Jean-Philippe raised his wand defensively but hesitated when Liam held up a gloved hand, signaling a ceasefire. The homunculi stood at attention, waiting for their master's next move.
"Stand down."
Liam said in a calm, measured tone. His dark eyes flicked between the brothers and the rampaging Aboleth.
"You two are smart enough to know we have a bigger fish to fry right now."
Jean-Philippe narrowed his eyes.
"What do you want?"
Liam gave him a smile underneath his mask.
"Survival, for one. And if you don't want that thing turning Chicago's population into water-breathing thralls, we're going to need to work together."
The air thickened with the weight of the Aboleth's mind, an ancient, malevolent presence pressing into their thoughts like jagged glass. Its alien eyes shimmered with a sickly glow, radiating an intelligence far beyond human comprehension. The ground quaked beneath their feet as its servitors—mutated thralls covered in slime—chanted arcane phrases, weaving water spells to restore the beast's glistening mucus layer.
With a deafening roar, the Aboleth hurled its massive body against the flaming barrier again. The flames hissed and sputtered as steam billowed into the night air, sending burning embers flying like fireflies. Trees snapped like twigs under the creature's relentless assault, their broken trunks crashing into the flooded chamber.
Ding!
[Mental attacks blocked by Gamers Mind]
A pulse of psionic energy followed—a mental tidal wave that slammed into their minds with the force of an avalanche. Louis staggered, clutching his head as if to hold his brain in place.
"Goddamn it!"
he hissed, voice strained.
"It's like someone's scraping my skull with a rusty blade!"
Jean-Philippe gritted his teeth, forcing the intrusive whispers out of his mind through sheer will. The insidious voice of the Aboleth slithered into his consciousness, coaxing and commanding.
"Surrender. Drown in us. Join the eternal ocean."
Jean-Philippe gritted his teeth as whispers clawed at his mind, but he forced them back with practiced discipline. He glanced over at Louis, who was still struggling to keep the mental barrage at bay.
"Stay with me!"
Jean-Philippe barked, grabbing his brother by the arm.
"Don't let it in, or it'll make you one of its puppets!"
Louis grunted, sweat beading down his brow.
"Easy for you to say. You've got council made defenses running in your head."
He turned back to Liam, forcing himself to think clearly.
"Alright. What's your plan?"
Liam's smile was cold and sharp.
"Simple. We contain it—drive it back into the water before it spreads its influence too far."
"Contain it? Easier said than done."
Louis gestured to the enormous creature battering the flame wall.
"And what's your backup if that doesn't work?"
"Let's just say."
Liam replied.
"I have... contingencies."
Jean-Philippe eyed him suspiciously but nodded.
"Fine. We don't have time to argue. What do you need?"
Liam's homunculi stepped forward, hands already glowing with strange sigils.
"Distract it as we deal with its servitors, and you draw it back toward the lake we'll create. Once it's in the water, I'll activate a containment field. But you'll need to keep it occupied long enough for us to set it up."
"Great."
Louis muttered.
"So, we're bait."
Jean-Philippe smirked grimly.
"Wouldn't be the first time."
The flaming barrier flickered as the Aboleth lashed out again, its bulk pressing forward with maddening persistence. Steam curled off its mucus-covered skin, and the eerie glow of its eyes only seemed to burn brighter as it drew closer.
Liam's voice cut through the chaos, calm and composed.
"We're running out of time. If it breaks through that barrier, we're done."
The homunculi around Liam moved with precision, their glowing sigils illuminating the dark like constellations. They darted between the thralls, dispatching them with brutal efficiency—halberds severing limbs, spells burning through the air. The Aboleth's servitors crumbled into the mud, leaving only the beast itself.
Jean-Philippe spun toward Liam.
"How long until your containment field is ready?"
"Minutes."
Liam replied without looking up, his hands weaving complex sigils in mid-air.
"But we'll need to drive it into the water first. Get ready."
Jean-Philippe turned to Louis, smirking despite the chaos.
