Reincarnated as a Supernatural Horror Entity 124 - Clash!

The Shadow Troll roared. Its crude, stony claws extended.

It was a lumbering brute. With ink-black hide and muscular, yet hunched body. A creature born of twisted faith and dark magic. A crude imitation of primal strength.

Jack, in his specter form, didn't waste ti with chanting. He activated [Blinding Flash] from his spectral grimoire. A burst of pure bright light erupted from his body. Washing over the warehouse.

The Shadow Troll recoiled. Its unholy eyes searing with pain. The remaining acolytes shrieked. Clutching their faces. Montarily disoriented. It was enough.

Before their vision cleared, Jack casted a volley of [Magic Missiles]. The arcane bolts shot forth at the Shadow Troll. Each bolt struck with concussive force. Chipping away at its black hide. The creature roared in pain and frustration.

And even before the barrage of arcane missiles ended, Jack had casted another spell. A chilling hum filled the air. [Void Cut]!

A shimring, almost invisible blade of pure void energy materialized. Tearing through the air. Carving a silent, devastating arc.

The acolyte who had summoned the troll was still reeling from the flash. He suddenly found the Void Cut slicing clean through his torso.

There was no blood. Only a surge of dissipating dark energy as he collapsed. Lifeless. One down. Four re remaining.

The lead acolyte was recovering faster than his comrades. He scread curses. He hurled another blast of black fire. But Jack was already gone. Phasing through a stack of crates as if they were mist.

The black fire struck the crates. Setting them ablaze. The warehouse was becoming a fiery, chaotic ss.

Jack noticed that the surviving cultists, including the two still ensnared by the [Vine Entanglents], were in a tight cluster. Without hesitance, Jack activated... [Chain Lightning].

A jagged bolt of pure, crackling energy erupted from his spectral hand. Arcing from one acolyte to the next. All of them, even the two acolytes still ensnared by the [Vine Entanglents] writhed in desperation as the lightning coursed through their bodies.

Their forms spasd. Their dark energy flickered for a while. And then... extinguished. The vines, now devoid of targets, receded into the floor.

Only the lead acolyte and the Shadow Troll remained. The troll, partially recovered, lunged at where Jack had last been. Smashing through more crates. Its movents were sluggish. Its form was still in pain from the Magic Missile barrage earlier.

"You'll regret this, Damn Ghost!" The lead acolyte shrieked. His face was contorted with rage. He began to chant. Letting out a series of bone-chilling, insidious incantation. One that promised sothing truly abominable.

Jack wouldn't allow it. He invoked [Mysterious Anomaly]. Suddenly, the warehouse walls seed to lt. Replaced by swirling limitless darkness.

The lead acolyte froze. His eyes were widening in horror. He saw not Jack. But a legion of screaming, tortured souls. Their skeletal hands were reaching for him. Whispering his deepest, most primal fears into his mind.

The illusion was so real that even Jack himself almost got spooked by it. For the lead acolyte, it was even worse. His chant broke. Replaced by a choked gasp of terror.

The Shadow Troll was less susceptible to ntal attacks. Yet, it still stumbled as the ground beneath it seed to twist and contort. Revealing gaping maws and shadowy abysses. It roared its confusion. Its lumbering charge faltering.

Taking advantage of their disorientation, Jack didn't waste a second. He mumbled so incantations. The words were resonating with strange, otherworldly power. The [Forceful Frog-morph] was activated.

The Shadow Troll shimred. His form contorted. Shrinking rapidly. His skin turned slick and green. His features stretched into a ridiculous, yet harmless form.

In seconds, a plump, green frog sat where the troll had been. Croaking feebly. Utterly bewildered. The spell wouldn't be able to hold for long.

But it was long enough. For Jack to cast [Void Cut]. Another shimring, faint blade of pure void energy materialized. Splitting the frog into two. Right in the middle.

The Shadow Troll reverted back to its original form. A dead one. though Split in two pieces.

The lead acolyte snapped out from his personal nightmare. He roared and accumulated mystical black fire in his hands.

Witnessing that, Jack raised one eyebrow and muttered. "Dumb guy!" While quickly preparing his [Portal Wards].

If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

The lead acolyte hurled the huge, accumulated black fire in his hands to Jack. But the specter casually activated his [Portal Wards].

Two black-hole barriers sprang into existence. One absorbed the black fire. The other spitted out the sa absorbed blackfire. Striking back and incinerating the unsuspecting last acolyte.

He scread painfully. For a few seconds. Before completely turning into ash.

"Killed by your own spell? How pathetic." Jack comnted drily.

The warehouse was silent. Save for the crackling of the burning crates. And the distant noises. Jack sighed. The eight Fallen Acolytes were dealt with. Very quickly. Too quickly in fact.

He sensed Spider's commotion outside. A strange symphony of destruction and distraction.

He quickly floated back outside. Other than the last corpse that turned to ash, the corpses of the seven Fallen Acolyte and the bisected Shadow Troll floated out along with him.

Outside the warehouse, Lonestone Capital City was a racket of urgent alarm. Spider wasn't just making noise. He was conducting an orchestra of panic.

