Heroine Creation: All My Summons Are Custom Made

”SPECTRA! NO!”

Astensia yelled urgently. She quickly transformed her Blessed Blade, melting and stretching it until she no longer held a sword but a long, gleaming chain.

She hurled it.

The Blessed Chain shot across the chamber like a striking serpent, uncoiling through the smoke-filled air.

Spectra was already at the screen, her hand plunged wrist-deep into the rippling black surface, the Gloomfire around her fingers hissing against the magical membrane. The watery portal rippled violently around her intrusion, red light and black water swirling together.

The chain wrapped around her waist with a sound like a lock clicking shut.

Astensia planted her feet and pulled.

Spectra’s body jerked backward, her hand tearing free of the screen with a wet, ripping sound. Droplets of black ichor scattered across the floor, almost burning a hole through where they fell.

She was dragged back three feet, her boots scraping grooves into the stone, but she did not stop. Her free hand clawed at the air, reaching for the screen, and her body kept straining forward against the chains, forcing herself toward Baal’s face inch by agonizing inch.

She looked back at Astensia, her crimson eyes wild, her teeth bared. A guttural groan escaped her throat as she fought against the bindings.

”What are you doing?!” she roared at Astensia furiously.

Astensia held the chain tight. ”Saving you from yourself!”

”Noooo!” Spectra growled, her head whipping back toward the screen. Her eyes locked onto Baal once more. ”BAAL!!!”

On the screen, Baal’s scowl defined hatred. His deep red eyes still could not fully believe it was seeing. Spectra Hexerra, the human who chained his brother, was alive.

That shock infuriated him the more, making the entire chamber tremble under his rage.

Spectra kept fighting the chains, trying to transform to her Demon form to burst free. But the Gloom overdose from her battle with the Purgatory Demons was still ravaging her internal channels, so her control was fractured.

One moment her skin was pale and human, the next it flushed dull pink as the transformation tried to take hold. Her horns began to push from her forehead, then retracted. Her fingers elongated into claws, then shrank back.

She was glitching uncontrollably. The fractured channel that Espel had sealed was holding, but her system still needed lots of rest.

”BAAL!!!!”

His name tore from her throat again, her rage becoming a madness.

”Lancet!” Astensia called, her arms straining as Spectra pulled harder against the chains. ”Help me!”

Lancet raised his voice. ”Spectra. Listen to me, you can’t fight Baal now,” he tried to warn her. ”If you do, you’ll die. You’re not strong enough. Please, stand down!”

”Get out of my way!” Spectra snarled, but the words cracked at the edges. The Gloomfire around her hand sputtered.

Thor chimed in. ”Listen to our Master, Demoness. We need you here. Your anger does nothing now. It’s just fire with no target.”

But Spectra kept growling, her pain and anger too much. ”I’m coming for you, Baal! I will cut off that cow head of yours and roast you to steak with my Gloomfire.” Her voice rose, cracking with emotion. ”Do you hear me, Baal?! I will find you! I will—”

Braavas, forgotten in the chaos, had risen from the debris. He burst forward and swung the blade-staff.

It caught Spectra in the ribs with a powerful force, the dark energy blast sent her hurtling sideways. The Blessed Chain snapped free as she flew across the chamber, crashing through a stone pillar and into the far wall.

The stone cratered around her. Spectra slumped, dazed, the Gloomfire extinguished.

Before anyone could react, Braavas turned and brought the blade-staff down on the screen, slashing it twice and shattering the black mirror into shards of obsidian.

Red ichor splashed everywhere and the roots around it convulsed and then went still. The ritualistic slob that had framed the screen sloughed off the wall in wet, dead clumps.

Baal’s terrible face flickered for one final time before vanishing.

The chamber fell into absolute silence. Every eye in the room was locked on the Demon Head.

It turned to look at them, black goo dripping down the edge of the giant blade-staff. ”Hmph,” he grunted.

Thor glared at the beast with new rage, tightening her hammer grip. ”You shouldn’t have done that,” she whispered.

Suddenly, like a lightning spear, she crossed the distance between herself and the Demon Head in a single, instantaneous burst and slammed into the Demon Head’s chest.

Its massive frame was launched backward, crashing through the already-damaged outer wall in an explosion of stone and corrupted mortar. The two of them—the thunder goddess and the Demon Head—hurtled out into the open air above Deathrock.

Espel and Lancet rushed to Spectra immediately. The Entropy Healer dropped to her knees beside the fallen Demoness, her Bloomwings already streaming from her palms in clouds of soft pink light. They settled on Spectra’s ribs where the blade-staff had struck, and the deep bruising began to fade.

”Go,” Spectra rasped, pushing at Lancet’s arm. Her eyes were still fixed on the broken screen, but her voice was steadier now. ”Go. Kill him. I’ll be fine.”

Lancet hesitated for only a moment. Then he nodded and rose.

Kestrel was already at the shattered window. She glanced back once, her sharp eyes assessing Spectra’s condition, then vaulted out into the open air. The emerald dragon spectre materialized beneath her, catching her on its serpentine back and carrying her into the fray.

Astensia paused at Spectra’s side. She looked down at the Demoness — a woman who she had not trusted when they first met. Spectra looked at her. ”What are you waiting for, gold knight?”

Astensia didn’t say anything. She just turned and leaped through the broken wall, golden light trailing behind her.

Thor and the Demon Head flew through the air, the wind screaming past them both. Far below, the corpse-strewn battlefield and the corrupted streets of Deathrock spread out like a map of devastation.

Despite still being thrown by the force of Thor’s attack, the Demon Head changed trajectory with a powerful kick of his legs, using the jagged spinal spike on his back to cut through the air.

He raised the blade-staff above his head, both hands gripping the black iron shaft, and brought it down in a vertical chop meant to split Thor from crown to sternum.

Thor swung her hammer from below before the blade even reached her.

Thunder Uppercut!

Steel and lightning hit the underside of his snout-like jaw with a crack that echoed across the sky.

The impact was devastating. Blue-white electricity exploded on contact, and the Demon’s head snapped back, rows of yellow teeth clacking together as black ichor sprayed from his mouth.

His massive body was launched upward and backward, spinning end over end through the air, the blade-staff nearly flying from his grip.

He caught himself fifty feet higher, roaring with pain and fury. The coral growths on his shoulder pulsed, and dark energy gathered around his claws.

His bulging eye fixed on Thor with murderous intent. The coral growths on his shoulder pulsed, and dark energy gathered around them. He thrust one clawed hand forward, and a blast of condensed Gloom — thick as tar and twice as toxic — screamed toward her.

Thor spun in the air, dodging the dangerous energy. But the Demon charged right away.

Once it was close enough, it swung the blade-staff at her, forcing Thor to duck under it. It followed with another, then another, its strikes coming faster now, the obsidian blade a dark blur as it pressed the attack.

Thor weaved and blocked, her hammer meeting each strike with bursts of lightning, the shockwaves rippling outward in visible rings.

The Demon Head was powerful enough to make her bones vibrate with each collision. But Thor could feel that it was not as powerful as the one she had fought in Hebthej.

It made sense that the Second World would place a weaker Demon Head in charge of this place, since they hadn’t been expecting any intruders.

One swing caught Thor’s shoulder pauldron and sent her spinning. Another nearly took her leg. The Head took the battle to her, driving her back through the air with relentless aggression, his mismatched eyes blazing with desperate fury.

But when it charged at her and swung the blade down, Thor reached up and stopped it mid-air.

CLING!

She peeked at the Demon from the side of the blade. ”My turn.”