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Unfinished (TPD) Chapter 14: Triple Threat (2)
🕑 Added 2024-11-18 07:00:06 +0000 UTCChapter 14: Triple Threat (2)
AN: This chapter is taking a lot longer than I expected, so I'm releasing part 1of it early for you Patrons. The full thing will be out when part 2 and 3 of this chapter is done.
(Third Person)
Sylas’s army finally had Mortis within their line of sight, the large, towering walls that kept the contents of the city safe on display for all to see in the distance.
But in spite of that, not a single soldier paid any heed to the defenses in front of them.
For they were of no consequence, in comparison to what stood right in front of them at the moment.
One man.
He had black hair and violet eyes like every Fallen Angel.
He boasted an impressively tall and muscular physique, reminding Avalon of Captain Nox to an extent.
He sported a wildish beard like a Viking, and wore black armor with gilded lining, accompanied by a long black cape flowing down his back.
And to top it all off, he wore a comical looking helmet with a motif of an eagle, had a shield in one hand, and an axe in the other.
He hadn’t uttered a word since approaching Sylas’s army, simply standing in front of them with his arms folded, and a curious expression hidden underneath his helm.
Yet for some reason, even his seemingly relaxed demeanor was more than enough to cause the Bael Clan’s soldiers to sweat bullets. Furthered by the sound of rattling caused by their shaky hands and the weapons they wielded.
Slowly, the Fallen Angel started to raise his hand, pointing his index finger at Sylas.
“You’re not the one,” his voice was deep and hoarse. Sylas’s soldiers all shifted in a nervous manner upon hearing it.
He guided his arms towards the left, his finger eventually landing on the figure standing in front of Sylas.
He didn’t utter a word, instead choosing to let out a faint chuckle and grinning.
“The Strongest Knight in the Underworld, Souji Okita in the flesh.” The Fallen Angel sniffed the air, his grin continuing to stretch. “The scent of a Youkai, I see, so you really do keep them inside your body after all.”
‘Great, now I have to deal with yet another misunderstanding.’ Avalon grumbled.
‘Your path is pretty much the same as Souji’s at the moment, it’s inevitable that people will get the two of you mixed up with one another.’ Tomoe replied.
In hindsight, it didn’t really matter if the enemy wasn’t aware of who he was, as a matter of fact it could serve as an advantage in some situations. Therefore Avalon made no attempt to clear the air.
“I don’t think it’s very fair if you’re the only one who knows my name, Cadre.”
He had already noticed Sahariel’s presence where Lars was fighting, and the man in front of them had just as, if not an even heavier presence to him.
“Fair enough, my name is Armaros, and as you’ve already guessed, I am indeed a Cadre.”
Armaros was known throughout Grigori for having an exceedingly eccentric personality, but right now, that enthusiasm was nowhere to be seen.
This was war after all, and someone that had lived as long as he had could decipher the threat the person in front of him posed.
“Armaros… Meaning ‘accursed one’,” Avalon scratched his chin. “What about the Cadre to our left? Who’s that one?”
Armaros’s eyes widened a little.
“Our left? You can sense that from all the way over here?” Avalon replied with a simple nod. “Impressive… That’s Sahariel.”
“And the right?” Whichever Cadre had been given the unfortunate task of having to fight Adaloth, he couldn’t help but pity them.
“Penemue.”
“Armaros, Sahariel, Penemue.” Avalon recounted their names aloud. “Three Cadres all at once, that city must mean more to you than we originally imagined.” He gestured to the walls of Mortis stood behind Armaros.
“This is our home, of course we’re going to do everything we can to defend it. Don’t tell me you’re surprised by that?”
“You’re right, I shouldn’t be surprised. Although, the way you phrased that almost makes me feel a little villainous.” He breathed a flat chuckle.
“The concept of good and evil doesn’t have any value here, and I don’t intend on pretending like it does.” Armaros let out a sigh. “Hey, do you mind if I ask you a question?”
“Sure, you answered mine so it’s only fair that I do the same.”
