remaining lifespan. Don't worry, I won't rush.

Ryr's steps synchronized with the heat of the feral battle, dodging each slash from his opponent untouched. He retained his conscience; however, sacrificing his every waking action to the transcendent burdened him, and he regretted the abrupt decision.

Lamenting is worthless at the very moment.

This wasn't worth it!

Really? Life's a mirror; it'll reflect your every action, so be cautious and decisive in your deeds.

A fissure cleaved through his body. Ryr knelt. His vision was blurred.

I won't suppress the poison again; choose wisely. He won't spare you because his slain comrade resides in this freaking corpse.

His pale skin was stitched back, stealing the injury from existence.

"Oh, decided to team up with a Sabelian corpse on your old pal, eh?"

The cadaver's skin unwound from the arms, expanding into a quartet of thorny whips. They spiraled around the blade, consolidating their grips, and shattered it like porcelain. The whips repositioned immediately and hurled a barrage of lashes at the disarmed swordsman, lacerating him with cavernous wounds. In a mere few seconds of the rampage, he was virtually skinned and mutilated to a fleshy pulp.

The scourges retracted, coiling around his bones and reforming his hand. Ryr tramped through the scarlet permafrost. He crouched and investigated the torsal remains.

Of all the features he discerned, the rusty mask piqued his interest. He grabbed and ripped the reluctant scrap of metal shielding the masquerade.

The sight daunted Ryr as he withdrew.

"No… It can't be! Rero!"

Fool, he's manipulated his form! Get over it already! Your brother's long dead, and this freak's not even Sabelian!

His senses ticked in. However, the illusion sheltered the unkillable ferocity. His scattered limbs crawled back while Ryr reasoned in disbelief. They rejoined with his blood-soaked torso, rejuvenating the deceiver.

"Well then, shall we dance like we used to, Gyzar?" a smirk carved onto the transformed face as he rose and lifted the hilt. The debris of the blade hurtled at the grip, reforming the colossus of a sword like its formidable master.

"It'll take a little more than your old tricks to amuse me this time around."