The Bonesborough Library was a charnel house. Shelves lay splintered, their precious cargo scattered like fallen leaves. Witches and demons, their lives brutally extinguished, sprawled amidst the wreckage, a testament to the invaders' merciless hand.
Trapped within an ethereally crimson sigil, the ancient blue bird, Malphas, strained against chains of pure, shimmering red. Even bound, his defiance burned bright, a desperate struggle against the inevitable.
"I ask you one last time, Malphas," a guttural voice boomed, laced with menacing politeness. "In honor of the great Lord you once served, tell me: where is the Throne of Ion?"
The speaker was a towering figure clad in blackened armor. Seven grotesque fingers adorned each gauntlet, and four crimson, pupil-less eyes glared from within his helm. In his grasp, the sword 'Clarent' pulsed with the heat of a dying star – once a symbol of peace, now twisted into a weapon of cruel betrayal by Teran, the malevolent opposite to Mither.
Malphas spat a gob of blood at the armored giant. "You will glean nothing from me, Mordred the Red-Stepped," he rasped, his voice raw with defiance.
Mordred, the Morbid. The Red-Stepped. The Eldritch King. Mordred the Demon Knight – a title earned through his unholy mastery of Demonology, binding entities not of the Boiling Isles, but of the Bad Place, to his will.
Beneath Malphas, a red sigil flared. Intricate, abstract symbols wove a disturbing pattern of symmetry and chaotic design – his own sigil, now turned against him.
Mordred did not react to the insult, only a dry, humorless chuckle escaped his helm. "How far you have fallen, Malphas Goetia. Once, you commanded forty hellish legions. Now… look at you. A decrepit librarian in a forgotten realm of dead gods, surrounded by corpse-worshipers clinging to the husks of their dead deity like maggots in a wound."
With a languid wave of his hand, the ethereal chains blazed white-hot against Malphas's form, searing into his flesh. A choked gasp escaped the bird's beak, but he refused to yield a satisfying cry to his tormentor. He had clawed his way to the higher echelons of Hell's Hierarchy; enduring pain was a skill he had long since mastered.
"No matter," Mordred continued, his voice like a grinding stone. "You may yet serve a purpose." His gauntleted hand clenched into a fist. The ethereal chains tightened, burning deeper, invading Malphas's very essence. This time, a wrenching croak of agony tore from the bird's throat as he felt his being unraveled.
Inside Hexside, chaos reigned. Witches and demons clashed against the Sarkic invaders and their grotesque abominations. Spells collided with flesh, tearing it apart or melding it into obscene new forms. The school, once a beacon of learning, was now a wrecked and bloodied battleground. Some Goreblights, disturbingly, wielded human weaponry – guns and rifles spitting lead alongside bursts of corrupted magic.
Emira, a blossoming purple bruise marring her cheek, and Edric, his nose visibly broken and swollen, fought back-to-back, trading spells against the relentless onslaught.
"I thought Goreblights were supposed to be myths!" Edric grunted, slamming a fire spell into a Goreblight as it fell. The air reeked of burnt flesh and decay.
"Ugh! Why did it have to be the face?!" Emira whined, catching sight of her injury in the reflection of a shattered orb.
"Your face!? My nose is broken!" Edric retorted, kicking aside a writhing mass of flesh and bone.
"Hey, it's not a competition!" she snapped. She shoved him aside just as a fleshy stinger, dripping with viscous fluids, lashed out from a nearby Goreblight. Emira retaliated with a blast of pure arcane energy, obliterating the offending creature. With the fall of the Coven system, the Blight Twins had embraced a wider range of magic, discovering that Illusion was just the beginning.
Suddenly, the ground cracked as thick, thorny vines slammed down, sending the twins reeling. The vegetation lunged, only to freeze midair as Willow's eyes flared with emerald power. Hunter teleported in a burst of golden light, his staff a blur as he manipulated the water vapor in the air, shaping it into razor-sharp blades that sliced through the vines. His palisman, a loyal guardian, chirped in support.
Severed tendrils writhed on the ground, attempting to regenerate, only to be crushed beneath telekinetically hurled boulders, summoned by Principal Bump.
"Terra! Is that you? What is the meaning of this?!" Bump snarled, assuming the sophisticated plant magic originated from Terra Snapdragon, the former head of the Plant Coven.
But as the vines receded, they revealed not Terra, but something infinitely more disturbing.
