Настучать в бубен / Hit the tambourine: Глава 20-10

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Camrad_RIP 10.04.25 в 14:31

Stepan reacted in time as his opponent's reserve grew and his aura seemed to open even wider, leaking power in huge volumes. Demonic pumping straight from Inferno. An old problem when fighting demons. They, if aided by their brethren, could be far more problematic than a mere spherical demon in a vacuum. Judging by the way this bastard has been drastically drugged, saving resources is out of the question. It's a perverse parody of divine assistance. The scarlet seal on the chest of the naked winged asshole with snow-white skin grows and covers his whole body in a fraction of an instant, becoming not just a pattern, but already an armour. And he immediately attacked, striking at a speed comparable to that of a shaman accelerated by the indwelling.

Camrad_RIP 23.04.25 в 09:47

He would have laid down there. But, as in the training not so long ago, the shaman, who had updated the Goat's cheater summon, surrendered to the will of other people's instincts, allowing the spirit to lead the battle, while he recoiled into the background. The entity, animal, and simple, not able to be surprised, and therefore used to perceiving the world in a completely different way, was not used to falling into a stupor. It accepted the enemy's newly increased speed stoically, as a fait accompli, without wasting time on adapting and searching for a solution. Covered in a blanket of pinkish energy, like a pile of ghostly bubbles from bath foam, the enemy's limb struck with the power of an industrial press, no less. And yes, the blow was not with a hand, but very much with a foot, and with a U-turn, as if this turd had decided to fancy himself a Chuck Norris impersonator. Not fast, no, almost instantaneous! And still the Goat reacted, taking the blow on his crossed forearms and just flying away like a skittle, beautifully slamming his whole body into the wall of the house, which was already shrivelled after a lightning bolt from one of the spirits had struck it, and after the contact simply folded like a cardboard. Though it didn't look like much, it was a clever move, both to break the distance and to test his toughness and resilience, and he didn't have to worry about being vulnerable in the air, because the Goat was a master of short blink-and-jump.

Camrad_RIP 23.04.25 в 09:51

He-they got up instantly, stretching with a crunch and tearing off the remnants of his spell-damaged clothes and battle-scarred cloak, leaving only his trousers and his belt, on which dangled a pair of the last of his puppet-catchers, a couple of small sacks with prepared cursed earth, and a few clay figurines. On the same belt, he hangs the mask that has fallen off his face, no longer able to stay on his distorted face, simply because his horns won't let him wear it. The pause lasts for a few seconds, while the winged man, who is floating from the force that has come upon him, comes to his senses, and the intangible opponent, who has dived into the spheres, stealthily, as it seems to him, approaches the shaman-not-shaman from below. Exactly it seems, because the Earthman's sensor groups are still active, including those that monitor the battle not close but far away, as far as it is generally applicable in the description of spheres. So to speak, they are sitting in ambush, having cameras with an awesome zoom, if we speak in human terms. They noticed this sneaky and spotted it, at the same time explaining why the Winged One is stalling so much time. He was waiting for a combined attack, waiting for Thu'Zi'Kh, who was still holding on. And the bastard couldn't help but try to poke and prod, to get in his head, to confuse and throw him off balance, otherwise he wouldn't be a demon.

Camrad_RIP 23.04.25 в 09:56

"M-m-m, what a cute little animal, what a beautiful goat!" The laughter and mockery in his speech tries to enter the ears and, if not to seize control, then to shake up the psyche a little more, to force it to answer as he would like. "Will you bleat, my dear, will you bleat for me? Who's a good goat, eh? Who's a good goat?"

Camrad_RIP 23.04.25 в 10:04

The creature never seemed to realize how absurdly high the spirit's resistance was. Especially when combined with the shaman's existing knowledge and properties. It didn't realize that it would be able to shave off such submissions without even concentrating. And the shaman realized that the demon from the pumping up of forces clearly began to skid and began to be stupid, to make mistakes, as if falling under his own vice ... or not his own, but that of the one who gives him this power, having first let it pass through itself? Power invested and seconds spent, and all for what? To convey through the sound of words a compulsion that would make Stepan admit out loud that yes, he was a “goat”? It was especially ironic when coupled with the fact that he had indeed become partly a goat, but the demon could hardly realize it. And yet Stepan answered, even if not in the way the creature wanted, obeying the naivete that came from his fatigue, the pressure on his mind, and just the desire to stretch time. Again, it was impossible not to make a reference to the classics, if the opportunity presented itself, even if no one would understand that reference.

Camrad_RIP 23.04.25 в 13:35

The weave of the boon he had been preparing all this time was completed, applying it to himself and Goat, activating the “blessing of unity with the subtle world”. Before taking the four maximum levels of knowledge in the new talent branch that he had been working so hard to master, such a load would kill or cripple him. Yes, a blessing could indeed strengthen a spirit, but if it strengthened a spirit planted in the body, the effect was even stronger. And here the spirit itself played a role, its original power. Goat was, though small in origin, huge in strength. He was a higher spirit, closer to the top of his rank. So Stepan had to listen to the Winged One's taunts, had to ignore Thu'Zi'Kh's increasing surrender, and silently rejoiced that at least Sylvia was able to cope with her opponent, cutting off a few more bloody tentacles in front of the astonished guard and pushing away a fellow who was holding a decent cleaver in his trembling hands, without taking it out of its sheath and holding on to the blade instead of the hilt. But the shaman had time, managed, finished, weaved two blessings at once, covering both the spirit and himself, restoring the reserve with the token, and answering the creature's request.

