Human nature was learned. Man did not have it at birth and could not acquire it except through fellowship, and it decayed in isolation.
The sensibilities anyone had were not their own, they were things learned over the course of life.
Your perception of good and evil was never yours. It belonged to your environnt, to the religion you followed and wholeheartedly believed to be true, yet had been indoctrinated into you from the beginning.
In this world there were no absolute goods or absolute evils. There were no Absolutes.
Laws were transient.
For a baby, none of these things mattered. If sothing looked good and the baby recognized it as good then, like a beast, it acted on instinct and ate it.
If sothing looked like a toy, then it was a toy, even if it happened to be a colony of insects fighting for survival.
Well, sadly, human cruelty was innate.
Damon jumped aside as the giant malford infant charged toward him like a rampaging bull. Its thunderous footsteps bood through the chamber as it slamd headfirst into the pillar Damon had been hiding behind. The stone cracked and dust rained down.
"How does it even run with those stubby legs." Damon asked irritably, holding Lazarak across his arms like a sack of flour.
"Hold gently you bastard I’m a god." Lazarak scread, clearly offended by the display of disrespect.
"Shut up or I’m tossing you to that giant malford baby."
Damon dodged a spray of debris while cradling Lazarak tighter. He rolled across the floor, sliding on his knees until he ca to a halt facing the direction of the giant baby.
He frowned as the baby stared at him with an innocent giggle. Damon had never been so unnerved by innocence. Sothing inside him finally understood how insects and small household pets felt when newborn children first entered the world.
"I an it could be worse at least he’s not using magic." Lazarak muttered loudly.
Damon’s eye twitched. He squeezed the toddler god a bit too tightly.
"Thank you for jinxing us. It is not as if I am not trying hard enough to get myself killed."
And sure enough, the stillborn raised its hand to its nose. Its face shifted into an expression of simple, empty innocence.
It sneezed.
A deafening boom followed as fire, water and wind rged into a violent, insidious spell.
This magic had no runes. It had no chants. No seals. It simply happened. There was no law to it, no study behind it. Just a raw destructive outburst of mana.
The explosion rocked the entire chamber. Dust and soot flooded the air as fragnts of stone shot across the room.
A soft giggle, filled with the innocence of a baby, echoed faintly through the haze. Damon frowned. He had held back earlier to observe what this creature could do, but soone else beat him to the attack.
The baby rocked its massive body and looked toward the armored woman standing before it.
Black drool slipped from its mouth. It stared at Matia with curiosity. She tightened her grip on her spiked mace, lifting it with all her strength.
With a sound like tearing cloth, she swung. The mace struck the stillborn’s raised hand. The stubby hand ripped free from its malford body.
Since it had no true arms, the hand was the only thing to sever.
The stillborn baby stared at its missing hand in pure confusion. Then it began to wail, blood spraying from the wound in a thick fountain.
Uncharacteristic of a normal infant, it wailed harder and lunged at Matia. She raised her shield and absorbed the impact. The creature’s palm pressed against the shield and was instantly impaled by ice spikes she had conjured. Thin veils of frost crept down the creature’s body.
Its movents slowed. Its massive form swayed as though being lulled into sleep. Matia was freezing it gently, steadily, without hesitation.
As ice spread down its torso, the creature trembled. Its eyes flashed.
"Ahhhhnjjjjggggg."
It cried out as its body began to glow red. Flas engulfed its form. It lifted its remaining hand to smash Matia, but she leapt aside. Her mace warped into a massive greatsword.
She planted her foot on a nearby pillar, pivoted, and launched herself upward.
The stillborn opened its mouth and unleashed a torrent of fire like a dragon’s breath.
Matia spread her wings and glided above the flas. Her sword glead with sharp cold light as she descended.
In midair, ice t fire. The chamber shook with the sound of thunder.
Using her weight, she dove toward the ground. A faint boom rippled through the air as her blade cleaved straight down. The shining edge sliced through flesh. Blood erupted in a crimson fountain.
"Ahhh gargr."
The stillborn’s head toppled from its shoulders. Black tears stread from its eyes. Its large body remained standing for a breath, then slowly collapsed to the ground.
Blood rained down on Matia. She remained still, letting the droplets slide from her armor.
Damon clapped approvingly.
"Good. Beautiful. You get extra points for aura farming while you were at it."
Matia did not respond. She simply flicked her sword to rid it of blood.
Damon clapped again.
"I will be adding that to my aura farming techniques if you do not mind."
While Damon praised Matia, Lazarak walked toward the fallen stillborn with a sad expression. He knelt beside the creature’s head, looking into the wide eyes that would remain open in death unless soone closed them.
"I’m sorry you never got to live a full life little one. I am certain out there, sowhere, there is a mother who wished you had lived. A mother who prayed you would be born so she could hold you, nurse you, and watch you grow."
He slowly lifted his hand and closed the creature’s eyes.
"Rest now little one."
Damon watched him and sighed heavily.
"You do realize we are here to kill them en mass right."
Lazarak shook his head gently.
"Not quite. We are here to kill the mother of stillbirths."
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