Netori: Stealing The Hero's Party! - Chapter 923: Enough, Let’s End This!

All this while, the valkyrie had been holding herself back. Trying not to cause collateral damage to her companions, but now at last, with the hero himself turning into a monster, Helga gripped Moeria’s hands around her collar and readied herself with a whisper.
“Get to work, Moeria. I won’t have you fail me a second time,” and with that, she chased after the lingering presence of the hero in the storm of darkness clouding everyone’s vision as well as their minds. In the background, the clash between Arche and Evangeline caused quite a stir in the viscous darkness, but, avoiding the arachnid’s roaming feet everywhere, Helga drew a deep breath and readied her fist for a punch.
All the while, she sensed Amedith and the rest closing in on Raven as well. Each of them with their own plans, including the illusory copies of the heroes made by Kleishmeth. The goddess of foresight commanded the illusions, and being less of a fighter than a strategist, she kept her distance and fed them information about every possible action and outcome given the slightest shift in the situation.
Her eyes and mouth bled golden lights, searching for the hero and making it easier for everyone to find him. Alas, as the blind group got in arms length of the hero, their blows were about to clash. However, seeing his monstrous form kneeling on the ground and tearing away at his own skin gave everyone a moment’s pause. The nun was gone as well, having abandoned the candidate demon lord. Not because she’d given up hope, but because she knew that things had gotten more complicated the moment Raven’s consciousness began surfacing again.
’We will meet again, when you’re ready to accept your destiny, little hero.’ She thought right before disappearing between the delicate curtains of different dimensions.
“Get off of me, you monster!” Raven’s screams echoed in the darkness as he peeled away the caked layer of corruption baked over his fae form. Clawing away at himself, his voice split in two as he looked around at everyone gathered in front of him. “You’re gonna pay for what you’ve done! Gods be damned, you’re no different–the fools who follow in their footsteps!”
His oppressive voice rang in their ears as the din of the demon who may end all life prematurely in this world. But more than that, they felt command in his words, a command so deep that even their bodies refused to move despite being fully prepared to attack. That’s when Moeria analyzed what was happening and screamed out loud, snapping everyone out of their stupor.
“A fucking bard! Whatever is controlling him is using a bard’s ability to influence us! GET AWAY AND DON’T LISTEN, JUST ATTACK!”
“Let me close that mouth then!” Sneaking her way in through the dark clouds, Maine suddenly turned visible with her tail wrapped around Raven’s head. Quickly looking around, she squeezed the hero’s head and blocked any way for him to breathe for now. “Attack now!”
“Thanks for the support!” Running towards the monster, Helga slammed her feet on the ground and charged her fist with a wide draw. As her fist met the hero’s chest, those millennium-old gauntlets focused their god-felling rage and sent crashing through the hero’s chest. In a flash, the corruption over Raven’s body was splattered away from his skin, and within it, Helga’s fist cracked a few of his ribs before his body skidded across the floor and slammed into one of Arche’s many feet.
“ArugHH!” Despite the corruption peeling off him, Raven’s eyes remained bloodshot. His teeth were gritted shut, and the layer of corruption seemed to be returning. His fae part, on the other hand, was working overtime trying to repair the damage on his bones, all the while, Umbra’s granted skill to turn corruption into strength was expediting both the healing and the corruption itself.
A perfect storm, a body made to fight a curse while also feeding into it. Alas, there was little the hero could do about it now apart from trying to regain control from within.
“Come! Serve ME!” His hands outstretched to the skies, a thousand corrupted angels took form out of the darkness that had taken over the entire castle. Amongst them were horrors the hero had captured himself, and a handful of others whom he’d created out of the sheer malice he had witnessed in his adventures, held in this world against the gods, the people, and the darkness of the mortal hearts.
Illusions upon illusions surged in the darkness, assaulting everyone’s mind in a flash. For a moment, they saw what the horror meant for them to see: blood, guts, and rot and flies, but then out of nowhere, the illusions retreated, and the hero’s true voice screamed.
“GET THE FUCK OFF ME!”
Kneeling on the ground once again, his right hand squeezing his injury, Raven screamed his heart out as the bard’s ability kept trying to suppress his control over his own body. Lifting his head, he saw the darkness as clear as day, and with his mental link connecting him to his companions, he commanded.
’Leave this monster to me, you need to get back and help those on the ship!’
“As if we can’t leave you alone, what if this thing takes you somewhere else, and we can’t find you like Aurora?!” Melicia screamed out loud, and the rest couldn’t help but agree.
In response, the hero smirked and pushed his hands onto himself. Sinking them through the muck of darkness, he touched his chest directly and, with one last call to the mother of fae–the very same who’d helped him before, he hoped and prayed that this would work.
’Absorb!’ Using the same ability to create corrupted creatures on himself, Raven managed to focus and keep himself from spacing out. The monster screamed in the back of his skull, urging him to move and slaughter everyone. Perhaps he could defeat his companions, even the valkyrie, if he really tried, and that’s exactly why he did what he did next.
Tearing through his chest, the hero reached for his heart and pinched the core within himself–his corrupted soul. Much like he had done against Aran, Raven grabbed it with his hand wrapped around his bleeding heart. And then, he made the wish. His first sacrifice amongst many.
“TAKE IT AWAY, AND I WILL BRING YOU THE SOUL OF A GOD!” His voice echoed through the darkness, sending a cold chill down everyone’s spine.
They knew exactly what he’d done, and that realization turned even more haunting as they heard the words of a devil, primordial at that.
“A fine offering. Very well…” And thus, the primordial devil of the first hell–Luseferious, became part of the hero’s story.