Camrad_RIP 23.04.25 в 13:41

"Ja!" He smiled as if he'd been given the entire supply of souls from half of Inferno, apparently thinking for a moment that he'd sold the shaman, and Stepan continued for himself, stretching out the phrase in a vomitous and vile tone. "Ja! Ja, Shub-Niggurra-a-a-a-at!"

Camrad_RIP 23.04.25 в 10:03

About half a moment later, before he went on the attack, the Earthman promised himself not to joke like that again, and to be careful about mentioning the crazy fictions of the mad Arabs as if they were really fictions. For fuck it! No, he felt no response to his words, no one and nothing paid any attention to his eulogy, Little White Goat ignored them too, anticipating a quick slaughter. What frightened the shaman was the way the demon reacted to his words, a superior and deadly demon, probably ancient and having seen a lot of shit that would make a dozen Stepans go crazy. Because the demon, hearing this phrase and seeing how strictly after it Stepan's aura, strengthened by an unnoticeable blessing, pulsed, and the strength in it increased as if it was being pumped from somewhere, just like his own.... The demon shuddered, stepped back, and, bitch, Stepan was willing to bet, freaked the hell out.

Camrad_RIP 23.04.25 в 13:45

The blessing came to the finish line and began to literally flood the aura with concentrated power, for every unit of his own reserve spent, as if adding another three and a half units of pure and stabilized to harmless ether. Time, already quite malleable to his manipulations, seemed to slow down even more, but without slowing down, Stepan began to perceive even more of everything per unit of time. And first of all, he silently and without any special effects shifted in space, moving five meters to the left. At the place where he had been recently, the fabric of reality unfolded, and blue tentacles of weightless smoke tried to embrace the place where he had been a moment earlier. But only two sacks of earth, a rag doll sprinkled with glittering and not quite material blood, and a clay figurine of deception were embraced.

Camrad_RIP 23.04.25 в 13:47

He had pumped a lot of reserve into the contact curse, reinforcing it with raw ether, since the blessing was working anyway. The impact was a chaotic distortion of ether flows with an entropy-static message. Roughly speaking, everything within a radius of one and a half meters simultaneously froze and rotted, and this applied to subtle bodies too. The demon's essence was one entire subtle body, and if the creature had been weaker, it would have ended up there, when it tried to feel Stepan through his blood and received through the same blood a counter curse that did not allow it to break the distance in time, to block the cursed ground or simply to throw off the extra tentacles like a lizard's tail. But the creature was strong and experienced, so it survived both attacks and wasn't even badly hurt, only that it lost its fighting spirit. Stepan helped it to lose even what it hadn't lost, appearing beside it again faster than thought, coming out of the jump almost exactly at the same coordinates, throwing the last of the rag dolls and repurposed clay dupes into the bubbling cloud, which became carriers of new curses, and into which the shaman poured the reserve and blessed ether without any economy.

Camrad_RIP 23.04.25 в 13:55

It didn't kill the creature. Though the new wounds were serious. At least a quarter of the mass of that smoke was blown away, and the remains dived into the spirit world, clashing sharply with the spirits that had come calling. Turquoise and Aquamarine were also there, actively fighting the creature that had fallen into their native habitat. Not the most convenient opponent, but they knew what to do with such a thing. The most important role, however, was played by a specialized elder, the one the shaman had never called to fight the vile sleeping thing in the ruins of a long-dead and cursed village. Now this spirit had been called in to torment an even more fearsome shit, and the spirit was doing a good job of demonstrating what the fuck he was asking so dearly for his services. Floating in etheric weightlessness, the statue of the masked maiden promptly blocked the creature into several separate barriers, simultaneously stabilizing and short-circuiting a chunk of the spirit world, literally turning it into a pocket trap before his eyes. Harmless to its allies and a deadly trap for its only guest, the entity was not bad at countering spirits, and it had come here with the idea of countering the shaman, but it still had a hard time, especially when wounded.

Camrad_RIP 24.04.25 в 17:50

The misty, shapeless host of Inferno's foulness was still just tearing through the first barriers of his cage, trying to reach the statue or at least dislodge some of the lesser spirits tormenting him. The mocking shaman in the bundle with Goatblade blinked, appearing beside the Winged One, slightly to the side, almost behind him. He'd been holding back in his training fight with the vampiresses, trying not to hurt them, avoiding touching them with his nails, horns, and hooves, because one touch with them could mutilate their aura. Stepan did not spare the bastard demon. He struck with his hoof directly into the centre of the mass of the bastard, which had time to react. Bosted by the direct and intensive support of his superiors, the freak was only a little slower than the shaman in his transformed form, and also very resistant and strong. He put up a block with a ghostly feather-laden wing, each feather being, at his will, either a defensive barrier or an attacking demonic enchantment. Half of those feathers were immediately gone, another third were simply knocked out, causing them to scatter in random directions like unstable fireworks or secondary detonating ammunition, and the wing itself sagged, ruptured, and added more to the hand he had set up.

