Wake of the Ravager
***Carem, Diocese of Trade****
Carem knew the boy was a summoner, and he had the penchant for hiding inside his own summons. He had tons of bits and pieces of information about the kid, including the fact that he was known as ‘the wasp’ on the international scene.
For obvious reasons, Carem thought with a smirk as the wasps dissolved into green smoke which imploded into the pale-skinned twerp. The kid caught himself in midair after a short dip, seemingly resting on his palms and feet, flying somehow without the Juntai Ability Magnetic Field Manipulation.
Those abilities might have been intimidating just a few days ago, but now…
Carem inhaled deeply, enjoying the massive amount of Warp flowing in. It was almost enough for him to get his sixth Break, hence the slaughter. The sheer amount of Mind he’d had when he’d had his Break last night at the height of the riots… He’d been able to use the Warp get a toehold on half a dozen Abilities he’d scavenged from the Genosians and Nadia, along with raising his Body and Mind a substantial amount, putting most Legends to shame in every respect.
His power significantly upgraded, Carem had been able to easily use Nadia’s mind magics to bring the insular Diocese to heel. It had been a simple matter to sledgehammer Trade’s mind into submission, then move over into his Body.
It was about time, Carem thought, flexing his masculine hands, more than satisfied with reclaiming his lost limb and penis. After the transfer to the superior body, he’d decided to snap the little bitch’s neck. She made the same plea as always, saying that they should work together.
What a joke. With a body like this, I can have anything, anyone I want. With a sixth Break…
The world trembles at the thought that I’ll reach the Sixth Break. He thought with a grin. Now, all he had to do was do the mind-magic equivalent of cudgeling this brat over the head before draining him of every bit of extra Mind he could.
“Hey Calvin, long time no see, do you have some business with the diocese of Trade?” Carem said, maintaining his cover of being the diocese for as long as he could as he approached. Closer range meant more effective mental bludgeoning.
“Drop it, Carem,” Calvin said with a scowl. “Don’t try to bullshit me. I’m going to tear you out of the soil of Allast like a diseased plant. Get ready to experience death again.”
This arrogant little prick thinks he’s better than me?
“You little shit.” Carem lunged out with his Bent.
Dominate Mind.
50/65 Bent Remaining
The spell took effect, and Carem narrowed his eyes, tuned into the kid’s mind, savoring the act of crushing it while tasting the last sane thoughts the boy’s mind would ever have.
̵̛̱̥̤̤̰̩̝̿͐͗̏͌͗ͅỹ̸̡̢̫̟͕͍̠̘̱̠̒͐̉͑̋̚͜͝į̷͍͕̝̥̲̗͇̟̗̪͇̍̏̄’̷̻͖̼͇̗̗̥͚̦̋̋̚͜͜͠p̷̛̱̬̩̖̝͕̝͕̓͊̒̄͑̈p̸̛͔̃͑̅͐̃̈́͂͆͗̿̈́͘͠ę̶͔̜̹͖͚̃̐͛̓̕į̵̖̹̳͓͐͛̆͗͑͊̀̐̊͊̓̚ ̴̺̞̀̉̔̋̈́̕y̵̙͚̱̮͍̥̠͊͊͒̓̊̈͛͛̉̀͝ư̶͙̽̈́̊͊̀̅ḯ̸̛͙̦͖̅̍͗̇̈́̚͝͠k̷̢͎̣͖̮̻̠̺̪̫͙̘̺͚̋̊̈́̈́͂́̈́͘͝ǫ̵̛̹̯̦͙͔́̃͌̎̈̈́͌̋͗̉͒̅͘͠ ̵̨̡̛̩̫͈͎̄̈́͗́́͘͘ͅͅp̷̤̗̊i̴̖͗́́̏̏͑̅͘̕͝͝y̴͉̖͉̬̥͇̺͓̮̣̙̰͐̆̌̊̽̽̾̑̚͜͠͠i̸̤̖͎͚͐̌͊̓̎̾̊̔͐k̴̲͔̮͖̙͖͉̱͚̊͗̾̒͛́͊́̈́̅͑͘̚͜i̸͔̦͚̜̟̹̟͗͆̓̍́͒ ̸͙͓̙̤͎̜̬͖̉̅̉̋̓̑̒̇̆́́̉̕̕ḵ̸̓̾̃i̴̧̡͉̘̽̊́ÿ̷̮̜̗̰̘̫͖̞͚̺̦́̈̓͘͝ā̸̢̼͚̲͖̪̲̇͌̽͋͒́̅̂̍͗̎̉͝ ̷̢̢̨̧͙̖̘̦̦̬̦̼̰̝͙̾̌̀̂͗̌́̑͘p̴̧̹̉͌̂͐̅̚ö̴͚̙́̔̋͂k̸̟̪͖̹̬̱̞̻̐̀̊͘ͅo̷̧̠̗̲̺̞̠̘͈̣̗͍̩̥͍͒̃.̸̬̠̳̜̟͙̖̈̎̈͝ ̷͕̟̱͚̥̯̭̩̩͒̑ ̷̢̡̰̠̱̱͇͖̤̘͇̘̜̈́̋͑͐̓̾̕͠K̴̢̻͇̝͕̞̮̳̞͎̪̋͊o̵̧͔̹͖̣̬̝͙̳͆̾́̈́͜’̸̩̫̠̰͔̥̗̲͍̪̱̊̈́̍̃͌y̷̤̘͕̥͔̞̣̠͌̽͐̀̌̔̽́̕i̴̥͔͛̓̈́̿͊͆̓̾̍̆̈̈́p̴̺͋̀̄͒̊̍̍̉́́͂͘ǫ̴͕̩͙͓̹͉̪̰͇͚̈́͋͂̍͜ ̶̢͑̽k̷̛̯̖̞̳̓̆̄͊̋̈́̎͋́́̕͠͝ỉ̸̧̡̛̯̙̙͕̞̖̝̝̩͌͊̍́̅͘͠y̷̞̫̪̮̞̙͂ą̸͔̳̥̍̂͂̍͌̓̏͆ ̷̨̣͈̗̟̙̠̰̹̰̯̆͛̀̽̉͋͝ͅp̶̢̢̪̬̭̫̝̰̺̳̅̽̓̒̋ǫ̶͍̟̻̲̭̹̯̱̫̩̰͈̟͂̏͂̂̒̐̅͊̓̕͜͠k̶̼̬̲͖̤̻̱̲̫̥̩̲̠̥̓͐̈̍͗̋̏͊͑̀̃͠ö̶̧̱̮͇́̓̈́̄̔̆͘̕͜į̷̫͉͖̦̽ ̵͎͖̍̀̈́̆̇͑̑̍̅̈́Y̶͖̬̫̲͕̖̩̏͆́̈́̍́̃̇͗̎͘͠ḯ̶̳͓͉̭̝̭̻̈́̉͂͗͒̈́̇̽̈́̏͜p̶̢̢̛̺̯͔̦̝̼̖͌̑͘i̸̢̛̛̼̺̣̖̓͑̂̃̐̚k̸͉͕̞̮̙͙̔̀̄̊͆ͅį̸̧̤̝̫̌̿ǘ̶̩͔̖̪̣͊ ̷̠̝̩̗̉̌̋̇͗̾͌̈́͗̎p̷̡̠͖̝̰̟̞̤̠̰͌̊͊͂͌͒̇́̌͗͂̇̑̒̎ͅi̸̡̛̗̐̒̈̈̉̈́̊͋͑̽̃͊̚ủ̵̙̫̫̏̒͘ ̵̧̜̙̪̲͎͙͙̖͔͔̫̖͗́̋̾͛́̀̊͜ḱ̵̤̰̂͋i̷̧̬̟̪̲͙̩̼̝͚̟͈͑̓͋͊̃͠ ̸̧̺͍̣̰̼̹̪̜̉̏̄̀̒͝͠ ̴͇̹̉C̷̛̣͚̣͂͋͂̉̂̍̏͌͊̆̓̚̕͠å̵̛͉̍̂͌̇͌̆̎́̄̎̊̈́r̵̢̠̯̙̘̟͓̥̲̐̆̈́͒̽̇̓e̸̡̳͉͔̣̞͛͌͑͑͋̇̈́̔̊̌͒̂͝͠ͅṃ̵̻̺͎̪̹̄̂́̐̈́͊̕̕͝ͅ
The fuck?
