194 - Sewer Wars Pt. 3 [Cherno] (Patreon)

As the cloud of dust and mist started to clear, Achmed saw it. Utterly unharmed, in fact it looked like the shape had completely bypassed the killzone before the charges had even gone off. An unearthly aura of pitch-black smoke rose from the invader’s armour, as if it was some cursed ghost that had just walked straight through solid stone. Achmed raised his Wing Barrier without even thinking.

Some thirty meters downrange from him, it stopped. Somehow, he felt that it knew that firing would be pointless, it knew that he could effectively defend against its missiles while retreating too quickly for it to catch him before he got back to the mansion.

But then, the green-eyed demon adjusted its stance, turning side-on and leaning forward on the right leg to the extreme with the left leg outstretched backwards. It tucked in its right arm; a tackling stance, resting the left hand on its belt. With the turn of a dial, an ominous aura of dense smoke and embers enveloped the figure, and it pointed its left arm’s casting catalyst… Backwards.

For a moment, Achmed was confused. To add to his confusion, that raven spirit from before appeared once more, simply coming into his awareness as if it had been invisible until now. It just flew above him, strangely not attacking, only to stop dead-still, hovering near a wall while looking further down the tunnel.

This moment of confusion was, inevitably, broken. With an enormous rumbling noise, the green-eyed demon went flying down the tunnel straight at him, seemingly riding a pillar of smoke and flame like some sort of giant firework.

COUPLER CHARGE

BLACK SUN COMET

Achmed quickly ran up the wall, hoping to simply avoid the charge to save his life. This job was just that, a job, so he would not offer up his life for the mafia. The demon glared at him, but passed him by as it went tearing down the tunnel. The raven, however, was different. It suddenly spoke to him with a demonic voice full of accusation: “Filth.”

Achmed turned just in time to hear the spirit speak again: “None can save your soul. None escape the wrath. Repent.”

And just like that, the bird vanished in a puff of smoke.

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Krahe had fully intended to turn that wall-walker into a greasy smear, but she had severely underestimated the difficulty of controlling the coupler charge. Though the strain of harnessing the Black Sun Coupler’s full power was substantially reduced by her strengthened body and the Viridaimon Armor’s unique design, it was nonetheless sufficiently severe that she had no choice but to entirely focus solely on maneuvering through the tunnel’s curves. She didn’t feel any particular regret about leaving the gangster alive; Casus would get to him.

The rocket-charge didn’t last nearly long enough to cover the full distance to the mansion’s basements, but that was a mercy; immediately following the coupler charge’s end, the Viridaimon Armor lost power. Without proper training and lacking typical safeguards, the coupler charge had dumped every iota of power output. The light in the armor’s eyes sputtered out, and its full weight bore down on her. It was so suffocatingly heavy she could only walk, stumbling over to the wall. Over the course of a few seconds, the armor returned to life and the burden eased, but the belt had not been spared. It was still functional, but drawing on it for combat-level power output, let alone further coupler charges, would inevitably destroy the belt’s internals. She wanted to make it last, given the enormous power and durability it afforded her, but she knew better than to rely on a self-destructive prototype, let alone to assume that it would last the full length of a combat operation.

Krahe checked if the wall-walker wasn’t following her, feeling a pang of disappointment when she found that he wasn’t. She then continued onward, and reached the entrance to the mansion’s basement complex before long. It was a whole cargo loading dock, with three branches spreading out. The frames of great bulkheads yawned empty, and the loading area was deserted… At first glance. In reality, there were indeed people here; she learned that the hard way from a multicolored hail of magic and bullets, erupting from several spots. Behind pillars, another on an elevated walkway, a pair beyond a corner, inside a storeroom filled with a maze of containers. A quartet of those borged-out things dropped down from the ceiling where they had been hanging, screeching and weeping as they charged headlong towards her on all fours.

And so, the first true battle began. Even as she was, armored and armed to a degree sufficient to take on mid-rankers, Krahe was still at a disadvantage here. A direct battle was a foolish idea even with the Viridaimon Armor.

Striding sideways through the awkward layout of the loading dock, Krahe immediately began forming a smoke grenade before Astro Diving. Just this act was enough to damage the enemy’s morale, with screams of possessed ancient armor abounding, while the few who retained their full composure screamed orders at the so-called “Stillborns”. Meanwhile, Krahe circled them like the ghost she appeared to be, ducking into the storage room before surfacing and tossing the smoke grenade. As she entered, she raised a jade wall to block off the entrance, leaving only one other. She sent Barzai to watch over that entryway as she cleared the rest of the storeroom. There were only two people here, huddled together in the corner; a man and woman, or more appropriately, a boy and a girl. Cowards with no killing instinct and auras about as strong as Mohawk, and dressed in a similarly threatening biker-esque style. Given the situation, it made them appear even less threatening. She openly walked between the rows of crates towards them, and whimpering, one of them fired off a purplish buzzsaw crackling with electricity.

The electric saw flew by Krahe’s head, not for lack of accuracy, but because the boy’s intended aim was so obvious. As such, Krahe just tilted her head out of the way. The saw bit into the ceiling and traveled some distance before it sputtered out.