A human woman of Middle Eastern descent stood before them, her hair raven black against her dusky skin. But from the waist down, her humanity ceased. Her lower body was a seething mass of tumorous, blackened tentacles, like the arms of a monstrous octopus, both prehensile and terrifyingly dextrous – a vision ripped straight from the legends of Scylla.
She moved through the ranks of infected witches and demons, each writhing in agony, grotesque growths blooming on their bodies. Even from afar, the Blight Twins, Hunter, and Willow could smell the foul, sickly-sweet odor of decay and corruption that clung to her like a shroud.
The Scourge of Iron. The Mother Who Demands One Toes. She had arrived.
"That's...not Terra," Willow whispered, stating the obvious, a wave of trepidation washing over her.
"Who are you?" Bump demanded, his glare unwavering despite the fear gnawing at his insides.
The stranger's voice was a harsh, chilling rasp. "I am Karcist Halyna Ieva. And there is something here that belongs to us."
"Ever heard of asking nicely?" Edric quipped, his usual sarcasm barely masking his unease. Halyna ignored him.
"How did you break through the protection wards?" Bump pressed, his mind racing. Hexside boasted some of the most formidable magical defenses in the Demon Realm, and yet these invaders had bypassed them with unnerving ease.
"Can't take credit for that," she shrugged, her tentacles shifting restlessly. Then, the vines she controlled hardened into wood, razor-sharp spikes erupting from their surfaces. "Frankly, I'm insulted that you would compare me to that hack," she spat, implying a past encounter with Terra. "Your natural affinity for magic in these lands and your bond with your palismen may offer you some protection against my... gifts, but I assure you, I will break those defenses eventually. And direct contact... Well, I doubt they will save you from that. That hag you compared me to? She found that out the hard way."
A chilling smile twisted her lips as the spiky, wooden vines lunged forward, forcing them to scatter.
Halyna moved with unnatural speed, a blur of motion, and seized Bump by the throat. "Give us the Throne of Ion, corpse-worshipper!" she hissed, unleashing a foul, contagious breath directly into his face – a direct attempt at infection. Yet, to her evident puzzlement, Bump remained unaffected.
A thin smile played on Bump's lips. "Nice try, woman."
Frewin, Bump's palisman, was not merely an accessory. Like all palismen, he shared a deep bond with his owner, offering a degree of magical protection against Halyna's corrupting influence. But in Bump's case, the connection was even more profound. Frewin was his hat, and they had developed a symbiotic relationship over the years. The palisman's magic wove through Bump's very being, creating a resilient barrier that shielded him from the worst of infections.
Bump hurled more debris at Halyna telekinetically, but her tendrils, sharpened to razor-edges, sliced through the objects with contemptuous ease. This provided a crucial distraction, allowing a handful of witches and demons to unleash a volley of energy blasts at her. She released Bump, who quickly scrambled to safety, avoiding the crossfire.
Willow, summoning all her fury, sent forth a wave of green vines, lashing out at the smoke-filled space where Halyna had stood. Hunter followed suit, unleashing bolts of pure energy.
To their utter shock, the vines halted mid-air, as if striking an invisible barrier. When the smoke cleared, Halyna stood unscathed. She had not even bothered to defend herself. Faint burn marks marred her skin, but they vanished almost as quickly as they appeared.
"You call this plant magic? Even a lowly Daevite mage could conjure far more insidious flora," the Karcist taunted. Her wooden vines lashed out, striking the green ones, and whatever vile substance they injected caused the vibrant color to leach away, leaving behind withered, lifeless husks. The wooden vines, meanwhile, swelled to monstrous proportions. Bump attempted to intervene, but several Sarkics swarmed him, forcing him to fight defensively. Edric and Emira, too, found themselves beset by grotesque Fleshbeasts.
The now colossal wooden vines crashed down upon the remaining witches and demons who had dared to attack Halyna, crushing the structure above them. Some were simply flattened, their lives extinguished in an instant. Others fared worse, impaled upon the sharpened spikes, still alive as their bodies began to wither and shrivel, blood and vital fluids sucked dry, leaving behind mummified husks.
"What in the—!" Willow gasped, her hand flying to her mouth in horror.
"What kind of foul magic is this?" Bump hissed, struggling to keep a ravenous Sarkic from tearing his throat out.
