Chapter 182: New faces
The ritual seal is a standard five-pointed pentagram with mystical symbols along the outline. It seems to be nothing complicated and it takes a couple minutes to create such a scheme, but now everything is complicated by the large size of the enemy and, accordingly, the large scale of the drawing, not to mention the fact that the creature is constantly regenerating and is unlikely to sit quietly and peacefully while I'm creating an art-object. Although napalm has noticeably reduced its regeneration, and Dick is vigilant and does not allow the head to regenerate, so there is still time.
But then the millipede has to be pushed into the center of the structure somehow. It's obviously not worth it now, because the monster is constantly rolling around on the ground, trying in vain to knock down the flames. Given the size of the carcass and its weight of over two tons, transportation problems are obviously expected, but I'll solve them in the process. It's better to concentrate on the blueprint now, especially since I have an assistant who knows a lot about magic.
"Frankie, I need help with the pentagram," he snapped his fingers, and the illusory outlines of the future magical construction appeared on the ground nearby. It requires quite a lot of energy for its work, so ordinary weaving will not work here. A material binding is needed to withstand the flow of mana. The likelihood of failure is also greatly reduced. Still, the creature reeks of Rot emanations, which, if concentrated in high concentrations, can damage delicate spell weaves.
"Got it," he quickly jumped to the blueprint, leaving behind drops of dark green thick liquid, replacing his blood, and began to cut the asphalt with his sword, repeating the contours of the illusion.
"What are you gonna fill it with? If it's salt, I have some consecrated salt. Not much, but it can be mixed with yours to make the pentagram more effective."
"Huh, I've got something better! - Several syringes of bright green magic gel emerge from his pocket.
"Wow, not bad," the dead man said respectfully, examining the syringe he'd handed over and sniffing its contents. - Not for sale? I'm ready to buy ten liters, because some infernal creatures can be difficult to put to rest with standard methods.
"We'll talk about it later. By the way," I touch the wall of the house, soaking it with my mana and casting a simple elemental weave at the same time. In a couple of seconds, I was holding a primitive crutch, its shape supported by several runes of reinforcement. I put a minimum of energy into them, but they should be enough for half an hour, unless, of course, my ally breaks it on purpose against someone's carcass, and because of the severed shin, he has to balance on one leg, constantly leaning on his sword. - Here you go.
"Hmm..." he hesitantly accepted the gift, looking at me with a challenging look as I used the blade of my cane to draw the basic lines.
"Is something wrong?"
"I'm not sure. Can't you create a pentagram the same way? I realize it's not the simplest construction, but maybe just piece by piece?"
"That's a good idea. Well, you go help the little guy, and I'll--
"I'm not the little guy, I'm Nightwing! - Once again the son of Bats was outraged, backing up his words with a couple of shots at the still fat carcass of the Hound of Rot. The flames were almost out by this point, but true sight showed that the enemy was still alive and certainly not going to die, despite the extensive damage.
"Fuck swimming! I don't care that you secretly snuck onto the batship and obviously knocked over Bats's cave before exiting, the latter is something I do from time to time. But the fact that you went into a city overrun by magical monsters is the height of idiocy. That's why you're the little guy. Frankie, be a friend, cover him, because I do not like that the creature is quiet, - at the end of the speech I turned to the living dead.
"No problem," he strode briskly back, swapping his sword for an antique pistol as he went. The recent encounter had made it clear that it was best not to go near a creature of Rot unless you wanted a couple of holes in your body.
Left alone I set about solving an interesting problem.
I hadn't really thought about the fact that you could create magical blueprints by simply altering nearby surfaces with magic. John and Zee didn't mention it either, apparently thinking I knew it, or it was too soon. The latter, of course, refers to the sexy illusionist whose classes don't come as often as I'd like. And yet she herself probably uses this method. Before the parade of planets, the territory of the Shadow Peak was almost completely marked with large runes made of salt, but underneath them there were small grooves, which the sorceress had hardly dug by hand.
It's clear that under the Pinkerton mansion, as well as in any other place with a high concentration of alien energies, such a maneuver won't work. At least not until I learned to project my inner world outward or my mana became dense enough to resist the aggressive environment, but there were no particular obstacles to using magic now.
In short, my task is to imbue the asphalt with energy, cast a weave to control the earth, and mentally visualize the drawing. If there were problems with imagination and concentration, I would have to create the pentagram step by step, but thanks to the System and the former owner of the body, whose high intelligence allowed me to develop an excellent memory.
