Reincarnated as a Supernatural Horror Entity

Judge Jack stomped forward. The ground was cracking under his immense weight. 

The Lava Devil was still caught in Reina's [Fog Maze]. It swung a burning arm towards a phantom in different direction. Jack stepped through the dissipating mist. Directly into its blind spot.

He raised the Judgement Warhammer. Primordial Energy, ancient and raw, pulsed along its head. Making the air crackle. He brought it down with a thunderous roar. A targeted strike designed to break the enemy.

The Warhammer slammed into the Lava Devil's knee. There was no explosion of molten rock. Instead, a turbulent vortex of energy erupted at the impact point. 

Spatial cracks spiderwebbed across the devil's leg. Like tiny, jagged fissures in reality itself. The solidified lava began to warp. Not melting into its liquid form. But twisting. Collapsing inwards under an impossible pressure.

The Lava Devil shrieked. A sound of agony and incomprehension. It tried to shift to liquid. But the Primordial Energy was disrupting its very essence. Its damage ignored the state transformation. It was being torn apart at a fundamental level.

Judge Jack didn't stop. He unleashed a flurry of blows. 

The Judgement Warhammer was a blur of immense force. It struck again and again. Each strike opened new spatial cracks within the devil's body. New turbulent vortices. 

The Lava Devil was unable to defend or reform. It began to crumble. Its immense form shuddered violently. Chunks of it didn't just break off. They imploded. Disintegrating into nothingness. The crimson lava in its eyes flickered. Dimmed.

With a final, earth-shattering roar, the Lava Devil convulsed. Judge Jack delivered a decisive, overhead strike. The Judgement Warhammer, imbued with overwhelming Primordial power, cleaved through its chest. 

The turbulent vortex expanded exponentially. Swallowing the colossal creature whole. In a flash of raw, destructive energy, the Lava Devil exploded. 

Not with fire and brimstone. But with a silent devastating implosion that left only a crater of pulverized rock and a lingering scent of burnt soil.

The [Summoning Barrier] around Captain Bloodfire flickered violently. Then dissipated into thin air. The pirate captain stood exposed. His face contorted in disbelief and dawning terror. His creature, his impenetrable shield, was gone.

"N-no! Impossible!" Captain Bloodfire stammered. His bravado vanished. He spun on his heel. Intent on fleeing. He burst into a short, desperate sprint. Towards the docks, where his ship could offer an escape.

But he never made it.

Reina had finished watching the destruction of the devil with cold satisfaction. She was already in motion. As the pirate captain took his third stride, her form blurred. 

She teleported. One moment, she was twenty meters away. The next, she was directly behind him. A whisper of dark mist accompanying her instantaneous arrival.

Her hand was holding a slender, wicked-looking dagger. It flashed out. Plunging deep into Captain Bloodfire's back. Between his ribs. A precise, fatal strike aimed at the heart.

Her old signature move. When she was still Queen Mirage. The deadly backstab...

Captain Bloodfire gasped. A gurgling sound as blood bubbled from his lips. His momentum carried him forward a few more steps. But his eyes were wide, vacant. 

He stumbled. Then collapsed. Face-first. Onto the cracked cobblestones.

Silence descended upon the square. Broken only by the distant cries of the remaining pirates being rounded up by the invigorated town defenders. 

Judge Jack had started his minute-long transformation back to Jack Night. He looked at Reina.

She stood over the fallen captain. Her dagger glinting in the pale moonlight. She wiped the blade clean on his black leather outfit. Her expression was calm as always.

"Nice job, Love." Jack commented in a strange voice. As he said so while his head was transforming from rakshasa form into human form. 

"Yours is more remarkable, Dear." Reina said. Practical as ever. "Using that form was indeed an efficient way to solve hard to face problem."

Jack managed a faint, satisfied grunt. As his form kept shimmering and beginning to shrink. He knew. It always was.

...

Jack glanced at the dead pirate. Then at the moonlit square. The night air was slowly clearing of gunpowder smoke and the metallic tang of blood. 

His adrenaline was receding. Leaving behind the slight dull ache that came with heavy exertion. He flexed his hands. Feeling the familiar weight of his weapons. The Steamrune Shotgun he held. And the twin handguns holstered at his hips. 

The world felt right again. Even after such chaos.

...

Three days later... 

The remnants of the pirate attack had been cleared. Calmcoast Town was already buzzing with reconstruction efforts. Its resilience was evident. 

Jack and Reina had stayed long enough to ensure the situation stabilized. Contributing their combat expertise to the mop-up operations. And their pragmatic advice to the friendly town council. 

But their vacation was over. Lonestone Capital City awaited.