Camrad_RIP 25.04.25 в 14:41

Had the creature been more material, the shaman would have heard the ringing crunch of bone, but as it was, only an unnatural twist of the elbow before sending the bastard flying. Blinking again, the shaman did not move his feet, nor spare the reserve, which, with such support by blessing, was more quickly spent on the boon itself than on combat movement. The young man appeared on the course of the creature's flight, immediately disappearing again and missing a blast of bubbling power, appearing on the opposite side, almost getting hit in the face with a blade woven of scarlet flame, but leaving again in a teleport. The creature immediately turned in the air, spreading its wings and striking at the place from which the shaman reappeared, strictly behind the demon's back. But Stepan left from there even before the enemy turned around and covered the entire space in a three-metre radius with an extremely nasty barrier. He didn't even leave, he practically didn't appear, only hinted about his stay there, and immediately disappeared.

Camrad_RIP 25.04.25 в 14:43

The bewildered Winged One flies up sharply, realising too late that he has been tricked. Stepan appeared out of nowhere, not at all near him. The snow-white goat-man, covered with long and shaggy ghostly hair and a face as ugly as the tax rate of recent years, appeared next to a long lady who was finishing weaving another infernal enchantment. This kind of crap should have restrained the still not badly resisting dog demoneater and, if not to kill at last, then to a greater extent to limit the manoeuvre. The long macaroni was extremely agile; it was able to get out of standard traps, get through barriers, or simply bypass them, and reached out, reached out with its huge mouth to the flesh of the Inferno inhabitants, which was so sweet for it. The hoof struck again, now under its knee, nearly tearing off its legs and causing the spells to shower down in small sparks, not harmless if they had not hit someone with the shaman's current resistance index. The creature screamed in pain and rage, the chameleon colouring on its body losing its smooth hypnotic quality to some epileptic's dream, and the demon tried to stab an infernal beam at the goat.

Camrad_RIP 25.04.25 в 14:46

The Goat mewled again, contemptuous and vicious, unnatural to the point of nausea, as if the ominous valley embodied in sound form, delivering several blows, sharp not claws but nails, thick and ragged, leaving a multitude of scratches and literally fresh the creature alive, stripping the multi-coloured hide, seeking to throw off the hands and tear the protective barriers. The demon made them with enviable tenacity, seeking to push back and discard the shaman and the entity planted within him. A jerk, as if hooked into flesh, another jerk, to break the long arm, almost tearing it from the shoulder and pull the creature to its knees. Even on its knees, it's taller than the shaman in its form by almost a head, and then its face is right in front of the Earthman's face, exhaling some colourless but not harmless smoke. Blinking, he avoids the spit and gets behind the creature, which tries to push itself in the back with telekinesis and break the distance, but he prevents it, dispels its push, striking with a fist in the back of the head, partly demolishing a piece of the skull, partly bending it backwards. Alas, it's not fatal to the demon, though the energy there is mangled pretty badly too.

Camrad_RIP 25.04.25 в 15:51

Blink again. A long and thin thread arrow, fired by a Winged One who has taken off, passes through him, trying not to let himself be deprived of his ally's support. The huge bony gorilla is still occupied by the spaghetti dog. The Bloody Joker is unable to overpower the artefact-armed Sylvia, even after depriving her of almost all of her blood control at the cost of even more of her stored souls. The Intangible desperately tries to escape from the spirit world while it is literally tormented by a coordinated pack of intangible predators. Not without casualties on their part, for he destroyed several small ones and one strong one, and force-fed another strong one some of his smoke, and he took control and tried to attack the statue. He failed, but he distracted the senior spirit and thus won some freedom, pushing the boundaries of his cage a little further and destabilising the trap pocket. In the meantime, the thread arrow hit the battered, painted demoness, but it didn't hurt her, it soaked into her, spurring her regeneration, which made her leg twisted the other way, her shoulder joint no longer threaten to fall off on the next move, and even her skull less flattened.

Camrad_RIP 25.04.25 в 16:02

Blink-teleport. The shaman was in the air, right above the winged man, tapping him on the top of the head with his hoof and breaking his caste. The barrier bursts like a soap balloon. The second, not a full screen, but more like a shield, also cracked, but like glass. Demons crossed arms take the main impulse, spreading it all over his body, absorbing the damage by pumping up the forces from Inferno, and the demon himself flies down faster than a stone, accelerating his fall and in the fall hitting with a volley of feathers from his wings, almost all of them remaining. It lured him out, reaches Stepan, deliberately set up and now closing the trap, slamming the net down - the feathers don't attack, they spread out in a wide sphere, blocking teleports and movements, blocking them even harder than they were already blocked. Slowing, shackling, clouding, freezing...

Camrad_RIP 25.04.25 в 16:36

With a disdainful bleat, Goat slipped between-here-and-there, surfacing back above the demon again, not even disturbed by its blocking. The movement of this entity, a Higher Entity, operated on very unusual principles, and the standard methods of blocking were not that they didn't help at all, but had much less weight. Further, resistance and personal power, crazy strength and weight of the spiritual body of the entity, as well as strengthening of all of the above by the witchcraft goodness, worked. Under such doping, the Goat could jump for a long, long time, could gallop. The hoof struck again, but now not pushing, but prodding, forcing him to spin in a free and uncontrolled fall, only to be grabbed by his wrist a moment later and almost impaled on his horns. The Winged One would have been finished, but a burst of force from the portal, where the still shrieking Laghan took on a new note of agony, allowed him to overcome the spirit's grip for a moment and then almost manage to push it away, tearing the wool covering his body a little, even burning it in places. The horns didn't do any damage, simply because the creature twisted around and ripped out its arm, along with a piece of the appropriate energy and part of the flesh-enhancing souls, leaving it in Stepan's grip.

