The Hammer of War, Chapter 27

 I stood in the quiet street, the moon half-hidden by drifting clouds. The night felt cold on my battered clothes, which still reeked of blood and sweat. A faint breeze carried the smell of damp pavement and distant pines. My hand rested on the [Las Pistol] at my hip, out of habit, though I didn’t expect any immediate threats. My mind, however, was busy with plans.

My War Points hovered at forty-three thousand—a staggering sum that surpassed everything I’d ever earned before. The fight with Thalessis had changed me. My VIT soared to one hundred forty-eight. I felt it in my bones. I breathed easier. My skin felt tougher, my body heavier yet somehow more responsive. My wounds no longer ached, thanks to the System’s final healing wave.

I exhaled slowly, scanning the quiet street. My parents’ house stood behind me, lights off, the windows still. I refused to go near it, not wanting to rouse them in the middle of the night or risk further danger. Instead, I stepped under a streetlamp and opened the System interface. The swirling lines of text hovered before my eyes, lit by a faint glow only I could see.

I navigated to the [Blank] skill. The screen displayed:

[Blank] – Level 1
Cost to Upgrade to Level 2: 11,000 War Points.
Effect: Nullifies or weakens magical energies within a small radius around you. More powerful levels increase radius and intensity.

I clenched my jaw. Eleven thousand was a steep price, but worth it. I had thirty-two thousand left if I did it. That was still plenty for additional units or gear. My battered jacket hung loose around me, stained with blood. The lamplight made me aware of how much gore still clung to the fabric. But I focused on the screen, ignoring the crusted stains.

I confirmed the purchase. A sudden wave of cold washed over me, as though the night air turned frigid. My heart sped up. My senses briefly dulled. Colors around me dimmed, losing their vibrancy. The streetlamp’s glow seemed less warm, more gray.

My breath caught in my throat. My skin tingled, the air around me feeling heavier. A quiet hush pressed in, like the atmosphere itself had taken a step back. I exhaled, glancing around. The edges of my vision seemed muted, as if someone had lowered the saturation in my eyes.

That was level two. My aura had strengthened. I inhaled, forcing calm. I lifted a hand, flexing my fingers. The ring on my finger, a little cheap trinket I wore for sentimental reasons, gleamed with far less sheen than before. Everything felt… dulled. My heart pounded, but I kept my composure. If I maintained this aura for too long in a public place, I might cause serious issues. Some bystander with a subtle magical blessing might collapse. Or a local wardsmith might detect me.

But I needed more. Helena was strong. She was the real threat, a being who was physically and magically superior to me. My new VIT might keep me alive. [Isha’s Favor] and [Lesser Regeneration] might seal wounds. But if I couldn’t quell her magic, I’d still be at a disadvantage.

I sighed and returned to the interface. The next level of [Blank] cost fourteen thousand War Points. That would bring me down to eighteen thousand left. My mind hesitated for a moment, but I swallowed the doubt. I tapped confirm.

A sharper chill struck me. My arms shook for an instant, and the black-and-white effect intensified. Colors around me practically drained away, leaving a monochrome scene in the glow of the streetlamp. My jacket looked grayish. The asphalt and houses seemed drained of life. I felt an oppressive aura spreading from my body, rippling outward in invisible waves. My chest felt heavy, as though my breathing took more effort.

I stepped forward, hearing a slight crackling noise. Leaves near my feet withered, turning brown before my eyes. Grass tufts along the sidewalk bent, curling in on themselves, shriveling into lifeless husks. My eyes narrowed. This was new. Crentist’s aura did something like this, but on a lesser scale. My aura siphoned the vitality of lesser life-forms around me. But it wasn’t just that. If I was now above Crentist, then that meant I was–for all intents and purposes–invisible, simply because the minds of sentient beings did not want to recognize me as something that existed, vehemently rejecting the very idea of my existence. 

Of course, that was only for regular people. Supernaturals were likely a different story. 

Still, very dangerous.

I quickly turned off the effect. My shoulders eased, the tension in the air lightening. The leaves and grass remained shriveled where I’d passed, but they wouldn’t degrade further. The color returned to my surroundings in a slow fade. The lamplight regained a soft yellowish hue. My jacket looked more greenish-brown again. My heart still thumped, a mix of awe and caution. If I left [Blank] fully active like that, I might harm innocent people or animals. More dangerously, I could also tip off local wards or magical eyes to my presence.

But I wasn’t done. The final upgrade I could afford was seventeen thousand War Points to reach level four. The cost alone indicated how potent it was. My stomach knotted, thinking how oppressive that aura might become. Still, I needed it. Helena was going to fight with everything she had. Wounded tigers, after all, were the fiercest, simply because they were only ever fighting for one thing: their own lives. Helena, I suspected, wouldn’t be dissimilar. 

I confirmed the purchase. My War Points dropped from eighteen thousand to just a thousand left. A weird hush descended again. But with [Blank] toggled off, I couldn’t see the immediate effects. I also didn’t want to. The interface told me I was now at level four. No descriptors popped up, just a note:

[Blank: Level 4 achieved. Further upgrade (Omega Minus) requires 50,000 War Points. Caution: Current level can harm the environment severely if fully active.]

I let out a breath, gazing at the text. Fifty thousand for the next step. That was well beyond my current means. Maybe in the future, I’d accumulate enough War Points to purchase what appeared to be the final form of [Blank]. For now, level four was monstrous enough. The memory of how plants died at level three made me shiver. I had to keep it off unless I needed it. Otherwise, I’d be a walking zone of death. Not exactly stealthy or kind.

I closed the interface, glancing around again. The night remained still, broken only by distant car engines. My jacket flapped in a mild breeze, dried blood rustling as the fabric shifted. If anyone saw me, they’d probably call the cops or think I'd been in a major accident. But the hush of this neighborhood suggested no one was awake, or at least not peering out of their curtains.

I tested my footing, stepping onto the curb. My body felt strong—no, more than strong. My bones felt like steel rods, my muscles like coiled serpents waiting to strike. My heart beat a steady, slow rhythm, each pulse saturating my organs with fresh blood. My breathing was calm, even though my mind still spun. The transformation was real. My STR stat remained the same, but the excess VIT made me feel like I could eat bricks and nails for breakfast.

Pretty much all my units were used up and wouldn’t be available for a while. Crentist’s job was to look after my parents. So… I was gonna have to face Helena on my own. But, not to worry; I had my [Tau Rail Rifle] and a [Las Gun]. I wasn’t going to lose. 

Hopefully.

I turned away from my old home. I’d already said my goodbyes. It’d be a while before I was ever going to meet my parents again, but this was for their own good. The dark street stretched ahead, dotted with quiet houses and dim streetlamps. My parents slept somewhere behind one of those doors, oblivious to the battles I fought. They thought I’d left to protect them. They were right. I had no intention of dragging them into a war with devils.

I walked. Each footstep echoed softly off the asphalt. The night sky overhead felt so peaceful compared to the dungeon’s swirling madness. No thunderous roars, no alien screams. Just the hush of suburbia. My mind drifted to Helena. She’d kidnapped my mother once. She had threatened my life. She was a devil, likely among the cunning ones. She’d be out there, hiding and licking her wounds. Briefly, I considered the possibility of her retreating to hell–or wherever it was that Devils came from. If she did so, then I’d never know. 

Still, that possibility wasn’t about to stop me. 

I stepped onto a main road. A single car passed, headlights glaring. I needed a plan to hunt Helena. She might be associated with devils in Maine, or maybe she had a lair. The supernatural side of the city was hidden, but not impenetrable. If I asked around, maybe I'd find leads. The idea of a “Wizard's Tower” or “Devil’s Den” sounded cliché, but there had to be some haunt devils used as safe houses. I… honestly had no idea what I was doing. The [Tempestus Scions Training] package did not come with investigative techniques. 

I crossed the street, pausing at an intersection. A single traffic light blinked yellow, the roads empty. I sniffed the air. It smelled like moist pavement and far-off pine, nothing else. My entire body tingled, as though expecting a fight at any moment. I forced myself to relax. I'd just left a war zone. The real world was calmer—usually. There weren’t a lot of people out here tonight. Around this time, my friends, Ben and Terry, were probably out partying their brains out and testing the capacity of their livers. 

I hope those two never had to get involved in whatever it was I’d gotten myself into. 

I walked faster, crossing into a more commercial district. Buildings loomed, closed shops and offices in the darkness. The neon signs had gone out for the night, except for a single 24-hour convenience store glowing in the distance. I considered stepping in to grab a bottle of water or something. But my appearance might freak out the clerk. I'd pass for a junkie with the state of my clothes at the moment. Perhaps it was best to stay out of sight. Maybe I'd slip in an alley, use the [Inventory] to swap outfits. I did bring a few spares along, after all, when I’d rummaged through my own room. 

I ducked into a side street. The darkness swallowed me. Shadows parted, revealing trash bins and a silent row of parked cars. Perfect for privacy. I tapped into the System, rummaging through my [Inventory]. I found a set of casual clothes that I’d already forgotten about after everything that happened. Basic jeans, a hooded sweater, running shoes. Not the best outfit, but better than what I had on now.

I changed quickly, tossing the shredded clothes into a corner. I left the alley, feeling more or less presentable. I strolled down the sidewalk, hood up. I paused at a closed coffee shop, reading the sign in the window. Chairs were stacked, lights off. My reflection stared back in the glass, a tired face, gaunt and pale, like my classmates a week before exams, having crammed like twenty medical books in just a few days. I felt… tired. Really tired. But only mentally. My body was fine. 

I mulled over how to find Helena. She was cunning, bold enough to kidnap my mother once. She might be lurking in some abandoned warehouse again, or traveling under illusions. I had no idea how to even begin looking for her, honestly. Portland wasn’t a large city, like New York, but it was still massive and I couldn’t possibly search every nook and crevice in the off-chance I’d find her. So, what could I do? 

Well, perhaps it was time I actually tried looking for the supernaturals of this city. And maybe, just maybe, I might find a path that’d lead me right to her.