Carem grabbed the brat’s mind in his metaphysical hands and squeezed, but he was rebuffed by a barrage of nonsensical gibberish.
y̶̨̢̪͂̀͊̈͋̀̌̽̄̂̽̚͝ͅi̸̻̻͈͚̥̺̫̋͌̓͜͝’̵̢̨̢̗̬͈͎͇͚̹̞̓̀́̌̿͑̆̾͗̚͝͠ṕ̷̨̡̢̪̰̉̒͒p̷͎͈͖̘͑̾̒͊̉̏̏͛̿͋̀e̵̩̟̼̪͂͛̎̃͐̍̈́̃î̸̡̮̳̱̯͇͂̑̂͋͑̑̅̅̀̏̇́͊͜͝ ̴̛̛͍̥͔͙̯̝̭̳̪͖͉͚̠͚̒͑̂̈̿̃̆͜y̴̦̠̦̻͎͈͕̓̒̈́̌͠͠ŭ̵̧̫̪i̸̢̨̡̱̻̤̘͓͖̮͎͎̜̠͒k̶̩̦̪̫̖̈̊́̏̆̽͋̊̽̊͌̾͝͝ờ̸̡̢̗͖̖͙̮̦͔̰̆̀ ̸̣̤̩̫͎͍͙͑̂̋̅̚̚k̵̼̻̭̺̽̍̊̏͘͠ḭ̷̛̟͖̻̏̓̀́̐̃̇̅̂̕͠ỹ̵̡̢̧̬͚̟͖̥̗̺͎͚͉̤͗́̇͘̚͝ą̴̨͉̻̹̖͎̹̟̯̝͙̬͑̇̒̀̾͑͋́̉̃͆̌͜͠͝͠ ̸̧̛̼̠̹̯̯̮̺͈̮̉̍̽͠p̶̜̺͔͔̀̀o̶̡̢̳̳̫̾̏̃͌͛́̓̀͌̀͘͝͠k̶̨̯͉̖̘͚̪̯̫̘͖̻͎͕̾͊̚̚͠o̶̰̱͚͘͜.̸̢̨̘̮͎͎̇ ̸̢̪̣̺͎̘̊̃̓̌̇͌̂ ̴̧͉̖̹̰̭̖͇̭̋̃̈͑́͒K̵̼̤̰͙̱̮̬͖͎̍͜͜͜ͅo̷̬͍̥̲̦͛̽̏’̶̛͖͕͖͛͑̊͊͋̃́̽͌͗̈́̚͝ý̷̡̨͈͉̠̘̲̙̟̓̇̌̎̆̾̅̏͆i̷̹̻͔̗̟̠͂̒͒͑͝͠͝p̵̱͇̳͍̝̈̌̉̓͊̑̈́̾o̵̡̢̭̤̙̳̦͍͙͕̝͂̎̔̄̀̃́͘͝ͅ ̸̛̱͎̯͔̀̎̏̾̒̈͒̄̈́ḱ̷̢̛̪͚͚̬̟̲̪͕̝̪͕̣̀̈̿̽͐̈́͋̽͒͠ͅi̶̧̝̹͉̟̝̫͒͑̏̌̎̑͂͐̈́͊̕y̸̤͍͖̪̾̽̄̃̔à̶̡̼͕̙ ̷̛͈͙̿̈́̀́̂̈́͗̚̚͜ṗ̸̡̠̜̠̰͍̞̣̭͙̜̣̐͊̀͠o̴̹̯͂́̐k̷̹͈̣͍̖̙̰̬̻̐̋̆̓̿͊͜ǫ̴̧͙̭̳̱̟́̅̿͒̽̅̑̅̋̀̕ͅȉ̶̝͈͙̉̋̈́̎͠ͅ ̴̛̟͕̼̤̇̃̑̿̈́̈́̋͂̂͋͘͠͠Y̶͓̣̖̻̲̖̎̿į̶̢͓̩̱̮̘̈́̀̔̍͝p̷̧̡͕̻̘̟͖̹̠̌̈́͑̑͒͑́̚i̶̛̲̔k̸̢̢̫̟̥̙͓̥̖͙̯̈̊î̶̟͓̖̭̭͖̎̂͂̌͝ử̸̱̲̭̽̋ ̶̧͓͓̣̝̜͙̲̺͓̦̲̏̾̂̏̎̄̍͊̇͂̀͘͝p̵͚̟̼̞̺̻̪̱̮̗͛̓͗̀̐̑͂͐̊̆͐̄̃̎̕i̵̹͆̓́̂͠͝ư̴̧̨̠̺̠͇̹̳̱̩̂͑̄͐̅̃̋̈́̊̋͜ ̷̡̖̣̹̬͇͎̻͍͍̈́̐̀͒͂̈́͛k̶͇̬̈́̃̍̋͜͜i̸̧͙͍̰͒͒͆̂̌̌̿͌̍͂̀͝ ̸̢͎̜͖͍̜̥̥̺̦̗̼̟͉̌͂̔̚͘͝p̵̬̤͕̽̏̍́̈́͝͝i̴̺͇̜̿̏̂̈́͊̊́͌̓y̵̡̨͕̤͉̻̲̣̼̪̠̜͈̰̦͛i̵̦̠͎͊͋̉͜ķ̶̢̜͓͓̝͕͓͈͎̌̈́̂̉͛ḯ̶̖͇͈̤͓̖̤̮̩̥͓͙̿̈́̌̇̂̂̈̅͊͗͛̕͝͠ͅ ̸̞̻͑̈̒̉̏̀̊̈́͌I̵̛͇͉̮̯͚̜̩͚̥͓͎̊p̵̧̡̖̪̗̺͎̫͔̥̳̩͚͍̗̿̈́͆p̸̢̢͉͙̻̳̬̪̟̩͙̩͔̿̈́̄̆͂̾̆̃͘̕ȩ̴̡̨̛̬̥̞̙̖̣̒̍̀̌i̵̜̋̋̊̈́͋̄̿ ̶͔̀͐͂͆k̶͙̂̔̂̽̉͗̾͊̃͋̀̂̄̚ī̶̛̩̪͖̹̮̟͙̩͈͎̱̊̎̈́̇̎̀͜͜͠ͅÿ̴̳̤͇͍͔̼̗̦̻̋͗̀ṷ̴͂̈́͊͌͗͛̉̓̇̌̕͝i̵̢͙̺̫͍̳̤͇̝̋͗̾̄ ̸̡̰̘͔͓̻̥̜̻͕͉̬̮̙̀̄̈͗̊̀͑̌̊̀́̂̂͘y̶̨̳̩͖̙͔̘̖̎̓̑́̔̒́̏͊͌͑͝u̵̢̧̡̢͚͈͖̘̝̹͍͊̀́̐̀̾͐͗p̵̜͔̤͈̻̾̏̒̄̓̔̅͊̈̚͘͝͠ ̷̤̮͎̫̲͈̻͓̰͉̩͗̍͌͒̌͋̅̆̉̋͒̎̽͂̽p̴̳͈͇̖͇̯͙̩̦̈̈͋̈́́̆͝͝î̷̳̲̤̰̮͑͑̂́̄̅̈ÿ̸̠̰̯̳͎̫̜͖́̈́̽̈̀ͅu̸̯̙̣͙̹̦͌̏͐́̏̚͜͠k̶̡̛̼̲̫̖̪͈̪̼̫̰̫̮̙͙͛͛̎̎̚i̴͓͚͕̘͓̠̼̘̦̠̓̃̍͋̐͘͘ͅ ̷̧̖̹͖͍̜̭͎̼̯͖͇̗̊ķ̷̼̙̞̺̙͖̮̬̺̱̱͆̈́̓̃̓̽̉͠ĩ̶̛͚̇̏̉́͐̔̿̉ ̸̛͍̭̦̠̅̃̽̒͌͝n̵̢̢̢̠̯̙̝͗̃̈́̈́̓̀̏͘͜͝ĩ̴̬͕̥̘̙̟͓͉́k̷̢̛͐̔̔̽̂͌ị̸̘̜̖̻͔̳̪̀̅̀̋͂̐̾̚̚͘͝p̴̮̠͌̃̈́̀̃o̴̩͍͓̥̫̯͉̲̬̻̒̓̐͛̒͊̕ ̴̧̦̰͋͆̒̃̾̆͆̎̈́̐́͜͠͝p̶̭̏̈̉o̵̧̱͚͔̤̺̝̭̩̗͙̒͌̎͆̑͋͂̐̔̽̕͠ÿ̷̡̛̖͎̯̤̖͎̠́͆̐̂̈́̅́͘͝͝u̵̬̲͎̼͕̾̆̌͛̋̊̐͝͠ ̶͕̥͓͔̥̬̐̓̽̽͐̾͆̌́͛̕͝͠i̴̢̳̫̞͜͝k̶̢̙͖͇͖͈͉͈͔͚̽̿̌̎̀p̶̣̘̈́̎̐̈̾̾̽̚̚ơ̷̧̢̧͚͈̺̥̺̣̤̜̅̉̀̈͝ ̴̧̘̠̣̬͔̝̱͚͙͎͔̽͛̄̄̔̚k̶̡̡̖̹̥͕͔͍̦̠͎̥͔͎̈́̈̒̒͗̉͛͌̔̆͒͌̈́͝͠i̶̳̺͇̼̲̬̠̎́̽y̶̲̹͔̦͑͗͊̊̒̈́̇͆͒̏̐̆͘i̵̢̛̗͈̿n̵̤̔̈̍̃͜k̶̨̯͚͉̻̬̯̗̙̫̯̞̬̳̂̽̅̕u̴͖̻̝̫̭̎̔̄́̂̾͌͋̆̎̐̔͜͝͠i̶̡̛͎̯̪̹̩͍̘̥̳̦͕̻̇̊̂̑̄͑̒̾̇͑͠͝.̵͈̬̎̏͒̑̈́͂̓̌̓̑́̕͘͝͝
What is going on here? This works on everyone! I’ve got more raw Mind than the King of Iletha, I’d swear it!
“Ah.”
By the time Carem looked up, Calvin was already flying toward him, exploding into a cloud of green smoke.
