Chapter 313: Chapter 313: The Vulture From Hell (2)
[Third Person’s PoV]
"Kill him! Kill him—!" the High Priest roared from the ground, hatred seething in his eyes as he pointed a trembling, blood-streaked hand at Harry, commanding the creature he had just summoned.
However, the demon he had conjured rely regarded him with disdain. Its elongated, spear-shaped tail sliced through the air with a sinister hiss before lashing out in a blur. In one fluid motion, the tail carved cleanly through the High Priest’s neck.
A sickening thwack echoed through the area as his head dropped to the ground and rolled to a stop, a stunned, almost betrayed expression frozen in his glassy eyes. Blood gushed from the neck like a broken fire hydrant, spraying the stone floor in wild, arterial arcs as his body slumped over, lifeless.
Harry stood rooted in place, eyes wide with horror, his face contorting into a grimace. His hands trembled and clenched slightly with rising anger as the sharp scent of blood filled the air.
The demon, unfazed by the chaos, idly picked his ear with a pinky finger, his expression twisted into a sneer of both disgust and boredom. "These arrogant mortals," he muttered, his deep voice reverberating through the graveyard. "Why do they always believe that summoning us gives them the right to command us like dogs?"
"You didn’t need to kill him..." Harry said coldly, frowning as he gripped his staff. With a practiced motion, he split it into twin batons that crackled with electric energy.
The demon’s lip curled, exposing jagged teeth. "And now another arrogant mortal believes he can lecture ?" His voice darkened. "This realm reeks of your kind."
Before he could finish the thought, Harry’s body blurred—vanishing from his spot like a bolt of lightning. In the blink of an eye, he appeared in front of the demon, baton already mid-swing and crackling with violent voltage.
But the demon moved just as fast. One clawed hand shot up, grabbing Harry’s wrist. The baton stopped barely a centiter from the demon’s face, electricity licking harmlessly at his skin.
Harry didn’t hesitate. He swung his other arm, but the sa thing happened—caught again, as if the demon had predicted his every move.
Then, without warning, Harry leapt into the air, twisting his body as he delivered a brutal double-footed dropkick to the demon’s chest. A deep boom rang out as the impact drove the breath from the demon’s lungs and forced him to release his grip.
Harry landed on the ground with and imdiately fired two weblines, catching the demon’s ankles. He yanked himself forward, sliding between the demon’s legs like a streak of shadow. As he passed beneath, he slamd one baton hard into the creature’s ankle.
The demon’s balance broke.
With a grunt, Harry twisted, using the montum to flip the demon into the air. Then, planting his palms against the ground, he launched himself upward with supernatural agility, slamming both feet into the demon’s gut. This ti, he didn’t bounce away. He stuck fast with his adhesive grip, the two of them now rising in a chaotic spiral.
Mid-air, Harry flipped with controlled precision, turning himself upright while forcing the demon beneath him. Acting fast, he fired two weblines behind him—anchoring them like grappling hooks. With a powerful tug, he pulled himself and the demon down in a spinning arc.
They crashed through a massive, ornate glass that shimred unnaturally—the entrance to the Mirror Dinsion. Glass exploded like a storm of razors. The demon roared as they smashed through the portal and collided with the ground in a hellish crater of fractured stone.
The air shimred again above them. The Mirror Dinsion’s entryway closed with a soft ripple, locking them inside.
"How cute~" ca an amused voice below Harry. The tone dripped with mockery and sadistic delight.
Harry’s senses scread. He twisted, trying to leap away—but the demon’s clawed hand shot up and wrapped around his ankle like a vice.
"I must say," the demon continued with unrestrained glee, "I admire the effort. Those were so impressive moves, truly. But now, be polite... It’s my turn."
Hellfire ignited in his palm—a molten blaze that defied physics and reason. The demon’s grip tightened, the fire licking up Harry’s leg. He winced, teeth gritted as he saw the heat shimr unnaturally, warping the air around it.
Harry tried to break free, but the demon launched himself upward in a single, explosive jump—and then ca crashing down.
Harry was slamd into the ground with a thunderous boom that fractured the already ruined floor of the Mirror Dinsion’s graveyard. His suit flared green as the impact energy was absorbed, then discharged in a retaliatory kinetic shockwave that blasted the demon’s hands away from his ankle.
