Chapter 9:

Disappointment

Incinerate


[north-east hallway of the castle on the first 1 floor]

The area of the hallway Deimos and Mephistopheles have been fighting in has two paths joining as one and another path curving to the left which leads to a different hallway that all closely resembles a T-intersection.

A gust of wind swept down Deimos' arm as it lashed out. Mephistopheles' eyes were fixed on it, and he swung his sword up to meet it. There was a loud screech of metal and a sharp snapping sound as Deimos' fist collided with the flat side of Mephistopheles' blade.

Mephistopheles grunted as his arms were pushed backward. He quickly recovered, though, by swiftly swinging his sword upward and deflecting the attack aimed at him. This threw Deimos back into a nearby wall. As Deimos slammed against the stone surface of the wall, the chain inside his sleeve rustled violently as it was whipped back and forth.

Mephistopheles stepped forward to attack again, but Deimos' chain shot out from his sleeve, wrapping around Mephistopheles' waist and tightening around his neck. With a quick pull, Deimos was right in front of him and the chain was gone. He reared back and struck Mephistopheles, who flew across the hallway and hit the floor hard.

Mephistopheles hastily got to his feet and spotted a curved path to his left that would take him to an alternate hallway. If he went down it now, while there was still distance between them, Deimos wouldn't be able to see him unless Deimos also moved closer to the hall entryway.

Mephistopheles swerved his waist to the left and began sprinting. The sound of his pitch-black boot repeatedly hitting the ground echoed throughout the hallway as he ran towards the corridor to his left. He constantly made sure Deimos stayed within his line of sight before the wall blocked his view as he entered a new corridor.

From afar, Deimos watched as Mephistopheles dashed around the corner of the hallway and entered a new corridor. Deimos had never seen anyone move with such elegance and poise, and he was curious to know more about this enigmatic individual.

There was a palpable silence in the air as Mephistopheles stood at the entrance to the corridor, silent and concentrated. His feet were shoulder-width apart, with his leading foot slightly forward, and a small drop of sweat slid down his brow. He gripped his sword in his right hand, and his left hand was clenched in a fist. As Deimos walked down the hallway, his black boots echoed against the walls. His footsteps made the floor vibrate slightly. His hands didn't wave around or stick out as though he was holding something, and his feet silently shuffled against the hard floor as he moved slowly and deliberately through the hallway.

Mephistopheles stayed alert for Deimos, looking and listening for opportunities that presented themselves in the hallway. A glint and buzzing could be heard as Deimos moved down the corridor nearby.

As Deimos walked, his left hand on his belt and his right hand in his pocket, he glanced down at the hallway floor. There was dust, and every once in a while he saw footprints that looked like his own, but they were faint. Through the dark shadow of Mephistopheles, he could see him slowly pacing the hallway.

Deimos smiled as he observed Mephistopheles, his face illuminated by the dim light that came from his armour. Mephistopheles was exhausted, his arms slumped to his sides, his chest heaving, and his feet shuffling. His eyes were closed and his sword rested in the hand that wasn't gripping the hilt. A glint and buzzing could be heard as Deimos progressed down the adjacent corridor, his black boots echoing against the walls.

Mephistopheles reappeared at the entrance to another corridor, and Deimos prepared to attack him once again. Deimos had nowhere to go but forward, but he couldn't focus on that. He kept glancing over his shoulder as he slowly made his way. He noticed that Mephistopheles was standing still at the entrance to the next corridor, his hands clenched and his knuckles whitening as he stood motionless. Deimos was enjoying himself. His mind wandered, and he was lost in a daze. As he was lost in thought, a bit of Deimos' body appeared in Mephistopheles' line of vision, and a bit of Deimos' figure reached the corner of the corridor entrances.

Mephistopheles's shadow began to shift, disappearing from the hallway as Mephistopheles jumped from the ground. His armour clattered as he veered forwards and reappeared in front of Deimos. Deimos was not prepared for the sight that met his eyes, instinctively thrusting his left hand forward in defence and drawing back his right arm, clenching his hand into a fist.

Mephistopheles thrust his sword precisely and straightforwardly towards Deimos' palm. His blade ended up piercing Deimos' hand as they collided with each other. The sword sunk deep into Deimos' hand, his bone crackling as the edge of the blade sliced through the bone and flesh of Deimos' hand, slicing him open and causing his blood to flow freely.

Deimos screamed as his left hand was severed from his wrist. The tip of Mephistopheles' sword was buried in his left palm, and a trickle of blood ran down his forearm.

At the same time Mephistopheles punctured Deimos' left hand, his left arm was shoulder-height with his elbow bent at a 90-degree angle. The wind gusted along his arm as Mephistopheles launched a lead hook at Deimos' right forearm.

Deimos was sent flying backwards and hit the wall so hard that his head made a loud noise as it hit the stone surface. A dense cloud of dust immediately filled the room. He slid down the wall until he was slumped on the floor, his left hand bleeding profusely from a deep gash.

As he lay there, his vision blurred and he could feel an intense pain throbbing through his arm from the gaping wound in his left palm. He slowly got to his feet, his legs shaking, and looked at his hand. He saw that it was now fully exposed and covered in blood. His whole body was trembling. And he could hear the sound of Mephistopheles' footsteps getting closer.

As Mephistopheles kept walking down the hallway, Deimos heard light footsteps getting closer. His eyes widened and he quickly turned to his right, where he saw Mephistopheles' shadow in the hallway. Mephistopheles was quiet as he came closer to Deimos, boots clicking against the floor.

Mephistopheles took a step toward Deimos, and Deimos noticed that his right hand wasn't gripping his sword anymore. It was still stuck in Deimos's hand.

"You should've been more careful. You made this too easy for me." Mephistopheles said as he got in front of Deimos. He pulled his sword out of Deimos's hand and held it by the hilt.

Deimos slowly stood up, his left hand visibly trembling. He clenched it into a fist as he spoke.

"I'll give you this much, Mephistopheles. You're a worthy opponent. I never thought I'd be facing someone as strong as you." Deimos said as he walked up to Mephistopheles. "But I'm afraid your strength will not help you here. I am principle six of the Balisarda Sumernor kingdom, after all. Your strength will avail you nothing. Now, come on, don't make this boring."

Mephistopheles stared at Deimos as he spoke. His eyes narrowed as he watched Deimos closely.

Deimos quickly turned away from Mephistopheles and thrust his left hand forward. His white chain shot out from his sleeve and wrapped around Mephistopheles' waist, pulling him backwards. Deimos then swiftly spun around, bringing his left hand to his chest as he brought his right hand to the end of his chain.

As Mephistopheles saw Deimos whirling his chains around his body in a continuous movement, his eyes widened in fear. The chains encircled his sword and with a deft flick of the wrist, Deimos threw the sword aside. Then he thrust at the air next to Mephistopheles with his chains. Deimos Teleported again, appearing only a few feet away from Mephistopheles. The two were locked in a lethal dance, each striving to defeat the other in a fight to the death.

Mephistopheles gradually opened his hand, his fingers uncurling and stretching outwards. The sound of his pitch-black gauntlet clanging filled the air as it shifted. He then slowly moved his arm forward, his hand now fully open.

Mephistopheles deliberately extended his arm towards Deimos. As he did, his sword left the ground and flew towards Deimos at high velocity. The blade cut a piece of Deimos' white hair before returning to Mephistopheles' hand, appearing as if it was a boomerang. Mephistopheles' face showed no emotion the whole time.

Deimos was astonished as he uttered, "What in the world was that!?" Mephistopheles answered coolly, "That was a display of my abilities. Think of this as a warning - no matter how far away it is, my sword will always return to me."

Deimos's heart was pounding as he stood there, watching as Mephistopheles held his sword, the blade pointed straight at him.

Deimos and Mephistopheles met each other's gaze as Deimos slowly raised his hands and brought them together. He then separated his hands and brought them back together again. He repeated this process several times, increasing the speed and force of his swings.

Mephistopheles stepped back as Deimos increased the speed and power of his attacks. Deimos could feel his body tensing as he focused on his swing. His muscles tightened as he waited for the perfect moment. Deimos felt a surge of energy as he finally connected his hands with a resounding clap.

Deimos unexpectedly lowered his arms and ran at Mephistopheles, who tried to block the attack with his sword. The strength of the blow sent Mephistopheles flying backwards, and Deimos ran forward to deliver another blow, this time kicking Mephistopheles in the lower back. Mephistopheles hit the ground hard and rolled to a stop, coughing and spitting blood.

Mephistopheles rose, but Deimos was there in a heartbeat, kicking him in the stomach and causing him to stagger backwards. Deimos ran at him and leapt into the air, coming down hard on Mephistopheles with both feet and pinning him to the ground. Mephistopheles headbutted Deimos with enough force to release himself, and the two tumbled apart. Deimos was the first back on his feet, and he lunged at Mephistopheles.

