Akal was genuinely lost. Which one was the real one? Were any of them real? Akal did not know. So, instead of allowing this wolf-faced fiend's lackeys confuse him, Akal launched into action. He was a mimesis of this wolf-faced fiend, then. Letting out a guttural series of roars that, just barely, sounded like "Shpear It Wayers, Shpear it Predas!", Akal allowed the mind game to be played. Of course, not knowing exactly what the magic was, Akal was simply guessing after this point.

They were so obviously different from the wolf-faced fiend’s own images, but they would serve Akal’s purpose for the time being, despite even now threatening to fall apart at the merest action. They circled around the obviously real Akal, prepared to attack the three surrounding him. It was a tight circle, but Akal would make it even tighter with one simple spell.

He wasn’t one for shouting out the name of his spell, instead relying on the guttural screeches of terror in the midst of combat. So, it was guaranteed that he would let some of those out when he felt pain. So, when he began to roar even louder than he had before, it was a clear sign that he was experiencing *something*. 

Two of his mimicked spirit predators popped out of existence in that moment, as well, though probably because of their own instability. That left only two of his spirit warriors, so he no longer had a circle. Perhaps he should have delved deeper into mimicry, rather than only eating a mage who knew how to mimic other mages.

But to Akal, it did not quite matter at this point. Akal, who was at one point smaller than this wolf-faced fiend, grew to stand at least a head above her. His body contorted and twisted, and antlers appeared on his head. Or maybe they were horns that had grown to look like antlers. Regardless of what they actually were, Akal’s cries stopped.

It was rather disturbing, really, what happened after that. His arms twisted and grew into bestial shapes, closer to a stag’s forelegs, and his back legs twisted and contorted into even more bestial shapes, becoming closer to the individual legs of a spider. His upper body remained the same, turning him into a sickening rendition of a centaur.

He had no more magic to use, so he would have to rely on physical strength. If he was defeated by the wolf-faced fiend, he could run and feast on the townsfolk. Clearly he had nothing to lose if such well-trained meals were already here.
Perhaps the wolf-faced fiend would suspect as much, and simply attempt to divert him for a while? Or perhaps she did not. It was so much easier to think when all those other voices were quiet, but rationality could only remain so long before it too was quelled out by the insatiable hunger.

Letting loose one more guttural, frenzied, roar, louder than the last ones, he began to move in a twisted and sickening way. He began to run, no, *charge* into the spirit warriors, a trail of his ink black blood still flowing like a waterfall. It was actually beginning to let up, though it still gushed forth in torrents. With clever tactics, Akal would be defeated, but doing the wrong thing might set him off into an even more maddened frenzy.