Harry backflipped away, landing in a low crouch. He held his ankle for a second—pain pulsing from the heat—but his advanced healing factor kicked in, dulling it almost imdiately.
The demon chuckled, flas still dancing in his hands. "Let
teach you sothing, mortal," he said with a cruel grin. "Hellfire isn’t just fire—it’s destruction incarnate. It burns through matter, through magic, through your precious physics. It’s a fire that answers to no law."
Harry’s instincts flared again. He crossed his batons in front of himself just in ti as the demon lunged forward, fist blazing. The blow struck with incredible force, the batons catching most of the kinetic impact—but not all.
The weapons vibrated violently in his hands. The tal at the tips began to scream, warping under the intensity. Then, to Harry’s astonishnt, the top lted in his hands.
Harry dodged quickly, his reflexes sharpened by years of training—but the demon was relentless. It moved with an unnatural, almost otherworldly speed, effortlessly closing the gap between them. In the blink of an eye, it was right in front of him again, a wide, malicious grin carved across its face.
Harry grimaced and threw open a glowing portal behind him, hoping to create so distance. Without hesitation, he leapt backward into it. But just as the portal began to close, the demon surged forward, propelled by his own unholy montum. His hand reached into the rift, twisting the edges with dark magic and forcing it to remain open just long enough to slip through.
Harry barely had ti to register the demon’s reappearance before he was there again—re inches from him, claws igniting in blistering Hellfire. The infernal flas roared along the demon’s fingers, bathing them in a heat so intense the very air shimred and cracked.
The tips of the claws grazed the side of Harry’s suit, and instantly the protective enchantnts began to unravel. Sparks burst from the seams as the suit heated up at an unnatural rate, tal filants glowing red-hot. The runes sewn into the fabric pulsed once—twice—then fizzled into nothing, their magic stripped away like parchnt before a fla.
Even magic wasn’t safe from the raw, destructive force of Hellfire.
Then, with surgical precision, the demon drove his claws into Harry’s side.
It was like being struck by lightning and set ablaze all at once. Harry’s vision flashed a blinding white. The pain hit him like a tidal wave—violent, absolute, and all-consuming. It tore through every nerve ending in his body, overriding his senses with raw agony. His breath caught, then escaped in a strangled scream as blood exploded from the wound. But before it could even touch the floor, the intense heat cauterized it mid-air, leaving behind nothing but scorched flesh and smoke.
"ARGHHHHHHHH!!!" Harry roared, his voice raw and ragged as his eyes squeezed shut. His entire body convulsed uncontrollably, muscles seizing as the pain short-circuited his nervous system.
The demon laughed maniacally, the sound echoing like a chorus of tortured souls. With his claws still embedded deep, he lifted Harry into the air effortlessly, as though holding up a rag doll. Smoke trailed from Harry’s side as the seared edges of the wound hissed with molten heat.
"HAHAHAHAHA!" the demon howled, his laughter rising with Harry’s screams.
Harry’s hands clutched at the demon’s arm, trying to pry it away—desperate, trembling, weak. His grip was shaky, strength rapidly draining from his limbs. Nausea churned in his gut, sweat dripping from his brow.
’God, it hurts! It hurts so much! I feel like I’m going to vomit!’ his thoughts raced in terror, fragnted and chaotic. ’How is pain like this even possible?! My head—my thoughts—I can’t... think. Straight. Too. Much. PAIN!’
The demon’s grin widened with sick delight. He twisted his claws slowly, burrowing them deeper into the wound. Harry’s cry fractured into a hoarse, desperate scream as his body convulsed again, his head snapping back. His mouth opened in a gag, bile rising from the tornt overwhelming his senses.
His muscles spasd as his body tried to reject the agony, but it was inescapable—like fire chewing through his very soul.
The demon’s laughter continued, louder, more gleeful, echoing across the shattered expanse of the Mirror Dinsion.
...
"Daddy!!" Aria’s voice crackled through the comms, shrill and panicked, teetering on the edge of a sob. "I’m calling for reinforcents!"
"Don’t! Stop—don’t you dare!" Peter snarled through gritted teeth, slamming a trembling fist into the cracked earth. His voice was hoarse and broken, raw from screaming. The agony wasn’t just physical—the pain had seeped deeper, carving into his very soul. His body had healed, yes, but the wound left behind in his spirit still throbbed—gaping, gnawing, unbearable.
