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Supernatural: The Great Hunter System

Drifting across the infinite well of chaos, a being made of light and of death scoured the abyss using its omniscient knowledge before finally settling on a tiny little egotistical soul whose death embarrassed even him, a nigh invincible being of primordial existence. Granting the soul powers beyond its human-like comprehension, the being of ash and blood set it adrift towards its other little creation. A slice of... heaven. Of excitement. Chuck chuckled before chucking himself back to the main universe, chortling giddily for he had set loose an abomination on the Winchester's on this universe, nor any other universe, had never seen before.

Millan_Grimm · TV
Classificações insuficientes
110 Chs

Banana Republic XI

The angel did not speak, nor did it need to.

Just its mere presence forced Irwin to take a step back and contemplate his plan. It was then that his numbed limbs had remembered the existence of the Angel's blade on his right hand.

An angel could kill dozens of demons without breaking a sweat and he would be a fool to go against an entity like that without so much as a simple escape plan.

He felt the pressure of time. With Dagon's forces behind him and an angel in front of him, Irwin felt the pressure bubbling inside of him.

He activated his system and hastily navigated towards the spells and rituals section of the Trade Store.

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▪︎ Item Trade

▪︎ Store

▪︎ Trade Counter

▪︎ Store Credit: 418

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▪︎ Armors & Mystical Items

▪︎ Weapons

▪︎ Spells & Rituals

▪︎ Flora & Fauna

▪︎ Potions

▪︎ Materials

▪︎ System Consumables

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[ Spells & Rituals ]

▪︎ Human 

▪︎ Pagan

▪︎ Fairy

▪︎ Celestial

▪︎ Infernal

▪︎ Purgatory

▪︎ Natural Order

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In the next ten seconds, Irwin scraped what had remained of his concentration and scoured the eight categories of any long distance teleportation spell that could take him out of this hellhole.

All the while, his eyes, reddened and tired from all the fighting, never left the angel and its shadowy wings. 

He didn't stop searching for a suitable spell, even when his brain threatened to spill out of his head. Hundreds, if not a thousand, of spells ingrained itself upon his irises and not once did he dare to look away or blink.

An explosion resounded behind him, startling him for but a brief moment. The sounds of yelping hounds and a screaming woman inching closer to his ears.

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▪︎Scattering Wind (Celestial) (180)

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▪︎ Scattering Wind ▪︎

Description: An enochian ritual that enables its caster to temporarily becoming part of the wind, allowing the caster to traverse space with ease. Malachi, former soul counter and current master of the Flaming Sword, crafted the spell by beguiling Zephyrus and binding the essence of the western wind into the ritual.

Once the ritual begins, the caster is immune to physical and magical attacks. However, if the caster's concentration or invocation is broken, the ritual ends and the consumed magical energy and Angel's Grace is spent.

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The moment he bought the spell, his legs, having had enough rest, which was about twelve seconds, stormed forward. The ground beneath his feet caved in and cracked the surrounding few inches.

His body had moved faster than the wind itself, zigzagging around the array and nearly breaking his ankles so as to not give the angel any hint where he would strike first.

He acknowledged the futility of his movements, but he was more desperate than ever.

Just as he was a few feet away from the angel, the once still celestial being opened its eyes and revealed the golden glow inside. Its hands slowly, but steadily, extended towards Irwin as a streak of pink light converged upon its outstretched palms. A pink flower threatened to bloom as the angel injected more energy into its hand.

But before it could release its attack, Irwin opened his mouth. The blood on his body burned with a reddish-black illumination.

"Quédate quieto e non te movas de onde esteas…"

The angel ceased control of its vessel and helped the vessel's soul regain his own volition over his body, even for a brief moment. The act of forceful repossession caused the converging power to go haywire and unleash a blast of energy that hit Irwin just as he had skidded closer to the angel.

"W-what's happ-"

Petals weaved across the platform, sending fluorescent energy in every direction. 

He lost control of his spell as it crashed into the large obsidian monolith. It caused the angel to regain control of its vessel.

The angel's sheer proximity to the explosion forced to take the brunt of the damage as it was sent flying across the vast stone circle. Dark red lightning crackled amidst the storm of yellow energy as it tore apart every living being inside of the Aegis.

He was fortunate enough to be sent away by the first wave of explosion and only needed to leap a few dozen feet away before the violent tendrils tore him apart.

The angel, however, was sent flying up by the lightning, but, just when Irwin thought that the angel would be removed from the Aegis, the streaks of purple lightning that were engraved upon the surface of the obsidian boulder breathed into existence.

Their only purpose was to bind the angel within the confines of the Aegis. A powerful entity bound to be a guardian of a fairly complex magical technology.

He watched aghast as the angel returned to the center of the Aegis. The vessel's wounds healed soon after the landing.

Irwin's surprise didn't end there as the angel, after receiving an electric shock, gazed up with a heavy resistance.

"You… cannot… defeat me." It spoke like its vessel's mouth was full of cotton balls. "Surrender."

"I wish I could." He replied, shaking his head. He looked around the area, confusion settling in his mind as he found no traces of demons or sounds of battle.

Irwin held up a finger, turning around and, with the help of his enhanced eyesight, caught the sight of dozens of demons and witches surrounding the Aegis. 

"But… I think your slave master wants me to fight you." He chuckled tiredly. "In fact, I think she wants me to kill you and entertain her for a while. You know, before the real fun starts."

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[Sebastian Archibald Richard Greythorne IV]

▪︎ Physical Health: -22%

▪︎ Stamina: -23%

▪︎ Magik Reserves: 19%

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He could not bear to check Charlotte's status, so he kept his sight mainly on his first three statuses. Since he knew that this would be his last fight, Irwin watched his credits go down the drain as he bought a Mana potion, a Health potion, and the Stamina potion, respectively.