The memories of the Netherworld quickly put me in a good mood, and then it was a matter of technique. The ground under my feet slightly sagged, outlining a perfect circle to get rid of small cracks and irregularities, which should reduce mana loss, and then the contours of the pentagram with all the necessary symbols appeared inside the figure. It would be wonderful if filling the mystic symbols with gel was as easy, but not only does it contain Abby's concentrated mana, which would be foolish to replace with my own, for the loss would be enormous, but I also don't have the right weave in my arsenal. It's one thing just to mash the ground in the right places, and quite another to filigree control of the thick liquid, so that it clearly fills all the necessary grooves. In fact, I had to do it by hand while the little one and Frankie fought the millipede. I, by the way, helped them a little in the process.
The monster had a very high vulnerability to fire, so it had to spend all its energy on regeneration without even thinking about attacking. Napalm to napalm, but grenades are not infinite, so I decided to remember that magic does not necessarily have to be able to destroy dozens of enemies, create hundreds of fireballs or change the landscape and turn back rivers in one cast. Magic is an art. Wizards control reality through imagination and will, so there's no point in them going rogue.
Combustion is a physicochemical process of transformation of initial substances into combustion products in the course of exothermic reactions, accompanied by intense heat release, and it occurs due to the combination of two main components: fuel and oxygen. The fuel is the monster's flesh, but there were problems with oxygen. The burning carcass emitted too much carbon dioxide, causing the fire to almost go out. Fortunately, I was able to provide fresh air, forcing the enemy to ignite with renewed vigor. I had no trouble imagining that it was oxygen that was involved, leaving the nuances to magic, and the flames were even brighter and hotter than they had been, approaching two thousand degrees, judging by the color.
"What are you guys doing here?"
I was distracted from the fun of filling the grooves with magic gel by Green Lantern's voice overhead. My partners were shooting at the monster and killing the curious creatures that came to the noise. The latter became more and more every minute, and if at first they appeared at most one by one, and even then, mostly they were attracted by the smoke weak flying monsters, but ten seconds ago came at once five pieces of mutants, which, judging by the remnants of clothing, once were people. Frankie quickly chopped them up into a vinaigrette, showing very good technique despite the crutch, but the trend wasn't encouraging.
"We decided to have a barbecue," I said after a short pause.
The lantern looked around the alley with the signs of battle, the bodies of small skinless creatures, the bodies of a large mutant engulfed in flames, and then stopped at a huge pentagram that had begun to accumulate mana, making its contours glow with a soft white light.
"I don't know why you're surprised. It's a magical monster, you can see that ordinary fire can't take it."
"To me, he's already dead and the whole thing looks like a mockery of a corpse."
"Eh, if only..."
~Bah~
My reply was interrupted by a loud gunshot. Frankie once again destroyed the head that had begun to form. His gun, like his sword, had magical properties, allowing it to deal increased damage to infernal creatures, and each bullet exploded like a miniature grenade on impact, destroying a decent chunk of infected flesh. I'd have to look into enchanting to upgrade my revolver.
"Anyway, we need to get this thing into the pentagram or it won't fry properly and the barbecue will be a waste."
Hal looked again at the huge eight-meter carcass. The fire was almost gone by this time, for the spell I had cast had successfully exhausted its mana, and I had not cast any new spells while I was doing the ritual drawing. So now I could see the charred pieces of flesh slowly regaining their original appearance, and in some places strong chitinous plates sprouting on the body. There's no worse enemy to adapt to damage and constantly regenerate. The size also brings certain difficulties and does not allow you to quickly chop the millipede into many small pieces, exceeding the threshold of regeneration, which must surely be present. So you have to do the same, instead of firing an RPG or shoving a few defensive grenades into the body.
"Why don't we screw him? I'm here to get you to headquarters, not to work as a baggage handler."
"It's a tempting offer, but if you don't want to help us, you can take care of the survivors. They're hiding with Simon and Gaius over that way," I waved behind me.
"I had already moved them before I came back for you. I advise you to make a decision quickly, because when I flew here, I saw a large cluster of monsters in the south that were clearly heading in your direction."
"No, we have to finish what we started," Frankie interjected. - This isn't just another mindless monster, of which Arkane can create thousands, given the right material. It's a Hound of Rot, and killing it will weaken the enemy army considerably.