Hunter, fueled by adrenaline and desperation, teleported directly in front of Halyna and unleashed a continuous torrent of energy at her face, a beam so intense it blasted through her, creating a gaping hole in the wall behind her. Yet, incredibly, she stood there, unyielding. Half of her face was burned away, revealing raw, skinless flesh, a vacant, eyeless socket, and a glimpse of her skull. Still, she did not flinch. The damaged flesh began to writhe and regenerate.
"Again," she said simply, her voice eerily calm.
Hunter, his mind reeling, unleashed another blast, tearing more holes through her body. Each shot should have been fatal, yet she remained standing, alive.
"AGAIN!" she roared this time, her voice laced with dark amusement.
Hunter, desperate, summoned water from a destroyed, dripping dispenser, shaping it into razor-sharp discs that sliced through Halyna's limbs, severing tendrils and cleaving through her skull.
Yet she lived. Limbs regrew, the skull knit itself back together, and she regarded him with cold disinterest. By this point, Willow would have joined the fight, but she, like Hunter, was paralyzed by disbelief and horror.
"Disappointing," Halyna uttered matter-of-factly. One of her tendrils snaked out, grabbing Hunter by the throat, lifting him off the ground. She regarded him with a chilling curiosity as he choked and struggled against her grip.
"Let me—! Ack!" Hunter gasped, barely able to form the words.
Halyna's eyes widened slightly. "Hmm, interesting."
That was when Willow snapped. "HEY! Stop getting handsy with my boyfriend, octi-hag!" She tried to summon more vines, but Halyna casually sidestepped the attack and flung Hunter at Willow.
Reacting instinctively, Willow tried to catch him, only to be caught completely off guard. Hunter, his eyes wide and vacant, began to attack her with unnatural, jerky movements, as if his body was being controlled by unseen strings.
"Hunter!? What are you doing?" Willow cried, her eyes wide with terror.
"I-is n-not m-me!" he choked out, his voice strained and unnatural as he fought against the puppeteering force.
"I was wondering if a real-life Pinocchio, being made of plant matter and all, could be controlled by Daevite magic," the Karcist said drily, a hint of amusement in her voice. "Seems I was right." Upon touching Hunter and his palisman, she had used his own plant manipulation techniques to hijack his body, turning him into a grotesque puppet.
A splattering of purple abomination fluid splashed near her. Halyna dodged away, wiping the substance from her shoulder. When she looked back, she saw two witches and a cadre of Abomatons battling the Sarkics and their creations.
One of the figures was dressed in a regal and elegant fashion, with something furry perched on his shoulder. The other looked as if he had just emerged from a workshop, his clothes smudged with grime and goggles perched on his forehead.
Halyna casually wiped away the purple goo from her shoulder and scoffed. "Really? Mud? Have the Lost Tribe regressed so badly that they use mud to mimic carnomancy?"
Darius arched an eyebrow, a flicker of annoyance crossing his usually impassive face, yet his voice remained cool and composed. "Mud, you say? I find the sheer potential of it exquisitely complex. It requires a level of artistry and mastery that you and your fiends' crude demonstrations clearly lack." Despite his elegant phrasing, the momentary wrinkle of his nose betrayed his revulsion towards the Sarkics and Halyna's organic manipulations.
The Karcist remained unimpressed by Alador and Darius, snorting derisively. "You don't know what a true abomination is, neither of you," she declared. Sickly green runes flared to life on her arm. "And frankly, I have better things to do than deal with mere golemancy." Suddenly, every person Halyna had ever killed rose from the dead, their voices guttural and distorted, their forms twisted and mutated into something utterly horrific.
They were no longer who they once were, for their true selves were long gone. Now, they were Halkosts – necromantic fleshbeasts animated by Halyna's power, mockeries of their former lives.
"Kill the corpse-worshippers, my Halkost," she commanded. With a unified, guttural roar, they surged forward, attacking Darius, Eberwolf, and Alador, while Halyna moved away, seemingly disinterested in the unfolding carnage.
Darius circled, his body shifting and reforming, transforming into his Abomination form – a towering mass of swirling purple goo, capable of incredible strength and adaptation. He launched himself at the Halkosts, one of his hands hardening into a massive, spiked hammer, pulverizing the undead abominations.
Alador's pack of Abomatons responded instantly, mechanical arms sprouting from their bodies, powered by abomination goo rather than conventional joints. They extended and retracted with piston-like precision, slamming into the necrotic monsters with bone-crushing force. Eberwolf, snarling, ripped and tore with tooth and claw, his ferocity a match for the Halkosts' unnatural strength.
"Hunter, please! Fight it! I know you're in there!" Willow pleaded as she was locked with the controlled Hunter.
Hunter's eyes dart around frantically, trying to focus on Willow. He strains against the invisible force controlling him, but his body remains unresponsive. He tried to scream, but only a muffled whimper escaped. He lunges, moving with a speed that's not his own.
Willow was beginning to stain, not just physically but also emotionally reminding her too much when Belos hijacked Hunter's body except this was somehow even worse for she could see from his eyes that he was conscious "I don't want to hurt you!"
Willow summons a shield of thick vines, barely blocking Hunter's first blow. The force of it splinters the wood. She retaliates with a whip of thorny rose branches, aiming to disarm, but Hunter's body anticipates her every move, his movements too precise, too calculated to be his own. Inside, Hunter is screaming, fighting, but he's trapped, a prisoner in his own flesh-like plant. It's like watching a puppet master at work, but the strings were invisible, and the puppet is someone she cares about.
"Do…s-s-top…" Hunter hoarsed.
Willow dodges another blow, narrowly avoiding a strike to the head. She notices with horror how black vines began to grow on him only to then dig deeper into Hunter's skin so as his own palisman, his breathing becoming shallow and ragged. She was losing him.
"No! I won't let you do this to him again!" She summoned a wave of fast-growing flowers, their pollen thick and heavy, hoping to disorient Hunter's body. But the black vines react instantly, weaving a protective barrier around him, deflecting the pollen. Hunter's eyes plead with her to stop, but his body continues to fight, a horrifying contradiction.
Hunter advances, his staff a blur of motion. Willow is forced to retreat, her back against the wall. She can see the raw terror in Hunter's eyes, a desperate plea trapped behind the vacant glaze. It breaks her heart.
"I'm sorry, Hunter. I'm so sorry." Willow teared.
She closes her eyes for a moment, steeling herself. When she opens them, her face is set with grim determination. She knows what she has to do, even if it goes against everything she believes in and to do it to someone dear to her.
Willow plunges her hands into the earth, drawing upon the immense power of the plants around her. Vines erupt from the ground, thicker and stronger than before, but these vines are different. They glow with a soft, emerald light, the same light as her magic.
" ...W-willow- please!" He snapped momentarily into a shout, it was a plea not for not doing it but to do it for he would rather die than being controlled ever again.
Focusing all her will on the vines. She can hear Hunter's mental screams, a cacophony of fear and pain, but she steeled herself. The vines lash out, not to harm, but to restrain. They wrap around Hunter's limbs, tightening, cutting off the flow of the plant mage's influence. Hunter struggles with every fiber of his being, his eyes widening in panic, tears streaming down his face, but it's too late. He's trapped, paralyzed, forced to watch as his own body is used against his will.
With a final surge of power, Willow forces her own plant magic into Hunter's system by going inside his ears, overwhelming the foreign influence. It's a violation, a forced intrusion, just like Belos and the vile Goreblight, and it feels wrong on every level. She can feel Hunter's mind recoiling from the invasion.
Hunter's body goes limp, the glazed look fading slightly from his eyes, replaced with a flicker of his own consciousness, now filled with a mix of relief and horror. He slumps to the ground, unconscious. The vines recede while the black vines wither away and die.
Willow stumbles back, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She stares at Hunter's unconscious form, her hands trembling. The victory feels hollow, tainted by the knowledge of what she had to do. The image of Hunter's terrified eyes, his silent screams, are burned into her mind.
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry…." She sobbed and kneeled beside him, her face etched with guilt and remorse, uncaring about the surrounding chaos. The candlelight that were used to lit up this section of Hexside flickers, casting long, dancing shadows that seem to mock her. She knows she did what she had to do to protect him, but the cost was high.
Emira and Edric pushed through the chaos, a desperate plan weighing heavily on their minds. "GO! GO NOW!" Bump roared, barely holding off a wave of Goreblights with blasts of raw magic.
As the twins navigated the carnage, they reached their intended destination, only to halt in stunned horror. The scene before them was a grotesque tableau ripped from their darkest nightmares.
Dead witches and demons lay strewn across the floor, while living, breathing Goreblights feasted upon them. They gurgled on organs, tore into flesh with relish, and slurped blood with sickening gusto. It was as if the boogeyman stories of Goreblights feasting on naughty children had come to life, but far more graphic and terrifying than any bedtime tale could convey.
"WHAT THE HOLY LORDY WOOHOO!?" Emira shrieked, her voice cracking with horror.
"WHAT BY TITAN'S GIANT TOES AM I SEEING!?" Edric echoed, his face paling.
The Goreblights turned, their mouths and hands slick with gore and blood. They grinned ghastly smiles, revealing rows of razor-sharp teeth, claws, tendrils, and even grotesque animalistic features.
Growl
A guttural growl rumbled through the chamber. The Goreblights lunged, and the twins, still reeling from the horrific spectacle, scrambled to cast a spell. Before they could, however, bursts of purple matter erupted from behind them, eviscerating or crushing the oncoming Goreblights. Abomatons surged forward, firing more blasts or, in the case of those that reached melee range, engaging in brutal combat, purple axes clashing against claws, tendrils, stingers, and a myriad of other monstrous appendages.
The Blight twins retreated behind a nearby wall, gasping for breath.
"Oh…Sweet Titan…they…were eating them!" Edric panted, his voice trembling.
"I'm gonna be sick!" Emira clapped a hand over her mouth, her face turning green.
"You get sick, I get sick! That's twin telepathy for you!" Edric retorted weakly.
Both Blight twins immediately turned a ghastly shade of green and were on the verge of losing their lunch. Emira rushed toward a flower pot, retching violently, while Edric leaned over a trash can, emptying his stomach.
In the other side, Darius and Alador fought back in back against the invaders former in his Abomination form and armed with two sharp swords while the latter with his many purple tendrils coming from the pack device on his back held of two of them together merged to make a shield against the coming bullets while one shot abomination bullets at the shooters and the other two arms with sharp edge at the end continuously stabbed a few coming Smilies.
After killing those and the shooters, Alador took off his google, one of the lenses being broken and dropped it while blood came from his nose and mouth and shouted with adrenaline coursing through him "I find this melee fighting really quite detestable!"
"I'm guessing you prefer a sterile and clean lab!" Darius sarcastically commented as he battled a Behemoth, jumped from its shoulder and a fist that tried to crush him and slash on it as it bellowed.
"You have to admit, it's much more civilized!" all of Alador's 6 extra limbs then turned into sharp spears plunged at the behemoth to help him and then 3 of them combined into a shield blocking a coming attack from Behemoth's fisted hand though the force was enough to crack the shield.
The Behemoth finally succumbed to its injuries and crashed to the ground with a resounding bellow.
"Wait, where's Eberwolf?" Alador suddenly realized, scanning the battlefield for their furry companion.
Darius, in his own elegant way of expressing concern for his friend's safety, cursed, "Oh, that recklessly furry little–!" Before he could finish, the ground trembled with the sound of heavy footsteps. Looking up, they saw what could only be described as giant, skinless, grotesque centaurs charging towards them.
SCREECH!
"GET OUT OF THE WAY!" Alador roared, and he and Darius barely managed to dodge the onrushing Orcadians. The monstrous centaurs attacked any non-Sarkic they saw, wielding claws, teeth, and powerful kicks, or brandishing crude melee weapons like spears and swords. Behind them, Mordred the Morbid advanced, his magma sword blazing.
Meanwhile, Eberwolf tore through a Vampire's face, then leaped at a Goreblight before the creature could fire its weapon, biting down on its neck and spitting out bone and gore as the Sarkic died, gurgling on its own blood.
Eberwolf sniffed the air, her senses on high alert, and ran on all fours until she spotted Halyna. The Karcist was tossing aside various objects and magical artifacts, her tendrils snaking through the air as if searching for something specific.
Stealthily, Eberwolf crawled along the top of the wall, then, with a ferocious snarl, leaped down onto the Karcist's back. But Halyna's instincts were too sharp. Her eyes snapped back, and she reacted with blinding speed, slamming her elbow into Eberwolf's stomach with such force that the small creature spat blood and was sent hurtling through a nearby wall.
Eberwolf coughed and tried to rise, but Halyna pinned her to the ground with her arms. Then, her lower jaw split open, revealing rows of razor-sharp, shark-like teeth, poised to tear apart the injured and helpless Eberwolf, who could only growl in defiance.
SLAM!
The door to the room exploded inward, revealing a group of humanoid figures clad in sleek, black armor that Eberwolf had never seen before. Green dots glowed on their expressionless helmets, and rifles were pointed directly at Halyna.
"OPEN FIRE!" one of them barked in a furious, distorted male voice.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
The armored figures unleashed a barrage of bullets, a mix of automated fire, shotgun blasts, and precise rifle shots.
The bullets slammed into Halyna, who released Eberwolf and raised her arms to shield herself. Though she could regenerate from the damage, the hail of specialized rounds, designed specifically to combat Sarkics, jolted her backwards.
The Karcist's right arm transformed into wood, and from it swarmed countless gray, moth-like insects with pulsing red bulges on their abdomens. The moment they touched the ground or any object, they exploded.
"What?" one of the armored figures exclaimed, caught off guard.
"Ullu Ka Patha! DUCK!" another voice, this time female, cursed in an unfamiliar language. She was too busy diving for cover from the explosive moths to care.
BOOM!
The resulting explosions ripped through the room, powerful enough to be seen from outside Hexside, leaving a gaping hole in the structure.
One of the armored humanoids, his visor cracked to reveal an eye with a white pupil, coughed, struggling to his feet. He saw one of his comrades holding a grenade and running towards Halyna.
"CRAP! CARSON, STOP!"
But the soldier, seemingly in a state of delirious mania, laughed, "HAHAHAHA! THIS IS HOW A MTF CONDUCTS BUSINESS!" He hurled the grenade at the Karcist's face, only for one of her tendrils to swat it away, sending it exploding elsewhere. "Carson" then grabbed a fallen chair and slammed it against her, but the chair shattered as if it had hit solid rock, with no effect on Halyna.
She looked down, momentarily surprised by the reckless attack, then raised her hand, her fingers elongating into sharp, deadly claws.
Before she could strike, another humanoid, his visor cracked and the green dots glitching erratically, shoved Carson aside. "DOWN!" He then raised a medium-sized bazooka and fired a missile directly at the Karcist.
The missile slammed into her, sending her hurtling towards the roof before detonating. She crashed back down, regenerating with a scowl, recognizing the telltale signs of the organization that had sent the armored humanoids.
"Hey, multi-legged hag!"
Halyna turned to see one of the green-haired Blight twins calling out to her, a smugly confident expression on his face. She found their audacity impressive, considering she already regarded them as irritating brats in need of humbling.
Halyna also noticed the state of the remaining Sarkics and their creations. They seemed to be in a state of panic, either fleeing in terror or attacking with mindless abandon.
The reason? A shapeless, amorphous mass that kept shifting forms, a large beak-like mouth snapping open and closed.
"Have fun experiencing your nightmares with Gromy!" Emira taunted.
Grometheus, the Fear Bringer, momentarily glanced back at the Blight twins, its form shifting to create a nightmarish version of their mother, Odalia, with pupiless eyes and a chilling voice. "You're nothing but good-for-nothing, fake, wretched, superficial brats! Only good to look pretty, nothing more!"
The green-haired twins shuddered simultaneously, visibly shaken by the Fear Bringer's manifestation of their deepest insecurities.
Emira quickly regained her composure and snapped, "Not us, idiot, her!" She pointed a finger at Halyna.
Grometheus turned its attention back to the Karcist and moved closer. Halyna, however, remained unfazed, and the two engaged in a bizarre, hypnotic staring contest. Grometheus's mass writhed and contorted, forming countless eyes that stared into Halyna's soul. For a moment, the standoff continued, until Grometheus began to convulse violently, stepping back and clutching at its nonexistent head as it shrieked.
SHRIEK!
To the witch twins' immense dumbfoundedness, Grometheus sprouted multiple limbs and plunged them into its own mass, tearing itself apart and shedding black matter.
Whatever Grometheus saw in Halyna was so terrifying that it kept shrieking and contorting into ever more grotesque shapes until it finally exploded in a shower of black goo.
Emira and Edric, still slack-jawed and stunned, glanced back at Halyna, who stood with a chilling, emotionless face that seemed to have crawled straight from the abyss.
"Believe me," she said, her voice devoid of warmth, "you don't want to know."
Mordred the Red-Stepped lived up to his title, creating a trail of blood and gore with each swing of his sword. Ripped flesh splattered, painting the walls red with the essence of witches and demons. Any spell that struck him seemed to be reflected back at its caster, and despite his bulky size, he moved with surprising agility. His sword blunted nothing it touched, occasionally spilling magma with each cleave.
During his rampage, he ripped through several Abomatons, either dodging their attacks with ease or bouncing the blasts back at them.
"FOOLS!" he bellowed. "I am Mordred the Demon Knight! I have faced machines far more impressive, built in the image of the Machine God! They make far more than mere automatons running on sludge to stop me!" He cleaved his sword clean through an Abomaton's axe, cutting it in half. Then, he leaped toward Darius and Alador, who barely managed to avoid the plunging hilt of the sword.
Alador and Darius quickly tried to retaliate, but Mordred grabbed one of Alador's abomination limbs and swung him into Darius, sending both crashing into a nearby column. The severed limb was reduced to a puddle of purple goo and small mechanical parts.
Mordred walked menacingly, crushing a fallen witch's skull into a red paste with each step, towards the wheezing men.
"He has your ego Darius." Alador could not help but sarcastically commented.
"Oh shush you philistine!" Darius snarked back at Alador.
In the broken entrance to Hexside, Luz, Amity, Eda, King, and Owlbert arrived to witness the unfolding chaos.
"Wow, we missed a lot," was all Eda could say as she and the others rushed into the fray.
"One DAY I take a leave, one freaking day!" Amity growled in frustration, using her abomination magic to turn a mass of purple goo into a bowling ball, striking down Halkosts left and right.
King, no longer feeling unwell, channeled his newfound magic, growing even larger and more savage. He unleashed his shriek attack, sending hordes of invaders scattering, then locked into a fierce battle with a Nuckelavee.
"Nuckelavee!? First vampires, Goreblights, now Nuckelavees!? Is this a monster buffet night??" Luz incredulously exclaimed as she shot blasts of magic at the advancing Goreblights.
"Good, means MORE CRUSHING BAD GUYS!" King roared, swatting away a spear that an Orcadian tried to plunge into his chest, holding it with both hands. "Oh, you have a spear? That's cute!" He taunted, then tackled the hissing monstrosity to the ground like a seasoned wrestler.
Willow seemed to be in a berserker rage, her eyes glowing green, tears streaming down her face as she unleashed vines and carnivorous plants upon the invaders. She and Bump were surrounded by a group of witches, defending the wounded and vulnerable, including an unconscious Hunter.
On one side, Emira and Edric were fleeing from a monstrous Scylla, their illusion magic only briefly confusing the creature, failing to stop its relentless pursuit. On the other side, a hulking, armored, four-eyed knight decided that a sword was too good for Darius and Alador, and was beating them mercilessly with his bare hands. Each punch was powerful enough to crack and splatter the purple armor on Darius's form, while Alador's pack looked damaged, smoking and leaking purple fluid.
"Dad!" Amity cried out, unable to bear seeing her father in such a dire state.
"Oh no, oh no, which one should I help first?" Luz grabbed her hair in distress, overwhelmed by the sheer number of people in need, including her friends.
Eda, fortunately, was decisive.
"Me and your girlfriend go with the dumb twins; you go deal with dark and gloomy."
Luz looked at Eda in bafflement. "By myself!? Not that I'm not flattered by your confidence in me, but you expect me to deal with that by myself!"
Eda smirked. "And others because... King is now all charged."
The Latina girl didn't get it at first, but then a knowing smirk spread across her face. "Ooooh."
"Be careful!" Amity told her girlfriend, her brow furrowed with concern.
"Pssh! When am I not careful?" Luz smiled, but the blank stare that Amity gave her suggested that if the situation wasn't so dire, her cotton candy princess would have snarked about Luz's lack of 'safety measures'.
Then, she, Amity, and Eda separated, each heading towards their respective battles.
Eda and Amity worked together to save the green-haired twins, arriving just in time. They appeared weaker and paler, slowing their escape from the relentless Karcist.
As the Scylla-like woman lunged, she nearly impaled the twins with her tendrils, but Amity conjured a shimmering purple shield just in time. Eda, seizing the opportunity, dove at the creature.
While Eda engaged the Scylla in a flurry of attacks, Amity turned to her siblings, a mix of concern and exasperation on her face. "Must I always save your asses when you get into trouble?"
"Oh look, sis, it's our little sister Mittens," Edric smiled, and Emira echoed his sentiment.
"Little!? YOU-" Amity started, but she caught herself, taking a deep breath, recognizing that they were just trying to tease her.
Suddenly, Edric coughed, his hand flying to his mouth. To Amity's alarm, he coughed up blood. "I feel... not good...?" His legs began to buckle, and Emira's followed suit as they tried to support each other, only to collapse.