***Calvin***
Trade, I kinda wish I knew what your name was. If I had just pushed forward with the plan to kill the bastard and murdered…everyone who stood in my way, you’d be…just as dead. Well, at least you wouldn’t be Carem. There’s a fate worse than death.
Sometimes there’s no good options.
Yeah, I got it, let’s kill this bastard here and now, avoid any further complications.
Agreed.
Calvin felt Carem send a piercing dart of Bent toward him, intangible and seeking his brain.
Crap. Calvin sent out a thin stream of Bent to pick apart the dart, intercepting it with his whorls when it came closer, but even after he took most of the punch out of it, the spell had a staggering amount of force behind it, revealing a level of raw Mind that Calvin wasn’t comfortable with a crazy psycho having.
Your Stability is not strong enough to shrug off the effects. Your Will has begun digesting the foreign Bent, ETA 3 seconds.
Shit! He got me! Three seconds was a long time in a fight to the death. Plenty of time to lower someone’s guard and hit them with a killing blow. A burst of adrenaline went through Calvin’s heart as he prepared himself to summon some sort of last ditch effort to bypass whatever kind of control was placed over him, but…
In those three seconds, a kind of hissing, white noise, combined with a sensation of pressure assaulted Calvin’s senses, but nothing more came of it than that.
I can still move, he thought, flexing his fingers. He was still in control of his faculties as well, Probably. Thank you Language Barrier. Although this wasn’t the way I wanted to test it, I very much appreciate the assist.
Calvin didn’t want to wait around for Carem to try deciphering Ooze-Weaver speech.
He could tuck himself back into his shell of Heart of the Swarm now. No sense letting this guy have any sort of way to hurt him, now that he knew for sure what he was dealing with.
Calvin opened the tiny valves releasing compressed air onto his palms, resulting in an explosion of forward momentum.
Calvinian Summoning
Chimera
Atom Ant
Calvinian Summoning
Chimera
Atom Ant
Heart of the swarm
36/47 Bent remaining
Eight elite Nadia’s sprang into existence from the smoke trailing behind him before Calvin himself burst into four Battle Forms, using the Refraction Spinner organs to accelerate even faster towards his prey.
Carem’s eyes widened for a second before he breathed in sharply and exhaled…some kind of purple mist. It spread out unnaturally, widening out up and down to create a hemisphere in front of him.
