“Kael…” Greg gnawed at the inside of his cheek. “You’re the one who hired the alchemists. Why?”

  He made a hissing noise and winced. “Mmmm…more of a proxy.” Kael jerked his head to the side. “Away from the goods, please.”

  Greg kept his eyes locked on him even as his mind raced. This didn’t make any sense. Even if they’d come up with some version of Frost that could turn a person into…whatever that woman was now, why?

  “You’ve left me in quite the situation here, Baby Greg.” Kael scraped the edge of the dagger up and down Maeve’s throat. “I really don’t like killing people, but I can’t exactly leave the two of you alive, can I?”

  “She’s not a part of this.” Greg shook his head. “Just let her go back through the portal…”

  “So she can go get your buddy Brannoc Stroud?” Kael scoffed. “Not a fucking chance. I can handle the two of you with my eyes closed. He’d rip my anus through my mouth before I had the chance to scream.”

  “She won’t.”

  “Oh, really?” Kael slapped his forehead with his free hand. “Well fuck, why didn’t you just say that. I’ll just let her go then.” He grabbed the back of her neck and pushed her forward, digging the blade of his dagger into her neck before yanking her back against him again. “Of course she will. You think I’m some kind of idiot?”

  Greg bit his lip hard, glancing at his gauges.

  Volatility: 12 of 100

  Divine Resonance: 0 of 100

  Demonic Resonance: 0 of 100

  “Nah, I’ve got a better plan for your little girlfriend here.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a tiny, nearly transparent blue bead. “Let's see what fun mutations she gets, shall we?”

  “No!” Greg took a single step forward, only for Kael to slam his boot into the ground. A pillar of rock and dirt shot out from in front of him, colliding with his chest and sending him flying back. The air shot out of his lungs on impact with the mossy ground, and he slid several more feet until his head collided with another hollow trunk.

  "Open wide.”

  He could hear Kael speak, but his spinning head would not allow him to pinpoint from which direction. Greg forced himself to his feet, stumbling, blinking, and shaking his head to try to clear the stars from his vision. His forefinger and thumb were pinching Maeve’s nose closed with the rest of his hand covering her mouth.

  He’d already fed it to her.

  “Swallow!” he snarled at Maeve, slamming his foot down again to send another pillar of rock at Greg.

  He was able to narrowly avoid it this time, almost losing his footing anyway on his unsteady trudge toward him. In his heart, he knew there was nothing he could do. Even if he made it over there before the Frost was in Maeve’s system, he was no match for Kael. As soon as he got into range, he scanned the man—hoping against hope that it revealed some sort of exploitable weakness.

  Scanning…

  Kael “Vessel of the Inexpressable” Vireth

  Level 24 Abyssal Geomancer

  Strength: 15

  Dexterity: 38

  Constitution: 27

  Wisdom: 29

  Intelligence: 35

  Charisma: 44

  Luck: 10

  No buffs currently active.

  It, of course, did not reveal anything helpful. Only the fact that once he got over there, he was going to get his ass kicked, and most likely have to watch Maeve die…or worse. He pushed forward regardless.

  “There we go,” Kael said, just loud enough for him to hear, lifting the dagger to dance it along Maeve’s throat as she swallowed.

  “Down the hatch.” He let go of her suddenly, kicking her in the back and sending her tumbling end over end.

  “Maeve…” His head was starting to clear, but it was too late. His eyes snapped up, nostrils flared and twitching. “I’ll fucking kill you!”

  “Probably not.” Kael chortled as he rolled up his sleeves casually, tucking them neatly at his elbows. “I’ll leave you alive long enough to watch her turn, though. Hows tha…”

  A blur of black armor emerged from behind the tree nearest him, and with it a blade of shimmering green. Were it not for his speed far outclassing Greg’s and whoever this new ally was, the swing would have taken his head clean off. He’d managed to lean back nearly forty-five degrees fast enough for the blow to pass harmlessly over his head.

