Ok so first of all, my tree base is very, very cool.
It does NOT look like a biter nest from Factorio, it doesn't, I swear. If anyone claims otherwise, I will rearrange their face, literally. I've spent enough time on that game to know what those look like, and this is completely different. My creation is an artistic masterpiece of biological engineering, not some video game monstrosity.
More importantly, it's a good idea!
I found a [Troll - Lvl 7] earlier while searching for goblins. A hulking thing, four meters tall at least, all corded muscle and slouching menace. Dark, mottled skin stretched over its oversized frame, and its grotesque mouth had way too many teeth for something that wasn't explicitly made to chew through boulders.
And yet, despite all that, the moment my flesh whip touched it, it died. Just like that. One second, a living wall of muscle, the next, a corpse.
Interestingly, its insides were tougher than wolves and resisted my attempt at fleshcrafting for half a moment before giving in. It felt more like trying to rip through rubber instead of meat. Still not a problem for the metaphorical chainsaw, but interesting nonetheless.
Maybe a higher Constitution means resistance to this kind of stuff? A question for later.
For now, it was resources.
I ripped it apart, pulling muscle, bone, and whatever that dark, sinewy tissue was, replacing my flesh mech's weaker parts wholesale. Then, with the excess, I turned it to a tree base—because why the hell not?
The process was surprisingly intuitive. I wrapped the muscle tissue around the trunk, encouraging it to spread and interweave with the branches. The bones I used as support struts, arranging them in a radial pattern from the central trunk. The combination created something akin to strong rubber—flexible yet incredibly sturdy.
One thing led to another and now here I am, sitting upon my flesh throne six meters above the ground with a dozen goblin corpses stacked near me like firewood.
From up here, the forest stretches out in all directions, an endless sea of leaves and branches. I can't see above the tree canopy, so the view isn't that impressive, but there's something about being elevated that feels... right.
One of my undead wolves paces around the base of the tree, occasionally trying to climb up but sliding back down pathetically.
Still no birds or other critters around because this is a creepy-ass forest and it doesn't want anyone to mistakenly think otherwise.
I still sleep underground, of course. That's just common sense. I think.
The voice of reason is unsure.
Anyway, it's time for science!
Alas, what I'm about to do could be dangerous. So I take precautions, as all proper scientists do.
First, a test subject.
I grab one of the goblin corpses and start dismantling it, one limb at a time. The body is green and small, dressed in primitive leather, with red markings painted over its skin. Different from the blue-marked goblins I met on the first day. Those were weaker, less clothed. Tribal markings? Clan distinction? A village, maybe?
A goblin village would be simply adorable.
Anyway, these guys were led by a [Goblin Warrior - lvl 6] , just like the first guys were led by a Goblin Shaman.
I'm a pretty insane matchup for physical type fighters, I'm finding out, so they were little more than lambs to the slaughter. The warrior had tried to swing some crude stone axe at me, but my whip hand wrapped around his wrist and he was brain-dead before he could even finish his battle cry. Bo Hoo, git gud or gtfo is what I said to its corpse and I stand by it.
I prepare myself to delve into the soul well, but then stop. It's probably overkill, but I check my flesh mech once more, and also my body first. Just to be prepared for everything.
My real body is still missing both my legs and one of my hands is a simple tendril which I use to fleshcraft stuff, but this doesn't mean that I'm not healing.
My regeneration is, in short, monstrous. It's not growing my limbs back by itself (yet), but I don't need it to. I only need the ingredients. Muscle, bone, cartilage, fat. Thankfully, due to my fully carnivorous diet, I am getting enough nutrients.
This isn't an excuse for the 20 kilos of mass I've put back on, but it's one of the core factors besides my Constitution. It boggles the mind how and where magic interplays with biochemistry, but I digress.
I probably could have used the self-mass I gained to fix one of my legs completely, but I opted to instead strengthen my arm muscles and torso, increase my bone density and thicken my cranium after wrapping it in muscle.
My face probably looks absolutely horrible at this point, but I'm not taking the bone helmet off anyway so who cares. Beauty standards can get fucked when survival is on the line.
The mass can always be recycled, so if I suddenly find my mech inadequate, I can always pause and craft myself a leg, but I'd rather wait until I have enough mass for both of them. Symmetry matters, at least when it comes to basic locomotion.
Checkup finished, I delve into the Soul Well. The journey feels different this time.
What was once a claustrophobic descent into impenetrable darkness now feels almost... comfortable. The darkness seem less dense, as if my eyes are adapting to see within it. The pressure that once felt crushing is now much less so.
The souls drift around me, twinkling motes of essence suspended in the void. Some scatter as I approach, while others, interestingly, seem to drift closer.