Calvin came to a desperate halt in front of it, but one of his battle forms touched the creation with its foot, getting sucked whole into the strange purple barrier. Calvin had the disconcerting experience of getting absorbed before the summon poofed.
The purple rippled, preparing to do something.
Force the opponent to react: Karen’s training coming in handy even when he was a strange amalgam of people and monster parts.
Calvin backed off with one battle form while the other two lunged forward, aiming their fingers at a central point.
The space-warping powers of the refraction spinners deployed in a split second, blowing a hole through the shield, through which the reserved summon plunged through, aiming for Carem’s chiseled face.
Carem swung a hand up and caught Calvin’s punch, with a near-Baroke level of power. He inhaled sharply again.
Calvin opened his mouth, squeezed the glands under his tongue and spat a torrent of fire, consuming the newest purple exhalation even at the first purple shield burst outward, impaling his two spares.
Damnit. Still, one casting of Calvinian Summoning, and he was already at a three-to-two Bent consumption advantage. A fight Between Bent users often depended on who could make the other run out first, and Calvin liked his summons because they were efficient.
Calvin closed his eyes against the blooming heat and strained his neck, lunging forward with his forehead.
Crack!
His head shot through the swirling cloud of orange flame and purple mist, catching Carem’s face. The killer’s exhale was cut short, purple smoke shooting out of his nose as Calvin’s headbutt jammed his head down, jaw closed.
Nadia, if you wouldn’t mind. Calvin thought, pulling away from a defensive jab, the skin on his face peeling away. It wasn’t lethal damage, but it wasn’t good, either.
Absolutely.
“Hi!” Nadia said, zooming past him, her waist wings humming as one of her eight caught Carem in the midsection with a kick, sending him tumbling downward. “Remember me!?”
Carem recovered from his fall in a fraction of a second, before dancing around the faint ripples in the air. Well, most of them.
A gout of blood jetted out from the body hopper’s shoulder as he was cut from shoulder to ribcage by the ripples of space.
In the space of a breath, Carem reached into his skull and yanked out a tooth.
No way.
The tooth and the wound glowed a brilliant white, and the wound on his shoulder was welded shut with a raw looking scar.
It didn’t stop there, though, as Carem reached up to the scar on his shoulder and peeled it off. The scar turned into a curved blade of shimmering space, seemingly growing roots into his hand
The fuck is that!?
The killer sped up, catching one of Nadia’s attacks with the blade. Nadia, who’d gotten used to never having any resistance to the special blades in her fingertips, blinked in surprise as they were intercepted, followed by a fist to the throat.
That Nadia was bisected by the sword before he lunged forward, skimming forward on the planet’s magnetic field, trying to get to Calvin before Nadia could encircle him.
Despite his relatively good showing, he was still hanging on by a thread.
Why give him a chance?
Hah. Not just yet, buddy, Calvin thought, backing away, keeping the distance between them the same, as attrition favored Calvin.
Case in point, Calvin thought as his body reached critical mass of Warp and Bad Penny triggered, splitting his Combat Form in two, one with a blistering face, the other perfectly healthy.
Calvin regained his distance, putting the healthy one in the rear to recover more bodies while using the damaged body as a buffer.
Carem seemed to realize he was being toyed with, as his expression went from focused to pissed, his lips downturned in a snarl halfway between hardened criminal and angry baby.
“Fuck!”
The body hopper immediately changed tactics, diving for the ground.
Can’t allow that, Calvin thought, dismissing his Battle Form and appearing in midair again.
The downside of heart of the swarm was that he couldn’t use or regenerate Bent.
And to box this asshole in, Calvin needed to cast a bit more.
Calvin tapped the thermite on his belt.
Shaping
35/47 Bent remaining.
Dupdomancy has reached level 23!
***Carem***
I’ll go through the ground, bastard can’t follow me through there – Ack!
There was the flickering sensation of Bent flowing past him, and the ground caught fire. Suddenly there was a molten pool of burning iron underneath him, and if Carem got any closer, he’d be losing a lot more than his eyebrows.
“Where ya going?” The brat asked with a raised brow in flawless Juntai.
Carem was looking for an escape route as the seven identical bitches – no, make that eight, one of them split again. DAMN – swooped in to surround him.
The situation made something snap inside him.
K̶͖͍̖͂̂ͣ͆̚i̟̘͙͉̽̊l͈̝̱̖̙͞l̐̏́̚͜ ͖̩͖̝̻̲̹ͩͮ͞hͨ̃͑ͤͣ̈́ͮỉ̢͔͓̩̤͗̎ͣm̘͓̯ͦ̍̂̅̐ͣͮ
He was no longer interested in surviving. The only priority he had was killing the smug bastard. Carem was far too angry to wonder if this was some kind of outside influence.
Chaos Lung
44/65 Bent remaining
He breathed in and mixed the Bent in his lungs. The air got heavier, straining his lungs as he breathed the Consuming Mist out, mentally pulling it close to himself and forming an armor out of it.
Die! Carem thought as he charged forward.
***Calvin***
You gave me too much range, Calvin thought.
Gradual Multi-shaping.
Calvin created a complex summon combining the Crystal Lattice catalysts wrapped in a heavy tube of Abyssal steel, along with a constant supply of explosives and detonators.
With series of pops, chunks of Bent disrupting crystal the size of Calvin’s thumb began flying out of the tube fast enough to tear through sound itself.
Did…Did you just make a bullet hose?
Carem’s magical armor was torn off in a fraction of a second, followed by his face, skull, and the rest of his body.
Bits and piece of gory flesh rained down to the ground, where they sizzled on the rapidly cooling sheet of red-hot iron.
I like to think of it as a shrapnel hose, Calvin thought, dialing the Gradual split of the crystals and the explosives down to nothing, leaving himself with a simple tube of Abyssal Steel.
A rapidly heating tube of abyssal steel, given the complete lack of a cooling system.
“Ah, hot!” Calvin shouted, dropping the cylinder.
That was an oversight, Elliot said, sounding smug.
You’re just jealous you didn’t think of it first.
Bitch, I know what a gun is! You’re so basic it hurts.
Whatever, we’ve got to cover the rest of the city and get everything under –
Calvin started as he felt a gaze of pure, delighted rage, pressing against his skin from directly ahead. Calvin lifted his gaze from the tumbling shrapnel hose and spotted a tall figure floating in the air in front of him.
It – and calvin was fairly sure it was an it – was swathed in rags, covering its face and body, but he could make out bits of pebbled skin, heavy, black fingernails, and some kind of crest rising above the creature’s head. And its legs were reverse jointed.
Digitigrade, Elliot felt the need to correct him.
“Can I help you?” Calvin asked, setting his hands on his belt, pushing the stinging pain of his burnt fingers aside.
“Grethna. You don’t know me yet, but you will once I have the System unlock your memories. My name is Pasha Llortan, and after I have my revenge for Pelior, I’ll be bringing your soul back to the fleet, where we’ll burn the location of the King in Exile out of you.”
Calvin’s hair stood on end.