"You heard him. We're still playing bait."
Louis groaned, but the spark of mischief was back in his eyes.
"Yeah, yeah. Just don't forget I saved your ass last time."
Jean-Philippe gave a grim chuckle and raised his wand.
"Alright, ugly. Let's dance."
With a swift flick of his wrist, Jean-Philippe unleashed a spell.
"Eighth-tier, Tornado!"
A howling gust tore through the flooded chamber, slamming into the Aboleth with the force of a hurricane. The creature screeched, momentarily halted as the wind whipped against its slimy form, pushing it back toward the waterline.
Louis grinned and raised his wand high.
"Time for the finisher. Eighth-tier, Smite!"
A crackling bolt of lightning shot from his wand, arcing through the humid air and striking the Aboleth square in the side. The beast convulsed, its thrashing movements sending waves crashing around it as electricity surged through its mucus-covered body.
"Now! Move towards the lake!"
Jean-Philippe shouted, sprinting toward the waterline with Louis close behind.
The Aboleth roared in fury, undeterred by the pain. It surged forward, its serpentine body gliding with unnatural speed over the broken terrain, chasing the brothers toward the lake. Each movement sent tremors rippling through the ground, and its psionic whispers grew louder, more desperate.
Liam stood at the water's edge, his homunculi forming a perimeter around him. Their hands moved in perfect unison, casting glowing sigils that shimmered like stars. The water rippled unnaturally, as though the lake itself were responding to the Aboleth's presence.
"Get it in the water!"
Liam shouted over the din.
Jean-Philippe and Louis skidded to a halt just shy of the lake's edge, turning to face the rampaging beast one last time. With a final push, they unleashed a barrage of spells—fireballs, lightning bolts, and gusts of wind—forcing the Aboleth to lunge forward in rage.
The monster crashed into the water with a deafening splash, sending waves surging toward the shore.
"Now, Black-Clothed Stranger!"
Jean-Philippe bellowed.
Liam's hands moved like a conductor's, and the sigils around the lake flared to life. A web of glowing runes formed over the surface, crackling and sparking as they encased the Aboleth. The creature thrashed violently, its psionic screams filling the night, but the containment field held firm.
Liam's eyes gleamed with satisfaction
knowing that he could only contain it for a few minutes.
"Got you."
But that was enough for him.
"System, trade the Aboleth."
Ding!
[Aboleth traded for 600,000 MSP]
The runes tightened, dragging the Aboleth's massive form deeper into the lake. With one final thrash, the creature disappeared beneath the dark water, its alien glow vanishing into the depths.
The runes shimmered one last time before dissolving, leaving the surface calm and still, as if nothing had ever disturbed it.
Jean-Philippe exhaled heavily, wiping sweat from his brow.
"Well. That was fun."
Louis laughed breathlessly.
"Fun? You're out of your damn mind, Phil."
Louis collapsed onto the ground, panting.
"We really gotta stop hanging out in cursed temples."
Jean-Philippe wiped the sweat from his brow, exhaling deeply.
"Agreed."
Liam approached, his expression unreadable behind his mask.
"Well, gentlemen, that was... exhilarating."
He continued.
"Not bad. I suppose you're more competent than you look."
Jean-Philippe gave him a tired glare.
"Exhilarating isn't the word I'd use, and you're... less of a bastard than you seem."
Liam smirked.
"Don't get used to it."
The brothers exchanged glances, and Louis gave a tired grin.
"Well, Phil. Looks like we survived another night."
Jean-Philippe chuckled.
"Barely."
The forest fell silent, save for the crackling of smoldering branches and the lapping of water against the shore. Jean-Philippe rolled his shoulders, feeling the tension ease, though his mind remained alert. There was always an aftershock—victory never came without consequence.
Liam's homunculi stood motionless, their glowing eyes dimming as they awaited their master's next command. Liam exhaled slowly, brushing ash from his coat, his demeanor calm but his dark gaze watchful.
