Chapitre 112: Sacrifices III
The temple's last room was round, built to accommodate a large number of witches or their familiar as they fly in and out of the temple. As evident by the large skylight on the eastern portion of the metal ceiling. Two sets of stairs, each hugging the curves of the wall, ran up to a mezzanine which held the desks of the divinatory witches under Dagon's command.
Having seen Olivette seething with rage, Irwin was now running these stairs as he evaded spells, hexes, and the occasional hounding of monsters dedicated to bringing order upon the temple.
His flaming whip had a mind of its own as it slithered out of his arm and began to choke the newest strigoi that jumped down from the mezzanine. Its silver thorns embedded itself upon the monsters' skin and held her aloft as the flames burned her to ashes.
All the while, his legs pushed up the wooden stairs before rolling down just in time for a glimmering ebony claw to tear down the stone bannister next to him before dissipating like an apparition.
'What the fuck was that? Jesus, I need to learn new spells!'
Irwin shook his head of the meandering thoughts, sweeping his whip around before the monsters upstairs could get to him. Arming himself yet again, he pushed forwards blowing the head off a witch and using her body to block a werewolf's mounting attack.
The werewolf, however, was tenacious as it was hirsute. He merely threw the corpse off the balcony and rushed forward, maw bubbling with crimson drool. Irwin was quick to fish out his Angel's Blade, but the werewolf was already on him. They tumbled onto the ground with the werewolf's maw close enough for Irwin to smell its breath.
He quickly thrust his blade and gutted the monster like the animal it was, deliberately slashing its organ to prevent its regeneration from saving his life. He threw the monster off of him, armor dripping with the monster's entrails and blood.
He gazed around the room, catching sight of seven women huddled up in the corner and gearing for a fight. With an exhausted sigh, he stood up and patted himself of dust. Patting the blood dry would just ruin his armor.
"Are any of you ladies the High Priestess?" He asked, limping towards the nearby chair.
The stumble took a lot from him, especially when the werewolf's claws digged unto his outer thighs. He was lucky it was only one claw and that his sides were protected by his armor.
"I-I am." A fairly young woman raised her hands.
She had curly short hair, full red lips, and eyes that reminded him of Marilyn Monroe. He checked his status and…
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[Sebastian Archibald Richard Greythorne IV]
▪︎ Physical Health: -58%
▪︎ Stamina: +38%
▪︎ Magik Reserves: -42%
---
▪︎ Physical Effects: Injured
▪︎ Mental Effects: Glamour
…
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There it was, a glamour effect just like what Dagon had entranced Irwin with last time. Frankly, he didn't actively hate it, but it just slightly frustrated him that he's being deceived by old hags and monstrous demons.
'Hard enough to get a boner when negotiating with a fucking demon.'
"Would you be so kind as to disable the sigils that prevent an outsider from teleporting into the compound?" He asked politely as he sat down and silently activated his Trade Store.
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[ Trade Store ]
▪︎ Item Trade
▪︎ Store
▪︎ Trade Counter
▪︎ Store Credit: 418
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"But that would-My master would be upset with me if I do that." She replied, shaking her head vehemently.
Irwin shook his head. "C'mon, it's not like she's gonna last long. It's either eternal inexistence in the Empty or eternal punishment in Hell."
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▪︎ Armors & Mystical Items
▪︎ Weapons
▪︎ Spells & Rituals
▪︎ Flora & Fauna
▪︎ Potions
▪︎ Materials
▪︎ System Consumables
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[ System Consumables ]
▪︎ Offensive
▪︎ Defensive
▪︎ Utilitarian
▪︎ Support
▪︎ Special
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"How dare you desecrate the name of the Prince of Hell?" A witch next to the High Priestess roared, startling her companions as she began casting a spell.
Irwin was immediately hit by a wave of nausea, but a quick Spell Purge was all it took to remove the hex. Angry from the sudden attack, his eight-meter-long whip soared through the air and wrapped around the witch's neck.
The silver spikes tore her skin apart and let the flames burn and slowly engulf her whole head. The other witches merely stood there as Irwin pulled her towards him, like he was dragging dead cattle through his farm before stabbing her in the heart.
An explosion erupted from down below, echoes of agony unrelated to Irwin's conversation. As such, he did not care much, unless, of course, they went up and tried to deal with him.
"I assure you, intruder, Lord Dagon would not perish under any circumstances." She tried to reason. "No matter how hard you try."
Irwin smirked as he heard the last part. "It seems we're not truly enemies. You have a hatred for your master?"
She hurriedly gazed towards her subordinates, but only saw fear and hesitation. "I-I do not. My master is a great being and you should fear her retribution."
"I already do." He mumbled before groaning out of his seat.
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▪︎ Artificial External Soul Bomb▪︎
Price: 259 Credits
Type: Consumable; Explosives
Effect: A bomb that has the 10,000th fraction of the power of a Soul Bomb. Contains no actual soul.
Warning! Once Released, Please Leave The Area Immediately.