Mephistopheles was momentarily taken aback by the Deimos' ferocious attack. He had never encountered an adversary who fought with such unbridled savagery. Deimos seemed to be consumed by a demonic fury, and Mephistopheles wasn't confident that he could overcome him.

Deimos mercilessly attacked Mephistopheles, and in no time, Mephistopheles was desperately trying to deflect Deimos' strikes. Despite his best efforts, the concentrated power of Deimos' blows was too much. Mephistopheles had never come up against anyone like this and was beginning to wear down.

Deimos kept attacking, and eventually, Mephistopheles started to get weaker and then fell to the ground.

Deimos gazed down at the prone figure of Mephistopheles, who he towered over. Deimos could make out the sound of his breathing and the sound of his heartbeat. Deimos could also detect the odour of fresh sweat coming from Mephistopheles.

Deimos lowered his hands, his chains clanking as they hit the floor. He put his hands behind his back and leaned forward, glaring at Mephistopheles.

"We're even now," Deimos said as he stood up.

Mephistopheles slowly sat up from where he had been knocked down and wiped the blood from his mouth. He looked at Deimos, who stood above him. Deimos stepped forward and knelt down so they could look each other in the eye. "You're the current bloodshed user, aren't you? The one who goes by the name Mephistopheles," Deimos asked. Mephistopheles looked back at Deimos and shrugged his shoulders. "What does that mean? Are you refusing to answer me?" Deimos said as he stood up.

Deimos glared at Mephistopheles. "You're not a murderer," Mephistopheles replied calmly. "I kill only when I have to." Deimos paused to consider his words. "I see. That's good. You've killed a lot of people though, right?"

"That's a matter of necessity," Mephistopheles said as he stood up. Deimos raised his leg and kicked the air, the force of which pushed Mephistopheles backward.

"Why do you keep fighting me, Mephistopheles?" Deimos asked as he turned around. "Why don't you just surrender and let me take you to the High King?"

Mephistopheles didn't reply, but the look in his eyes answered Deimos' question. He would never give up, never give in. He would fight to the bitter end, even if it meant his own destruction.

Deimos sighed and shook his head as he knelt and grabbed his chains. He wrapped them around his right arm and then stood back up, punching the air. A massive shockwave spread across the battlefield, and Deimos slowly turned around to look at Mephistopheles.

Mephistopheles didn't reply, but the look in his eyes was enough to answer Deimos' question. He would never give up, never give in. He would fight until the very end, even if it resulted in his demise.

Deimos emitted a long sigh, shook his head then kneeled to grab his chains. After wrapping them around his right arm, he stood back up and punched the air, causing a massive shockwave that spread throughout the battlefield. Deimos then slowly turned around to look at Mephistopheles.

There was a look of detachment on Deimos's face as he met Mephistopheles's gaze. In a soft voice, Deimos said, "I don't want to fight you anymore. You're weak and you're pointless." He then turned away and began to walk in the opposite direction.

Mephistopheles rose to his feet, brushing the dust from his armour. He leapt off the ground, his sword brandished at Deimos's back. But Deimos dodged quickly, hopping to the side just in time to sidestep a slash that would have cut his shoulder.

As Deimos wheeled around to face him again, Mephistopheles appeared behind him. Once more he drew his sword horizontally through the air.

"I told you mercilessly that I no longer care about your black armour ass anymore!!!" screamed Deimos as he swung his chains through the air.

Mephistopheles grunted when he felt his left arm go numb from the chains. Then he quickly ducked as he heard Deimos scream. Deimos had brought his chains down where Mephistopheles' head had been an instant ago.

Mephistopheles' materialisation and strike took Deimos by surprise; though Deimos was quickly able to parry the attack and push Mephistopheles' left arm under with his right. Deimos lifted Mephistopheles and then contorted his right arm towards him before hurling him several meters. Mephistopheles hit a wall with enough force to reduce it to rubble; though his body continued travelling through the air even after the impact.

As Mephistopheles continued to plummet through the air, he kept slamming into a wall, leaving his body imprinted onto the stone.

Mephistopheles finally landed on the ground after a few seconds, groaning as he lay there. he slowly stood up and took in the destruction. He could see that he was now entirely coated in rock dust.

As he slowly walked over to the wall, inspecting the immense destruction, he started coughing uncontrollably. Mephistopheles then collapsed to his knees, hid his face in his hands, and felt immense shame. His thoughts were racing as he tried to comprehend how he'd lost control of the battle and been transported to an entirely different area—one without a roof and miles away from where Deimos was.

Mephistopheles spoke to himself softly, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry Father. How can I get revenge on Balisarda Sumernor if I can't even defeat one of his followers?"