Abandoned tenents... Dark hulks of brick and decaying wood. They blazed with unnatural intensity. Flas licked high into the night sky. Their orange glow painting the industrial docks in a hellish light.

"Woohoo! Look at 'em burn!" Spider zipped out of the buildings. A translucid whirlwind of childish glee and spectral gloom.

Nearby church bells usually rang solemn hymns. They now tolled with frantic urgency. The noise was imnse, a siren call for trouble. And trouble answered.

The particular part of the Church District was a chaotic sight of fire. Jack watched the spectacle. The orange glow of the burning tenents was reflected in his glowing spectral eyes. Spider had done his job. Now, it was Jack's turn.

A sudden surge of power rippled through the air. Jack felt it before he saw them. Flashes of golden light. And the dull gleam of polished steel.

A crowd of golden-robed figures. Their expressions were stern and unyielding. They appeared beside a cluster of armored City Enforcers. These were the heavy hitters.

The transcendent individuals from the Church of Prosperity and the City's Elite Law Enforcent. The ones who truly held power in the Church District.

Jack registered Spider's absence. The young ghost had vanished. Phasing through the concrete floor of the warehouse. Good. He was where he needed to be, guarding the children.

Jack, however, remained visible. He floated easily above the cobblestones. A specter in the shape of a stage-magician. Masked. Cloaked. Holding a spectral torch and a spectral grimoire.

Around him, suspended in the air, drifted the seven corpses of the Fallen Acolytes. And a bisected corpse of a Shadow Troll. A grim, macabre display.

A hulking figure stepped forward from the Enforcer ranks. Commander Thorne, the man in charge of the City Enforcers. His hand was resting on the hilt of his heavy greatsword. His eyes, sharp and unwavering, fixed on Jack.

"You!" Thorne's voice was a loud roar. "Identify yourself. Explain this disruption. Why instigate such trouble in the Church District?"

Jack tilted his masked head. The eight dead cultists orbiting him in silent accusation. His voice, when it ca, was a soft, spectral echo. Yet it carried an undeniable weight.

"Trouble? You call this trouble, Kid? I call it a cleansing."

With a casual flick of his wrist, the eight bodies plumted. They struck the cobblestones with wet, bone-jarring thuds. Scattering singed fabric and dust. A collective gasp rippled through the assembled transcendent individuals.

"These..." Jack gestured to the grotesque pile of bodies. "... should be your responsibility. Your 'trouble maker'. They kidnap children. They desecrate what you call holy ground. And they've just killed one of my last living descendants."

The lie was delivered with cold conviction. A calculated stroke to set his narrative. "I wouldn't have moved a spectral finger had these damned cultists not started first. Disrupting my eternal slumber."

Among the robed priests, one stood out. Taller than the rest. With a face almost too perfect. Too serene. Father Valleyer, the high priest.

Jack had already noticed him. His next target. He saw the almost imperceptible distortion in the holy aura around him. That was the artifact around his neck. The necklace. It was doing its job well.

Father Valleyer stepped forward. His voice was like polished steel sheathed in silk. "It's a dangerous spirit. Clearly, one of the malevolent entities seeking to sow discord. Priests! Exorcise this specter! Purge its malign influence from our sacred city!"

Several priests advanced. Ard with gleaming holy symbols and censers that swung with purpose. Incantations filled the smoky air. Resonating with what was supposed to be divine energy.

Beams of pure, shimring light erupted from their hands. Lances of holy power aid directly at Jack.

The light struck him. It washed over his spectral form. Illuminating him with an ethereal, almost beautiful glow. And then, it simply passed through.

Like mist through a sieve. It touched nothing. Affected nothing. Jack remained. Utterly unaffected. His gamble succeeded.

His maxed out Essence attribute and his passive traits: [Mythical Existence], [Mythical Adaptation], and [Dominator Physique]... They gave him resistance that was close to immunity when facing exorcism.

"Oh, this is rich." Jack scoffed. His voice was dripping with feigned outrage and a touch of genuine amusent. "You send your weak little light against ? Against an ancient, wronged spirit? You mock ! You mock the very concept of VENGEANCE!"

His spectral form seed to ripple, expanding slightly. A wave of silent, inexplicable distortion emanated from him. This was [Mysterious Anomaly]. Cloaked in theatrical fury, ready to strike.

His gaze locked onto Father Valleyer. The high priest, for all his practiced composure, had a flicker of unease in his eyes.

Around his neck rested a small, ornate silver necklace. Intricately carved with the sunburst pattern. It pulsed with a faint, almost imperceptible light. The concealing artifact.

Suddenly, without warning, the necklace flew from Valleyer's throat. It didn't float or drift. It was snatched. As if by an invisible hand moving with impossible speed. It zipped directly into Jack's intangible grasp.

"You think this trinket could hide your disgusting stench, Sinner?" Jack mocked.

The mont the necklace left Father Valleyer's neck, the serene façade shattered. His face twisted. The previous subtle distortion in his aura erupted into a hideous, crimson-black aura.

It swirled around him. Reeking of decay and foul magic. The sacred golden light of his priestly robes seed to shrivel and dim under its influence. He was no high priest of Prosperity. He was a creature of corruption. A harbinger of blasphemy.