  A battlecry rose from her throat, and she let her own momentum take her in a circle, auburn hair twirling as she brought the enormous sword down on him again. The woman had caught Kael by surprise, but he would soon outclass her as well.

  He needed to help...but Maeve. His eyes jittered between the fight and his friend, twitching on the ground.

  “If you don’t take care of him, you’ll all die here. I’m sorry, Greg,” Isabella whispered to him.

  She was right, of course, but he couldn’t just leave her there. He dropped to his knees near Maeve’s head, tears welling even as he started to shake with rising fury.

  “You hang in there, Maeve.” He kissed the top of her head. “We’ve got adventuring to do. You can’t leave me now.” He whispered before pushing himself to his feet. He took a deep breath and sprinted forward.

  Kael had taken the advantage with ease, taking the offensive with a pair of stone gauntlets. The woman parried what blows she could with the sword, but strikes were getting through, leaving her retreating between trees.

  He’d hoped for a better approach, but sacrificed stealth for expediency. Bounding forward, he slashed down then up at the arms with alternating flame and radiant strikes. The flame had hit, granting a pop up notification that he briefly read before Isabella threw it aside.

  Flame Strike applied Burning Blood to Kael Vireth.

  Before his radiant strike had made purchase, stones flew up from the ground to parry his rapier and orbit Kael. Greg continued layer in quick strikes between the larger, more powerful swings of the woman who’d come to their aid. He’d hardly laid eyes on her, and yet it felt like he’d been fighting with her for years.

  “Well, this is hardly fair.” Kael grumbled as if he were being ganged up on by a group of toddlers. “What say we even the odds?”

  The stones orbiting him suddenly shot out in all directions, missing him entirely, and judging by the flash of emerald as Kael dodged another swing, his partner as well. It took a moment for Greg to realize that they were not his targets.

  This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

  He stopped following Kael as tree trunks started oozing viscous azure liquid. The cracking started quiet. One ahead of him. Another behind. Soon wood was splintering all around them. His beasts were waking up. He glanced over at his companion, who was staring at him with wide, violet eyes swirling with yellow.

  “Greg?”

  His jaw hung open, goose pimples rising all over his body. She was here. Those weren’t her eyes, but his eyes weren’t his eyes either. She was really here. Her beautiful auburn hair curtaining her heart-shaped face. The little mole under her eye.

  “Autumn…how?”

  “Behind you!” She snapped.

  Slimy, too-many-knuckled fingers wrapped around his neck.

  Greg spun, swinging Light Drinker in a wild arc as something bit into the base of his skull. The rapier passed through soggy flesh and flimsy bone in a single slice. The forearm flopped against his chest as it separated from the horror’s body, an eye on the wrist blinked up at him curiously.

  “OoOohhh fuck that.” Greg snatched up the remnant of the arm that was still connected to the back of his neck and ripped it off, stomping it into the ground.

  “He’s running away.” Isabella warned him, pinging the white dot retreated from the circle of ever increasing red dots. “I’d suggest letting him go.”

  A little box popped up suddenly.

  Autumn Claskey has invited you to a party.

  Accept?

  Yes/No

  “Well, that’s unexpected.”

  Autumn was here. Really here. They were surrounded by what he could only assume were drug fueled eldritch horrors. Then Maeve. Fuck, there was too much happening. He accepted the invitation as he drove his blade into the drooping face of the monstrosity that had attacked him.

  More and more of the monsters close in. Hideous, deformed humanoid bodies of varying species. They were naked and hairless as the day they were born, but covered in glowing eyes and drooling maws. The ones that still had limbs could hardly call them arms and legs anymore. The appendages that hadn’t turned completely to muscular tentacles cracked and contorted at awkward angles as they shambled over one another to get to their prey.