"Well, you heard him," I looked expectantly at the superhero.
"Eh, I didn't want to touch that thing, even with the help of energy constructs... - my interlocutor muttered under his breath, and then he created a huge claw from green energy and began to push the carcass into the pentagram.
As if the monster felt that the joke was over, and began to actively resist. Numerous sharp legs flickered in the air, and the body bent strongly, vainly trying to destroy the materialized will, but, clenching his teeth from tension, Hal still carried the monster to the destination point, and there it was a matter of technique. The working seal began to burn out the alien energy, bringing unbearable suffering to the millipede, from which it began to spin more than before, but the green pads that fell from above securely chained it to the ground.
To be honest, I don't even know how we would have been able to deal with the enemy without Lantern's help, because the pentagram is designed to destroy demons or possessed people, whereas we were up against a more material entity, and in a body specially created for it, not just a random shell. Plus, she was physically very strong in her own right, so it's not like the same evil exorcism barrier would have been able to disarm her. Of course, I could roll the carcass to the right place with ground control, but holding a large and strong monster in place while reading a spell was not my level yet. Fortunately, Jordan did a great job with the first one, so the exorcism ritual went smoothly, and soon the monster was finally quiet. I made a few deep wounds and placed motion-responsive mines in them to surprise anyone who decided to eat the derelict body, and also made sure that the monster had stopped regenerating.
Now there was nothing to prevent our company from returning to the base... Except for a bunch of flying mutants heading in our direction. The Lantern came to the rescue again, creating something like a flying bunker with narrow loopholes through which Dick and I could fire. But I tried to use more spells to improve my mana control, and only rarely used my revolver, while the little fellow happily used up the ammunition he had been given. Of course, I had to use regular bullets, because I couldn't get enough burst bullets for all the enemies, especially since the winged creatures were much weaker than their earthly counterparts.
While our group was scrambling around the city in search of Red's likely receptacle, the rest of us were preparing for an attack on the avatar's fortress, which was one of Apokolips' towers, located in the northeastern part of the city. Given the local architecture, mostly consisting of low houses, or large shopping centers and various hotels for tourists, the blacksmith had chosen a very good place, because there were only two ways to get inside the tower: through the main gate or through the upper platform, where the portal gate used to be.
For us it was literally an invitation to visit in a small group, sneaking in by air while the main part of the army is attacking head-on, for the enemy's aviation is at most suitable as cannon fodder. However, it's unlikely that Arkane is an idiot and won't protect one of the entrances, but this option looks more promising than the one where we have to fight our way through hordes of creatures.
In fact, when we returned, everything was ready for the assault. Harley and Bats had even managed to develop a poison that would effectively destroy the creatures of the Rot. Although it also had a negative effect on humans, so it couldn't be sprayed over the infected area, but it could be used to fill batinjectors and batdrottes for long-range work. According to Dr. Fate's predictions, the poison can weaken even Arcane, since its nature is similar to that of the Rot, so Abby won't have to take much risk in battle.
Another important detail that seriously increased our chances of winning was the addition of another superhero to the group. And no, I'm not talking about Beastboy, who, as it turns out, has little control over his powers and his transformation into a gorilla was just an adrenaline rush; and I'm not talking about Nightwing. When we returned, Richard had received a very heavy piercing look from his guardian and now sits quietly in the corner, trying not to glare. It's about the Eagle.
The heroine lived on the African continent, so it's not surprising that she was interested in an outbreak of an unknown virus and a huge golden dome. I don't remember if she was part of the canonical Justice League, but according to Bats' information, the girl is only slightly inferior to Aquaman. It's unknown whether it's due to physiology, because, judging by the big wings growing from her back, she's not quite human, or whether it's due to the artifact armor, consisting of a golden breastplate, red high boots, black wristbands and an unusual helmet, causing associations with the head of an eared owl, and the spiked mace should not be forgotten, because from it I also felt some charms.
The Eagle herself, if you ignore the wings, had a pleasant appearance. Sensual plump lips, lined with scarlet lipstick, green eyes, gorgeous red hair and a very good athletic figure, which was perfectly emphasized by a tight bib. All this beauty was perfectly complemented by a light tan, which added to her resemblance to an Amazon.
In short, with such an ally, our Save the World team was simply destined for success, so Shepard ordered the army to advance.
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone