The Showdown #3

“It…sliced my skin?... It’s not healing either.” Jester nestled the wound on his neck, stealing his face. The task proved difficult however as when his severed hand finally was consumed, the flames appeared on where it was cut off.

The demon looked at Ayama, haggardly breathing through painful coughs, his punctured lungs straining to keep him alive. Just by a glance, the boy would surely survive, thanks to his patron deity and comrade. “The boy isn’t dead either, but something tells me that if I even move–”

The demon’s eyes wandered to the weapon in Akiro’s hand, his right shoulder tensing as the acid-like flames dug inside his arm. “His weapon will probably finish the job.”

“This vessel is done for,” Jester murmured to himself, feeling the surrounding area. He couldn’t help but sigh, “And my men are slowly getting overwhelmed– What a disgrace.”

The demon stared long and hard at the scythe, its length equal to that of the wielder’s height, and its grand design too much for him– as Jester had observed over ten months. “Akiro Hiroto is a simple, pragmatic boy who prioritizes results over looks.”

The demon appraised the weapon. At first glance, it seemed like a carved shaft, with smaller segments– discs —in between larger pieces. Jester knew what it was made of, it was a spine molded straight and transformed, carrying three cutting blades, and it was something he would make himself.

But unlike his pieces, it was something he could never create, “I see, so this boy has a patron as well– who, I wonder? Is this perhaps a forgotten god?”

The largest blade was the ominous screen portraying wisps of the souls trapped inside, the axe head partnered opposite of it, and the hollow diamond-spear tip. The cutting edges shone with a faint blue hue, reflecting the little light inside the room, contrasting it from the dark, light-absorbing sides of the blades.

“Nothing?” Jester couldn’t feel the slightest discomfort of the thought, so it ruled out the possibility. “Hmm…The world’s causality did not react…then perhaps a slumbering–

Da-dum!

“Agh!” Jester gasped unknowingly, feeling the pain of a large nail being hammered through his being, “This boy– He’s a threat to the Demon Emperor—”

“You’re quite arrogant– baiting an opening for me.” Akiro growled, appearing inches from his face, “Not that I’d care— you’re dying either way.”

Jester gasped, stepping back quickly and swiping with his right hand. Akiro however did not move “Oh—” Jester forgot, his right hand was missing, “Fuck.”

“[ Moonlight Execution-Style: Waxing Crescent ]”

Shing!!

His scythe traveled in a small arc quickly, incredibly quickly. The blade’s cutting edge sliced cleanly through the air as it did through the demon’s flesh, carving a smooth chunk of flesh running diagonally upward from his side to above his left shoulder, halving the orb inside his chest.

Whoosh!

The wind harshly blew past Jester’s body, spreading some black mist, but it returned quickly back to his body, stitching it together– leaving only a slice in the suit to reveal fresh stitches. Instantaneously, the function was restored, and Jester voiced out his anger.

“Agh!! Why you— my Magnum Opus–”

“I’m starting to hate that word, you use it too often.” Akiro closed the distance once more, flanking the demon’s right side, forcing him to turn left, “Don’t you have any originality, or is your vocabulary limited to that?”
Jester glared, but it had no effect, “This boy knows– how did he know?!”

“[ Moonlight Execution-Style: First Quarter ]”

Shing!

A following strike came again, much slower than the first, but with more power appropriated at the tip. The wind flowed around the blade, lifting slightly to offset the piercing point, slanting it, and instead of piercing it cleanly, Akiro cracked the orb inside Jester’s body, sending tremors of intense agony at the apex of his swing.

“AHH!” The demon screamed, but amidst his pain, he threw a claw from the left, swiping Akiro’s cheek as he pulled back, “You arrogant human!”

Akiro did not flinch, neither did he pull back. Time was on his side, and the demon’s power had weakened considerably thanks to his core being continuously damaged, for continuously flashing his weakness as a bluff became his undoing. “I’m not done either. [Moonlight Execution-Style: Waxing Gibbous]”

Akiro drew the scythe closer to his body, swinging the blade’s cleaving axe head and forcing Jester to make distance, an opportunity he had made intentionally.

Shing!

The assassin swung wider, much further than he did before, in turn, allowing him to thrust with his spear– catching Jester off guard. “What!?!” The demon cried out, both in shock and pain as the searing flames had reached his neck. “That’s not how he did it the first time– If I weren’t weakened by divine power, then I wouldn’t be pushed back like this! I need to protect my core–”

Jester titled his head to the right, narrowly avoiding his attack– giving Akiro the perfect angle for the third attack of the motion.

Shing!

A diagonal slash came down, slashing him perfectly through the stitches of the first attack, exactly through the same wound, cleaving only scar tissue; but he was not done. The assassin allowed the momentum to follow by spinning counter-clockwise, connecting all of the forms he knew– repeating the move that cleanly decapitated the five pawns.

