†Chapter 46: Headless Horseman & Eye-Scream Sundae†
Oesentious's headless corpse didn't collapse. It *surged*.
One second, a crumpled, headless ruin at Wukong's feet. The next, the body *exploded* upwards, swelling into a hulking, headless monstrosity twice its original size. Jagged bone spines erupted from its shoulders, and thick, ropy tendrils of pure shadow whipped from its neck stump like enraged serpents. Where a head should be, a swirling vortex of dark energy pulsed, radiating pure, mindless fury. The pretentious master was gone. Only raw, stage-2 rage remained.
Wukong barely flinched. He'd just been bouncing the severed head like a basketball. "Whoa, Noggin'less! Didn't know you packed *extra* personality down there!" He tossed the head aside – *thump* – and raised his staff. "Still looks like a discount Halloween costume, though. Needs more *pumpkin*... or less *you*."
The headless monster lunged, a shadow-tendril lashing out like a whip. Wukong didn't dodge. He *slammed* his staff down, not with his usual flair, but with a guttural, instinctive shout: **"DEWIS!"**
It wasn't a spell he remembered learning. It felt *new*, bubbling up from some deep, chaotic wellspring. A wave of shimmering, liquid light – like morning dew given concussive force – erupted from the staff's tip. It hit the monster's leading tendril, not shattering it, but *vaporizing* it instantly. The wave kept going, slamming into the monster's shoulder. There was a sickening *crunch-pop*, and its entire left arm, tendril and all, blew apart in a spray of dark ichor and shadow-stuff.
Wukong blinked, staring at his staff. "Huh. *Dewis*? Fancy." He tilted his head, genuinely puzzled for a split second. "Where'd *that* come from? Did I eat something weird? Or is it just the grey blood talking?" He shrugged, the momentary curiosity vanishing as fast as the severed arm. "Eh, whatever. Works for me! More *dew*-lightful destruction!" He grinned, hefting the staff again. "Let's see how many *arms* you've got, Stitch-Face!"
Meanwhile, Zokraks had finally found his groove. Or rather, Veturlidi Hermundsson had finally made a *tiny* mistake. The monolithic bodyguard had advanced one step too far, his immense foot sinking slightly into the soft earth near a cluster of marble shards. Zokraks, seeing the micro-stumble, didn't hesitate. **"ULTIMATE LEMONADE... *SPLASH*!"** He didn't summon a wave. He *became* the wave, a blinding yellow torrent of pure citrus energy that crashed *through* Veturlidi's stoic defense, not shattering it, but *saturating* him, filling his pores with the concept of *sour*.
Veturlidi froze, not in pain, but in utter, overwhelming *discomfort*. His stoic mask finally cracked – a flicker of profound, lemon-induced *distaste* crossed his features. It was the opening Zokraks needed.
"Gotcha, Big Z!" Zokraks chirped, bouncing on the momentarily stunned giant. Before Veturlidi could recover, Zokraks *sat* squarely on his face, straddling the broad forehead like a victorious jockey. "How's the *view* down there? Bet it's *eye*-opening!" With a swift, almost casual motion, Zokraks dug his thumbs into Veturlidi's eye sockets. *Pop. Pop.* Out came the eyes – glowing orbs of cool blue light. Zokraks held them up, examining them like rare jewels. "Ooh, *shiny*! Bet these see right through *peel*!" He popped one into his mouth like a grape. *Crunch.* "Mmm! **Humm, yummy human!**" he mumbled through a full mouth, winking. "Tastes like... *bitter regret* and *unrealized potential*! Needs a dash of salt!" He popped the second eye. "There! Now you're *blind* to my *zest* for victory! Talk about a *real* eye-opener!"
The victory was grotesque, absurd, and utterly Zokraks. He hopped off the now truly blind and utterly defeated Veturlidi, who slumped to his knees, hands instinctively reaching for his ruined sockets. "Don't worry, Big Z!" Zokraks called cheerfully, wiping imaginary juice from his chin. "I'll send you a *postcard*! From Universe 0! It'll be *picture*-perfect!"
The scene shifted back to Xorath. Thorelf Bjalkidottir, in her terrifying stage-2 form, was relentless. Xorath had dodged the spear thrusts, blocked the icy kicks, but the sheer, overwhelming *pressure* of her new power was crushing him. He was bleeding from a dozen shallow cuts, frostbite already whitening the edges of his torn clothing. He blocked a spear thrust, but the impact drove him back, his boots sliding through the grass. Thorelf spun, the spear haft a deadly blur, and slammed it hard into his ribs. *CRACK.* Xorath gasped, dark energy flaring weakly as he tried to absorb the blow, but it was too much. He staggered, vision blurring, the cold seeping deep into his bones. Thorelf didn't pause. Another thrust, impossibly fast. Xorath twisted, but too slow. The spear-point grazed his temple, sending stars across his vision and blood trickling down his cheek. He stumbled back, falling to one knee, one hand pressed to his bleeding head, the other trying to push himself up. Thorelf loomed over him, her glowing form radiating absolute, icy dominance. Her spear-tip lowered, unwavering, aimed directly at his heart. Xorath looked up, his introverted calm shattered by pain and exhaustion, his eyes meeting the cold fury of his conqueror. There was no escape. Only the chilling certainty of the point.
Wukong, still grinning maniacally at the headless monster, caught the sight of Xorath on his knees. His grin didn't fade; it sharpened into something predatory. "Whoops! Looks like someone's *iced* out!" he yelled, gesturing with his staff towards Thorelf. "Hey, Frosty! Save some *cold shoulder* for the rest of us! Or are you just *chilling* out 'cause you finally beat someone who talks less than a mime?!" He spun, staff whistling, and charged the headless monstrosity, grey blood flying, laughter echoing – a sound both triumphant and utterly, terrifyingly empty. The hilltop was chaos: Zokraks humming with citrus satisfaction, Xorath facing the frozen end, and Wukong dancing with a headless horror, utterly unconcerned with the origin of his new, brutal magic. The path to Universe 0 was paved with gore, lemons, and severed limbs.