I don’t think this guy’s fucking around. As a matter of fact…Holy shit! That’s a Harbinger! Run! RUN LIKE HELL!
There was a flicker of light as the creature appeared in front of him, and with casual ease, delivered a backhand that shattered Calvin’s jaw.
Macronomicon
Chapter 204: 204: The Battle
Carem knew the boy was a summoner, and he had the penchant for hiding inside his own summons. He had tons of bits and pieces of information about the kid, including the fact that he was known as ‘the wasp’ on the international scene.
For obvious reasons, Carem thought with a smirk as the wasps dissolved into green smoke which imploded into the pale-skinned twerp. The kid caught himself in midair after a short dip, seemingly resting on his palms and feet, flying somehow without the Juntai Ability Magnetic Field Manipulation.
Those abilities might have been intimidating just a few days ago, but now…
Carem inhaled deeply, enjoying the massive amount of Warp flowing in. It was almost enough for him to get his sixth Break, hence the slaughter. The sheer amount of Mind he’d had when he’d had his Break last night at the height of the riots… He’d been able to use the Warp get a toehold on half a dozen Abilities he’d scavenged from the Genosians and Nadia, along with raising his Body and Mind a substantial amount, putting most Legends to shame in every respect.
His power significantly upgraded, Carem had been able to easily use Nadia’s mind magics to bring the insular Diocese to heel. It had been a simple matter to sledgehammer Trade’s mind into submission, then move over into his Body.
It was about time, Carem thought, flexing his masculine hands, more than satisfied with reclaiming his lost limb and penis. After the transfer to the superior body, he’d decided to snap the little bitch’s neck. She made the same plea as always, saying that they should work together.
What a joke. With a body like this, I can have anything, anyone I want. With a sixth Break…
The world trembles at the thought that I’ll reach the Sixth Break. He thought with a grin. Now, all he had to do was do the mind-magic equivalent of cudgeling this brat over the head before draining him of every bit of extra Mind he could.
“Hey Calvin, long time no see, do you have some business with the diocese of Trade?” Carem said, maintaining his cover of being the diocese for as long as he could as he approached. Closer range meant more effective mental bludgeoning.
“Drop it, Carem,” Calvin said with a scowl. “Don’t try to bullshit me. I’m going to tear you out of the soil of Allast like a diseased plant. Get ready to experience death again.”
This arrogant little prick thinks he’s better than me?
“You little shit.” Carem lunged out with his Bent.
Dominate Mind.
50/65 Bent Remaining
The spell took effect, and Carem narrowed his eyes, tuned into the kid’s mind, savoring the act of crushing it while tasting the last sane thoughts the boy’s mind would ever have.
̵̛̱̥̤̤̰̩̝̿͐͗̏͌͗ͅỹ̸̡̢̫̟͕͍̠̘̱̠̒͐̉͑̋̚͜͝į̷͍͕̝̥̲̗͇̟̗̪͇̍̏̄’̷̻͖̼͇̗̗̥͚̦̋̋̚͜͜͠p̷̛̱̬̩̖̝͕̝͕̓͊̒̄͑̈p̸̛͔̃͑̅͐̃̈́͂͆͗̿̈́͘͠ę̶͔̜̹͖͚̃̐͛̓̕į̵̖̹̳͓͐͛̆͗͑͊̀̐̊͊̓̚ ̴̺̞̀̉̔̋̈́̕y̵̙͚̱̮͍̥̠͊͊͒̓̊̈͛͛̉̀͝ư̶͙̽̈́̊͊̀̅ḯ̸̛͙̦͖̅̍͗̇̈́̚͝͠k̷̢͎̣͖̮̻̠̺̪̫͙̘̺͚̋̊̈́̈́͂́̈́͘͝ǫ̵̛̹̯̦͙͔́̃͌̎̈̈́͌̋͗̉͒̅͘͠ ̵̨̡̛̩̫͈͎̄̈́͗́́͘͘ͅͅp̷̤̗̊i̴̖͗́́̏̏͑̅͘̕͝͝y̴͉̖͉̬̥͇̺͓̮̣̙̰͐̆̌̊̽̽̾̑̚͜͠͠i̸̤̖͎͚͐̌͊̓̎̾̊̔͐k̴̲͔̮͖̙͖͉̱͚̊͗̾̒͛́͊́̈́̅͑͘̚͜i̸͔̦͚̜̟̹̟͗͆̓̍́͒ ̸͙͓̙̤͎̜̬͖̉̅̉̋̓̑̒̇̆́́̉̕̕ḵ̸̓̾̃i̴̧̡͉̘̽̊́ÿ̷̮̜̗̰̘̫͖̞͚̺̦́̈̓͘͝ā̸̢̼͚̲͖̪̲̇͌̽͋͒́̅̂̍͗̎̉͝ ̷̢̢̨̧͙̖̘̦̦̬̦̼̰̝͙̾̌̀̂͗̌́̑͘p̴̧̹̉͌̂͐̅̚ö̴͚̙́̔̋͂k̸̟̪͖̹̬̱̞̻̐̀̊͘ͅo̷̧̠̗̲̺̞̠̘͈̣̗͍̩̥͍͒̃.̸̬̠̳̜̟͙̖̈̎̈͝ ̷͕̟̱͚̥̯̭̩̩͒̑ ̷̢̡̰̠̱̱͇͖̤̘͇̘̜̈́̋͑͐̓̾̕͠K̴̢̻͇̝͕̞̮̳̞͎̪̋͊o̵̧͔̹͖̣̬̝͙̳͆̾́̈́͜’̸̩̫̠̰͔̥̗̲͍̪̱̊̈́̍̃͌y̷̤̘͕̥͔̞̣̠͌̽͐̀̌̔̽́̕i̴̥͔͛̓̈́̿͊͆̓̾̍̆̈̈́p̴̺͋̀̄͒̊̍̍̉́́͂͘ǫ̴͕̩͙͓̹͉̪̰͇͚̈́͋͂̍͜ ̶̢͑̽k̷̛̯̖̞̳̓̆̄͊̋̈́̎͋́́̕͠͝ỉ̸̧̡̛̯̙̙͕̞̖̝̝̩͌͊̍́̅͘͠y̷̞̫̪̮̞̙͂ą̸͔̳̥̍̂͂̍͌̓̏͆ ̷̨̣͈̗̟̙̠̰̹̰̯̆͛̀̽̉͋͝ͅp̶̢̢̪̬̭̫̝̰̺̳̅̽̓̒̋ǫ̶͍̟̻̲̭̹̯̱̫̩̰͈̟͂̏͂̂̒̐̅͊̓̕͜͠k̶̼̬̲͖̤̻̱̲̫̥̩̲̠̥̓͐̈̍͗̋̏͊͑̀̃͠ö̶̧̱̮͇́̓̈́̄̔̆͘̕͜į̷̫͉͖̦̽ ̵͎͖̍̀̈́̆̇͑̑̍̅̈́Y̶͖̬̫̲͕̖̩̏͆́̈́̍́̃̇͗̎͘͠ḯ̶̳͓͉̭̝̭̻̈́̉͂͗͒̈́̇̽̈́̏͜p̶̢̢̛̺̯͔̦̝̼̖͌̑͘i̸̢̛̛̼̺̣̖̓͑̂̃̐̚k̸͉͕̞̮̙͙̔̀̄̊͆ͅį̸̧̤̝̫̌̿ǘ̶̩͔̖̪̣͊ ̷̠̝̩̗̉̌̋̇͗̾͌̈́͗̎p̷̡̠͖̝̰̟̞̤̠̰͌̊͊͂͌͒̇́̌͗͂̇̑̒̎ͅi̸̡̛̗̐̒̈̈̉̈́̊͋͑̽̃͊̚ủ̵̙̫̫̏̒͘ ̵̧̜̙̪̲͎͙͙̖͔͔̫̖͗́̋̾͛́̀̊͜ḱ̵̤̰̂͋i̷̧̬̟̪̲͙̩̼̝͚̟͈͑̓͋͊̃͠ ̸̧̺͍̣̰̼̹̪̜̉̏̄̀̒͝͠ ̴͇̹̉C̷̛̣͚̣͂͋͂̉̂̍̏͌͊̆̓̚̕͠å̵̛͉̍̂͌̇͌̆̎́̄̎̊̈́r̵̢̠̯̙̘̟͓̥̲̐̆̈́͒̽̇̓e̸̡̳͉͔̣̞͛͌͑͑͋̇̈́̔̊̌͒̂͝͠ͅṃ̵̻̺͎̪̹̄̂́̐̈́͊̕̕͝ͅ
The fuck?
