Chapter 12-340: The End of Cursemother (1/2)

As I'm an American, Happy long weekend for the Fourth of July Independence day. May your fireworks not set the dry fields on fire (which happened across the road last week).

============

“Your Fate, your Doom, come all too soon.

Your hate, your gloom, a useless tune...”

“<Grapple her!>”

The Hag gawked as Sama slammed full into her, just as my full Heal got Sama all fixed up again from another shredded mess of bloody flesh. Sama made it really, really hard for the Hag to get off any Counterspells by dint of pouring point-blank fire into her face and Sun Strikes exploding off what used to be a head.

Sama had noticed that extreme display of Countering, too.

My Spellflare hit first, the Repeat Dispel following just in case.

Ho, yes, look at that. At least three layers of Contingencies went exploding, and covered the Hag with arcane backlash effects of dancing petunias, liquid crystals, and off-color pyrotechnics, among the tootling of an ice cream truck and that fresh pine new car smell.

The malformed Hag screamed in rage as her way out evaporated, whatever she was trying to do. Four serrated tentacles whipped out like steel cables, and sent Sama flying. Sama’s feet promptly glowed, inertia vented in Featherweight, then faded, dropping her to the ground only a few paces away as the Hag shot back to her feet using other tentacles.

This time it was a full load-out of Shardrays, preceded by three Stars to make it really, really hard for her to Counter them. I felt the final refrain of that Song also rising unbidden to my lips, and blew it out into the Sublime Chord.

Thunder Sang with us.

“Sung to despair and long-shirked blame

At last now comes your end of game!”

The Heavens lit up in three spectrums, and for a moment, you couldn’t even see the Haze above.

23 Shards into one Ray, 12 Rays, Topped to 15 damage per Shard, +7d6+70 in Kickers per Ray, murderously pure Primal power in each one, and just because I could, a full Smite and Silver Smite together on all of them, a combination I had never unloaded on anything, ever.

And unlike Sama, I had Vivic active on Clavus.

“TREMBLE, SHE COMES!”

Heaven came down on the unnatural bitch.

I had literally never hit a single target that hard with anything. I didn’t know how much Health and Soak she had under that Health Qi, but it wasn’t enough. The Heavens came down with far, far too much cold hard Reality for her Templated ass to deal with, and Reality didn’t much like her.

The unnatural energies empowering her with the Pseudonatural Template blew away and were devoured by the Land, so nice for the Aberrant to give back. The head flopped to the ground, the rest of her body burned away and plunged deep into the ground, leaving the soil there a pristine, sacred white.

Half-warped bone, half blue-black annis, the head was still alive, somehow managing to cackle and roil as it sat there on the purified ground, skin hissing at the contact.

“FOOLS!” she trilled. “All you do is for nothing, nothing! You are mere pawns! I will return, yes, and watch as your doom comes for you!”

Whatever interference she had with the /tells had evaporated, as Sama popped up in Markspace fully again. I didn’t get any closer as Sama glided in closer, the configuration of flames and powers on Tremble settling into something new and pretty ominous.

No more need for Brilliant, but Final Rest, Vivic, and +II blew Tremble into +XII Kill You Forever range, and the Hag’s laughter suddenly seemed less confident.

“You mean that shit your boss is trying to pull in Russia, Grandmother?” Sama relayed from me in a dead level voice, and watched something die in that sickly yellow orb. “How stupid do you think we are? It overplayed its hand ages ago...”

The half a jaw worked in gaping disbelief, looked beyond her to me a hundred yards in the distance, just watching.

The Old God who’d been where she was now leered at her from death on Clavus.

Tremble came down, and didn’t split space; she brought space with her, drove it into the remnants of that skull, and distilled it out.

By the size of the eruption as every living cell and the depths of the Hag’s twisted spirit was went vivic at the same moment, no, she wouldn’t be coming back at all.

-------

The Old Steed descended to the ground, then trotted up smoothly, ending up next to Sama in seconds.

Tremble’s golden edge was impaling a misshapen skull, half of it clearly bent and twisted unnaturally. Shrill, despairing laughter was echoing around it psychically, fading by the moment as it burned unwhite to crystalline rigidity.

“That’s gonna make a fine Dreadskull,” I observed sagely.

“Yes.” Sama plucked the Skull off of the point of her Blade, Tremble humming in great satisfaction, staring at it. “I think the Rantha Hags extended from her. There’s a link there, although it’s bent. I can feel a really great hate for this bitch...” She hesitated, looking away for a moment, then back at it. “I think it’s coming from my preincarnation.”