Sylas and his soldiers were left utterly baffled.
What possible reason could the Blindfold Devil have to be conversing with a Cadre so casually? For a brief second it almost felt like they weren’t about to fight to the death.
“Are you really Souji Okita?”
Avalon smiled a little.
“Why do you ask?”
“I mean, Souji Okita is supposed to be a veteran from the Civil War. However, you give me the impression of someone much greener. Not to mention that there isn’t really any reason for you to be using a disguise spell, or wearing a blindfold.”
‘Finally, someone with a shred of common sense.’
“Yeah, I’m not Souji. That’s just a misconception one of your people came up with, Eurus, I believe her name was?”
Armaros facepalmed.
“I should’ve known better than to have trusted information from Kokabiel’s daughter, she really is just as idiotic as her father after all.”
‘Kokabiel’s daughter? Fascinating, but now’s not the time to be worrying about that.’
Both Armaros and Avalon looked upwards, noticing that a sudden downpour of rain had descended upon the terrain.
“Well would you look at that? The Underworld’s setting the mood for us,” Avalon commented, hearing the sound of the droplets hitting his armor.
“This war is deciding the fate of who gets to keep the Underworld to themselves, it’s only natural that it elicits a response from the land we’re fighting over.”
“What a romantic world view for a Fallen Angel,” Avalon said in a noticeably mocking tone.
But Armaros didn’t seem to care all that much.
“So, if you’re not Souji Okita. Then who exactly are you?”
“My name is Avalon Gremory, I doubt anyone from your side has heard of me thanks to Eurus’s faulty intel.”
“Gremory? You’re a relative of the Crimson Satan?”
“Yeah, he’s my older brother.”
Eventually, Sylas took a step forward, putting his arm on Avalon’s shoulder.
“I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but we’re supposed to be in the middle of a war right now. This isn’t the time for casual conversation, especially with the enemy.”
Avalon frowned, slowly craning his head towards the Bael.
“Sylas.”
“Yes?”
“Shut up.”
Sylas felt a sharp chill crawl down his spine as his skin paled, his body taking a reflexive step backwards while he was left utterly speechless.
Avalon had just talked back to him!
Something he had never done before!
“Wha-”
And to make matters worse, for some reason Sylas felt too intimidated to reprimand him at the moment.
Such was the result of Avalon’s switch being flipped through the thrill of battle.
‘You can’t see it, but his expression right now is priceless.’ Tomoe relished in Sylas’s bewilderment.
“So, Armaros, don’t you think it’s about time you reveal them?” He pointed above the Cadre, where nothing but the sky was visible.
“Haha! You can even see through Sahariel’s creation? You’re something alright, Avalon.” He tugged on the invisible blanket in the air, which completely dwarfed the one Sahariel used to hide his defense against Lith.
One could hear the round of gasps coming from Sylas’s men, each of them assuming their battle stance the second they witnessed the spectacle in front of them.
8,000 Fallen Angels.
Not Scourges.
Actual, flesh and blood Fallen Angels, each wearing the same sets of armor that Sahariel’s were.
8,000 was a big number even by Devil standards, but for the Fallen Angels, it was colossal.
“Scourges can only take us so far, at some point we have to call upon our real strength to protect our home.” Armaros sported a smug grin, all of the soldiers behind him were a part of his personal army, one that had been cultivated since the Great War.
An army that eclipsed Lith’s both in experience and numbers.
And that experience was made crystal clear by the pressure each of Armaros’s soldiers were exuding.
“I’ve been dying to see what the real thing looked like,” Avalon almost felt tempted to clap. “And I can say with full confidence that I have not been disappointed, not even a little.”
‘Sylas will definitely lose against them, but as long as he can hold out until I kill Armaros, then I should be able to help.’
Avalon had no delusions about taking on both Armaros and his army at the same time.
This time Avalon was the one to put his hand on Sylas’s shoulder.
“Do your best,” there wasn’t even a hint of sympathy in his voice.
Nor was there any reason to be, Sylas had chosen to be a General.
