Chapter 29 - The Beast, the Angel, and the Forest Fire

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Chapter 29 - The Beast, the Angel, and the Forest Fire


Misery loves company.

But the way things ran, Devon preferred if he was alone on this errand. If not for Hank being the loud-mouthed and homophobic demigod that he was, they wouldn't even be attacked-or even be noticed-by a group of Banshees who seemed to be having a casual, hungry campfire in one of the forests in the Celtic Universe.

The place was a never-ending paradise for nature lovers, no more signs of "Stop cutting trees!" or "Don't burn down the forest!" Because apparently, the place was already a never-ending forest when you're on the borders. Each city or municipality was divided by thick orchards of trees before either a stone-age, Earth-like, or futuristic age civilization came before your eyes.

Neither of the three appeared in Devon and Hank's case.

Instead, they took an annoyingly loud crash-thanks to Hank-in a colony of Banshees, loud Celtic creatures who loved screaming and wailing and eventually bleeding your ears off.

The wind created by Hank was enough to block the sounds in Devon's ears. The thunder crashing and the annoying wail of Banshees battled for his eardrums. It was like Cora in one of her battle cries, except this one had a higher pitch, more on moaning, and was way more annoying.

If the Banshees thought they sounded terrifying, they were so freaking wrong.

"Do something, you idiot!" Hank said as his arms were stretched out as the strong weather currents became even stronger.

The nimbus clouds above both of them turned darker, and the lightning that flashed became more frequent.

"Banshees weren't supposed to be this threatening!" Devon replied through the harsh weather, "They were just messengers from the Celtic Underworld."

He was sure that the Aztec demigod rolled his eyes. "Well, thank you for the information, human. Now, why don't you just make a proper use of yourself instead of trying to discover fire?"

The wind currents became stronger, as the Banshees tried to get near them was either blown away or was forced to stand still. The campsite where the Banshees were was destroyed, flaps of the tents flew around, the poles of it began flying across the place as some of it impaled some Banshees. The wood that was once burned up turned wet and moist as the rain brought by Hank.

That demigod may be an asshole, but he was one strong asshole.

Turning to where the poles were, Devon used his telekinetic abilities to begin lifting them away one by one. And Hank, as if he knew what he was going to do, began to lower the wind strength and began flashing lightning in a more threatening way.

The Banshee's white dresses began gliding away from the scene, both old or young, with their wet black, gray, or pure white hair, they began to fled the scene as fast as they could, bringing wails of pure agony with them. But Hank began to stop their movements by trying to restrict them with lightning.

Soon enough, the Banshees began huddling together in a small circle, trying to escape them with loud moans. There was absolutely nothing threatening about the Banshees, except they were loud, and were so annoying that you cannot leave them wailing around unless you willed to be discovered.

Devon laid his palm on the ground, pushing a strong pulse of power towards his palm as huge crystals made of pure obsidian began appearing in the ground, surrounding the Banshees like a makeshift prison-as the wailing creatures watched themselves moan through the shiny black stone.

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