Carem grabbed the brat’s mind in his metaphysical hands and squeezed, but he was rebuffed by a barrage of nonsensical gibberish.
y̶̨̢̪͂̀͊̈͋̀̌̽̄̂̽̚͝ͅi̸̻̻͈͚̥̺̫̋͌̓͜͝’̵̢̨̢̗̬͈͎͇͚̹̞̓̀́̌̿͑̆̾͗̚͝͠ṕ̷̨̡̢̪̰̉̒͒p̷͎͈͖̘͑̾̒͊̉̏̏͛̿͋̀e̵̩̟̼̪͂͛̎̃͐̍̈́̃î̸̡̮̳̱̯͇͂̑̂͋͑̑̅̅̀̏̇́͊͜͝ ̴̛̛͍̥͔͙̯̝̭̳̪͖͉͚̠͚̒͑̂̈̿̃̆͜y̴̦̠̦̻͎͈͕̓̒̈́̌͠͠ŭ̵̧̫̪i̸̢̨̡̱̻̤̘͓͖̮͎͎̜̠͒k̶̩̦̪̫̖̈̊́̏̆̽͋̊̽̊͌̾͝͝ờ̸̡̢̗͖̖͙̮̦͔̰̆̀ ̸̣̤̩̫͎͍͙͑̂̋̅̚̚k̵̼̻̭̺̽̍̊̏͘͠ḭ̷̛̟͖̻̏̓̀́̐̃̇̅̂̕͠ỹ̵̡̢̧̬͚̟͖̥̗̺͎͚͉̤͗́̇͘̚͝ą̴̨͉̻̹̖͎̹̟̯̝͙̬͑̇̒̀̾͑͋́̉̃͆̌͜͠͝͠ ̸̧̛̼̠̹̯̯̮̺͈̮̉̍̽͠p̶̜̺͔͔̀̀o̶̡̢̳̳̫̾̏̃͌͛́̓̀͌̀͘͝͠k̶̨̯͉̖̘͚̪̯̫̘͖̻͎͕̾͊̚̚͠o̶̰̱͚͘͜.̸̢̨̘̮͎͎̇ ̸̢̪̣̺͎̘̊̃̓̌̇͌̂ ̴̧͉̖̹̰̭̖͇̭̋̃̈͑́͒K̵̼̤̰͙̱̮̬͖͎̍͜͜͜ͅo̷̬͍̥̲̦͛̽̏’̶̛͖͕͖͛͑̊͊͋̃́̽͌͗̈́̚͝ý̷̡̨͈͉̠̘̲̙̟̓̇̌̎̆̾̅̏͆i̷̹̻͔̗̟̠͂̒͒͑͝͠͝p̵̱͇̳͍̝̈̌̉̓͊̑̈́̾o̵̡̢̭̤̙̳̦͍͙͕̝͂̎̔̄̀̃́͘͝ͅ ̸̛̱͎̯͔̀̎̏̾̒̈͒̄̈́ḱ̷̢̛̪͚͚̬̟̲̪͕̝̪͕̣̀̈̿̽͐̈́͋̽͒͠ͅi̶̧̝̹͉̟̝̫͒͑̏̌̎̑͂͐̈́͊̕y̸̤͍͖̪̾̽̄̃̔à̶̡̼͕̙ ̷̛͈͙̿̈́̀́̂̈́͗̚̚͜ṗ̸̡̠̜̠̰͍̞̣̭͙̜̣̐͊̀͠o̴̹̯͂́̐k̷̹͈̣͍̖̙̰̬̻̐̋̆̓̿͊͜ǫ̴̧͙̭̳̱̟́̅̿͒̽̅̑̅̋̀̕ͅȉ̶̝͈͙̉̋̈́̎͠ͅ ̴̛̟͕̼̤̇̃̑̿̈́̈́̋͂̂͋͘͠͠Y̶͓̣̖̻̲̖̎̿į̶̢͓̩̱̮̘̈́̀̔̍͝p̷̧̡͕̻̘̟͖̹̠̌̈́͑̑͒͑́̚i̶̛̲̔k̸̢̢̫̟̥̙͓̥̖͙̯̈̊î̶̟͓̖̭̭͖̎̂͂̌͝ử̸̱̲̭̽̋ ̶̧͓͓̣̝̜͙̲̺͓̦̲̏̾̂̏̎̄̍͊̇͂̀͘͝p̵͚̟̼̞̺̻̪̱̮̗͛̓͗̀̐̑͂͐̊̆͐̄̃̎̕i̵̹͆̓́̂͠͝ư̴̧̨̠̺̠͇̹̳̱̩̂͑̄͐̅̃̋̈́̊̋͜ ̷̡̖̣̹̬͇͎̻͍͍̈́̐̀͒͂̈́͛k̶͇̬̈́̃̍̋͜͜i̸̧͙͍̰͒͒͆̂̌̌̿͌̍͂̀͝ ̸̢͎̜͖͍̜̥̥̺̦̗̼̟͉̌͂̔̚͘͝p̵̬̤͕̽̏̍́̈́͝͝i̴̺͇̜̿̏̂̈́͊̊́͌̓y̵̡̨͕̤͉̻̲̣̼̪̠̜͈̰̦͛i̵̦̠͎͊͋̉͜ķ̶̢̜͓͓̝͕͓͈͎̌̈́̂̉͛ḯ̶̖͇͈̤͓̖̤̮̩̥͓͙̿̈́̌̇̂̂̈̅͊͗͛̕͝͠ͅ ̸̞̻͑̈̒̉̏̀̊̈́͌I̵̛͇͉̮̯͚̜̩͚̥͓͎̊p̵̧̡̖̪̗̺͎̫͔̥̳̩͚͍̗̿̈́͆p̸̢̢͉͙̻̳̬̪̟̩͙̩͔̿̈́̄̆͂̾̆̃͘̕ȩ̴̡̨̛̬̥̞̙̖̣̒̍̀̌i̵̜̋̋̊̈́͋̄̿ ̶͔̀͐͂͆k̶͙̂̔̂̽̉͗̾͊̃͋̀̂̄̚ī̶̛̩̪͖̹̮̟͙̩͈͎̱̊̎̈́̇̎̀͜͜͠ͅÿ̴̳̤͇͍͔̼̗̦̻̋͗̀ṷ̴͂̈́͊͌͗͛̉̓̇̌̕͝i̵̢͙̺̫͍̳̤͇̝̋͗̾̄ ̸̡̰̘͔͓̻̥̜̻͕͉̬̮̙̀̄̈͗̊̀͑̌̊̀́̂̂͘y̶̨̳̩͖̙͔̘̖̎̓̑́̔̒́̏͊͌͑͝u̵̢̧̡̢͚͈͖̘̝̹͍͊̀́̐̀̾͐͗p̵̜͔̤͈̻̾̏̒̄̓̔̅͊̈̚͘͝͠ ̷̤̮͎̫̲͈̻͓̰͉̩͗̍͌͒̌͋̅̆̉̋͒̎̽͂̽p̴̳͈͇̖͇̯͙̩̦̈̈͋̈́́̆͝͝î̷̳̲̤̰̮͑͑̂́̄̅̈ÿ̸̠̰̯̳͎̫̜͖́̈́̽̈̀ͅu̸̯̙̣͙̹̦͌̏͐́̏̚͜͠k̶̡̛̼̲̫̖̪͈̪̼̫̰̫̮̙͙͛͛̎̎̚i̴͓͚͕̘͓̠̼̘̦̠̓̃̍͋̐͘͘ͅ ̷̧̖̹͖͍̜̭͎̼̯͖͇̗̊ķ̷̼̙̞̺̙͖̮̬̺̱̱͆̈́̓̃̓̽̉͠ĩ̶̛͚̇̏̉́͐̔̿̉ ̸̛͍̭̦̠̅̃̽̒͌͝n̵̢̢̢̠̯̙̝͗̃̈́̈́̓̀̏͘͜͝ĩ̴̬͕̥̘̙̟͓͉́k̷̢̛͐̔̔̽̂͌ị̸̘̜̖̻͔̳̪̀̅̀̋͂̐̾̚̚͘͝p̴̮̠͌̃̈́̀̃o̴̩͍͓̥̫̯͉̲̬̻̒̓̐͛̒͊̕ ̴̧̦̰͋͆̒̃̾̆͆̎̈́̐́͜͠͝p̶̭̏̈̉o̵̧̱͚͔̤̺̝̭̩̗͙̒͌̎͆̑͋͂̐̔̽̕͠ÿ̷̡̛̖͎̯̤̖͎̠́͆̐̂̈́̅́͘͝͝u̵̬̲͎̼͕̾̆̌͛̋̊̐͝͠ ̶͕̥͓͔̥̬̐̓̽̽͐̾͆̌́͛̕͝͠i̴̢̳̫̞͜͝k̶̢̙͖͇͖͈͉͈͔͚̽̿̌̎̀p̶̣̘̈́̎̐̈̾̾̽̚̚ơ̷̧̢̧͚͈̺̥̺̣̤̜̅̉̀̈͝ ̴̧̘̠̣̬͔̝̱͚͙͎͔̽͛̄̄̔̚k̶̡̡̖̹̥͕͔͍̦̠͎̥͔͎̈́̈̒̒͗̉͛͌̔̆͒͌̈́͝͠i̶̳̺͇̼̲̬̠̎́̽y̶̲̹͔̦͑͗͊̊̒̈́̇͆͒̏̐̆͘i̵̢̛̗͈̿n̵̤̔̈̍̃͜k̶̨̯͚͉̻̬̯̗̙̫̯̞̬̳̂̽̅̕u̴͖̻̝̫̭̎̔̄́̂̾͌͋̆̎̐̔͜͝͠i̶̡̛͎̯̪̹̩͍̘̥̳̦͕̻̇̊̂̑̄͑̒̾̇͑͠͝.̵͈̬̎̏͒̑̈́͂̓̌̓̑́̕͘͝͝
“Ah.”
By the time Carem looked up, Calvin was already flying toward him, exploding into a cloud of green smoke.