"But Daddy—!"
"I can’t let anyone else feel this pain!" Peter shouted, slamming both fists into the cratered ground with a thunderous crack. "This is my burden to carry—mine alone!"
His shoulders trembled like a leaf in a storm as he forced himself upright. Each movent felt like dragging a mountain uphill. His vision blurred at the edges. His muscles spasd under the weight of the tornt wracking his body. Even the simple act of standing stole more strength than he could spare.
He planted one foot forward. His hands stayed clenched against the ground, struggling for leverage. His body swayed and listed dangerously, like a tower about to collapse.
His hands rose with a twitch, trembling violently. He tried to summon his chi. Sparks flickered at his palms, then fizzled away. He inhaled sharply, exhaled through clenched teeth, and focused—despite the agony screaming through his every nerve.
This ti, the energy obeyed.
Space around him shimred as the Mirror Dinsion bent to his will. The warped reality shifted, stretching and collapsing until he stood face-to-face with the one who’d brought him to the brink.
The Vulture—Adrian—was rising slowly from the rubble, broken and battered, but far from finished. His wings twitched like a wounded animal, and he growled low in his throat, eyes burning with savage resolve.
Peter’s voice was cracked and cold. "Adrian... What price did you pay? The power you gain just doesn’t co for free"
The demonized figure cocked his head, jaw barely able to move through the fractured beak. And yet, he still spoke.
"What’s lost doesn’t matter," he hissed. "It’s what I’ll gain—once I take you down."
With a snarl, he whipped his wings forward. The tal feathers launched like a storm of blades, slicing through the air toward Peter.
Peter didn’t hesitate. He bit down on his lip and pushed his body past its limits. His muscles scread in protest, but he moved—webs shot from his wrists, pulling him sideways. He ducked and rolled, narrowly avoiding the barrage of tallic daggers.
He was learning now—learning how to fight through the pain, not despite it.
The Vulture leapt forward with a burst of corrupted energy, wings spread wide. Then he dove—screaming toward Peter with bladed wings extended, aiming to take his head clean off.
Peter let gravity take him. He fell backward, the wings slicing through the space his neck had just occupied. As Adrian passed overhead, Peter twisted and tackled him mid-air. The two crashed to the ground in a tangle of limbs and blades.
Peter didn’t waste a second. He began punching at Adrian’s face, each strike fueled by fury, confusion, and pain.
"What price did you pay?! Answer !!"
Adrian snarled and twisted, flipping Peter over with brutal strength. He pumled him, fists cracking against the exposed patches of Peter’s chipped mask. One blow—two—three.
"Hahahaha!!" Adrian howled in laughter. He slamd Peter’s head into the ground, scraping him across the pavent before hurling him through the wall of a nearby building.
"Fine!" the Vulture shrieked with mad delight. "If you have to know... I gave myself wholly and completely to the one true Supre Lord!"
Peter’s eyes widened, rage igniting behind them.
As the Vulture lood above, Peter’s arms sprang outward. Twin blades erged by his wrists—and with a savage yell, he drove them both into Adrian’s sides.
"YOU IDIOT!" Peter roared. "Do you even understand what you’ve done?!"
Crackling bio-electricity surged through him, coursing violently into Adrian’s body. The Vulture shrieked in agony, his body seizing and spasming uncontrollably. Bolts of energy exploded outward as they crashed together through the front of a small shop, tumbling into shattered glass and splintered wood.
They were tossed away from each other, Peter groaned, barely able to move. He pushed himself up, limping toward the twitching form of his enemy. Blood stained his lips. His legs felt like stone.
"Aria..." he whispered. "I can’t... think clearly. Look through our magical archives—we need to find a way to help him. We have to... save him."
"What?!" Aria cried out, her voice cracking. "Daddy, you can’t be serious! After everything he’s done to you—after the pain he’s putting you through?! Saving him should be the last thing we worry about!"
Peter kept limping forward, one hand pressed to his ribs. The other still sparked faintly with residual energy.
"We have to try, Aria," he muttered, spitting a mouthful of blood to the side. "We just... have to."
Aria’s voice softened, confused and scared. "Just... why?"
Peter paused for a second, eting the Vulture’s broken form with pity in his eyes.
"...Because I wouldn’t be Spider-Man if I didn’t."
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