Mephistopheles was devastated when he heard the voice inside his head. The voice was furious and sounded like it was talking to Mephistopheles specifically.

"You've been betrayed," the voice said. "Your father has died. Balisarda Sumernor has taken everything from you. You are nothing but a pawn to him. You have no purpose in life. You have no place in this world. You have nothing to live for."

The voice was speaking the truth; Mephistopheles had been betrayed. His father had died, and Balisarda had stolen everything from him. He felt like a pawn, just like the voice said. He had no purpose in life.

As tears started to form in his eyes, he closed them. He could hear his father's voice saying something, but he couldn't make out what it was "My son, I'm sorry that things turned out this way, but don't dwell on the past. Move forward."

All he knew was that he was alone and had nobody to rely on. But as Mephistopheles sensed his father's presence near him, he felt a sense of peace come over him and knew he had to find a way to move forward.

***

Mephistopheles slowly opened his eyes as he felt a large shadow looming in the sky as if a storm was approaching. Mephistopheles sighed as he sat up; then, he felt a sudden cold chill run through his body. He knew that this was not a natural storm, but one summoned by a concurrence of powerful energy.

[The top floor of Balisarda Sumernor castle]

The sound of a boot hitting the ground echoed as a tall, tan man with brown eyes and large ears ran to the entrance of the Balisarda throne room. He was clearly haggard, and his angular eyebrows and softly shaped jaw defined his appearance. He was one hundred seventy-seven centimetres tall, and he was running to report the death of Aham.

As he reached the entrance, he looked up and saw the enormous, golden-plated doors to the throne room. They were decorated with gold, rubies, sapphires, emeralds, diamonds, and all sorts of other precious stones.

My lord, I have a report for you." The man said as he looked at the throne room door. The doors opened with a gradual, eerie screech as if the hinges were protesting. He took cautious steps inside, his footsteps echoing eerily in the large, empty room. The only other sound apart from his steps was the rustling of his clothing. The red carpet led to a massive golden chair, atop which sat a purple cushion. A table was placed beside the throne, with a small box resting upon it.

On the other side of the throne room, there was an enormous window that overlooked the castle grounds. Balisarda Sumernor was standing at the window with his left arm raised in the air, and a copious amount of aura was spilling from it. The aura gradually coalesced and took shape.

The messenger was immediately brought to his knees by the powerful aura emanating from Balisarda's outstretched hand as soon as he entered the room. He tried to move but found himself frozen in place, unable to even blink. Fear began to well up inside him as he looked up at the imposing figure of Balisarda, and his heart began to race. The messenger tried to speak, but could only manage a guttural noise. "No! Please!" He begged, but Balisarda Sumernor didn't respond to the servant. He simply continued to stare out of the window, his face expressionless. The messenger's fear turned to terror as he realised that he was going to die.

The servant's body started to shake as Balisarda's aura grew stronger, pushing him closer to death. "Please...my lord, please stop this," the servant said, trying to close his eyes. But he couldn't move his body. His heart was racing as he felt his soul begin to leave his body. "NO!! PLEASE!!" The servant screamed, staring at Balisarda's face. His body started to swell and expand, his eyes turning white and popping out of their sockets. His mouth opened wide as he breathed heavily. The servant's body was torn apart, his bones cracking and breaking. "NOOOOO!" He screamed as his body exploded into pieces of flesh.

Balisarda Sumernor turned to look at the remains of the person that used to be alive. "I already know that Aham is dead. I can see everything that happens in my castle," Balisarda said as he turned his attention back to the window. "What a worthless servant." The servant's body had been ground down to bone fragments.

"The military dares start a war with me, then I shall crush all of them." Balisarda Sumernor's arm was in the air as he spoke. "I have had enough of their machinations and it ends now. I will not tolerate any more of their attempts to control me. I will show them the error of their ways and make them regret ever crossing me."

The immense amount of aura radiating from Balisarda Sumernor's hand grows stronger and stronger. As Balisarda Sumernor shouted out loudly "Takemikazuchi's wrath", an explosive sound occurred as all of the tremendous aurae from Balisarda turned into a large blast that struck the sky, casting a gargantuan shadow over his castle stretching above the military war headquarters.

The ground began shaking as Balisarda Sumernor reached its peak. The earth began to crack, as the thunderous roar from Balisarda's hand shook the ground. The ground shook so violently that it began to break apart, and the cracks spread throughout the area. Balisarda's aura was so strong that it caused the ground to split apart and the rocks to shatter.