Camrad_RIP 25.04.25 в 16:44

The shaman clenched his fist, grinding the bursting crap to a pulp and with a stream of Goat's negative power breaking the attempt to curse himself through the mess, throwing the resulting bomb at the demon. This was where he was surprised and even a little panicked. Undermining some of his power by literally sacrificing a permanent chunk of his self, he was very well invested in the attack and made sure to stick it to his opponent's body and aura. He certainly wasn't expecting that the lump of flesh and fur stuck to it could be ripped off the shaman's body and fly straight into his face. At the last moment, he managed to deactivate his creation, sending part of the blow through the channel to Inferno, but the colourless and at the same time alluringly ghastly flames still burned him, leaving massive burns on his body, and burning his wings completely, leaving only parts of the bone skeleton. And these were not easy wounds either, for forever, or at least for a long time!

Camrad_RIP 25.04.25 в 16:56

The shaman was about to rush towards it, but was immediately displaced from reality when a wide and very tricky beam struck from the breach, incredibly bright, but with a colour that made you forget that the colour existed the moment you saw it. And since you forgot the colour, you can't see the attack, so there you go! The shaman bleat again, obviously something profane, though he couldn't say what he meant by it, because the colour was unreal to human or mortal consciousness, even with a divided body. However, where the Goat had not helped, the situation was saved by numerous observers, who were no longer hiding in the sky, watching what was happening on the ground, and therefore had warned him in advance. The beam went somewhere in the sky, perhaps to set fire to the asses of angels, if they were within a radius of at least eight or nine kilometres, and the portal again faded and became even more unstable. Trying to overcome the right of ashes had not gone in vain. The stronger the pressure on this thing of the demonic profanity, the stronger the resistance of the world becomes. If it is removed, then the forces do not affect the profanity and demonic energy. Every single smaller demon, called only to support the rupture, has already given itself to this rupture without a trace, but this only slightly slowed its degradation.

Camrad_RIP 25.04.25 в 17:03

The shaman tried to get out of the blink next to the rapidly regenerating and seemingly soul-crediting Winged One, but changed his mind at the last moment, fooling both himself and the creatures following him. He found himself back near the place of his fusion with the Goat, where a Formless fleeing from the world of the spheres had almost made its way out into reality, its smoky tentacles outstretched into reality. With blows of hooves, horns, and fists, he crushed those clumps of smoke into smaller lumps in a split second, simultaneously encouraging the spirits in the spheres to devour the creature more vigorously, and shifted again. The almost fully recovered Winged One successfully struck the spot where the Earthling had recently stood, again strengthening and slightly patching up the smoky one, only that one had already been forced back into a hopeless fight with Stepan's entire retinue of spirit battles. The Earthman doesn't look to see what's wrong with Smoky, he reappears next to the long demoness who has not yet regained consciousness, tearing off her already damaged arm, running his fingernails over the skin, and freshly skinning her alive, finally ruining the hypnotic effect of that skin. The infernal slime that replaces the demons' blood evaporates from his fur without even being absorbed, burned away with particles of goat fur, but that fur also regenerates, though slower than the demons' pseudo-flesh, and the demons inflicted fewer wounds on him. The scorch marks he had received from the contact with the Winged One were almost healed in the past ten seconds.

Camrad_RIP 25.04.25 в 17:09

He again knocks the creature to the ground. The watching spirits see the winged leader describe a long parabola and dash downward, eager to help the smoky one escape as a more promising and useful ally. A desperate point-blank attack sweeps in close as the shaman blinks again, sending a lump of bloody stuff mixed with particles of the demoness' flesh through where it will reappear a moment later. The creature doesn't have time to attack again. The first blow to the head demolishes the rest of the skull, the second punctures the sternum, almost reaching the core of the essence, almost tearing the grape cluster of souls captured by the demon. But instead of finishing the almost ready creature, Stepan, spouting mental swearing in a thousand four hundred and eighty-eight floors of intolerance to representatives of infernal kind, again shifts into two quick teleports of seventy meters each, finding himself next to another battle.

Camrad_RIP 25.04.25 в 19:13

Thu'Zi'Kh fought quite competently and was quite successful against the bone gorilla, even though he was exhausted and wounded, although the fight was funny. One couldn't break through the defense of the other, and the other had no way to catch the first and strike it properly. The spirit shimmered around the creature, pressed on it with the presence of pure hunger and thirst to quench hunger, now and then tried to lean closer and cover it with a layer of its spiritual power, to liquefy the armor of bones, to weaken the infernal presence, to suppress the aura and clog the nodes with malicious plugs. And the huge demon tried to grab the spirit and not let it go, to take advantage of its advantage in armor and survivability, to tear the annoying pasta into pieces and trample these pieces into the broken paving stones. And so it was, when the demon's maneuver forced him to collapse the wall of some barracks, he was literally like an elephant in a china shop. Or a fox in a henhouse. There were a lot of people in the barracks, mostly kids, who had been busy sorting through some herbs and shit.

Camrad_RIP 25.04.25 в 19:18

It meant nothing to the spirit. He had his own goal, and the concept of the order “protect the youngsters so that the demon does not let their blood and auras for feeding or impregnate them with brain-dead concentrations of vice” would not be understood, and the demon was already set up for a quick massacre. The shaman managed, as if Christobal, dammit, Hosevich, appearing right in front of the demon, with his aura suppressing the nauseating and suffocating grip of vice, driving away this vice from the brains and souls of children and teenagers, before the battle began sorting seeds and shoots.... of the local analogs of poppy, cannabis, hashish and coca? Well, yes, who else to invite to harmful production, but those who are not pitied, such a beautiful world.

Camrad_RIP 25.04.25 в 19:23

The impact of the massive carcass of Stepan, who for a moment had been surprised to find himself in a clandestine drug lab while saving the children, dislodged him and dragged him across a floor covered with debris, whispers, and dust from construction putty, which had clear hoofprints. He was partially turned around, and almost jammed his horned, furry, and yet warped face into a vaguely familiar and deathly pale face. His consciousness, which had been dispersed and perceived the world in a surprisingly complex way, recognized at once the victim of a long-standing curse, whom he had almost cured but not cured one not too cheerful evening that had turned into night, when he had been struck with humanity and thirst for healing practice. The world, though it seemed frozen, but it only seemed so, and Stepan jumped up and right in a jump, he jerked both hooves into the center of the gorilla's chest, right into the bone face sunk in that chest. It crunched, cracked, groaned, and howled as blue and pink slurry flowed from under the cracked bone armor, and the evil carcass, which had lost all its intentions, took a hasty and a little wobbly step back.

Camrad_RIP 25.04.25 в 19:24

"You again!" The shaman barked, pointing a finger with a thick, flat nail on the end into the face of the pupil-dilated youth, who was frantically clutching a shiv in her fingers.

Camrad_RIP 26.04.25 в 18:08

He would have said something else, but there was no time. He'd only put that phrase in because he needed at least a second's respite after two very long teleport jumps before his ability to blink was restored. Still, this spirit property was, albeit uniquely exotic and cool, but it was meant for lots of short blinks, not long-range jerks. For manoeuvring combat, not stalking or shortening the distance. The girl, whose aura, by the way, was again unhealthy and slowly degenerating faster than the estimated time, rolled her eyes and collapsed unconscious. It was either a Vice or the aura of Goat, which could turn off a weak gifted person and make him a grey stammerer for life. Well, if he survived, he would make sure that his appearance did not leave the local children with bedwetting for life.

Camrad_RIP 26.04.25 в 18:13

A new step. Now it's quite short. Even shorter than a normal step, to catch up with the gorilla and give it two consecutive blows with his fists in the already cracked mask, and then turn on one leg and hit the other, with a hoof, right in accordance with the precepts of Chuck Norris. The hoof fell partially into the mask, under which there was hidden a mouth, or some other hole, of the kind that children are not allowed to see. There were teeth there, but they couldn't grab a leg and hoof and grab it to hell. They'd been knocked out along with the mask bone. If he'd had any supplies left, he'd have thrown a couple of сгкыув pouches in his mouth right away to keep the bastard busy, but he didn't have any. He accelerated and shoved the creature with his whole body, and then Thu'Zi'Kh, who had gathered his strength, wrapped his arms around the wounded creature and began to gnaw on one of its arms. The Earthman slid back into the passage, aiming to finish off the long demoness, but he realised he was too late.

Camrad_RIP 26.04.25 в 18:15

The Winged One had indeed managed to pull out and even patch up the battered Smoky. He was trying to help the Bloody, aiming at the still struggling Sylvia with his feather, the last of his remaining feathers, which had miraculously not burst after a hoof strike had knocked it off its wing. Well, it was Stepan who considered the blow apt in the long run, for there was no way to test it, no way to inflict it. The shaman emerged from the blink and whipped up his arm, the same arm that had recently grown back but was still more of a prosthetic enchantment than actual pseudo-flesh. The elbow of the arm sprayed straight out, and the backlash and attempted embrace of the smoky one with his smoke was met with nothing but emptiness. Again a step, again leaving and so five times, working in a pair of creatures successfully crowded the shaman, having understood the tactics of his attacks and defences, and Goat leading his movements showed amazing for the beast cunning, but still animal predictability. He showed another seven seconds and no less than two dozen blinks before abruptly breaking the pattern, showing the demons who had relaxed that they were the stupid and primitive creatures, and he, bitch, was an intellectual and a personality!

Camrad_RIP 26.04.25 в 18:18

In an instant, instead of just an attack with fists, which should have been met with an attack in response, and then the escape of blinking Stepan, a primitive, but powerful spell of witchcraft type flew towards the Winged One. Slowing down, a suggestive drizzle on reflexes, an attempt to fuck the demon in the brains and, characteristically, partially successful, for the Winged One was so dazed that he actually slowed down. Smoky was struck with a deadly nail in the coffin by the locking of the paths, which he methodically and even mockingly countered with a very familiar defence, almost the same as the one that Laghan was using. The weak and not particularly sophisticated locking burst and fell apart at the seams, unable to find a point of application, as if the creature's aura had become too liquefied and therefore invulnerable to such a pinpoint attack, for it needed a body frame in which to lock the paths. The sneer from the image-expression of the incorporeal creature would quickly disappear if it had time to react. Beneath the layer of flamboyant and threatening witchcraft lurked a very well-disguised banishment from reality.

Camrad_RIP 26.04.25 в 18:21

The shaman managed with this banishment to hit not just a shapeless body, but the very centre of the demon, its cluster of souls, for which the creature was dragged into the spheres. Not deep, Stepan's hook was not set up for such a thing, no, only beyond the very boundary of reality, to the topmost layers of the high spheres. There, Aquamarine, Turquoise, and the immovable statue, supported by the rest of the evil spirits, were already waiting, having renewed their forces, restored the order of battle, and learnt from the previous experience. The demon rushed into battle with the desperation of a doomed man, trying not only to break through the cage-lacuna that had closed around him again and was much stronger than the last time, but also to try to become possessed by one of the spirits. But it was clear to him, Stepan, and even the spirits themselves, that the creature would not escape from this hospitable place a second time.

Camrad_RIP 26.04.25 в 18:26

The snarling and shrieking creature-leader lunged forward no worse than Goat himself had a little earlier, losing control and howling in frenzy, in pure pain, in uninterrupted pleasure. Howling, feeling his victory drain away as the misbehaving shaman, showing quite the opposite of what the creatures had prepared for before the encounter, delivers one blow after another. Laghan's howl echoes him as a wave of power passes through the portal again, temporarily making the creature even faster than the Goat and, though not resilient, so survivable that for a couple more moments, there is no fear of hooves or horns. The Right of Ashes, having received such resistance, became even stronger, and the spent reagent of the highest level of quality possible gave such a plus to the power that the portal-break, despite all attempts to keep it, became even more faded and trembled. And it was not yet being attacked directly, not yet being hit by temples or city mages, because the time had barely been three minutes, even less. Another flicker of the portal, and out of the breach in the shape of the body of one unlucky demoness, who once again became a pawn of her own Mistress, the hand of the one who was the basis of the portal, distorted and as if melted like candle wax, burst out. She pulled out and clutched at the edge of the breach, not letting go, which began to undermine the stability of the breach even more.

Camrad_RIP 26.04.25 в 18:28

The Shaman-Goat again meked something profane, disappearing and escaping from the enemy's blow, then from another blow, and another. About the sixth second of such dances came a message-image from the spirits in the world of spheres, as well as more detailed images-evidence from the spirits-observers. The Shapeless one jumped and ended up literally sandwiched between the barriers of the Senior Spirit. The shaman, by that time the seventh time only since Goat's summoning that he had restored his reserve with a Token, sent a clear and unambiguous command to check. To check everything and everyone, more importantly, to check each other. The demon demonstrated a very strong ability to possess exactly the spirits, this parasitic embedding in their nature, and the moment of his death, the young man did not like. Too small was the release of forces, as if burned and released were only part of a bunch of souls. He was right, and it took the spirits another four seconds to notice the attempt of one of the strong entities to get away without being seen, then to open the disguise and the entity itself, and then to finally kill the enemy.

Camrad_RIP 22.04.25 в 12:37

Along with his death, now final, came the liver-piercing groaning hiss of the Winged One, which tried to make a homing strike at the shaman, putting into him at least three dozen souls and a lot of its forces, and on top of it a part of flesh, above the elbow of the already damaged arm. Stepan jumped twice, three times, but the thing kept following him, homing in on him in the real world, in the spheres, and even in the place-state through which the blinking Goatman moved. On one manoeuvre, the shaman knocked a large cobblestone out of the paving stones with a hoof strike, dodged a few of the leader's more conventional blows, blinked a few more times, watering the stone with blood and creating a deception, the watering being done precisely between the blinks, so as not to be seen by his opponent. He had certainly expected such a trick, had seen it performed by the shaman, but had not expected the specifics of the execution.

Camrad_RIP 13.04.25 в 09:04

The shaman appeared next to a somewhat recovered demoness-stick, who was eating a smiling man in leather armor, who was a guard, a mercenary, a bandit, or something else. She greeted the shaman's appearance with a spit of scarlet and white slurry, which he habitually passed over and slapped her ass with the palm of his hand. It would have been intimate if the buttocks hadn't already been chewed up by his previous blow, and if the force of the slap hadn't given such momentum that Jaspera's fractures in the not-so-old training session would have seemed like minor bruises. The flying creature also helped itself to levitate, accelerating and breaking the distance, glad that the shaman had struck on the pushback and not too hard, instead of grabbing it hard and finishing it off. He ignored the retaliatory blow with some kind of net that was supposed to restrain his movements and a suggestion that tried to slow his perception, leaving again with a blink. What he couldn't ignore was the huge, glowing snake shaped like a king-sized dildo of the Bad Dragon level that had been chasing him all this time.

Camrad_RIP 22.04.25 в 12:48

Because now it was stalking the demoness already! The creature was quick to compare the two and ripped a piece of stone out of its own arse, throwing it aside and not even trying to hit Stepan through it, using the reverse bridge. It was a shame, though. He'd been preparing for it, putting up his witchcraft defences, and now he was ignoring it like this! The shit was that the bait marker, which had been specially sharpened for the creature, had been transferred to its strange pseudo-flesh. Yeah, it's a little thing. It took five seconds to remove it, but the creature didn't have five seconds, not even one, and so the hovering snake-like dildo-killer pierced the long lady through, literally lengthwise. Alas, due to the demonic nature of the victim, the spell did not kill her, though it crippled her badly, and the creature would be no match for Stepan or anyone else for days and months to come.

Camrad_RIP 13.04.25 в 09:06

The winged one didn't even slow down, having written off the long one beforehand, continuing to crowd Stepan with new and new attacks, becoming even faster and more accurate. He was being fed the maximum power, seemingly at the expense of reducing the remaining demons' power. The Earthman did not fight, having replenished his reserve with a token again, already feeling how bad he was feeling now and would definitely feel bad later, but not finding a way to compensate for the fatigue of auric nodes. Yes, there was still the ultimate enhancement, also a meta-skill that gave a wild bonus to characteristics, but he wouldn't have time to adjust the increased attributes to the still active blessing in conjunction with the sub-settlement. At least for a few moments, but he'll lose momentum, which is like death nowadays. And so, yes, so it would be a good option, even on the fee in the form of a slip of Her Milfness can be put the dick, he already fucked in the brains repeatedly.

Camrad_RIP 13.04.25 в 09:08

//"I need to finish." A lonely thought beats in the shaman's head, surrounded by emptiness and a collected readiness to kill and survive. "I need to finish quickly."

Camrad_RIP 10.04.25 в 14:32

He slid to the edge again to face the gorilla, who had already lost one paw and a piece of the other, and at the same time commanded the shattered Thu'Zi'Kh, who slid gladly and readily into the world of spheres. He slid out around the long, twitching, and trying to put up a defense. Unlike the gorilla, this creature was fragile and vulnerable to the spirit's direct attacks, and it had only been able to overpower him before in company with the Bone One, and only because of its magic, barriers, and powerful cascading blows. And now she has none of those, no strength to put up or maintain them. A moment, even less, and the jaws of the essence take another supreme demon, the second today, and the universe is covered with the last screech of the infernal creature. The spirit, who was able, thanks to the order, to overpower the aura of agrogeneration of the Bony One, which weakened and no longer constrained the spirit with the analogy of the trick “if you stop attacking me, you get a cunning curse”, which could eat even the defense of the weakened Elder, sends to the shaman an image of a hearty belch and another image-questioning if anything else is needed.

Camrad_RIP 22.04.25 в 12:58

It didn't take a particularly experienced shaman to realize - the spirit hoped he didn't really need to. He was exhausted and frazzled, despite the fact that the shaman had replenished his reserve with a token. The order is given, the order is understood, and the spirit dives into the world of spheres, taking a position of ambush rather than actual threat, replenishing its strength and serving as a reserve for emergencies. And the shaman is already striking at the gorilla, knocking chunks of bone and bloody shards out of the literally crumbling pile of viscous slime of the short-lived body, which simply can not hurt him. The creature is survivable and armored, but its armor is already broken in many places, and its survivability is no longer enough to survive. It lacks high-ranking attacking abilities, nor does it have enough speed and mobility to stand up to Stepan the Goat even a little bit.

Camrad_RIP 22.04.25 в 13:01

The shaman delivers eight punches with his fists, his horns jabbing at the area of the ribcage, nearly cutting the creature open like a fish, followed by a stinging hoof strike to the supporting leg, nearly causing the demon to fall. It all packed into a split second, while consciously sacrificing another pre-written-off comrade, the Winged One prepared something homicidal. And he would have had time to prepare, or force the young man not to finish the thug by interrupting his enchantment, but here a third factor intervened. And it was not the remaining spirits gathered little by little on the border with the spheres, but those who did not need to come to reality from nowhere. They already lived in it. Stepan felt with sensitivity and spiritual perception the woven magic, magic powerful, hot and holistic, magic close, and therefore he made another blink of seven meters, being on the side of the falling, like a chopped tree, Bone One.

Camrad_RIP 22.04.25 в 13:06

The air around the demon flashed with the orange light of a barrier-sphere, and inside it the demon, who had not really resisted, was imprisoned. And then, already inside the barrier, the flame ignited, and it was so hot, so magically saturated, that even the Goat's fur slightly stirred. The magister was beating, no less, and there was exactly one man in the city who fit that definition. A moment of searching and the strange eyes of the Goat immediately found a couple of weave-transmitters, a kind of magical video cameras, raised up, in company with his spirits, through which Miller directed his attack. Not even ashes remained from the maimed demon. The flames burned like viscous napalm, burning first of all the magic saturation, and the demon's body, especially so quickly and hastily molded. It is, as it has been said many times, magic in its purest form. Minus one enemy, minus one problem. Goat-Stepan raised his head and looked straight into the camera, around which his bloodhounds were already hovering. To be fair, he'd given them orders to track only infernal energies and direct attacks on the shaman, so they weren't looking at classic magic.

Camrad_RIP 22.04.25 в 13:13

He bleat something approving, and then he shifted again, barely in time to get out of the way of the demon's too hastily released charms, who was soaring confidently on already mostly regenerated wings. The feathers for the charms, however, did not grow new. They had to be lovingly prepared from the beginning. Demonic magic soaked a piece of space, as if to roll it into a bagel, and then that piece of space, compressed into a point, brazenly dragged into the gap-portal-break with the speed of a bullet. The pressure of the ashes became even stronger, the portal faded again, and the second melted hand of Laghan, who was trying to get out of the breach, appeared, and something told the shaman that not even her Mistress could stop her now, even though the demoness's kicking was breaking the link between Inferno and reality.

Camrad_RIP 25.04.25 в 19:10

From the second and third eye-transmitters, numerous fire lances flew into the hovering winger, intense, high-quality, each with its twist, and also very frequent, literally two or three per second for each of the retransmitters. Miller was burning with napalm and the demon, even with the unrelenting pumping, involuntarily had to hold the blow, and clearly wanted to swear. Judging by the images that the shaman's spirits read directly from the noosphere, he didn't expect the magister to react so quickly. The Earthman saw and felt, traced through the power channel of these repeaters, that the attack was coming not from the tower, from which the place of battle was very far away, but from somewhere closer, which was indirectly confirmed by the power of the attacks. With the tower as a backbone, Miller's fire would be much stronger; there was no doubt about that, but it would take much longer to aim.

Camrad_RIP 22.04.25 в 13:16

Stepan could take the chance to distract the enemy, but instead, he escapes from another teleport trap, which should have thrown him into the breach, only barely alive and partially whipped like cream by a mixer. Again, the fading portal. Again, a very dangerous attack, but now with an attempt at stealth, if not for the special vision and the strange eyes of the Goat, seeing in some very tricky spectra, could have missed it. Watching spirits, both on the side of the spheres and in the sky, did not notice anything suspicious until the last. But even having dodged Stepan did not counterattack, instead going into long blinks again, overloading this ability of the Goat, the last metres of the distance being covered on his own two feet, knocking out pieces of the walls of houses and stones from the pavement with his hooves, where there were stones at all.

Camrad_RIP 26.04.25 в 18:30

The Bloody One, still fighting with Sylvia, didn't miss his appearance, though he wasn't happy about it in the slightest. Sylvia, who had several not particularly significant wounds healing, only stepped back, taking the opportunity to exhale a little. Even with her blade, she was weaker. She was without her blood magic. She survived only by the first blow, which successfully deprived her opponent of his ungrown arm and cut through his chest. And the creature pressed with blood, though more for show, it did not have the advantage that allowed it not only to suppress, but also to use the Scarlet Drop effectively. Much more dangerous were attempts to take control by perverted spiritual resonance, like the one used by Sylvia herself. Only the demon didn't need to drink Malter's blood or meld his own with hers. The unnatural bond his robes gave him was enough. Fortunately, Sylvia's rag dolls, which were also disposable, had successfully intercepted such attempts, reducing in number by more than half.

Camrad_RIP 22.04.25 в 13:21

Even in the few moments that the shaman took to familiarise himself with the situation, it was easy to see the quantity and quality of the compulsions intercepted - love, admiration, fear, the desire to throw away the sword and hide, dragged through the return of Sylvia to her childhood and the pressure on the image-concept of a typical noble girl who did not know how to and did not master the art of combat in any form. A slow degradation of fighting skills and motor skills, combined with a growing emptiness in her head and an itch in her arse, literally a fixation on being kicked in the arse rather than swinging a blade. A couple more generally incomprehensible influences intercepted early on. If it weren't for the blade, which gave additional and extremely tough defence, if it weren't for the fact that the Bloody had to really fight and fight for life, he would have been able to squeeze through the dolls and even more so Sylvia's natural defence. The demon could bind vampires in all shapes and positions, and against dolls and other envolts he was prepared in advance.

Camrad_RIP 26.04.25 в 18:34

He also met the Goat with an anti-shamanic bloody resonating attack, which should have simultaneously paralysed the blood flow and forced the organism to release so many pleasure hormones into the blood that one could become a drug addict from the very first second, and incurable by any non-magical means. The Goat-Stepan scornfully ignored this attack, immediately responding with a kick of his hoof, not particularly high, just above ground level, just on the bone of his foot. The bloody dress was blown to dust by the contact with the blackness of the hoof, and the leg was nearly fucking torn off. The return blow, also internal, but already deadly, the rapid rise in blood pressure, until you burst to fuck, supported by a dozen scarlet arrows and a cloud of mist.... just doesn't find an opponent, because the shaman's already rushing back.

Camrad_RIP 26.04.25 в 18:36

Sylvia, who had received her witchcraft enhancement through the doll, swiftly severed the Bloody's other arm, right at the shoulder, and tried to gut it as well. The guts of the creature did not turn out to be intestines, and from the gutted abdomen spurted a glowing, toxic slurry, full of filth and not even scarlet, but honey, and his robes became unstable after such a wound. If Malter didn't finish him off after such a wound and loss, the shaman would put a full-length statue of a circus clown on her grave. It would be a true epic fail, as they would say on the Earth's internet. His last opponent, the bastard, was in no hurry to meet him and seemed to be considering leaving through his portal.

Camrad_RIP 26.04.25 в 18:38