***Calvin***
Trade, I kinda wish I knew what your name was. If I had just pushed forward with the plan to kill the bastard and murdered…everyone who stood in my way, you’d be…just as dead. Well, at least you wouldn’t be Carem. There’s a fate worse than death.
Sometimes there’s no good options.
Yeah, I got it, let’s kill this bastard here and now, avoid any further complications.
Agreed.
Calvin felt Carem send a piercing dart of Bent toward him, intangible and seeking his brain.
Crap. Calvin sent out a thin stream of Bent to pick apart the dart, intercepting it with his whorls when it came closer, but even after he took most of the punch out of it, the spell had a staggering amount of force behind it, revealing a level of raw Mind that Calvin wasn’t comfortable with a crazy psycho having.
Your Stability is not strong enough to shrug off the effects. Your Will has begun digesting the foreign Bent, ETA 3 seconds.
Shit! He got me! Three seconds was a long time in a fight to the death. Plenty of time to lower someone’s guard and hit them with a killing blow. A burst of adrenaline went through Calvin’s heart as he prepared himself to summon some sort of last ditch effort to bypass whatever kind of control was placed over him, but…
In those three seconds, a kind of hissing, white noise, combined with a sensation of pressure assaulted Calvin’s senses, but nothing more came of it than that.
I can still move, he thought, flexing his fingers. He was still in control of his faculties as well, Probably. Thank you Language Barrier. Although this wasn’t the way I wanted to test it, I very much appreciate the assist.
Calvin didn’t want to wait around for Carem to try deciphering Ooze-Weaver speech.
He could tuck himself back into his shell of Heart of the Swarm now. No sense letting this guy have any sort of way to hurt him, now that he knew for sure what he was dealing with.
Calvin opened the tiny valves releasing compressed air onto his palms, resulting in an explosion of forward momentum.
Calvinian Summoning
Chimera
Atom Ant
Chimera
Atom Ant
Heart of the swarm
36/47 Bent remaining
Eight elite Nadia’s sprang into existence from the smoke trailing behind him before Calvin himself burst into four Battle Forms, using the Refraction Spinner organs to accelerate even faster towards his prey.
Carem’s eyes widened for a second before he breathed in sharply and exhaled…some kind of purple mist. It spread out unnaturally, widening out up and down to create a hemisphere in front of him.