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He faced her once more, shoulders slumping down. "So… you're really not going to disable it? After I've asked you politely?"
As a response, she motioned for her subordinates to cast their spells. Irwin, however, had already responded to their attacks as he threw out a glittering crystal about the size of his two fingers towards the witches.
He quickly dispelled the flaming whip and jumped down the mezzanine, invigorating his magik and casting Energy Shield to defend himself.
A blinding light followed him as he soared through the air. His quickness, however, paled in comparison to the power of the explosion as his body was assaulted by the bright light, next by the blustering wind, and then the flames that launched him further than he could have done to himself.
He crashed into the walls above the door frame before his body fell to the ground, widening the spiderweb cracks from the Borrower's initial assault on Olivette. Multiple injury warnings from his system–long forgotten from his earlier days–appeared on his retina, but he didn't need it as all of his senses were signaling extreme damage to his brain.
He opened his stinging reddened eyes to utter destruction, smoke filling the room, his eyes, and his nose. Pebble-sized marble and steel had embedded itself on his body, save for his torso which were safely deflected by his armor.
He didn't need his Status subsystem to know that his health had gone down below 10%, not when his knees were bent at an impossible angle and he was missing a few fingers.
Although he knew that a fully-formed Soul Bomb could kill cosmic entities, he was sure that a knock-off bomb with less than 1/10,000 of its power would be more manageable.
"Ah… fuck… me." His laughter came out as deathly coughs as his lungs burned from the smoke inhalation and massive trauma it suffered when he broke the wall.
The sound of fluttering wind reached Irwin, even through his ringing and pounding ear. "I can't say that I'm not impressed by the utter destruction you have wrought upon this building."
Irwin's wheezing grew louder and huskier as he gazed upon the blinding visage of Balthazar and Malkanthor. The future rogue angel had a bottle of vintage wine, one that Irwin had secretly promised to the angel in exchange for doing him a favor.
"Should we just not heal him?" The angel asked his Garrison leader.
Malkanthor shook his head. "Lord Zachariah has something else planned for him."
Balthazar zipped out of existence and reappeared next to Irwin, palming his head as the hand produced a brilliant yet oddly comforting white light.
There was a great buzzing within Irwin's ears that traveled inwards to his brain. His flesh warped with glowing light, bones reorganizing with dull cracks, and his fingers began to grow as it bathed in Balthazar's healing light.
It would be the first time Irwin was healed by an angel, and also the first time he was rapidly healed without dire consequences, but it won't be the last. He would make sure of that.
He hurriedly checked his status, to see if anything new happened to him.
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[Sebastian Archibald Richard Greythorne IV]
▪︎ Physical Health: 100%
▪︎ Stamina: +80%
▪︎ Magik Reserves: +12%
---
▪︎ Physical Effects: Slight Enhancement
▪︎ Mental Effects:
…
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Sure enough, the angel not only thoroughly healed his physical form, he also relieved him of his exhaustion. Irwin was definitely going to have an angel heal him every time. He can never go back to potions again after this.
"All healed up." The angel said before looking at the smoke and rubble filled room. "I have to say, I just thought you'd be manually disabling the defenses."
"I thought the bomb would just kill the witches." Irwin replied, standing up with ease.
Malkanthor shrugged his shoulders, flapping his shadowy wings to blow the smoke away from the room. "How do you even know that our teleportation would fail inside of the compound?"
Irwin's smile faltered for a moment, gazing at the slaughtered corpses of the Borrower witches. "Because we tried magical teleporting once and we failed."
Irwin cracked his neck and knuckles, stretching whole body to realign his gravity. He didn't know if it actually worked, but Joaquim told him to do it and he would do it.
"Irwin! You son of a bitch!" Olivette rose from the ashes of the dead witches.
Her dress has been torn, singed, and destroyed beyond recognition. Irwin was thankful she had some kind of armor under her dress or he would have begun throwing up in the middle of the battlefield.
Hair frizzled up and coily, she sauntered closer with ill intent. "You used me as bait? You motherfucker!"
Irwin gave a shameful smile and scratched the back of his neck, "My bad, Olivette. Let me apologize for that."
For the first time since its inception, Irwin activated Unarmed Combat's sub-effect, which he named Overmode.
Time slowed to a crawl as he felt the air grow heavy. His usually light body grew heavier by the second. Still, he disregarded this new sensation and pushed his feet against the marble floor, widening the cracks on its glassy surface. His body rushed forward, appearing inches in front of Olivette.
"Oh, that's nice." Balthazar's voice echoed, although it sounded as if he was speaking from deep within a tunnel.
Olivette's face slowly morphed into an angered surprise and attempted to protect herself, but Irwin's hand flashed with a silver gleam as the Angel's Blade pierced the side of her neck and tore through bone, cartilage, and skin.
Time resumed to Irwin's eyes as he felt the burning heat rushing through his nerve and fiber. He grinned as he picked up Olivette's head, thankful for her assistance in figuring out his newest power.
He turned towards the angels, dropping the head. "Now, do you guys know how to open a vault?"
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone