Oliver screamed and black energy, materializing into black flames, began to erupt from his back, forming something similar to wings. A vantablack-colored sword began to appear right in his chest, in front and behind, which, when fully formed, literally pierced through Clain's body, but the pierced man himself did not pay attention to it. Without hesitation, he grabbed the sword by the hilt and pulled it out of his chest, spilling a lot of his blood in the process. The hole in the torso was instantly regenerated – bones, flesh, muscles and skin covered it immediately.
Sean looked at this transformation with an ever-growing smile smile. Shabby, on the other hand, even if she wanted to do anything, she could not – the raw pressure of the energy released by Oliver during this transformation was suppressing her, to the point of her not being able to move a finger. The visitors, even if they wanted to get up and run away, could not do this – if the horned girl took enormous effort just to stand, then ordinary drunken extras were pressed to the floor by this energy, and someone was literally crashed to death, as if by a hydraulic press.
–What... what is going on here?! That enormous power comes from your Turbulence?!
But Oliver didn't answer Shabby's question. Silently, without expressing any emotion on his face, Oliver raised his sword above his head, leaving a quickly disappearing trail of black energy in the air. Sean spread his arms to the sides, as if preparing to take that attack with open arms. Clain rushed from his previous location, pushing off the floor with his feet so hard that the wooden floor and the bar counter next to where he was standing shattered to pieces. But at the same moment, when he instantly appeared in front of Sean and began to lower his sword, his former friend disappeared. But Oliver did not stop and, leaving a black trail in the air behind the blade, cut the air. Whether it was energy or pure kinetic force from the swing, the walls and roof in the direction of the slash shattered into many small pieces and scattered throughout the city.
Immediately, Oliver, without turning around, swung his sword to his right, from bottom to top. He must have clearly felt that Sean was standing right there. A wave of black energy erupted from the blade and flew at speed, hundreds of thousands times faster than sound, straight at the surgeon. However, he stopped time again, now without any breath-ins, and moved. The wave continued its path, cutting through the walls of many houses in its path until it dissipated.
–Tsk-tsk. You shouldn't destroy others' property like this, – Sean said, and then instantly moved again to avoid another wave launched by Oliver. – Although, I don't think you can even hear me in this state of mind... Come on, spray your hatred! All that excess that you release with every attack or even movement... I need it all!
Once again he avoided the energy wave. At this point, there was little to nothing left out of bar, or, rather, out of entire city block it was located in. The panic began in the city, with locals running around in attempts to save their lives. "Did anyone die" is not even a question anymore. Correct question would be "how many have died already".
Sean was now directly behind Shabby and had his hand on her shoulder. The horned girl, only now coming to its senses after a minute without moving, shuddered and waved her hand behind, but Oliver's timelord "friend" was nowhere to be seen. What's even worse is that another deadly wave of Hate energy was already flying towards her, or more precisely at Sean, who just a millisecond ago was behind her. Shabby barely had time to cover herself with her hands, but this was not enough – the hand that took the blow flew away from the body at the point of impact, and the second one, which was behind her, although it stopped the main blow, was clearly broken. At the same time, the girl herself was thrown so far that it was akin to O. Clain's space program.
The traitor was nowhere to be seen, but Oliver felt that he was somewhere nearby. He clearly felt another clot of Hate. Lowering his sword and holding it only with his right hand, Clain walked outside, towards where he could feel Sean. Although, "outside" is a strange word, given there were no longer any traces of walls or roof. Pieces of the stone building, mixed with the blood of the bar's patrons and people in the area, either lay nearby or were scattered across different parts of the city. As soon as Oliver stepped onto the pile of rubble that used to be walls, he saw an entire army of city guards – a couple hundred armored men filling the streets. Or rather, what is left of the streets.
–You're under arrest for... – one of these background characters began, but did he really think that the city guard in a fantasy would ever do anything?
Oliver didn't listen, and probably he wouldn't hear anything anyway. He just waved his left hand from bottom to top in the direction where the guards were. The ground beneath them trembled and a few moments later, thousands of thin black spikes, 15 meters high, burst out from under it, over a huge area. Those guards who did not die immediately were sandwiched between them and could not move. On one of these spikes, on an area thinner than a needle, Sean was already calmly standing and waving his hand.
–Perfect! Pure Hate at its finest! I wonder, why have you been holding his amazing power back all this time? Well, now... let's see what your Hate is worth in comparison with mine!
A black liquid erupted from the traitor's right palm, but changed drastically, hardening and taking the form of a one-handed sword that looked like a long clock hand. At the same moment, he appeared right in front of Oliver and immediately struck with a slashing blow from above. This treacherous blade was met by the black sword of the maddened Clain.
~*~
From under the yellow cloak, a pure meat tentacle with something like a metal cutter at the end burst out towards the angel. However, Cirael easily repulsed it with her flaming blade. Nyarla's limb went up, but the flame spread on it... but suddenly, the flesh turned into stone, the burning of which quickly stopped. Immediately after that, this thin stone tentacle increased in size, becoming a huge hammer, which the cloaked creature brought down on the girl. Clain picked up the hammer with her free hand and held it easily enough.
–Don't underestimate raw physical strength! – Cirael shouted, threw the hammer up and, raising her sword, rushed at the informant.
Finding herself at a fairly close distance, the angel swung down her sword, but the piece of cloak near her head of Nyarla changed drastically, turning into some kind of shield. The girl's sword stopped on this shield, but she was ready for something like that – Cirael let go of the sword, which she was holding with her right hand, and a spear appeared in her left hand, which she was already raising to strike from the side. At this time, the sword dissolved into pure light. She tried to pierce the body of the informant, but that body, in response, got deformed, twisted to the point of absurdity, and the spear passed by the flesh – if there was flesh at all – and the robe.
The spear in the girl's hand also disappeared, becoming pure light, and she herself retreated back, flapping her wings. Only now did she notice that there was no longer a tentacle, a huge hammer, or even a shield on Nyarla's head. "So he can change his body however he wants? And how can I defeat him, considering that almost all my skills are just melee combat?" thought Cirael. And that was true – if Nyarla's transformation capabilities are unlimited, then the angel with her physical attacks is powerless. But she had already accepted the challenge; it was not right for a heavenly warrior to retreat so easily.
But the informant did not just stand idle. He seemed to have fired shot from under the hood, from where his face seemed to be. It's almost impossible to dodge shotgun blasts up close... and for Cirael, it is not necessary. The angel abruptly covered her head with her hand, so that the shot crashed into the plate armor. Ordinary armor would have been pierced by a shot, but this was not ordinary steel at all. However, this was not a panacea – these "bullets" must also have been part of the creature's body, because they stretched sharply and seemed to pass between the metal atoms of the armor. But this was not the main thing – these "bullets" sharply stretched inside, creating holes in the armor. They would have harmed Cirael herself, but she had a durable enough body to ignore it. Having destroyed most of the armor covering the girl's body, these pieces of Nyarla's body became dust and scattered in the air.
The angel, unharmed, sharply flapped her wings and flew straight up, breaking through the ceiling. But this was not in order to run away – she unfastened the remains of her armor, which, having fallen from the girl, collapsed to the ground as if each element of the armor weighed a hundred tons. Because each element of that armor did indeed weight a hundred tons or more. Having fallen, this armor brought down the information agency, and a couple of neighboring buildings. The impact of the fall was similar to an explosion.
Clain, now dressed only in a white veil, was now floating in the air 20 meters above the ground, either lowering or rising slightly with a slight swing. Of course, she did not expect that this would kill Nyarla, so a bow consisting of translucent light and an arrow appeared in her hands. She quickly took aim, drew the bowstring and fired the arrow down into the ruins of the building. When hit, an explosion occurred, now a real one, which scattered pieces of the walls and ceiling, and left a small crater in place of the building.
From this crater, right under Cirael, a thin metal spike burst out, going high into the air, but, fortunately, the girl managed to fly to the side. The thorn retracted into itself from below to its highest point, ending up on the same level as Сirael. After that, this mental started distorting, changing color, and turned into the figure in the yellow cloak again. As soon as this transformation ended, with a slashing blow from bottom to top diagonally, the lower half of the body, along with part of Nyarla's cloak, was cut off by Cirael's sword. Apparently, she had already put away her bow and summoned her sword again. The upper part, as if nothing had happened, floated in the air, not even bleeding. Immediately after this lightning-fast attack, Cirael flapped her wings and flew back. Under the cloak it became clear that the informant's "body" was a shapeless brown mass, which sometimes also "gurgled" with blisters. The lower half of the body, which had previously fallen down, became dust and the wind carried it away.
–You have become faster, – said the creature in the cloak, calmly. – Your armor only made you heavier and slower, I didn't anticipate it.