T-take your… time." The angel spoke as if it was being electrocuted every time it opened its mouth.

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[Sebastian Archibald Richard Greythorne IV]

▪︎ Physical Health: +72%

▪︎ Stamina: -61%

▪︎ Magik Reserves: +69%

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"Thanks for that." He wiped away the remnants of the potions from his mouth. The sequence of potion chugging caused a chain reaction in his stomach, one that unavoidably spread to his whole body.

One moment, he felt like he was being lifted up in the air, but the next moment, it was as if he had the heaviest clothes imaginable. Just as he was flexing against the sudden heavy weight, it disappeared just as fast as it had appeared before being replaced by the numbing sensation spreading across his limbs.

It took a few seconds to allow his body to accommodate the changes in his body, even then, it was still distracting.

An inkling of an omen sprinkled unto his mind that maybe, just maybe, it may have been a bad idea to chug three different potions.

"Are… you ok?" the angel asked with a hint of familiarity in its tone.

Irwin burped, launching a colorful and, strangely, glittering mist into the air. "Ugh, yeah. Just did something stupid. You, uh, you ready?"

"Yeargh. If you-ugh…win. My name… is Barchiel"

Irwin nodded as the potions worked wonders on his body, partially healing his broken hand and regenerating the dozens of small and medium-sized wounds on his body.

He dug his left foot against the ground and forced himself forward, backed by the sudden rejuvenation carried by the subsequent potion drinking. The wind caressed his cheeks, hands winding back as if ready to explode in the next moment.

Barchiel, moving like a puppet attached to unseen strings, glided towards Irwin, intent on meeting him in close quarters.

No matter how much he had prepared himself, the force with which the angel struck his blocking arm caused him to be sent flying across the Aegis. 

Feeling the bones cracking and his skin breaking, Irwin decided not to offer his body as a punching bag to Barchiel's inhumane strength.

His magical energy ran through his body, even disregarding the abnormal pain coursing through every pulse, and directed it into his amulet. Using it as a catalyst for his magik as he leaped forward, mouth opening for a solemn incantation.

"!Quédate quieto-Argh!"

Just as he had stabbed forward, a wave of light red energy sent him flying backwards and, once again, made his back crash against the obsidian boulder.

He gripped the blade tightly as he rushed forwards once more, swiping horizontally. When Barchiel evaded the attack with ease, he swung up and then brought the blade downwards, as if it was a tiger coming in for a bite.

Barchiel moved as fast as the sound itself, evading the incoming blade whilst swatting away Irwin's body with only his left hand.

He flew away once again. Although, this time, his body was early cracked in half by the sheer explosive strength with which the angel had pushed off his chest.

A sudden burst of pain in his abdomen and chest distracted him from the large tear on his back.

Breathing had become a chore, eyes so heavy that it felt his eyelashes were made of gold. The pain that had numbed from hours of fighting had rejoiced at the alternative source of agony within his body.

"Futility." Barchiel remarked sadly.

"M-maybe…" Irwin replied, mouth shaking from sheer agony. He could not control the tears as it rolled down his face. In fact, it had been a long time since he could control any part of his body that wasn't needed for fighting.

Urine had soiled his blood-sullied pants, hidden only by the stink of death accompanying his form.

He closed his eyes, even for just a moment. He thought of why he was in this position, how he could have been in this position, and when did he become the sort of man to be in this position?

The answer came upon him.

"... I'm weak…" His words flowed like honey on a hot summer day. "I always have… been."

He gripped the Angel's blade as if it was just a normal kitchen knife. He pushed himself off the crackling stone beneath him.

Blood dripped from his form, then came sweat and the tears.

He moved like a man with no fear. His amulet glowing with purple energy as he encouraged what was left of his magik to converge upon it.

He stabbed his blade, but the angel redirected it with ease. It was careful not to touch any part of the silver knife, clearly knowing that it could end its existence.

Irwin pushed through, using his shoulder to get under the angels' guard as he opened his mouth.

"Quédate quieto e non-"

The tip of the silver blade tore through the alabaster cloth, hiding the angel's figure and, for the first time in the encounter, scored a hit on the angel's thigh. But before Irwin could push past muscles of the vessel, a titanic pressure encompassed his form.

His words halted to a lurch and so did his whole body, as he felt like he was drowning deep in the ocean before being launched away by telekinetic force.

His body was sent careening past the obsidian stone formation and a few dozen feet down the hill. A trail of blood lining up to his broken form, dirt and grass on his face.

Irwin screamed aloud, pushing himself off the ground with shaking arms. One of his eyes had closed shut, blood congealing around his nose and ears, yet his body, strained as it were, pushed him off the ground.

His gait, unsteady. His form, wobbly. It was as if a strong breeze would topple him over. 

He had no sense of left or right or up or down, but he knew that he needed to escape. 

Escape.

That was what was on his mind as made the choice to reveal the ornate black card on his bloodied right hand. It looked like a tarot card, one that reeked of mysterious energy.

With what remained of his consciousness, Irwin placed the card upon his forehead.

"Ac-"

Before he could complete his sentence, the card vanished from his hands. 

"What's this?" The words were like terrifying thunder to his barely functioning ears.

Dagon, in all her full glory, appeared beside him, gazing at the Monster Banishing Sigil with great interest.

"I smell… the power of Avalon. What a peculiar card."

"G-give it back!" He yelled, stretching his hands towards her to retrieve the card. Given his current health, Irwin nearly stumbled to the ground when Dagon flirted past his vain attempt.

"P-Please, please…" He pleaded, eyes reddened with madness. "God, please!"

Dagon smirked, her tongue lashing against her lips. "You know what? I think I'll keep it."