Fake Black Wolves. The bane of my existence.
What could they be doing in a place like this?
We all readied ourselves for a brawl, but I knew both Code and Ophelia were low on mana by this point. Ophelia uses hers in increments throughout her day and was fairly good with regulation, but when Code uses bigger spells like he just did, I knew his tank was running dry. Not a dire situation, but also not an ideal one.
I sighed. "Fine then. I'll take care of it—"
YAWN...
A young male's voice echoed loudly, "Ah, man, that was a great nap. I needed that," he said. Refreshed. "Huh, where are we? What's going on?"
He didn't even let us answer.
"Dang, what did I miss? You guys look beat. Why am I covered in sand? Oh yeah... that 'place'... So was I right? We evolved, didn't we? No, you guys look the same... Wait, was it just me!? Am I a slime!?"
Code looked at him with utter disdain.
"Havoc, you're awake?" I asked, looking over my shoulder and back facing him.
"Well, no shit... After you nap, you wake up," he obliviously said as Code jeered, and Ophelia chuckled in the background.
"YOU WERE JUST SLEEPING THIS WHOLE TIME?!" Code finally burst.
"What do you expect man… I was hella tired. Why do you think I kept asking when we were going home the whole day? I swear, you guys always ignore me, it kinda hurts!" He shrugged, then started stretching like he was getting ready to workout. His dirty blond hair and braided rat tail whipped around as he did.
"We thought you were under a spell from that mech?" I said, jeering as well.
"Oh yeah, I remember that. Nah, it did try to poison me when I was inside it, but that didn't work, and then it tried to chomp down on me, but that didn't work either. I think it even tried piercing me with drills or something... I don't know, it was dark and felt kinda cozy, so I decided to take a nap in there..." It was like nothing was going on as he continued stretching and talking to us, "By the way, what happened to it? You guys beat that thing? Damn, I missed out! And we're not in the desert anymore. Where are we? When—"
Havoc kept talking while I drowned out his voice and Code was fuming just by listening to him spout nonsense. Ophelia continued chuckling in the background, and the fakes just watched us all the while in confusion.
Havoc had two personalities, depending on how much food and sleep he got. He was either lazy and sarcastic or hyper and annoying. There was no in-between with him.
I couldn't help but twitch an eyebrow at it all.
"Hey!" one of the fakes shouted, finally interrupting.
Havoc's ears perked.
"How can you act so casual when we have you surrounded!" Not a question. "Shut the fuck up and kneel you annoying brats!"
Havoc's mood became solemn as the fake spoke. Stopping his stretch, he finally paid attention to him and said, "Hey man... It's rude to butt into conversations you're not a part of and start demanding things,"—cracking his neck—"Especially when you're as weak as you are."
The fake fumed and grew his glowing sigil massively, "What did you say, you stupid punk?"
Havoc was unfazed by the action as he replied, "You need me to spell it out?"
The room tensed, but not to us... to them.
"You. Are. Fuck-ing. Weak."
His dark green eyes glowed as the rest of him shadowed, emitting a fierce aura that made the fakes shuffle back a bit.
"Cocky fuck!" the same fake shouted as he unleashed his magic from his massive sigil,
"Flame Magic: Scorching Fireball Blast!"
Havoc didn't flinch as the attack emerged, and a large fireball blazed a trail toward us.
He merely semi-transformed his arms and crossed it over himself. When the fireball came, he spread his arms and whipped them outwardly, deflecting the blast to the second-floor side of fakes up there, and a cloud of dust from the recoil shrouded us temporarily.
CRASH!
The fakes yelled and scattered; some even fell to the first floor after the impact.
The fake that cast the spell looked back to witness, what he thought was a powerful spell, get deflected so easily and back onto his comrades.
Right then, the shifting of skin and muscles sounded from where Havoc was in his ears.
Within the dust, Havoc's silhouette morphed twice his original size. He fell on all fours, and his hair began to harden. Wickedly shaped horns began forming on his head, and then a tail behind him that seemed to grow ever longer the more he became whatever he was becoming.
His arms, legs, and hands looked more monstrous as the dust continued to fade and he became more revealed to them all now. Rough, gray skin, razor sharp teeth with the face of a beast, and his eyes glowing, piercing through and locking into the eyes of the fake there before him—one eye a haunting red from where his natural dark green tone once was, and the other eye white as death.
"You're—You're a Primal!" the fake spouted, trembling at the sight of Havoc's fully transformed state.
Havoc's ability was Primal magic. And his typing was a Higher Grade 2 beast known in this world as a Behemoth.
And against any normal mage, especially in this form, he was nearly unstoppable.
I had used the dust cloud as a distraction to knock out a few of the fakes, and we situated in a vacant section of this abandoned church while we let Havoc do what his name suggests.
He let out a flamethrower from his mouth in front of him and whipped his head to the left, catching the fakes to his side on fire. At the same time, his tail whipped as he turned and slammed another group, sending them crashing into the wall.
Then from above, a group of fakes cast a flurry of spells at him from all elevated angles.
They barraged him endlessly as Havoc took each strike, and dust formed around him once more.
He whipped his tail and the dust cleared along with their futile attacks, revealing his monstrous self again. Unscathed. And their attacks completely ineffective against him.
He growled as another group tried to strike him from the side, to which he raised a heavy arm and swiped them away like insects.
The fake that cast the fireball earlier ran to another group and began casting Combination magic with two other fakes. They formed hand signs and chanted their own incantations, summoning a giant lightning, flame, and gale dragon that picked up mixes of earth and debris within it. It sparked and left cinders from the random emitted strikes all around the church, growing to a size even larger than Havoc's Behemoth form.
"Combination Magic: Elemental Dragon King!"
The elemental dragon blasted forward with its gaping mouth directly toward him and he remained in place.
From his beastly mouth, Havoc began charging a ball of energy that started as the size of a grapefruit. It grew continuously as it beat like a heart with each new size it reached as the elemental dragon drew nearer, sparking chaos and destroying everything in its wake.
It had gotten only an arm's reach away when he finally unleashed the ball of charged energy directly upon it, and his voice shouted ethereally,
"Primal Magic: Ecliptic Star Shatter."
FEEUUUM!!
The beam shrouded the elemental dragon, and the sound was like stars exploding. Ringing, bursting eardrums. Its power, so much stronger than the Combination magic the fakes cast. They weren't even on the same playing field of strength.
And as the blast petered out and the elemental dragon disintegrated into particles, the entire upper corner of this abandoned church had been opened entirely, letting in the embracing sunlight and open sky onto this once shadowed and ruined nave.
The sheer aura of the blast had knocked out the three fakes who had cast that last spell, and the rest of the fakes that were left had been left greatly intimidated by Havoc's insane power. They could do nothing against him except retreat with what little dignity they had left.
If that hadn't been enough, a beastly roar rippled the air and sent shivers down their spines. That was their cue to get out.
He remained like a statue basking in the light as they picked each other up and fled in all directions with their tails between their legs.
When they were finally gone, Havoc let out steam from his mouth and he transformed back to his original state.
He let out a sigh of relief and gestured a thumbs up without looking at us—knowing where we were behind a worn-out wall.
Closing his eyes and rubbing his nose he said, "And that, lady and gentlemen, is why my name is—drum roll—"
"Shut up." Code flicked his nose, appearing before him in a blink. "You're a lot cooler when you don't talk." Giving him a half smile of approval afterward.
With the fakes out of the way and the afternoon sun rolling over us, all we had to do now was figure out where we were and how to get home.
But just when we thought that was it, the church's double doors creaked open.
A tall, black-haired young man walked through. His attire, royal blue cloak, gold seams, and eyes as lazy and dreadful as a dying weeping willow.
Speak of the devil.
"So... this is where you stray dogs ran off to."