This was just part of the job wasn’t it?
“Can’t you call-”
“Call my peerage? I’m afraid not, if you were paying attention to our little chat just then. You would’ve heard that they’re also busy fighting Cadres, but don’t panic. As long as you can hold them off for long enough, I should be able to come help you.”
Sylas grit his teeth together, his frustration and dread building up as the reality of his situation started to sink in.
Even he could tell, Armaros’s soldiers were on a completely different level than his!
“You seem confident,” Armaros also started to walk towards him, intent on meeting one another in between their respective armies.
“I’m a brat, isn’t it my right to be cocky at a time like this?” The closer he got to the Cadre, the wider his grin grew.
‘I much prefer this side of you, why can’t you be like this more often?’ Tomoe’s remark went totally ignored, in spite of the Kyuubi literally speaking into Avalon’s mind.
“Indeed, it is your right.”
Their speed continued to grow faster and faster, until the point where they were just outright sprinting towards one another.
Avalon reinforced his body with Demonic Power, and coated his skin in Touki.
He called forth Muramasa as the sound of his feet splashing against the mud resonated through the air.
Clang!
And once both sides heard the sound of Avalon’s blade clashing with Armaros’s axe, it had become clear to them.
The battle had begun.
“That’s an interesting shield you have there,” Avalon remarked as he struggled to best Armaros in their battle of physical strength.
‘The Demonic Power in Muramasa is getting weaker the longer my blade touches his shield, I don’t get it.’
“My specialty is Anti-Magic, I trust you can figure out the rest?”
Avalon’s eyes widened upon hearing that, causing him to jump up and plant both feet on Armaros’s shield, using it as a platform to kick himself backwards to put some distance between them and reconsider his approach.
‘Anti-Magic? I see, if that’s the case then it would be a waste to use external spells. It’d be smarter to focus on strengthening myself internally, and trying to best him with my swordsmanship.’
Armaros was someone who had fought against the original Four Great Satans in the Great War, therefore Avalon didn’t believe he could surpass him in a contest of pure melee technique.
However, his speed was on a completely different level than Armaros.
That was how he would win.
Armaros felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, a result of Avalon disappearing seemingly out of nowhere.
The Cadre quickly honed his senses, searching his surroundings to see where the Devil had gone.
‘Behind? No! Above!’
Almost falling for the feint, Armaros narrowly managed to put his shield above his head in time.
‘This is no good, Muramasa will only continue to lose its strength if I keep letting it touch his shield! That axe also seems to have the same properties as the shield from what I can tell.’
Avalon decided to give up the attack of his own volition, evading the follow-up swing of Armaros’s axe and performing a swift low sweep to knock the Cadre off his feet.
“Idiot, did you really think I wasn’t capable of something as elementary as reinforcement?” Armaros mocked Avalon as the latters foot connected with his shin.
Armaros was like a boulder, steadfast and completely unmoving.
“Well, you fought pretty well for a child.”
Confident that he had enough of an opening to deliver the finishing blow, Armaros raised his axe over his head, and swung downwards with all his might.
But Avalon was nowhere near ready to let the fight end.
He puffed his chest and cheeks up, releasing a torrent of scorching blue flames at Armaros’s face from his mouth, causing the Cadre to stumble backwards as he used his cape as a fire blanket to protect his skin.
‘Hahaha! That’s more like it!’ Tomoe certainly seemed to be enjoying the spectacle.
“What’s wrong? I thought you were going to end me there?” Avalon couldn’t help but grin, putting his hand on his mud-covered knee and hauling himself to his feet.
Armaros frowned, putting his hand on his semi-charred face.
“Fox Fire, so the Youkai you’re keeping in your body is a Kitsune. No, judging by the intensity of your Ki, it’s probably something on par with the fabled Kyuubi.” The Cadre thought aloud with an alarming amount of composure.
A few burns weren’t nearly enough to crush his millenia-old spirit.
“And people say I’m perceptive,” Avalon chuckled.
“Perception comes with age and experience, it’s nothing special.” Armaros shrugged the compliment off. “Hey, I know this is kind of an odd time, but you wouldn’t happen to be alright with entertaining another question of mine?”
“I don’t mind.”
There was no use in trying to stall against Avalon, since he’d detect whatever trap had been laid long before it could be sprung.
“You wouldn’t happen to be another Non-Devil would you? Like the Crimson Satan and the moss-haired one?”
Avalon tilted his head upon hearing the term.
“Non-Devil?” It took a second for Armaros’s meaning to sink in. “Oh, that’s what you mean. Yes, I am indeed a Non-Devil like them.”
Ajuka had once told him that Super Devils weren’t actually Devils, but supposedly something more.
And since Sylas wasn’t exactly in a situation where he could afford to listen in on their conversation, he didn’t mind divulging it.
“I thought as much, a Devil your age shouldn’t physically be capable of being this strong, storing a Youkai of that magnitude in their body, or using a Demonic Sword without experiencing any corruption.”
Armaros sighed.
Existences like Avalon really were a huge pain in the ass.
“Oh, and there’s one last thing I’d like to ask,” Armaros seemed ready to get back into his battle stance. “You’re not really blind are you? That blindfold you’re wearing is a seal, it’s purposefully suppressing you.”
Avalon didn’t give him a verbal response, just a plain nod.
“Don’t you think now’s a good time to take it off?”
He remained silent, raising Muramasa and pointing it at Armaros.
In other words, “make me.”
“Fair enough,” Armaros scoffed.
To Avalon’s surprise, instead of continuing the fight, Armaros decided to reach into his attire and withdraw what looked to be some sort of small object.
“What are you doing?” Avalon asked.
“I mean, at this rate I’m going to lose, and I can’t really afford to let that happen given what’s behind me. So I’ve decided to take on a gamble,” he shrugged.
“A gamble?” Avalon scratched his cheek.
In Armaros’s hand was a small, black, chess piece.
And to Avalon’s further confusion, it was looked to be a King piece.
“This’ll either kill me on the spot, or make me strong enough to annihilate you. A rather thrilling game of dice don’t you think?”
As Armaros brought the piece closer to his mouth, a memory flashed through his mind.
A long time ago, when he had first arrived at the border with Zeoticus and Venelana, he had inspected the carriages that had been attacked by the Fallen Angels.
(AN: See “Chapter 6: Shadow Of Conflict” for reference, recommended to pay attention to Sylas’s segment at the end.)
In those carriages, he came across some sort of blue powdery substance that had been left behind, the traces of them being so small that he was the only one capable of detecting them.
He had given that substance to his father to examine in further detail.
And the result?
Remnants of Agares Crystals.
The material necessary to create the Evil Pieces, something that had no business being transported in carriages designated for food and medical supplies.
The discovery had put the Agares Clan under suspicion, but till date nothing about them had come to light.
Which was even more suspicious in its own right.
‘Even if they’ve somehow reverse engineered the Evil Pieces, there’s no such thing as a King Piece.’
Not knowing what object in Armaros’s hand did, Avalon wasn’t sure what to make of it.
‘I don’t understand, what’s even the point of such a creation? Does it have the same boosting effect as the other pieces? Is that what he means by making him stronger? But what’s the killing part about?’
While Avalon was absorbed in his own thoughts, Armaros dropped the dark chess piece into his mouth, swallowing it in one go.
Avalon scratched his temple, not having the faintest clue as to what was going on.
A brief moment of silence ensued between them, both the Cadre and Super Devil seemingly waiting for something to happen.
‘Well… This is pretty awkward.’
Avalon resumed his battle stance, preparing to continue the fight after the strange interruption.
BOOM!
But out of nowhere, a torrent of Light Magic erupted like a pillar of sheer radiance from Armaros’s being.
One so potent that all the fighting on the battlefield seemed to come to a temporary pause, just so both Devils and Fallen Angels could turn to witness the spectacle.
The pillair reached into the sky, parting the clouds themselves and causing the downpour to stop.
The burns of Armaros’s face had completely healed, and Avalon could sense that his body had been rejuvenated with power that extended even beyond what a Cadre should be capable of storing.
This boost in strength went way beyond what an Evil Piece could offer!
Armaros took a deep breath, examining his arms and flexing them as he plastered an elated grin on his face.
“It would appear that luck isn’t on your side, Avalon.” The Cadre said with unwavering confidence. “The piece I just swallowed is capable of raising one’s strength from 10, to a whopping 100 times. However, the stronger the consumer is, the higher chance there is of death.”
“So that’s what you meant by a gamble, I understand now.”
Avalon had every right to be nervous beyond belief right now.
A Cadre was one thing, a super-charged Cadre was another.
But for some, he felt physically incapable of processing the well-justified fear he should be experiencing at the moment.
Like he had lost control over his own facial expression, the corners of his mouth starched to stretch.
His mind fully understood the threat in front of him, but his heart couldn’t be more ecstatic!
So what if luck wasn’t on his side?
When had it ever even been on his side to begin with? Even in his life before this one.
“You don’t seem very bothered,” Armaros observed.
“Why would I be? Your courage enabled you to take on the gamble, and it ended up paying off for you. That’s just how the world is sometimes, winning or losing being boiled down to nothing but plain luck.”
Avalon reached his hand up to his face, grabbing the fabric of his blindfold.
Sylas was in no position to watch him, unless he was willing to do so at the expense of risking his own life in the midst of a losing battle.
“I commend you Armaros, you’re ready to risk your life to protect that city from me.”
He started to pull it downwards.
“And, I’m ready to risk my life so I can take it from you.”
Eurus’s feather fell out from the back of his blindfold as he draped it around his neck, revealing his ethereal violet eyes which seemed to flow with boundless depth like the ocean itself.
Armaros felt a cold sweat run down his back, as if Avalon’s piercing stare alone were enough to drill a hole through his face.
‘I hope you’re ready, if you’re unable to make this work you’ll end up dead.’ Tomoe cautioned.
This time, Avalon brought forth the full extent of Tomoe’s Ki sealed inside him.
The white light covering him as a result of his Touki started to morph into a bright blue color.
His pupils were quick to contract, transforming from their rounded shape into slits like a Kitsune’s.
His hair started to lose his mother’s brown, replaced by Tomoe’s white as it grew to the point where it touched his neck.
His fingernails sharpened, resembling miniature knives.
A set of white fox ears appeared on the top of his head, alongside nine similarly colored fox tails unveiling from the back of his waist like a blossoming flower.
The tranquil presence of his Demonic Power vanished, now being home to the raging violence of Tomoe’s bloodlust given form.
The sounds of bones crunching in a grotesque manner could be heard as his muscles started to bulge like Armaros’s were, his veins now visible across each of his limbs.
He opened his mouth as a cascade of stream bellowed out from the sides, and his drastically sharpened canines were revealed.
“You’re not the only one with a second phase! Armaros!” Avalon cackled in an almost drunk fashion.
“Apparently not,” the Cadre couldn’t help but frown.
Succeeding in assimilating the modified King Piece was supposed to be the final nail in the coffin, Armaros certainly wasn’t expecting Avalon to be capable of going any further.
For him to have contended with Armaros at all was beyond impressive.
For him to continue to do so, even after his power-up was just plain madness.
Muramasa’s strength tripled, Fox Fire covering the entirety of the blade as Avalon decided to give it a single practice swing.
One that sent out a behemothic wave of fire Armaros’s way, the Cadre standing firm in response and holding up his shield to block the oncoming inferno.
“Fusing with that much Ki should have your internal energy in shambles,” Armaros spoke as he observed the mild burns that he had sustained even after successfully guarding himself. “However, that doesn’t seem to be the case for you. I suppose that’s just to be expected when it comes to Non-Devils.”
The initial shock of Avalon’s transformation started to subside.
So what if he could still match him in power? Armaros still had the upper hand in experience!
