I Reincarnated into a GOAT?

Today was a Good Day

My Legion has transported themselves. Nate leaves for Faeton first, then Kyle. 

Tate has a few guys mixed in with each horde. I don’t see him with the others, so that must mean he is still with my brides mixing and gathering potions. I call to him, a push to join the battle.

Then I call for him again. Brave motherfcker, able to fight the command.

Since I will complete the spell on Faeton once the president is killed, I had my brides work on a new spell, a bit of an alteration. 

Instead of my combined six levels moving up, I will have Faeton move down. None of my demons want Faeton to be the main level, and to be honest, my brides really like our home. So, I will make Ashehall home to Hell.

Akron has something he is not telling me...I can feel him, a presence that is growing, but it feels safe, so I let it slide. I don’t know if my brain is playing tricks or not, but I can feel his thoughts. Shits weird.

I get my head back in the game, and chant my little spell heading up to Faeton, where my Pater has already gone.

First I went to my Parens home and sent it whole, worker demons and all, to Ashehall, next door to my home and within my protective spell. Gast should be expecting the home, I send a quick little “please don’t squish my Parens home beneath your 35 foot tall self” prayer to the universe and then forget it.

I feel like today has been a long time coming. I don’t have the same memories or long life span of my horde and soon to be citizens, but their blood calls out to mine-demanding justice.

I close my eyes and find my Pater in the middle of the city, he has already begun the collection of souls from the strongest demons.

I locate to him.

Shit was weird already, but now it is shitastically weird. 

The fighting demons surrender and begin to cut their own throats, look of bliss on their faces. My Pater stands there with a look of pride and...gloating. I am pumped for a battle and I am getting weak ass demons committing suicide.

I freeze those in the process of killing themselves, what's the use of collecting souls when they are gone? s**t can’t happen. My Pater gets to work on the frozen demons, only collecting a few. I follow suit and collect around ten souls when I finally feel that Faeton has been conquered...no, almost conquered. Maybe Kyle and Nate are having a bit of fun with the leaders?

I begin to put all the dead in a pile, since several died before I could freeze them. We almost have enough for my spell to be cast. I count around thirty bodies when my Pater goes and sits on the pile. Fck it. 

I go and sit next to him. I then unfreeze the demons with a command to “hold.” Hell if I need any more suicidal demons.

My Pater and I are talking, just idle chatter when I hear a ruckus heading my way. I look up and see Nate carrying a head and his soldiers carrying a body, then Kyle carrying a body. 

Finally, s**t can get done.

I don’t need one hundred sacrifices this time. With the change in the spell I only need fifty, plus the leader.

I watch as thousands of demons prostrate themselves. Swearing their allegiance. I don’t know why, but I figured Faeton would be the most difficult level to conquer and these bastards are just handing themselves over to me. Crazy asses.

I gather the rest of the bodies, a quick ten minutes and I have all the needed bodies. I take out my chalk and begin to draw on the asphalt, then I begin to chant. 

This time the spell feels more powerful and it is drawing more of my core and strength into it. I drop a bit of blood and continue my spellwork.

The masses are standing around slack jawed as I continue. My body begins to heat up and I can feel the poison in my body begin to flow out. I realize that my vision is now red. I look down and I am in my original form, but different.

My goat body is huge and I am still able to complete my spellwork.

I watch as those nearest me begin to transform...against their will. They have lived too long looking human...or like the god race as demonkin knows it. I focus my attention on the work at hand. 

A sea of blood leaks out from the bodies, the sacrifices. Then I notice that the masses, those that are weakest have begun to turn to ash and dust. 

The scenery is also changing.

I look around, the casting is almost complete and Faeton is on fire. 

I complete the spell and chant and we are sucked out of Faeton and pushed into Ashehall. Pain engulfs me. 

When I see several buildings appear and the living demons mix among Ashehall I feel the most intense pain in my chest and a sound like a lock releasing. 

My souls, all my souls are finally made into one.

The seven copies of the prophecy have materialized there in my soul, seven once again made one.

When the prophecy is done meshing together, it changes altogether. 

I can feel it changes and updates, creating a new prophecy before making its way into my right hand. 

I’m on fire, not literally, but it feels like my very bones are melting as I lose consciousness.

Having six souls reside in my body, their memories combined was already surreal, but having them make one, to complete me finally. I see that my souls have lived at the same time, but in different dimensions. Only my current demonkin soul was not in the same timeline. 

I experienced all six of my deaths at the same time and now my broken self pieced back together, the shattering...I don’t know why my soul was torn into pieces. 

But putting them back together is excruciating.

I am in a sea of flames. A sea of acid. A crushing deep sea suffocating me but not allowing me to die. Instead I am being remade. Not just my souls. Me.

When I finally come to, the ground stops its quake. I look at the asphalt and sharp buildings that moved here and begin to alter them, making them feel more natural. 

A city block just doesn’t match a jungle.

I am far from my home, but I can smell my brides. I can hear everything so clearly, especially that damn demon Akron, who sends me a s**t ton of images.

I begin to laugh. He played well.

I agree with his legend. If I can get a bone dragon as an original form instead of just a bone demon...I will fck his mate once more. s**t, I would bend him over and fck him if I could get a bone dragon. 

Not sure how that would work on a fleshless demon...dude is just bones. 

I look for my Pater, who somehow looks shorter, by a lot.

I look down at myself. 

I was once a Frankenstein like goat, similar to my Mater. Then I turned golden, which was a bit weird. Now I am pure black, blacker than my Pater, with a sheen of gold. 

If this was the human world, I would look as if I put gold dust on my skin. But this level of black would never be seen on human flesh. Pitch.

Beautiful Pitch black tone. It’s truly radiant. If I were to see this color on any demon or shit..any living creature, my eyes would gravitate towards the color.

The demons around me look awed as their eyes devour my image. 

I bet I look like a total badass. 

I can feel the Fae answering my summons.

My generals think that combining the dimensions of hell is like a calling card to battle, but it's not. Instead, I summoned them to us. 

I laugh harder. The Fae are my bitches now. 

I specifically call for the young, and I command the females to join.

My demons will once again spawn offspring, even if they are produced by these filthy fckers. 

Several combat Fae come after I have summoned six hundred female Fae and put them underground in my own personal cave. I allow a few males to join in hopes that they can impregnate some of our gelllos.  If not, they will serve a different purpose. 

I allow my horde to have fun with the Fae, they have earned the right for retribution and justice. I cast a seat and watched the battle rage in front of me. Though some are injured from being too close to me when I cast the spell, all my Generals and their Admirals and Vice Admirals have survived. 

Today was a good day.