Whiteclay VIII

While Irwin knew where up and down was relative to his position, actually orienting his internal balance was another matter entirely. If not for his Enhanced Physique, then the disorientation would have been permanent.

A fall from such height would have caused a normal man to break his neck, but Irwin had merely cracked the bones in his upper torso. Yet even now, Irwin could not linger unto any shards of glass and snow surrounding him without his eyes getting blurry and hazy.

"S… schoot." He called out before spitting two white masses that he had posthumously analyzed as teeth. The pain should have awoken him from the mental disfigurement brought about by the fall, but there was something hindering his body.

He licked his lips as he zipped his jacket up to prevent further aggravating his injuries. But that wasn't inside of Irwin's mind as the taste of his lips brought images of iron, pus, and… magik?

With a forceful kick, he rolled away from the curbside and nearly broke his hands on the potholes on the ground. Before he could acclimate to his surroundings, however, a series of thuds dulled by the inches of snow reverberated amidst the howling winds. 

As he recovered from the fall at such height with such force and into the worst of the blizzard, Irwin couldn't help but turn to his back and catch his breath in painful wheezes.

A series of slow yet steady footsteps lumbering towards him brought his senses towards the present before being followed by two other footsteps, although those two were more heavy and erratic in its vibrations.

"You really think you can kill my students and then come into my abode like nothing happened, Agent Steel?" The wrathful voice of Elder Hawkins earned a chuckle from Irwin, having not known that the man would have the balls to deal with him.

"Marrapough."

The two lumbering and heavy footsteps picked up their pace which alarmed him. That alarm sent waves of adrenaline in Irwin's body as he rolled to his chest and stood up just before a claw whizzed past his torso, slicing apart his clothes and forming a shallow wound across his side.

That was, of course, if he did not have Viceroy's Promise on him. The Wendigo's claws met with the mystical armor and–akin to an unstoppable object meeting an unmovable mountain–a spark erupted out of the confrontation that sent Irwin rolling away.

Good news was that the force had allowed him to stand up on his own, albeit still badly hurt as the bones next to his neck were still regenerating. He could have drunk a Health potion at this point, but did not do so on account of two more Wendigo ganging up on him the moment he backtracked away from the first one.

As if they were bred and trained to be synchronized swimmers, the trio of Wendigos craved blood and they tried their best to get some from Irwin's own collection. Unfortunately, their inhuman agility and strength was matched by Irwin's Enhanced Physique, which allowed the hunter enough respite to recover from the fall.

"Fhuck." He cursed aloud after rolling away from yet another swipe. "Bhit my gahdamn tang."

He flicked his left wrist and there appeared a black leather bag that exploded into a whip made of blue flames and silver spikes. The appearance of the Flaming Whip startled the poor Wendigo, causing them to reel back in fear and astonishment.

"Witch." Elder Hawkins growled from the curb, eyeing the battle like he was a GM of a very evil sports team. "My magik is old and powerful, warlock. Do not tempt fate by chewing off–"

"Shaddap!" Irwin whipped at an incoming Wendigo before enacting a plan when he was at an absolute disadvantage. Irwin ran away.

"After him!"

Elder Hawkin's cannibalistic mutts chased after Irwin as the latter limped his way towards the only place that had enough illumination to pierce through the thick snowy field, Savoy's restaurant. Before he could, however, a Wendigo had caught up to him, having been raised in a forest and was therefore agile even amidst the inches of snow.

The Wendigo and Irwin tumbled onto the ground, the beast clawing its way into the man's chest and face. Unfortunately for the Wendigo, Irwin had more than enough experience throwing off mutts of his body as he activated Overmode to gain superiority in speed.

An arm covered in azure flames and silver spikes snaked its way past the cartilaginous limbs of the Wendigo before arriving at the boney chins of the monster.

 "Brimstone Blow." He whispered into the winds, flames immediately widening in response to the set of words.

For a moment, blue flames filled Irwin's eyes before a sickening crunch that was soon followed by a series of fleshy objects dropping beside and on him. The Wendigo had exploded into smithereens, at least its head, while its upper torso was blown to bite-sized pieces that rained upon the area like a crimson storm.

The two other Wendigo recoiled in fear, allowing Irwin to stand back up before running away again. While he may have killed one of them quite easily, his Status had reminded him not to be cocky.

His Stamina was below 50% and so was his Health, only his Magical Reserves were above 70%. Although the first two were regenerating at a pace far more rapid than the previous time Irwin was in trouble, it had retained in the hunter to be far more careful in situations like these.

'Fuck. Hawkins is gone.' He looked around as dove over the hood of his rental car and saw the visage of the middle-aged man gone from the sights of the bleak streets. "Fhuck this, zman."

Irwin halted his movements and faced his enemies, moments away from being ripped to pieces by the remaining two Wendigos. But before they could do him more damage, the doors to the restaurant opened and out came Scott Carey, with eyes that glowed in an unnatural blue light.

His roar was loud before going subsonic, threatening to break the surrounding windows. Just as the Wendigo's reach of Irwin's form, Scott's form unleashed a torrent of lightning that soared through the blizzard in the air.

Arcs of terrifying plasma tore through the nigh-invulnerable skin of the first Wendigo, cutting flesh and muscle before blowing apart organ after organ. A second passed by and the Wendigo was no longer in one piece, instead now covered in its own blood as its blackened limbs and slabs of its scorched skin rained upon Irwin and the remaining Wendigo.

The display of power clearly took a lot from Scott as he fell to his knees and vomited out liters of bile, nearly breaking the man. Spent and weakened, Scott raised a weak thumbs-up at his employer before returning to his vomits.

Irwin delighted in seeing such a powerful force dealing with an inhumane entity, inwardly vowing to perfect and hone Scott's supernatural ability to its ultimate end. But before he could do that, Irwin must deal with the last Wendigo first.

"G… Ghet omer here!"

He winded his arms and whipped forward, letting the Flaming Whip take its course before wrapping itself unto the torso of the fleeing Wendigo. Spikes carved its way through the undead flesh as Irwin pulled back with all his might and tore the Wendigo in half.

The death of all the Wendigos chasing after him caused all the worry and stress bubbling up Irwin's body to deflate. His body stumbling back and falling down onto the floor in exhaustion.

Alas, his job was not done. The man responsible for the creation of the Wendigo–at least through Irwin's deduction–Elder Hawkins, was still loose and, frankly, Irwin wanted to break that sucker's neck.

He had given Elder Hawkins the book back, which would allow him to create Wendigo once more, but that also meant that he could track down the monster creator and end his life.

'But first, rest for like five minutes.' He thought as he drank his second Health potion.

"You good, Scott?" Irwin asked, testing his newly healed tongue.

Scott's answer was a series of dry heaves and choking sobs. "I'm… gonna die. Does this happen every hunt?"

Irwin chuckled. "More so than you think."