He still had victory in his sights, there was no reason for him to lose even an ounce of morale.
“I’m not interested in all this technical-shmenical talk anymore, Armaros,” Avalon planted his left foot into the ground, causing the earth beneath him to tremble under the might of his sheer strength. “I just want to continue our fight, we can chat all we want when we meet in the afterlife!”
“Alright then,” Armaros shifted his neck from side to side, cracking his bones.
Despite his strange appearance, Armaros didn’t fancy himself much of a battle-maniac.
Like most of his comrades, research is what interests him most.
However, just like Avalon, he could feel the thrill of battle coursing through his veins.
He could pretend all he wanted, but deep down he knew, he was enjoying this as well!
Fighting was fun!
Like speeding bullet trains, they both shot forth at one another, Avalon making the first impact as a result of his superior speed.
Muramasa clashed with Armaros’s shield, the sound of their metal grating against each other resounding through the atmosphere for all to hear and marvel in.
Armaros tried to take a swing at Avalon with his axe, but was instead met with the painful sensation of Avalon’s nails digging into his wrist, locking his other arm in place.
The Devil had chosen to wield Muramasa with one hand, sacrificing a good amount of strength he could put into swinging the Demonic Sword so he could counter all of Armaros’s follow-up attacks with his brute strength.
“You’ve become reckless,” but the Cadre was more than willing to endure the pain.
Now that Avalon’s grip on Muramasa was weakened, Armaros readied a shield bash to knock the freakishly-long sword out of his hands.
Clang!
All of a sudden, four of Avalon’s tails wrapped around his right arm, using his new appendages to endure the might of the shield bash head on and keep Muramasa firmly clamped between his fingers.
What kind of ludicrous fighting style was this?
Were tails even supposed to be used like that?
“Recklessness and youth go hand in hand!” Avalon bellowed, his grin unmoved, and his arm still shaking from the impact he had just received.
Armaros felt an abrupt searing sensation on the arm he was using to hold his axe, the Cadre shocked to see the entirety of his limb already covered in bright-blue flames.
Flames that now had crimson accents swirling through them, a result of Avalon fusing it with his Power of Destruction.
Armaros was an opponent unlike anything he had ever faced before, it was only right that he used every trick at his disposal to defeat him!
“I’ve never fought someone as annoying as you,” Armaros snickered, kicking Avalon in the stomach and distancing himself from the Devil temporarily.
Armaros clicked his tongue, observing the pretty much irreparable damage that had been done to his arm.
“Oh well, that’s just how war is sometimes.” He shrugged, dropping his shield and holding his axe with a not-on-fire arm.
He proceeded to lift the axe, and chop down on his own arm without hesitation!
He wasn’t about to let the fire spread, or let the rotting effect of being under Avalon’s Fox Fire and Power of Destruction take him out of the fight just yet.
It was just an arm, Grigori could always make him a prosthetic one later on anyways.
“And to think you called me the reckless one,” Avalon chortled. “Are you planning to take me down with just your axe?”
“Yeah, pretty much.” The fact that Armaros didn’t seem to hesitate even a little, deserved nothing less than Avalon’s complete respect.
Maybe that was just the difference between him and a Cadre who had lived through the Great War.
“Don’t tell me you're insulted or something?”
“No, nothing about you has insulted me, Armaros, not in the slightest.” Avalon extended his hand, flames building up at his fingertips. “The only insult is the pathetic excuse for a General behind me,” he chuckled.
The battle between him and Armaros had only gone on for a few minutes, and 3,000 Bael Clan soldiers had already died, with Armaros’s soldiers hardly receiving even a 1,000 casualties in turn.
Avalon was surprised that Sylas was even still alive.
“He’s the General? Seriously?”
“Yeah, hard to believe isn’t it?”
The mass of flames gathering around Avalon’s hand continued to grow larger and larger, to the point where it seemed like he was about to unleash an entire forest fire from his fingertips alone.
“I’ll say,” Armaros twirled his axe, steeling himself for what was to come.