–I can tell you two things. First: this won't be the last time my strike will reach you. And second: judging by the way the pieces of your body behave when separated, you have some kind of "core"... which means I can kill you. Are you giving up?
–Surrender?... – Nyarly's "voice" lost calm and trembled, although it was still inhuman. – Against a Clain?... never! I can't give up until Kai...
But then it interrupted its speech – explosions and screams of the crowd were heard in the distance. Bursts of black energy, so familiar to Cirael, were also visible there. Turning around and seeing this, Cirael turned pale.
–Well, um... then I give up! The only stake in this battle is the information about Necronomicon, and my husband's life is more important! So, well... I'm off!
Without sheathing her sword, Clain rushed, significantly exceeding the sound barrier, to where the energy of Hate was seen. She no longer cared what happened to Nyarla, even if Nyarla was chasing the angel. The scene before her convinced her that the worst that could happen had happened. Murphy's Law – "If something can go wrong, it will go wrong." Hundreds of bodies strung on black spikes, even more people under the rubble, some alive and some dead. And in the middle of all this – Oliver is in "mental breakdown mode", holding back a man, who, judging by clothes and hairstyle, was Sean, with his sword. However, this unknown man was covered in black energy, just like Oliver. Besides, the surgeon never used swords... it couldn't be Sean, right?
Having blocked bad thoughts from her head, Cirael decided that she should first deal with Oliver's unknown enemy, and then, together with Ciel, pull her husband out of a nervous breakdown... "by the way, where is Ciel?", the girl thought. Okay, that's for later. The angel rushed down, raising a sword above her head, but an unknown person in a white robe, without looking back, pointed his hand at her and...
~*~
Oliver's wife, who had just arrived, froze in the air. She couldn't even move a muscle anymore. Apparently, somehow, Sean could now stop individual objects in time. But Oliver hardly even noticed this, being in his Emotional Turbulence. He only, realizing that he would not throw Sean away in that clash of swords, hit his former friend with the fist of his left hand, which was not holding a weapon. Sean just watched as the fist came closer to his face. He knew that at any moment he could stop time and evade...
A fist, surrounded by black flames, reached the traitor's face and hit him in the jaw, and former surgeon, spraying saliva mixed with black blood, flew back 200 meters, but, apparently having stopped time again, instantly found himself on his feet. The lower half of Sean's head was missing.
–W... why couldn't I stop time?! What have you... – voice from Sean's throat "said".
Suddenly, he bent over and vomited a huge stream of black liquid. This would have been the perfect moment to attack, but Oliver, apparently, also felt bad – the same liquid poured from his mouth, and he fell to his knees. His eyes gradually began to return to normal, instead of being completely black, including the whites and irises. Barely standing on his feet after vomiting, Sean said:
–What the...
Without finishing, he disappeared. At the same moment, Cirael came out of "stasis" and finally completed her strike, cutting through thin air. "Huh?" she said, looking around. Noticing her husband, the angel ran up to him and, sitting on her knees, hugged him.
–Ciel! – she shouted. But nobody came.
Oliver raised his head and looked at Cirael. To her surprise, his eyes were normal and his face showed emotion, unlike other cases of Hate obsession. At the same time, the emotions expressed on his face were pure, genuine sadness and sorrow. He cried.
–What happened here?... – asked Zirael.
–He... he killed her, – the man said in a trembling voice, – Sean killed Ciel! He injected himself with Hate and became... like this! And I... I couldn't protect her... and I also killed so many innocent people...
Clain looked back at the consequences of his rampage. Although he had already come to his senses, the wings of black flames and the sword lying on the ground did not disappear.
–Everything's fine. It's not your fault... he provoked you... a lot of stuff happened! – Cirael couldn't believe that her friend killed Ciel, and that he was the one with whom Oliver fought... but she still tried to calm her husband down, even if with such trite words.
And everything could probably be fine, but suddenly it became very dark. The light of the sun disappeared. Looking up, Clains immediately understood the reason – the entire city, and possibly way larger area, was covered by a brown hand of colossal size. "Nyarla!" Cirael shouted. The hand began to slowly fall. The angel trembled, she definitely couldn't stop this attack. This is the end...
But Oliver stood up and, picking up the black sword, put his left hand up. Nyarla's hand has almost reached the ground and destroyed tall buildings. However, engulfed in black energy, Clain calmly stopped this hulk with one hand. Immediately, he threw this brown limb upward and swung his sword, sending out a wave of energy, cutting this huge city-sized arm in half. A voice rang out that was so loud that it ears bleed:
–You can't stop me, Clain!
