NOVEL NEXT Chapter 216: Slow Exits.
The Beast King's massive form loomed over the battlefield like a living nightmare made of shadows and starlight.
Its eyes, those twin galaxies of black and gold, swept across the broken landscape with the casual interest of someone picking out groceries.
Except instead of choosing apples or bread, this cosmic horror was deciding which of Creed's beloved summons to murder first.
The dimensional storm around them seemed to hold its breath, as if even the chaotic energies of broken space were afraid to make too much noise in the presence of this absolute monster.
What happened next was like watching a master chess player casually destroy a bunch of kindergarteners who had just learned how to move the pieces.
The Beast King didn't even bother moving from its spot. It simply raised one massive, clawed hand and made a gesture that looked almost bored, like it was swatting away a particularly annoying fly.
The air around them shimmered with power so thick that Creed could practically taste it on his tongue, a metallic flavor that reminded him of licking batteries mixed with the smell of ozone before a thunderstorm.
All of the Beast King's agents, those terrifying monsters that had been beating the absolute stuffing out of Creed and his team just moments before, suddenly melted back into the shadows like they were made of liquid darkness.
They didn't retreat in any normal way that made sense. Instead, they sort of folded themselves into the spaces between spaces, slipping through cracks in reality that shouldn't have existed.
One moment they were there, snarling and ready to tear everyone apart, and the next they were gone, leaving behind only the faint echo of their presence and the lingering smell of sulfur and burnt metal.
'Oh, great,' Creed thought to himself as he watched this supernatural horror show unfold before his eyes, his internal voice dripping with the kind of sarcasm that could probably corrode steel.
'The big boss decided to handle this personally. Because clearly, sending an entire army of nightmare fuel wasn't enough to deal with one stupid teenager and his magical friends.'
'This is like using a nuclear bomb to kill a mosquito, except I'm the mosquito and I'm about to become a very tiny, very dead smear on the windshield of cosmic justice.'
The Beast King's attention turned to Lilith first, probably because her lightning powers were the flashiest and most annoying to deal with.
She stood there, her beautiful face pale with exhaustion and terror, her purple sigils flickering like dying Christmas lights.
Her lightning spear, which had seemed so powerful and impressive just minutes ago, now looked like a child's toy in the presence of this overwhelming force.
The Beast King didn't even need to touch her. It just looked at her with those galaxy eyes, and suddenly Lilith's entire body began to dissolve from the feet up, like she was a sugar cube dropped into cosmic acid!
"No, no, no!" Creed shouted, his voice cracking with panic and disbelief. He tried to summon her back into his tattoo, but for the first time in his entire life, it didn't work!
There was nothing he could do but hope she didn't get too mentally traumatized from dying in a 100% real virtual reality experience!
The worst part was even when he tried to summon Tierra back as well, it didn't work either!
'That's not fair! She didn't even get to do her cool lightning tornado move! You can't just delete people by staring at them! That's against the rules of… of… well, everything that makes sense in the universe!'
But the Beast King either couldn't hear his protests or simply didn't care about the opinions of insects.
Lilith's form continued to break apart, starting with her boots and working its way up her legs.
She looked down at herself with a mixture of confusion and terror, trying desperately to use her lightning powers to somehow hold herself together.
Purple electricity crackled around her dissolving form, but it was like trying to stop a flood with a paper towel.
Her sigils flared brighter for a moment, then began to fade as the dissolution reached her waist.
'This is so messed up,' Creed's brain babbled frantically as he watched his powerful summon get casually erased from virtual existence.
'I mean, I knew we were outclassed, but this is ridiculous! It's like bringing a water gun to fight a hurricane! Actually, no, it's worse than that. It's like bringing a wet napkin to fight the concept of destruction itself!'
'And why is it so slow? Is this thing savoring the moment? Does it enjoy watching us suffer? What kind of sick cosmic entity gets its kicks from bullying teenagers?'
Lilith managed to look at Creed one last time before the dissolution reached her chest.
Her mouth moved as if she was trying to say something, probably some final words of wisdom or encouragement, but no sound came out.
Her beautiful face, which had always been so confident and seductive, now showed only anger and frustration.
Then the dissolution reached her neck, and a few seconds later, there was nothing left of the powerful lightning empress except for a few sparkling motes of purple energy that drifted away on the dimensional winds like cosmic dandruff.
Tierra was next on the Beast King's cosmic hit list. The space manipulator tried to use her powers to escape, attempting to fold herself into the gaps between dimensions where she had always been safe before.
But the Beast King's presence was so overwhelming that it had somehow contaminated even the spaces that didn't exist.
When Tierra tried to phase into her usual hiding spot in the void between realities, she immediately got bounced back out like a rubber ball hitting a brick wall.
'Oh, come on!' Creed's mind wailed in frustration and growing horror.
'Even her super cool space powers don't work? That's her whole thing! She's supposed to be untouchable! But this overgrown cosmic bully has somehow managed to ruin even the parts of reality that aren't there!'
'How is that even possible? Did it file some kind of interdimensional restraining order against her? 'Sorry, miss, but your space powers are not welcome in this neighborhood of existence!''
Tierra materialized fully in the regular world, looking around desperately for some kind of escape route that didn't involve bending space and time.
Her usually calm and collected expression was replaced by something that looked suspiciously like panic.
She pulled out her twin silver daggers and tried to charge at the Beast King, probably figuring that if she was going to die anyway, she might as well go down swinging.
But the moment she took her first step toward the massive creature, her body began to stretch and distort like she was being pulled through a funhouse mirror.
The Beast King wasn't even looking at her directly this time. It seemed to be examining its own claws with the kind of bored interest that suggested it was thinking about getting a manicure after it finished committing genocide.
But despite its apparent lack of attention, Tierra's body continued to stretch and twist in impossible ways.
Her arms elongated like rubber bands, her legs became twisted spirals, and her torso stretched out until she looked like a piece of abstract art created by someone having a particularly bad acid trip.
'This is absolutely sinister,' Creed thought, his mental voice reaching new heights of hysteria. 'It's not even paying attention to her, and she's still getting turned into some kind of surreal sculpture!'
Tierra's distorted form finally snapped back like a rubber band that had been stretched too far. But instead of returning to her normal shape, she simply popped out of existence with a sound like a soap bubble bursting.
Pop!
One moment she was there, looking like a Picasso painting that had come to life and developed severe anxiety, and the next moment there was just empty air and the faint smell that always followed her teleportation abilities.
Now it was just Creed, standing alone on the broken battlefield, facing down a cosmic horror that could apparently delete people from reality just by being in a bad mood.
The irony of the situation wasn't lost on him. Here he was, the great hope candidate, the entrance exam champion, the default class captain, about to be virtually murdered by something that was probably older than the concept of murder he knew itself.
And the worst part was that somewhere in the back of his mind, he could feel the Primordial Circle trying to activate, that mysterious power that was supposed to make him incredibly strong and important.
But the Primordial Circle was taking its sweet time about it. Creed could sense it slowly, very slowly, beginning to spin up like an old computer trying to load a program from a floppy disk.
The ancient power was definitely there, humming away in the depths of the structure, but it was moving at the speed of continental drift.
At this rate, it would probably finish activating sometime around next Tuesday, which would be several days too late to save him from his current predicament.
'Oh, sure,' Creed's brain ranted sarcastically as he felt the Primordial Circle's glacial progress.
'Take your time, mysterious ancient power. It's not like I'm about to be turned into cosmic dust by a walking nightmare or anything.'
'Feel free to warm up for another few minutes while I get deleted from existence.'
'Maybe you could grab a coffee while you're at it. Maybe read a newspaper. Maybe write a strongly worded letter to the management about how this whole situation is terribly inconvenient for everyone involved!'