Fwoosh!
An endless waterfall of vibrant flames rushed at Armaros, enough to cover the entirety of his legion of 8,000 Fallen Angels had Avalon aimed it the other way.
‘He has no other choice but to dodge, if he tries to block this in his current condition he’ll without a doubt be dead.’
Avalon’s thoughts suggested one outcome, but reality offered another.
The Super Devil’s eyes widened, bullets of sweat running down his skin as a result of what his senses told him.
‘This can’t be…’
“A-Armaros… You’re…”
The corners of Avalon’s lips twitched, a fearful smile appearing on his face as he found himself unable to process what the Cadre had just chosen to do.
“YOU’RE INSANE!”
He had chosen to sprint right through the flames!
He clearly had a death wish! He’d been a puddle of hot flesh before he even managed to get within a few meters of Avalon!
Splurt!
“W-What…?” Avalon slowly craned his head to the left, his shock only furthered by the Cadre’s continued madness.
Armaros’s axe was now embedded into Avalon’s left shoulder, he had thrown it through the fire while charging through it! And since the axe had Anti-Magic infused into it, Avalon’s senses had picked up on it a moment too late.
Blood started to leak out of his shoulder profusely, spilling onto the floor as Avalon’s control over his Fox Fire wavered every so slightly.
“There’s nothing wrong with a little insanity!” Armaros roared, his hair, clothes, and armor having all been burned off as his mangled appearance made it out the other side of Avalon’s fire.
His skin was nothing but a charred mess, parts of having turned liquid and dropping onto the floor like the blood from Avalon’s wound.
There was no feasible way he should be alive right now!
Yet here he was!
Avalon finally snapped out of his dread-induced trance once Armaros was only a hair’s breadth away from reaching the weapon lodged into his shoulder.
He raised Muramasa, taking full advantage of its reach to pierce through Armaros’s chest, and hoist his body into the air before the Cadre could attempt to do whatever he had planned.
“What a shame… cough cough… I was aiming for your… cough… neck…”
Avalon blinked repeatedly, part of him thinking that what he was experiencing was all part of a bad dream.
“Haha… Y-You almost got me.”
He pulled Muramasa out of his chest, causing Armaros’s body to drop to the ground as the Cadre finally succumbed to his injuries.
No, he shouldn’t have even made it to this point, he was supposed to have died while engulfed in Avalon’s flames.
How? Just how had this person gone beyond death itself to defeat the opponent in front of him?
Even Avalon’s all-seeing eyes could not answer that question.
The figure of Armaros’s mangeled body sprinting through the fire had been forever engraved into his memory.
Avalon’s transformation came to an end, his ears and tails disappearing, his fangs, canines, and pupils returning to normal.
His hair also soon regained its brown color, save for a single streak of white hair that had been left behind at the front.
He propped his blindfold back around his face, his eyes having been pushed to their utmost limit.
He turned around, watching as time itself seemed to have stopped on the battlefield.
There wasn’t a single soldier who hadn’t been left breathless, regardless of whether they were a Fallen Angel or Devil. None of them could ignore the sensation of such a colossal amount of Light Magic disappearing from the terrain.
The child wearing a blindfold was standing.
And the Cadre wearing a helmet had fallen.
The battle between the Blindfold Devil and Anti-Magic Cadre was over.
“Surrender or continue, your choice.” Avalon spoke to the Fallen Angels, his breath still labored, alongside mud and blood covering the entirety of his frame.
With tears streaming down the faces of the Fallen Angels, they each raised their weapons once more. Each of them feeling nothing but unadulterated wrath for the Devil in front of them.
Of course, they would avenge their leader!
“I see, an extraordinary army befitting an extraordinary commander.” Avalon struggled to pull the axe out of his shoulder, but managed to get it done in the end. The properties of the weapon disturbed his regeneration a fair bit.
He couldn’t rest now, there were still 7,000 high-level Fallen Angels teeming with bloodlust before him.
Until he killed them all, he couldn’t rest.