...

The hoverbike, a sleek beast of metallic parts and steamrune engineering, hummed to life beneath Jack. Reina settled behind him. Her arms wrapping around his waist. Her face was resting against his back. The journey began.

They didn't take the normal road. Choosing wilderness shortcut instead.

The first two days were peaceful. Almost unnervingly so. They traversed verdant plains. Skirted ancient, silent forests. And crossed winding rivers on bridges that seemed to defy gravity. 

The hoverbike glided effortlessly over varied terrain. Its engines let out a steady, reassuring thrum. 

Jack enjoyed the off-road travel. The fresh unpolluted air. The wind in his hair. The endless horizon. 

Reina, ever observant, pointed out interesting geological formations. And rare flora. Her knowledge of the natural world surprised him at times. 

Other than Reina's narration on those interesting things, they spoke little. Content in each other's presence. The quiet understanding was a testament to their unique bond.

Their serene journey shattered on the third morning. The cause was a low, guttural rumble preceded a thunderous explosion that shook the very air around them. 

It came from the west. A column of black smoke already rising against the clear sky. Marring the picturesque landscape.

Jack instinctively veered the hoverbike towards the disturbance. He pushed the engines. The hum was escalating to a powerful roar as they sped across the plains. 

Something catastrophic had happened. His gut tightened. Innocent lives were likely in danger. And, those who needed judgement might be there. Threatening the safety of the innocent.

As they drew closer, the scene unfolded like a nightmare. It was a train, or what was left of it. It lay mangled and off its tracks. Carriages were overturned. Twisted metal jutting at odd angles. Some still smoldering. 

The air was filled with the acrid stench of burnt oil, metal, blood, and something else—something distinctly organic and foul.

Screams, sharp and terrified, pierced the mechanical groans of the dying train.

Jack slowed the hoverbike. Bringing it to a halt a safe distance from the wreckage. He dismounted first. His hand already drew on his Steamrune Shotgun. 

Reina was a shadow beside him. Her black hair swaying as she surveyed the chaos. She also took out her grimoire and dagger.

"Demons," Jack stated, his voice flat. He pointed. "Cockroaches."

Indeed. Scuttling across the debris. Swarming the overturned carriages. It was a horde of grotesque creatures. They were small humanoid creatures. No more than a meter tall. With hard, chitinous exoskeletons, beady black eyes, and twitching antennae. 

Their movements were jerky. Erratic. Like oversized insects. But their posture was disturbingly humanoid. 

They wielded crude, sharpened bone weapons. And their guttural chittering filled the air. A truly repulsive sound.

Survivors, a handful of terrified civilians, were huddled near a half-intact carriage. Desperately fending off the onslaught. 

A man with a bloodied arm swung a piece of twisted pipe. A woman, clutching two small children, jabbed frantically with a broken broom handle. They were clearly outmatched. Their numbers dwindling with each passing moment.

"Love! I'm using scattershot. Don't stay anywhere in front of me." Jack warned. Already moving. His Steamrune Shotgun came up. The safety clicking off with an audible snick.

"Understood, Dear." Reina's voice was calm. A stark contrast to the escalating chaos. A faint, arcane glow emanated from her grimoire as she began to channel her magic.

Jack sprinted. Closing the distance from the side. He aimed his shotgun at the densest cluster of cockroach-men. The ones attempting to breach the survivors' makeshift barricade. 

Boom! The scattershot roared. A wide cone of superheated pellets tore through the chitinous bodies. Several of the creatures exploded in a burst of vile black ichor and shattered carapace.

The remaining cockroach-men turned. Their beady eyes were fixed on the new threat. They chittered. An angry, rattling sound. And they surged forward.

"Watch out!" A survivor yelled. Despair was in his voice.

Jack fired again. Blasting several more creatures apart. Then, before the swarm could fully envelop him, he activated his [Chains of Vengeance]. 

Three flaming chains shot out from his bracers. Glowing with an ethereal red tint. They wrapped around a trio of the cockroach-men. Yanking them off their feet. And smashing them toward other enemies with sickening crunches. 

The creatures, though small, were surprisingly durable. Their shells could deflect some of the less focused shotgun blasts. But not the concussive force of the chains smash.

Reina was a whirlwind of precision behind him. Her [Magic Missiles] were a normal beginner attack spell. But in her hands, they were refined into shimmering, needle-like projectiles. 

Zap! Zap! Zap! 

Each missile found its mark. Piercing the weak points of the cockroach-men's heads or eye-stalks. 

The creatures shrieked. Twitching violently before collapsing. Their legs were splaying uncontrollably. She didn't waste a single spell. Her focus was absolute.