NOVEL NEXT B2 Chapter 2
What locked Angar up wasn't an Ability or some force of a Psychic. It was easily to tell when Zhaeryn Vexn had used a psychic power on him. He would've been able to at least fight against it, shrug it off.
A couple of psychic powers had been aimed at him since he descended into the hall, but not one had halted him even a moment.
If it was an Ability, his predictive status effects timer would've shown something. And he'd been shrugging off many since this battles started, attempts to slow, root, or stun that hadn't taken.
This was something fouler, a spell woven by the fell power granted to a demoniac or diabolic by an entity of Hell.
The paralysis held for only a second, but in that long second blaster fire, Abilities, and turret discharge hammered his armor, the biomechanical feedback blinking warnings in his HUD.
As the spell broke, Angar roared, clasping his maul's haft with both hands, spinning into Tempest.
The world slowed as his speed surged upon hitting one of the rabble packed around him. His power hammer became a vortex of Divine fury, each swing bringing death to those in its range, moving as fast as he could to the next turret.
The maul's head thudded into a Heretic's helm, crumpling it like foil, then swept through another's chest, hurling the body into the crowd behind.
Lightning crackled from the hammer's tip, stretching outward in jagged arcs, forking through the Heretics. Armor melted, flesh charred, and corpses twitched as the bolts chained from one foe to the next.
The hall glowed with the unnatural storm, the air thickening with the stench of burnt flesh and static discharge.
The 90% damage mitigation from Tempest shrugged off the turret fire and blaster bolts that tagged him as he twisted toward his next target.
Most Heretics fled, scrambling away, getting out of the lightning's range, running for exits, but Tempest spared none within its area of effect.
Angar carved a path to the third turret, near the back of the hall, next to the main exit out. His maul smashed through a Void Reaper's energy sword, the blade detonating in a fiery blast that singed nearby foes.
The next spin drove his hammer into the control box, ending that turret's threat.
With Tempest still active, the Reliquary of Wrath ring extending the ability's duration, he surged toward the fourth turret, downing the foes he could along the way.
The Ability ended just shy of his new target. He activated Lightning Strike, the shield flaring around him, absorbing the barrages beating into his armor. He struck, imbued Energy into his weapon.
The maul crashed into the fourth turret, sending a lightning bolt streaking down, the graviton pulse shattering the machine in a deafening explosion.
Angar's momentum carried him into a roll, dodging a volley of blaster fire. Ground Current crackled again, depositing him beside the final turret with a thunderous boom.
Lightning bolts rained down, frying the turret's circuits and scorching the Heretics nearby, their screams filling the air as he rolled, scanning the remaining Heretics. And there were a lot of them left.
The hall was a charnel house, littered with twitching corpses and shattered armor. But his enemies were far from defeated, their leaders barking new orders.
Angar stood amidst the wreckage of the last turret, now a ruin of sparking wires and crumpled metal, ready.
Blood pooled beneath his boots, none of it his own, all the gore of the Void Reapers and cultists, many of their bodies crumpled nearby, or strewn throughout the hall like broken toys.
His Crusader Armor was whole, scorched but mostly unharmed. His weapon hung loose in his right hand, its graviton conduits pulsing with a low thrum, the hammer's head dripping crimson and oil.
His chest heaved, not from fatigue but from the glory of slaughter, of getting the Lord's work done.
Glory Thunders drummed at the edge of his awareness, its resource brimming and ready.
A grim smile split his face. These scum thought they had a chance. He had felled a Harmongulan and the Phasorax. He had defeated the famed duelist Zhaeryn Vexn. His faith was a furnace, his wrath a storm. He was a Crusader, forged to purge the unholy. He was surrounded them, and this hall would be their pyre.
The Heretics rallied, their numbers still vast, a seething tide of profanity arrayed in front of him.
A giant man, high in the rafters, jumped down, crashing on the floor in front of Angar, wearing a suit of heavy power armor covered with spikes and skulls, a pistol in each massive, gauntleted fist.
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Angar kicked at a tree-stump like leg with his cybernetic implant, buckling the knee the wrong way. A scream released from the grotesque and filth-matted helm. Angar kicked the head, caving the armor inward with his tripod-foot, ending the yell.
More charged, and he waded into them. A group of Void Reapers knelt as one, their blasters roaring in unison, sending out a wall of searing bolts, forcing Angar to dive behind a metal pillar before getting back to work.
His instincts screamed of another threat, perhaps a diabolic caster lurking in the shadows, ready to unleash another spell. The Heretic could try. With the turrets down, he wasn't worried. He charged forward.
His maul swung, a cultist's helm exploding under the blow. A pirate roared as the butt of his blaster lashed out, but it was parried with a gauntlet hand, and the same hand crushed his head.
Some foul spell tried and failed to take effect on him. Sparks flew as he drove his maul into a man's chest, blasting him into the wall, leaving a crater of twisted metal and bone.
Another lunged with his spear thrusting. Angar sidestepped, seizing the shaft and snapping it with a twist. His hammer followed, crushing half the man's body in one blow.
A diabolic pulse rippled through the hall, then the air heated as fire billowed forth. Angar ignored this spell, along with the rest of the discharge hitting him. His armor was sturdy enough.
And he fought as his ancestors always had, without Divine power, without lightning, just man, hammer, and enough enemies to give a glorious tithe of blood and battle.
He didn't need anything else for this filth. He'd save on resources. And with his new armor, he didn't really need to worry about injury as he waded through his foes.
A large group of cultists off to the side began chanted profane litanies, ignoring their clutched weapons. Then the violence seemed to wane. Enemies halted, moving away from Angar, stepping back, avoiding him. And the battle just stopped.
Pushing through the throng were three figures, their presence silencing the rabble. All three were known to Angar, their info and images shared with him before he descended into this planet's atmosphere.
Karnath the Flayed, a towering brute, roared, his power-saw revving with a snarl as its runes flared red.
Black Veyra, lithe and deadly, glided forward, her infernal daggers humming, her milky eyes fixed on Angar with a dread calm.
The Iron Abomination lumbered behind, the many glyphs covering its body glowing with malevolence, pushing through the crowd like a train, its auto-cannon whirring, its massive cyber-claw snapping open and shut.
All three were Void Reapers. The only figure of note missing was Otar Imac, the cultist leader.
The lesser filth moved away as their leaders passed through, making their way forward.
Karnath went to speak, but there was nothing to say. Or nothing Angar wanted to hear, at least, besides the screams of the dying.
He charged, his cybernetic limb clanking against the gore-slick floor, his Crura Agiliora implant amplifying each stride into a juggernaut's sprint.
Instead of backing away more, the Heretics surged to meet him with a wave of steel and flesh, but Angar was a storm, unstoppable, unyielding.
A Void Reaper lunged, swinging a hammer crackling with energy. Angar sidestepped, and swung his own hammer one-handed with enough force it seemed to warp the air, the head smashing into the pirate's chest. Armor crumpled, bones shattered, and the man flew backward, crashing into others behind, their bodies collapsing in a tangle.
A nearby Reaper fired a pistol, the beam searing Angar's breastplate. He seized the shooter's helm with his free hand. The gauntleted fingers sank deep, crushing metal and bone, and he hurled the corpse into the crowd, toppling a couple cultists attempting to deploy a new turret.
Karnath the Flayed barreled forward, his body lighting up with some Ability or power, his power-saw screaming as it arced toward Angar's skull.
Angar ducked, but the saw's teeth sprayed sparks as they grazed his helm. He noted Karnath's impressive speed as he gripped his hammer with two hands and swung.
The maul's graviton pulse detonated on impact, as did Glory Thunders, slamming into Karnath's bulky armor covered in flayed skin, shattering some sort of invisible shield protecting him. The massive blow only sent him staggering back, but it sent blood splattering as all the lackies in a wide cone were torn apart, flung around like gore-filled ragdolls.
Karnath's Hell-fueled endurance held, and he kept his feet. Roaring, the pirate charged, swinging again, the saw chewing into the floor as Angar sidestepped, driving his maul into Karnath's knee. The graviton force buckled the joint, and bone snapped audibly.
Karnath roared again, lashing out with a backhand that Angar blocked with his forearm, his armor absorbing the blow.
As Angar went to smash in Karnath's face, Black Veyra struck from the shadows, her infernal daggers a blur of fell energy. One blade sliced Angar's back, the Underworld energy searing through his armor's joint, biting shallowly into his shoulder.
Angar pivoted, avoiding the second dagger, forced to abort his attack on Karnath. His maul swung at his new target.
Veyra danced back, her grace defying gravity, but the head still caught her, hurling her into a pillar.
The impact cracked the rusted metal, and she hissed, her daggers flashing as she disappeared and reappeared behind Angar again.
He twisted and parried with his hammer's head as his free hand snaked out, grabbed onto and snapped one of her wrists. He kept his grip tight and went to whip her up and smash her into the ground, but she somehow yanked her broken limb free.
He kicked out with his cybernetic limb, and caught Veyra's chest, sending her sprawling, her robe tearing open to reveal a body completely covered with grotesque Hellsign.
With Angar now in the open, the area around him clear of living Heretics, the Iron Abomination unleashed its fury. Its auto-cannon roared to life, a harsh bark of machinery that drowned the hall's screams.
Shells erupted from its barrel, each a fist-sized harbinger of ruin, tearing through the rusted floor in a cascade of molten sparks, ripping out ragged craters.
As Angar ran, the barrage burst into a knot of Void Reapers too slow to scatter, their mismatched armor shredding like parchment as blood and bone sprayed across the rusted deck. A cultist's chant ended as a shell obliterated his torso, the impact hurling him through the air.
Angar dove behind a shattered turret, the air exploding with the heat of near-misses. The auto-cannon's relentless fire chewed through the metal husk, sending shards of it exploding outward.
The broken turret wasn't enough protection. He needed better cover.
The Iron Abomination advanced, its cyber-claw snapping, glyphs pulsing with malevolent light, as the cannon's barrels spun, tracking Angar through the chaos.