  Volatility: 30 of 100

  Divine Resonance: 44 of 100

  Demonic Resonance: 47 of 100

  “Go get your friend out of here!” Autumn yelled as she charged into one of the monstrosities, sending it tumbling back into another two and then set into a tight twirl with the enormous green sword extended.

  “I’m not going to just leave you out here!” He snapped back at her, a spray of blue goo splattering cross his face from the carnage she created. Whatever had happened to her, she was obviously now much more suited to fighting in these conditions. While Greg was doing his best, his skill set really didn’t thrive against masses of monsters.

  “We can talk through my party interface! Just get her out of here while you can!”

  Greg bit down hard on his lip. If he could get her to Brannoc…maybe he could do something. Or one of the justicars? The one that revived Miles Rillon. Surely they could do something.

  “I’ll be back as soon as I can!” Greg called out as he started to carve his way through the mob, using a volatile step to close the distance once he got to her. He nearly collapsed just trying to lift her. The woman was made of solid muscle and certainly felt that way. He heaved her over his shoulder and glanced at the minimap to make sure he was moving toward the portal.

  “I’ll be right behind you.” Autumn’s voice echoed in his mind, making his eyes go wide.

  Certainly the fuck not! One lady in his head was more than enough.

  It took him an embarrassingly long time to realize it must be a function of her party interface thing she’d invited him with. If she could talk directly into his mind, he wondered if she’d be able to hear Isabella. He stabbed and kicked his way through the stragglers that hadn’t encircled them and then groaned as he heaved Maeve up and into the portal.

  He dove over the half of her body he’d not been able to get through and into the portal himself, landing on his ass and pulling her out the remainder of the way. She did not look good. The people of Rhobair rarely saw the sun, but this was a pale that he was very much uncomfortable with. Her lips were starting to turn blue, and the tattoos on the side of her head were fading.

  Greg grabbed her under the arms and drug her out of the warehouse. He needed help. Somebody had to be around.

  It was still too early.

  There were probably dock workers near the water, but no one in the warehouses at this time.

  Wait…

  He was being followed.

  “Help!” he called out. “I know you’re following me! We need help!”

  Greg continued to yell out into the empty air until, out of the corner of his eye, he spotted someone peek around the edge of the building.

  “She doesssn’t look good.” A lizardfolk stepped toward her and tilted his head. He could not have stood more than three feet tall and rail thin with dark purple scales.

  “You’re the one they have following me? Can you get the justicars? Or—or Brannoc Stroud?” Greg breathed out, stumbling over his words as he tried to get them out as fast as he could.

  The little lizardfolk shook his head and clicked his tongue against his teeth. “Not fassst enough, I think. She needs healing now.”

  Greg suddenly dropped Maeve the short distance to the ground and swept the little guy up by the collar of his armor. His whole body shook as he brought him in close, staring into his stormcloud-like eyes. “Go get help…now!” Greg growled and dropped the man before going back to Maeve.

  The lizardfolk vanished again as Greg scooped up Maeve and started jogging out of the docks. He wasn’t sure if the man was going to get help or not, either way, he couldn’t just sit there with her. He needed to move. Get to Brannoc. He’d know what to do.

  Maeve started to convulse about ten minutes into his jog. He’d garnered some strange looks from a few people, but no one that could help him. The jelly that had replaced his legs threatened to give out at any moment, but he continued to push forward. Praying had never been a thing he’d done. Even when his father was on his deathbed…talking to God felt like a waste of good oxygen. The gods here were real, though. If the people wouldn’t help him…maybe Maeve’s Mother Below would.

  “Ruarth…Mother Below,” Greg gasped out, still moving toward Brannoc’s house. “I don’t know if you’re the one who summoned me. Maeve worshiped you. Her father was one of yours. You have to help her!”

  His left shoulder suddenly gave out, and a searing pain shocked across the same side of his face, stemming from the icy blue eye. Greg collapsed, Maeve’s heavy body landing like dead weight on his chest. He gasped for air, but found it suddenly crisp, like taking in an early morning frost.