There are...maybe 15 of them now? I'll count them later.
I reach out and yoink the soul I'm looking for. Interestingly, it's the biggest of any I have, bigger than the Troll's or the Goblin Warrior's, despite the one I took it from being only level 3 when he died.
Fascinating, huh?
The Goblin Shaman's soul pulses in my grasp, but unlike its brethren, it doesn't scream.
I pull my consciousness back to the physical realm, opening my eyes once more. I glance at the soul pebble in my hand and then at the limbless goblin corpse splayed out before me on the flesh platform. The pebble seems to vibrate against my palm.
I don't need to push the thing inside manually anymore; practice had seen to that. Instead, I simply drop it from my hand and it falls into the corpse.
I watch as a baleful green glow starts emanating from its eyes despite the fact that the eyelids are closed. It always happens, even if I take the eyes out entirely, so I don't question it anymore. Magic, am I right?
The soul of the Goblin Shaman settles into the vessel and I watch the white letters appearing over its head.
[Undead Goblin Shaman - Lvl 3]
The glow stabilizes, and the body twitches once, twice, then falls still again. The head lolls to the side, and those glowing eyes seem to be looking straight at me.
"Hello there," I say cheerfully, as if greeting a new neighbor. "Welcome to the afterlife. Well, not really the afterlife. More like the after-afterlife? Or maybe undeath? I haven't quite figured out the proper terminology yet."
The goblin doesn't respond, but it doesn't try to attack me either, which is already an improvement over my previous subjects.
"Can you understand me? Do you know what happened to you?" I continue, not really expecting an answer. None of them ever respond meaningfully.
The live goblins start trying to run away after a certain pain threshold, and the undead ones are just confused after a soul transfer. They also don't try talking to me in their language, even when I tried mimicking their sounds.
"Look, I get it. Being dead and then suddenly not-dead but also not-alive must be confusing. But I'm trying to communicate here, maybe we can—"
The goblin opens its mouth, but doesn't try biting. He simply opens it as if trying to make sounds, but undead don't breathe. None did so far. This one doesn't as well, only opening and closing his mouth repeatedly.
"Are you trying to talk? Is something wrong with the voice box? You are able to move your face muscles, so why not your diaphragm to pull in some air?" I muse, watching as the jaw continues to work silently.
This is new. This is progress. Usually they just try to eat my face off.
I glance at the pile of dismembered limbs and get an idea. Carefully, I take one of the severed goblin arms and press it against the ragged stump where his right arm used to be. The flesh melds together with ease.
The goblin looks down at his newly attached arm, then slowly raises it and begins waving it at me.
"No way," I whisper. "Are you trying to communicate?"
The arm moves in what seems like deliberate patterns, not the random flailing I've seen before. Could it be... sign language? Or some sort of goblin semaphore?
Suddenly, I feel a buzzing sensation coming from the direction of the goblin.
It's faint at first, barely perceptible, but it grows stronger as I focus on it. I try to sense it more clearly, and realize that it's probably mana.
The feeling is quite similar to the one I feel inside of me... but this one is coming from the outside. No, not completely but... a tether, connecting me and the goblin?
[Mana perception lvl 1 - Mana Perception lvl 2]
Yeah, I think I feel it now. There's another mana thread going downwards as well, toward the undead wolf at the base of the tree... I can feel my mana flowing from my body towards my undead minions!
That's so damn cool! It's like I'm a puppeteer, but instead of strings, I'm using pure magical energy...and I can't really control shit, but eh...
I'm so awed by the discovery that I don't immediately notice the mana tether toward the goblin buzzing more intensely as it gesticulates and opens/closes his mouth. The creature becomes more animated, its movements more purposeful, more deliberate.
And then, like a radio finally tuning into the right frequency, I hear it—a voice, scraping against the inside of my skull like rusty nails.
"CuRsEd CReaTuRE, yoU MusT DIE"
Oh.
Then the goblin corpse explodes.
A shockwave of raw force rips through the platform, sending chunks of flesh and bone flying. I barely manage to hold on, my whip hand anchoring me to the tree as the blast shreds through my surroundings. The concussive force of the blast sends me tumbling backward, my flesh mech absorbing most of the impact but not enough to prevent me from seeing stars for a few seconds.
The goblin's remains rain down in pieces, alongside part of my flesh platform.
I blink.
Then I start laughing.
Well, that was unexpected.
A talking undead. A thinking undead. And it tried to self-destruct me with magic!
I grin behind my helmet, already pulling new goblin bodies toward me and regathering the little fucker's soul mist.
Because we're not done.
No no noo... not by a long shot.