Avi2112
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Chapter 164
🕑 Added 2024-12-21 01:02:58 +0000 UTC“It’s over!” Blade declares, his voice steady as he looks down at the severed head with grim satisfaction.
But his confidence is short-lived.
In the next moment, both Deacon’s head and his body dissolve into a swirling dark mist, dissipating into the air.
Blade’s scowl deepens. “Damn it,” he mutters.
I rush to the ground where the Black Mist has scattered, hovering just above it using my Personal Anti-Force. "Get back!" I shout to the others, my voice sharp and commanding. Closing my eyes, I summon a powerful Psionic Forcefield, shaping it into a massive sphere with me at the center.
Every tendril of Black Mist is now trapped within its bounds.
The mist begins to coalesce, moving faster and denser, and I focus my thoughts on one thing: fire. Sacred White Fire.
Instead of letting it burst out immediately, I ignite it within my core, allowing the flames to build and grow. When the fire reaches its peak, I release it with a booming yell:
"Deacon you will come to know why my name is Apex!"
"Omnidirectional Holy Flames!!"
A wave of white Holy Flames erupts from my body in all directions, filling the sphere. The flames rush through the trapped mist, burning it away.
"AAARGGHHH!" Deacon's agonized screams echo within the barrier, but I don’t falter. The wave impacts my forcefield, straining its structure, but I hold it firm.
The Black Mist accelerates, coalescing into Deacon Frost’s form with unnatural speed. His body reforms almost instantly, and he glares at mw, his face twisted in pain and fury.
“You insignificant worm of a lower species! You are going to die!” he snarls.
But I ignore him, my focus unbroken. This time, I imagine something more intense: fire. Pure Blue Fire.
As before, I let the fire ignite and build within me, then release it with a commanding cry:
"Omnidirectional Phoenix Flames!"
A Wave of Blue Fire erupts from me, expanding outwards with incredible speed. The flames slam into Deacon, searing his skin and burning through his unnatural flesh.
"UGHHH! It burns!" he howls as the upper layers of his body are charred and stripped away by the searing blue heat.
Deacon dissolves back into his black mist form, speeding towards me in desperation. But before he can reach, I unleash another wave of Holy Flames, then follow it with another pulse of Phoenix Flames.
Wave after wave, I alternate between the two, the pulses growing faster and faster. Each successive burst shortens the interval, the surrounding temperature rising to unimaginable levels.
From the outside, the spherical forcefield looks like a massive Ball of White and Blue Fire, its heat radiating fiercely.
Even though my Psionic Shield managed to absorb the impact of each wave, it couldn’t contain the intense heat radiating outwards. The surrounding temperature continued to soar, forcing Blade, Elsa, and Sable to retreat further, shielding themselves from the blistering heat.
Inside the barrier, the temperature is enough to liquefy metal. I withstand it using my Phoenix Physiology, channeling my body’s innate resistance to such extreme conditions.
Deacon’s screams weaken with every passing second. At first, he attempts to attack me, realizing I am the source of his torment, but the rapid pulses force him to divert all his energy into regeneration. Soon, even that becomes futile.
Luck, it seems, was not on his side. The relentless Holy Fire Magic eventually incinerates the last traces of the Black Mist, preventing him from reforming. Now, the combined power of the White and Blue Flames consume his crimson blood, evaporating it bit by bit, leaving no chance for recovery.
"ARGHH! This... this can’t be happening! I was supposed to be Unstoppable! UGHH! I was so close! … It was going to be my Er—"
His final words are cut off as his body disintegrates completely, reduced to nothing but droplets of blood.
The scientist in me hesitates for a brief moment, tempted to collect a sample of the blood for research. But I know better—villains like this always find a way back if given even the smallest chance.
Resolving to finish the job, I continue pulsing the flames, refusing to stop until not even a single molecule of Deacon Frost remains.
Finally, I allow the flames to die out, but I maintain the forcefield. I know releasing the flames unchecked could wreak havoc. Calling upon my Personal Anti-Magic, I envelop myself in its black aura and move through the fiery sphere.
As the black aura touches the flames—both white and blue—they sizzle and extinguish instantly. I knew that it should work, as this is a fire of magical nature so Anti-Magic should put it out. Methodically, I traverse the entire area, snuffing out every remaining ember.
When the last flame has been extinguished, the inside of the sphere is left filled with dense, scalding steam. I create a small opening at the top of the barrier, allowing the steam to escape harmlessly into the sky. Once the heat has dissipated, I deactivate the forcefield entirely.
Landing on the scorched ground, I am immediately approached by Blade. "Is it done?" he asks stoically.
Elsa and Sable flank me from both sides. "Are you alright?" Sable asks, concern in her voice.
"How are your clothes still intact?" Elsa interjects, earning an odd look from Sable.
I exhale heavily. "Yes, it’s over. Deacon Frost is gone for good. And yes, I am fine, just exhausted. As for my clothes… no comment." I smirk, giving Elsa a playful wink.
"Hey, I was genuinely curious!" she protests, pouting.
"Good," Blade says with a firm nod, tossing my silver sword back towards me.
"Keep it," I reply with a smirk, using Psychokinesis to send it back his way. "I can always make another."
"Alright," Blade says, catching the sword with ease. His gaze shifts toward the raven-haired girl, his expression hardening. "Want me to take care of that one?"
"No," I reply with a sigh, glancing at her briefly. "I have still got some questions for her."
Blade’s jaw tightens before he speaks again. "And about my mother… Did you really ‘free’ her from his control, or is she… dead?" His tone is stoic, but the tension in his brow betrays his concern.
"No she is definitely alive … Well, as alive as a vampire can be. And yes, I freed her. But it is best if you stay away for a little while—until her treatment is complete." I say seriously, as I don't want her to beg for my cock in front of Blade.
"Treatment?" Blade’s eyes narrow in confusion.
"She was turned into a thrall by Deacon," I explain. "Reversing that takes time. Once it is done, she will revert to… a normal vampire." I say with a weird look.
Blade’s fists clench at his sides. "That son of a bitch! I wish I could kill him again!"
"Thankfully, the Bloodstones have a way to treat her," I say, motioning towards Elsa, who is off to the side, playing with the small Phoenix perched on Sable’s shoulder.
Blade takes a deep breath, visibly calming himself, before placing a firm hand on my shoulder. "Thank you. I owe you one," he says, his tone sincere.
"Uh, no need to mention it," I reply, feeling a bit awkward. A part of me is tempted to quip about how his mother has already thanked me—repeatedly— but I wisely hold my tongue.
I also share with him what happened to Whistler, explaining his final wish to be cremated to prevent turning, and how I had placed his ashes in a porcelain jar back at the factory for Blade to retrieve. Blade listens silently, nodding once when I finish.
The conversation turns slightly awkward when I ask for his number to coordinate returning his mother after her treatment. Blade doesn’t have his phone on him but memorises my number instead. I make a mental note of his in return, with D.A.I.S.Y. as backup.
"Then I guess this is goodbye," Blade says, turning to leave. He raises a hand in a casual wave, his silhouette fading into the shadows of the ruins. "Let’s meet again… Apex."
I watch him go, tempted to offer him a portal back to the city but deciding against it. No point in ruining his cool exit. With a small smile, I murmur, "Goodbye… Blade."
"Luke, the connection to the central server is back online," D.A.I.S.Y.’s lively voice chimes in my ear. I glance skyward, smiling as the earlier thunderstorm has dissipated, revealing a clear night sky dotted with stars and a brilliant moon.
I made a mental note to devise a solution for bypassing magical interference in the future.
“I have some bad news to share with you, Luke…” D.A.I.S.Y.’s tone shifts to a serious, somber note.
After hearing the news I take a deep breath, “Understood. I will tie up the loose ends here and head back to New York as soon as I can.” My brows furrow in worry.
“Luke, the Phoenix vanished!” Sable’s worried voice breaks through my thoughts.
“It was just a construct of my magic, Sable,” I say with a chuckle. “It could only last for a limited time.”
“Even able to create magical constructs at your age… Child, you must be a prodigy in Magic,” came an aged voice filled with curiosity and admiration.
“Oh, I forgot to tell you,” Sable interjects, holding up her silver blade. “After I found the second part of the sword, it attached itself to my hilt. Now it is something like a short sword—and everyone can hear Old Man Silver now!” She grins.
"Oh, greetings Old Man Silver!" I nod to the … sword?
“Stop calling me Old Man Silver! I have a name, you know,” the aged voice retorts with an exasperated sigh.
“Oh? What is it then, Old Man?” Elsa teases as she walks up, tucking her guitar case filled with guns onto her back.
“When I was alive, my name was Van Helsing,” the voice replies humbly.
“Oh, isn’t Van Helsing a famous vampire hunter family?” Elsa exclaims, her eyes lighting up.
“Really?” Sable asks, intrigued.
“Yeah! If Blade were here, he would definitely know all about them,” Elsa says confidently.
“It is good to hear that my descendants have continued my fight,” Van Helsing says, pride evident in his tone.
“Yeah, I think I met someone from your family earlier this year… Rachel, I think. Rachel Van Helsing,” Elsa recalls.
“Maybe we can meet your descendants someday, Old Man,” Sable adds with a warm smile.
“That would be... nice,” Van Helsing says wistfully, before shifting his attention to me. “And you, child. You possess immense magical potential for someone so young. Would you like to learn Silver Magic from me?”
“Sorry, Old Man,” I reply with a wry smile. “If you were a hot woman, maybe I would consider it,” I add with a chuckle, knowing full well I could 'get' the magic directly from Sable without spending time learning it.
Van Helsing coughs in surprise, while Sable rolls her eyes. Elsa, however, narrows her eyes at me, unimpressed. Realizing I have stirred the pot, I make a hasty retreat towards the female vampire sitting on a stone some distance away, her blank stare fixed on the ground.
“Our last talk was interrupted,” I say, standing in front of her. “Let’s try again. What’s your name?” I ask, looking straight in her dark eyes.
“My name is Nyssa,” she replies softly. “Nyssa Damaskinos, the last and only member of the Damaskinos clan,” she adds with a deep sigh.
“Alright, Nyssa. I have some questions, and I would appreciate it if you answered truthfully,” I say in a serious tone.
To my surprise, Nyssa agrees without hesitation. Based on what Sable and Elsa had told me, I had expected her to have the typical elitist mentality of vampires. Instead, she is remarkably docile, answering every question with surprising honesty.
I am horrified to learn that over a hundred humans were sacrificed in the ritual, along with Purebloods and even Ancient Vampires. The sheer scale of the sacrifice explains Deacon Frost’s immense power. Yet, the weight of the casualties doesn’t stop there—countless newly turned vampires and thralls add to the staggering toll. The magnitude of the sin is overwhelming.
Though I can do nothing for the dead now, the memory of this atrocity will linger in my mind, a haunting reminder of what has transpired.
As Nyssa shares her perspective, pieces of the puzzle start falling into place. She insists there was no book like the Necronomicon in their treasury, which raises the question of how Deacon found it there. The coincidence of him encountering a mystic expert like the Voodoo Queen, who could decipher and use the text, seems far too convenient.
Then there is the cryptic warning Racquel gave Nyssa about Deacon 'paying the price.' It all points to Deacon being a pawn in a larger scheme—an experiment orchestrated by the group Racquel and Marie Laveau were associated with.
Their intentions were clearly far from noble. Now that I have disrupted their carefully laid plans, it is likely their attention will turn towards me and my group.
“So, what are you going to do now?” I ask softly, feeling some sympathy for the girl who has lost everything in a single night.
“I… think I will stay here until the sun rises,” she replies, her voice trembling. “Let the Damaskinos name be buried in this ruin with me.”
“That is stupid,” I say with a smirk. “Why don’t you join my group instead?”
“Your group?” Nyssa asks, her dark eyes meeting mine.
“Yes,” I say with a confident grin. “Let’s call it… the Apex Legion.”
***
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Btw, Today is My B'Day!! :)
Comments
Avirat Dulera
Thank you so very much 😊😊😊
Orvious
Happy birthday and thanks for the chapter. So the Apex Legion is the first of his hero teams. I approve!