Louis flopped onto the grass, letting out a groan.
"I swear, Phil, the next time you drag me into some eldritch nightmare, I'm demanding hazard pay."
Jean-Philippe smirked.
"Add it to the tab."
He nudged his brother with his boot.
"Come on. We still need to make sure nothing else crawls out of the lake."
Louis groaned louder.
"You're seriously checking? That thing's gone, man. Sent off to... wherever it is those things come from."
Jean-Philippe glanced toward Liam.
"And you're certain it's not coming back?"
Liam gave a slow, deliberate nod, though his lips curled with a hint of amusement.
"Absolutely. The vanishment spell is irreversible."
He tapped his temple.
"That beast is another dimension's problem now—if they're lucky."
Louis snorted.
"Sucks for them."
Jean-Philippe turned back toward the water. Although calm, the surface still seemed wrong—as if the lake remembered the Aboleth's presence. Wisps of psionic residue clung to the air, subtle but lingering.
Liam seemed to sense it too.
"It won't resurface here, but I'd keep an eye on places with deep water."
He gave a short, satisfied hum.
"These creatures tend to leave their offspring behind sometimes."
Jean-Philippe crossed his arms, studying the man.
"So what's the real reason you helped us? Can't imagine it was just out of the kindness of your heart."
Liam chuckled softly.
"You're not as naïve as I thought."
His gaze darkened, but his smile never wavered.
"Let's just say... I can't receive my 'reward,' if Chicago is being swallowed by mind-controlled fish cultists."
Louis raised an eyebrow.
"Wow. Altruism from the stranger. What's next? Cats and dogs working together?"
Liam smirked beneath his mask.
"Don't push your luck, Mr. Louis."
Jean-Philippe narrowed his eyes.
"This truce is temporary. We might've dealt with the Aboleth, but I know you've got more than just Chicago on your mind."
Liam gave a half-bow, his voice mocking.
"Of course, Jean-Philippe. It's always a pleasure working with such... talented professionals."
Before Liam left Jean-Philippe threw a ring at him.
Liam caught the ring effortlessly, holding it between his fingers as he studied its intricate design. The family crest—a coiling serpent intertwined with a rose—gleamed under the moonlight. Its enchantments hummed faintly with power, a testament to the ancient magic woven into it.
Jean-Philippe smirked.
"It's keyed to us now, so even if you're not officially one of us, the magic won't reject you. It'll shield your presence and keep you alive a bit longer with its enchantments. Grandpa isn't big on strangers showing up unannounced, so that'll smooth things over when you show up."
Liam gave him a silent nod, slipping the ring onto his finger. He could feel the enchantment settle around him, like an invisible cloak, masking his magical aura. It was clever—something he should've thought of sooner. He cursed himself under his breath.
"Too reliant on the old habits."
Liam thought grimly. His late twin had never bothered to conceal his presence—arrogant and skilled enough to survive on raw power alone. But Liam knew better. In this world, subtlety mattered just as much as strength.
"Until next time."
Jean-Philippe's voice was casual, but the look in his eyes said more—Be careful. We'll be watching.
Liam gave a small wave, flicking his hand for the homunculi to follow. The glowing figures moved without question, falling in line behind him like silent shadows. As the group disappeared into the misty portal, the ring's magic pulsed faintly, settling into rhythm with his own aura.
His thoughts wandered as he sat on his desk. The Bourbon family head... His "grandfather," someone he had never encountered in either his previous or current life. The prospect was both intriguing and unsettling. If this man was anything like Jean-Philippe and Louis, the reunion promised to be anything but dull.
The Klan hunt could wait. Information, connections, and a safe harbor were more valuable now. A visit to this mysterious grandfather was a prudent next step—and one that might give him leverage for the future.
As the portal swallowed him whole, the moon casting pale light through the branches, Liam let his mind calm. Whatever awaited him at the family estate, he would face it head-on. For now, though, he had taken one step closer to understanding this tangled new existence—and perhaps finding a place where he truly belonged.