  “You’ve got some nerve.” A barefoot stopped beside his face, and he glanced up at a woman in what looked like a toga. “Demanding things of the Mother.”

  Even without the halo hovering over her head, he’d have recognized the blond hair and slight smile anywhere.

  “You fucking stabbed me.” Greg grunted out, trying to roll Maeve off his chest.

  “My Lady required a champion.” She said and lifted her palm just slightly off her hip. Her index finger twitched upward, and Maeve’s body slowly eased off of him, hovering in the air.

  “Can you…? Please…She’s my best friend. She can’t go out like this.”

  “No,” the woman said flatly. Her smile didn’t fade, but there was no emotion behind it. “I’m forbidden from interfering. You can help her, though.”

  “Fucking how? Tell me what to do!”

  “Hand over half of your power.” One of her brows rose slightly as her eyes finally left Maeve to look at him. “If you relinquish your demonic power to me, I can put it into her. It should be enough to fight off the corruption.”

  “Fine! Take it!”

  “Woah, easy now.” Another voice announced. Searing pain took his right shoulder this time as a crimson hand with black talon-like nails gently stroked it as he walked by. His dark horns and slicked back hair were the same, but he’d ditched the fancy business suit he’d had in Jinty McGinty’s bathroom in favor of a black suede jacket. “We had a deal.” He addressed the woman.

  “Remember what I told you about Celestials? These are Deva. A hundred times worse. Don’t trust anything they say.” Isabella spoke into his mind, followed by the answer to a previous question.

  “Uhhh…who is that? How did you get into this chat channel?” Autumn’s voice came right after.

  “I was afraid she’d be able to hear me. That’s not good.”

  “Our deal was to get Mr. Norwood to Etheon and provide his powers. What happens to him after was not stipulated in the details.” The female Deva countered.

  “Hello? Greg? Answer me,” Autumn sounded off.

  “That is nonsense, and you know it. If he should be giving up any power for one of your Mother’s worshipers it should be hers.” The crimson skinned man countered.

  “ENOUGH!”

  There was too much talking. Too much arguing. Not enough saving Maeve. He knelt down, setting his hands on the cold, clammy cheeks of his friend. “Hold on, Maeve…just a little bit longer.” He scooped her up again, having regained a nominal amount of strength, and started walking away.

  “Ummm…Where are you going?” The pale blond Deva called out to him. “You can’t save her without us.”

  “I can’t save her with you either. Go play tug of war with someone else.” He didn’t bother turning back to look at them. Just run. Get to Brannoc.

  Strength was not an area in which he excelled. So, when Maeve started violently shaking again, he’d had to slow down significantly or risk losing his grip of her entirely.

  He was too far away.

  He’d barely covered half the distance to Brannoc’s.

  Just as he was thinking he’d never make it in time, a blur of movement shifted in front of him. An enormous wolf bounding down the road…with a lizardfolk on his back. It must have been eight feet tall, and far faster than even he could move. Greg hadn’t even realized he’d stopped moving until the wolf slid to a stop in front of him, its form shifting from enormous and furry to slightly less enormous and utterly naked Brannoc Stroud.

  ? Overpowers: Magical Girl Crossover [Grimlight Psychological/Genre based Power System] ?

  by Moawar

  He, Life, had a simple job.

  His responsibility as an Overpower was to make sure that fiction stories and the characters in them follow their dictated path. He always did his job well enough, not more or less than was needed.

  His latest assignment, however, would, in retrospect, prove to be his most challenging one of all.

  He would find himself in a unfamiliar world. There he'll have to quickly adapt to guide Nozomi.

  The strongest magical girl with the potential to accidentally destroy those she seeks to protect in her fight against evil.

  What to Expect:

  -If you like the psychological aspects of Madoka Magica and the mixing of different genres a crossover story brings then this story is for you