"Edric? Edric? EMIRA!?" Amity, stricken with panic, knelt down to check on them. They were alive, but clearly, something was terribly wrong.
It wasn't just the twins; one by one, the other witches and demons began to show signs of illness. Some vomited violently, while others developed grotesque, tumorous growths.
Edalyn glared at Halyna, her eyes narrowed with suspicion and fury. "What did you do?"
Instead of answering, Halyna breathed infection towards her, causing Eda to cough and stumble back. Then, Eda's body began to change, becoming even more animalistic as her curse took over, transforming her into the full-blown Owlbeast. She lunged at Halyna, who seemed morbidly fascinated by the transformation.
Luz, blasting a Snatcher that got too close, muttered, "This is bad, this is VERY bad!" She looked over at King, who was plummeting down on an Orcadian while holding another struggling Orcadian by its elbows, seemingly having the time of his life.
"Hey bro! Give me the powerscale thing!"
"You just had to ask, sis!" He laughed, throwing the Nuckelavee upward before smashing it down onto the lower Orcadian. Next, with his hands glowing with energy, he touched Luz on her shoulder, causing her to change in a flash of light.
Her eyes, once filled with youthful exuberance, now glowed with the ancient power of a Titan, pupil-less and knowing. Her hair cascaded down her back like liquid gold, each strand shimmering with celestial energy. Across her skin, intricate markings blazed – a roadmap of the Titan's very essence, pulsing with raw magic. Where her human clothes had been, now gleamed armor-like plating, as if forged from solidified sunlight. Exactly like her Titan form when she was imbued by the power of King's father.
Empowered, Luz flew swiftly, unleashing magical glyphs of ice, fire, and light at the invaders. Seeing her as the biggest threat, the Goreblights with firearms opened fire, creating a thick smoke screen.
When the smoke cleared, an energy shield shimmered around Luz, unharmed and smirking. "My turn!" In a blur of purple, she zoomed around, the shockwave from her speed throwing enemies in every direction. She spotted Darius holding a sickly, now defenseless, Alador as the armored, bulky knight raised his sword to deliver the final blow.
"HAHAHA! You guys are so screwed!" King roared with laughter, watching Luz decimate the enemy ranks.
Acting quickly, she dove towards Mordred, her fist glowing with glyphic power, and roared, "EAT THIS SUCKAAAAAAAA- !!!"
Upon contact, a massive shockwave erupted, filling the air with smoke. For a moment, everyone stopped, looking back in anticipation.
"That's my sister!" King cheered.
But as the smoke dissipated, Mordred remained standing, unscathed. He held her fist in his hand, red runes and pentagrams glowing ominously around his armor. A collective gasp of shock rippled through Hexside. Luz, imbued with the power of a Titan who had defeated Belos when he was consuming the Boiling Isles, stood in disbelief.
"How…!" Luz stammered.
Mordred chuckled sinisterly. "I enjoy the look of confusion when an inferior being meets a higher power!" Suddenly, he plunged his hand into Luz's chest. She froze, blood dripping from her mouth. Mordred withdrew his hand, now bloodied, clutching a human heart with a bile sac still attached, leaving Luz staring in horror at her own still-beating organ. Then, with a sickening squeeze, he crushed the heart in his clenched fist.
Darius, Bump, Alador, Eda, King, Willow, and everyone else watched in shock and horror.
"NOOO!!!" Amity screamed in absolute dismay, tears streaming down her face. She tried to rush back to Luz, but was grabbed by the throat by Halyna, who had recovered and used Eda's distraction to push her away.
"Time to go, we already got what we needed," Mordred called out. Red arcane runes formed pentagrams beneath his and Halyna's feet, creating a portal of a type none of the witches or demons recognized. As they stepped into it, Mordred pushed Luz away.
"LUUUUUZ!!" Amity screamed once more in grief as she and Halyna disappeared into the portal, leaving only her staff behind. The pentagrams beneath them vanished.
The last thing Luz remembered before darkness took over was the anguished cries of Eda and King.
Kilometers away from Hexside, atop a windswept cliff, a hooded figure stood, gazing in the direction of the school. They sensed the waves of grief, pain, and despair emanating from the distance. The figure's voice, though soft, carried a weight of concern and regret. "Ieva… what have you done?"
Notes:
I was inspired of Aldor having extra magic-tech limbs using Abomination Magic from this:
https/garth2the2ndpower/art/Some-clever-portmanteau-of-Alador-and-Dr-Octopus-890207310