Calvin came to a desperate halt in front of it, but one of his battle forms touched the creation with its foot, getting sucked whole into the strange purple barrier. Calvin had the disconcerting experience of getting absorbed before the summon poofed.
The purple rippled, preparing to do something.
Force the opponent to react: Karen’s training coming in handy even when he was a strange amalgam of people and monster parts.
Calvin backed off with one battle form while the other two lunged forward, aiming their fingers at a central point.
The space-warping powers of the refraction spinners deployed in a split second, blowing a hole through the shield, through which the reserved summon plunged through, aiming for Carem’s chiseled face.
Carem swung a hand up and caught Calvin’s punch, with a near-Baroke level of power. He inhaled sharply again.
Calvin opened his mouth, squeezed the glands under his tongue and spat a torrent of fire, consuming the newest purple exhalation even at the first purple shield burst outward, impaling his two spares.
Damnit. Still, one casting of Calvinian Summoning, and he was already at a three-to-two Bent consumption advantage. A fight Between Bent users often depended on who could make the other run out first, and Calvin liked his summons because they were efficient.
Calvin closed his eyes against the blooming heat and strained his neck, lunging forward with his forehead.
Crack!
His head shot through the swirling cloud of orange flame and purple mist, catching Carem’s face. The killer’s exhale was cut short, purple smoke shooting out of his nose as Calvin’s headbutt jammed his head down, jaw closed.
Nadia, if you wouldn’t mind. Calvin thought, pulling away from a defensive jab, the skin on his face peeling away. It wasn’t lethal damage, but it wasn’t good, either.
Absolutely.
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Her other seven bodies crowded around the man, deploying their space-warping abilities to slice him in half.Carem recovered from his fall in a fraction of a second, before dancing around the faint ripples in the air. Well, most of them.
A gout of blood jetted out from the body hopper’s shoulder as he was cut from shoulder to ribcage by the ripples of space.
In the space of a breath, Carem reached into his skull and yanked out a tooth.
No way.
The tooth and the wound glowed a brilliant white, and the wound on his shoulder was welded shut with a raw looking scar.
It didn’t stop there, though, as Carem reached up to the scar on his shoulder and peeled it off. The scar turned into a curved blade of shimmering space, seemingly growing roots into his hand
The fuck is that!?
The killer sped up, catching one of Nadia’s attacks with the blade. Nadia, who’d gotten used to never having any resistance to the special blades in her fingertips, blinked in surprise as they were intercepted, followed by a fist to the throat.
That Nadia was bisected by the sword before he lunged forward, skimming forward on the planet’s magnetic field, trying to get to Calvin before Nadia could encircle him.
Despite his relatively good showing, he was still hanging on by a thread.
Why give him a chance?
Hah. Not just yet, buddy, Calvin thought, backing away, keeping the distance between them the same, as attrition favored Calvin.
Case in point, Calvin thought as his body reached critical mass of Warp and Bad Penny triggered, splitting his Combat Form in two, one with a blistering face, the other perfectly healthy.
Calvin regained his distance, putting the healthy one in the rear to recover more bodies while using the damaged body as a buffer.
Carem seemed to realize he was being toyed with, as his expression went from focused to pissed, his lips downturned in a snarl halfway between hardened criminal and angry baby.
“Fuck!”
The body hopper immediately changed tactics, diving for the ground.
Can’t allow that, Calvin thought, dismissing his Battle Form and appearing in midair again.
And to box this asshole in, Calvin needed to cast a bit more.
Calvin tapped the thermite on his belt.
Shaping
35/47 Bent remaining.
Dupdomancy has reached level 23!
***Carem***
I’ll go through the ground, bastard can’t follow me through there – Ack!
There was the flickering sensation of Bent flowing past him, and the ground caught fire. Suddenly there was a molten pool of burning iron underneath him, and if Carem got any closer, he’d be losing a lot more than his eyebrows.
“Where ya going?” The brat asked with a raised brow in flawless Juntai.
Carem was looking for an escape route as the seven identical bitches – no, make that eight, one of them split again. DAMN – swooped in to surround him.
The situation made something snap inside him.
K̶͖͍̖͂̂ͣ͆̚i̟̘͙͉̽̊l͈̝̱̖̙͞l̐̏́̚͜ ͖̩͖̝̻̲̹ͩͮ͞hͨ̃͑ͤͣ̈́ͮỉ̢͔͓̩̤͗̎ͣm̘͓̯ͦ̍̂̅̐ͣͮ
He was no longer interested in surviving. The only priority he had was killing the smug bastard. Carem was far too angry to wonder if this was some kind of outside influence.
Chaos Lung
44/65 Bent remaining
He breathed in and mixed the Bent in his lungs. The air got heavier, straining his lungs as he breathed the Consuming Mist out, mentally pulling it close to himself and forming an armor out of it.
Die! Carem thought as he charged forward.
***Calvin***
You gave me too much range, Calvin thought.
Calvin created a complex summon combining the Crystal Lattice catalysts wrapped in a heavy tube of Abyssal steel, along with a constant supply of explosives and detonators.
With series of pops, chunks of Bent disrupting crystal the size of Calvin’s thumb began flying out of the tube fast enough to tear through sound itself.
Did…Did you just make a bullet hose?
Carem’s magical armor was torn off in a fraction of a second, followed by his face, skull, and the rest of his body.
Bits and piece of gory flesh rained down to the ground, where they sizzled on the rapidly cooling sheet of red-hot iron.
I like to think of it as a shrapnel hose, Calvin thought, dialing the Gradual split of the crystals and the explosives down to nothing, leaving himself with a simple tube of Abyssal Steel.
A rapidly heating tube of abyssal steel, given the complete lack of a cooling system.
“Ah, hot!” Calvin shouted, dropping the cylinder.
That was an oversight, Elliot said, sounding smug.
You’re just jealous you didn’t think of it first.
Bitch, I know what a gun is! You’re so basic it hurts.
Whatever, we’ve got to cover the rest of the city and get everything under –
Calvin started as he felt a gaze of pure, delighted rage, pressing against his skin from directly ahead. Calvin lifted his gaze from the tumbling shrapnel hose and spotted a tall figure floating in the air in front of him.
It – and calvin was fairly sure it was an it – was swathed in rags, covering its face and body, but he could make out bits of pebbled skin, heavy, black fingernails, and some kind of crest rising above the creature’s head. And its legs were reverse jointed.
Digitigrade, Elliot felt the need to correct him.
“Can I help you?” Calvin asked, setting his hands on his belt, pushing the stinging pain of his burnt fingers aside.
“Grethna. You don’t know me yet, but you will once I have the System unlock your memories. My name is Pasha Llortan, and after I have my revenge for Pelior, I’ll be bringing your soul back to the fleet, where we’ll burn the location of the King in Exile out of you.”
Calvin’s hair stood on end.
I don’t think this guy’s fucking around. As a matter of fact…Holy shit! That’s a Harbinger! Run! RUN LIKE HELL!
Macronomicon
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