Cirael and Oliver opened their eyes and mouths – somewhere over the horizon a figure so strange and irrational that it was indescribable began to rise. If someone looked from space, they would know that this brown body was hanging somewhere in space and was larger than the planet itself. A tentacle erupted from the body and began to quickly fall towards where the Clains were. Such a blow would probably destroy this entire planet and not leave even a small piece of it. This time, Clains can't stop it, even with power of Hate.
–At this point, I'm afraid even I am powerless... well, I love you, Cirael, – Oliver said surprisingly calmly.
So calmly, as if he knew that they would be saved. Time stood still. A man in a white kimono appeared near the Clains, holding in his hand a pocket watch with 8 clock hands, each of which did not move. Schrodinger put the watch in his kimono pocket and said:
–Well-well-well, I am almost late. I guess, this is really too tough for you. Okay, it's time to return my favor to him... So... – he put his hand on the hilt of the katana and, using iaido, cut the air; a thin blue trail remained in the air. – Toki wa ugokidasu.
Time passed again, and in place of the trace in the air, some kind of spatial rift opened, 15 meters wide. Nyarla, despite their absurd size, was sucked into that rift, while space was distorting, making the huge creature millions times smaller so it would fit. And while the Clains looked in shock at how the brown thing of a planetary scale was "flushed away" into a large portal, Nyarla completely disappeared in it.
–Uncle Sher...
–Don't mind me, I'm just returning the favor to an old friend. He very convincingly asked me to save your life... especially since I did not expect that Necronomicon's friends would be so hostile to the Clains.
With these words, the non-Asian samurai turned to Oliver and Cirael. Slowly he began to put the katana back into its sheath, and only when the guard rested on it did the rift disappear. Oliver's face lit up with anger.
–You! If it weren't for you, Ciel would still be alive!
–Hm... I guess you're right. Eh, it's fine. I think it's for the better.
Oliver wanted to attack Schrödinger, but he had already disappeared after winking at Clains. Well, at least they are alive and the troubles are over... right? Of course not. Something green fell from the sky to the ground. When the dust cleared, there was a "man" sitting on one knee in the large crater that appeared from this landing. He rested his right hand on the ground. This right hand was covered with green scales. The stranger who appeared so pretentiously wore a green robe with a gold belt and without a hood. He was barefoot. Sea green hair contrasted sharply with red eyes with vertical pupils. And most importantly, behind his back there were 2 large dark green membranous wings, like those of a bat. The unknown man stood up and in one movement jumped from the crater to the Clains.
–What now?! – Oliver asked angrily.
Surprisingly, the stranger bowed. At the same time, there was some movement behind him, which made it clear that he also had a tail.
–My name is Ktul. It is a pity that the one who defeated Nyarla has already disappeared. But it's fine. At least you two are still here.
~*~
The empty white space. This is where Nyarla ended up at. Enraged, the planetary being shouted from their non-existent mouth:
–CLAAAIN!!!
–You have changed. What else to expect if your changes are written exactly like that... hm, you were looking for me, well, here I am.
In the air, right in front of the supposed "head" of an indescribable creature, a man with dark brown, almost black, shoulder-length hair appeared. He wore his usual boring clothes – a white shirt with a black vest over it, black trousers and black shoes. This despondency was only alleviated by the blue cloak that fluttered, although there was no wind here. Next to his belt, seemingly on magic, hung a sword broken off in the middle. This was the same archmage that Oliver, Cirael and Ciel saw a week ago. The man was floating in the air, neither falling nor rising. A slight smile was on his face.
–KAAAI!!! – Nyarla screamed.
She tried to rush towards Kai, but couldn't – something was holding her back, as if invisible chains were shackling her huge body.
–You'll have to stay put. And... – the archmage, whose name seemingly was Kai, pointed the index finger of his right hand at Nyarla, – I'm sorry that you suffered for so long, Martha. Starbuster.
Multi-colored energy burst out from his finger, in the form of a sharply expanding beam, covering a three times larger space than Nyarla's... no, Martha's body. And when this beam dried up, there was nothing in the place of the creature.
–Sorry, Martha. I should have released you earlier. Don't be afraid, she will pay for everything, – Kai said and, closing his eyes, disappeared.