Chapter 352: The Omen of Hell's Invasion
A forge room was rented.
The three of them dumped out all the cursed relics in one go.
Strictly speaking, these items could be considered magical artifacts, though they leaned heavily toward negative effects.
As long as they were refined by Allen, they could definitely be turned into alchemical tools.
"Fire it up."
"…"
The furnace was lit, ready for processing.
The moment the cursed relics passed through Allen's hands, they instantly broke down into raw materials.
This unbelievable sight left Bruce and Barry completely stunned.
"Is he altering the molecular structure?"
At least Barry was a college graduate with some technical knowledge.
"No idea."
Allen was too focused on his work to respond.
He had no interest in the underlying principles of his abilities—if it worked, that was enough. Digging into the theory was a waste of time.
"Hmm… A videotape."
A deeply buried memory surfaced in his mind.
Allen recognized it as the same tape that had once summoned Sadako. Apparently, similar mediums existed across different universes.
He stuffed it into his waistband, then turned to summoning.
He stayed busy through the night.
Bruce and Barry didn't sleep a wink, witnessing the creation of a suit of black battle armor.
The armor shimmered with streaks of blood-red light across its surface, making it slightly distinct from a standard Batsuit.
"That's one awesome-looking suit."
Bruce reached out to touch it with envy. His fingers felt a chill as they brushed the material.
"It's made for you."
Allen urged, "Bruce, try it on."
"For real?"
Bruce was stunned by the unexpected gesture, touched for the first time by his cheapskate master's thoughtfulness—he'd actually made a custom battle suit for him.
He suited up and posed with hands on his hips.
Barry watched, green with envy.
"Not bad. Kinda has that Dark Knight vibe."
Allen casually explained, "This suit is called Strength Rises to Meet the Strong, the Armor of Unknown Power. I forged it from simple materials. It's an extraordinary item, specialized in countering dark creatures."
"Master, what does it do exactly?" Bruce asked eagerly, rubbing his hands together.
"Please maintain your usual arrogance."
Allen replied indifferently, "Besides looking cool, what else do you want?"
"…"
With that, Bruce immediately understood—it had no actual abilities.
Seeing the look of disappointment, Allen clapped him on the shoulder. "Come on, I wouldn't make a useless piece just for show. Strength Rises to Meet the Strong has a growth feature. As long as you keep slaying demons and evil spirits, it'll absorb their dark energy and unlock various new powers. As for how powerful it can get—well, just like the name implies, even I don't know."
"…"
Well, better to have something than nothing. No point in being picky.
Bruce drew his pig-slaughtering blade, suddenly itching to go out and hack down a few demons.
"Master, do I get one too?" Barry asked expectantly.
Bruce was the senior disciple, and he was the second. He ought to get some gear too—otherwise, it'd be a clear case of favoritism.
"Here's a pair of nunchaku for you."
Allen pulled a pair from under his armpit.
Considering that Barry had gained the Speed Force from him, it seemed dull to keep acting like a marathon runner. It was far more satisfying to knock people out mid-run while time-skipping.
In truth, the Flash was basically a world-reset button. Aside from running fast, he was practically useless.
Barry looked down at the nunchaku with a touch of disappointment, unsure what to feel.
Nunchaku were notoriously hard to handle.
For beginners, they often led to injuries.
At best, you'd end up bruised all over. At worst, you'd break a rib.
"Master, what about your own gear?" Bruce asked curiously.
Since they both had new equipment, Allen couldn't possibly go out empty-handed.
He had already given his pig-slaughtering knife to Bruce.
"I'll manage."
Allen slung a guitar onto his back, flipped his hair with confidence, and said, "I'll play some rock to fire you guys up."
"…"
Just then, Allen's eyes settled on Barry with a deep, mysterious gaze that made Barry's skin crawl.
"Master, what are you planning?" Barry asked nervously. "My preferences are perfectly normal."
"Time to become the Flash again… keh keh keh…" Allen chuckled darkly.
…
In a barren land outside a closed-off country.
There was a pit that had burned continuously for over a hundred years—locals called it the Gate to Hell.
Experts insisted it was just underground natural gas leaking. To prevent the gas from spreading and endangering nearby residents, they had set it ablaze to stop the emission.
At this moment, a perimeter had been set up around the Gate to Hell.
Troops were stationed around it, maintaining round-the-clock surveillance.
Heavy weaponry had even been deployed, indicating this wasn't as simple as it looked.
In truth, this was indeed a gateway to Hell—sealed over a century ago at great cost by various factions.
"Point One reporting increased paranormal fluctuations."
Ellie furrowed her brows as she studied the readings.
Strange phenomena had begun occurring around the globe days earlier.
For example: flocks of crows crashing into church walls, waves of dead fish washing up on beaches, entire forests withering overnight…
Events like these—beyond scientific explanation—were countless, perfectly matching apocalyptic omens described in various cultures.
"Does anyone have any suggestions?"
Among the invited consultants were the Warrens, senior clergy from the church, mystics with supernatural powers, and tribal shamans.
They all murmured among themselves but gave no concrete answers.
After all, they were only used to handling a demon or spirit at a time. Facing an entire demonic invasion was well beyond their capacity.
"Maybe… use a nuke?" the army commander suggested bluntly.
Hmm…
Very classic Amerika thinking—can't solve it? Drop a nuke.
Ellie challenged him, "General, can you be sure a nuclear bomb would kill demons?"
"…"
He certainly couldn't guarantee that. Radiation could kill humans, sure—but demons?
"Sir, we have a situation!"
A soldier monitoring the screens called out.
All eyes turned to the projected display, where the once-still Gate to Hell now surged with blazing flames.
The troops stationed nearby immediately retreated a safe distance.
The searing heat was unbearable. Even the camera feeds flickered from interference.
Moments later, several figures flew out of the Gate.
They had bat-like wings, dark crimson skin, horns on their foreheads, and horrifying faces.
"Demons!"
Everyone gasped in shock.
Real, honest-to-God demons—standing before them.
The flying fiends scanned the humans from the air as if looking at ants, then split up and scattered across the globe.
"This is bad."
A clergy member shot to his feet. "These demons are a vanguard—they're going to unseal the ancient Demon Lords imprisoned across the world!"
Over a century ago, the demon-hunting wars had lasted hundreds of years. Most demons were driven back to Hell. The strongest Demon Lords were sealed away on Earth by various means.
And now, the world no longer had exorcists strong enough to match the past.