“[ Moonlight Execution-Style: Waxing Gibbous / Revolution ]”

Magic grew from the blade, taking its place, spinning like a giant saw in the image of the moon; and in its full rotation, Akiro sliced the demon twice to complete a triangle around Jester’s core. But by the end of it, the spin was too strong, flying off the grip of his right hand; and forcing him to hold on with his left— dislocating the shoulder.

Jester managed to grin, the black fog nearly touching his neck to his torso. “Fool! It doesn't matter if you carve my chest! No attack in your arsenal will ever force it out of place, not with an arm like that!”

Bang!

“You haven’t been paying enough attention then,” Akiro calmly stated, a large silver handgun billowing smoke. “Not that you had the chance to take notes.”

“What–”

Whoosh!

The demon's voice was cut short, his cracked core shattering into hundreds of shards for the kinetic force of a condensed magical projectile piercing it. The black fog dissipated from the wounds instantly, flooding from every opening of his body.

“When I figured out that we were being watched, I made sure to never take anything aside from the sniper rifle outside of my grimoire– all for this moment, to catch this fucker off-guard.”

“My effective means for killing monsters was cut in half because of you, and it feels good to finally hold my guns again.” Akiro smiled, looking at the silver piece inside his bleeding grip. Akiro returned the desert eagle into the grimoire bag on his waist, hidden by the coat.

He stared at the corpse silently, listening to the cackle of flames eating away at the corpse. He looked over once to his classmates, who were still eliminating the last of the stragglers with spells since all of the fighters were seeking healing inside the barrier.

“Sebastian isn’t looking so good.” Akiro thought, appraising the old man’s incredibly pale complexion. He was reaching his limit, his body shaking. “I need to finish this.”

“Oi,” Akiro spat, “I know you’re still alive. I know exactly what you are.”

At first, only silence answered him, but a hesitant voice, somewhat unbelieving, spoke back. It was much calmer than before, more perfected, honest, and unhindered by the compatibility of its ‘vessel.’

“H̴̛̟̺̓͂̓̚͝ō̶͚̹w̷̢̛͇̮̯̭̓̃̈́͝ ̵̲̜̐̑̋d̸̙̣͎̺̩̼̊ȋ̷̡͔̝̱̝̯̑͝d̵̖̑̏̌́͠͠ ̵̞̩̝̲̒̅̽y̶̛͔͒̾̌̕ô̶̼̘̳̥̅̅̀̌͠ṵ̸̦̬̤͒̅̚ ̸̹̀̔k̸̻͓̠̗̼̐̄̊̋n̶̨̧̖̝̓̓͝ỏ̷̡͇̳̙͕͑̂̽̐̈́ẅ̶̟͉́̉͠?̷̨̆̊̀̍͌̀’”

“If your eyes are as sharp as mine, there’s a lot of things you don’t miss… even if you wished you didn’t see it,” Akiro answered truthfully, thinking back to Kaiser’s last words. He did not hear him, but with his eyes, he deduced the situation from Jester’s hushed whisper.

“T̷͖̿̚ṣ̷͍͗̈́k̸̞̭͠,̸̬̺͝ ̸̰̏͆ṯ̸̿o̵͚͍͑̕ ̵̦̈̍t̴͙̟̾͠ḣ̷̤i̴̟͠͝n̷̫͎̾̉k̵̠̉͑ ̸̱̻̓̽t̶̩̼̂̓h̴̥̕ạ̶̈́͗t̴̹̓̐ ̴̬̺́Í̸̼͑,̴̝̠̏ ̶̼̓́w̶͕̦͌̈́o̷̦͔̾͂u̶̟͝l̸̖̕d̸̀ͅ ̷͓͇̓͗b̵̮̽̾ë̸̯͊͜ ̷̳̺̒r̵̫̾̏e̷̱̓ḓ̸̲̽u̶̡͚̔͝č̷̪̙̈́ḙ̸͚̓d̷͉́̚ ̴̧̋͋t̵͉͛́o̴̜̠͘ ̵̬̘͂ş̷͎̊̑ư̷͓͓̆c̴͎̤̄ḥ̵̠̒ ̴̧̱̚a̸̗͆ ̵̨̎͜s̴̱̍t̸̘͗͆ä̸̱́t̵̙̥͆e̵̪̺͋”

Akiro shrugged, drawing his katana with his right hand, his left arm now unusable for the time being. He had barely any strength, not after unleashing five powerful skills– four in quick succession. “Not a fan of being humbled? Me neither, but in this world– there's always a bigger fish.”

“p̷̟̄l̶̪͗e̶̪͂ấ̸̼s̸̻̀͠ȇ̴͉ͅ,̴͔̯̈́ ̴̺̈́d̸͍̩͛̊o̴͙̰̊n̷̘̆̂'̶͙̗̅t̷̜̻̓ ̷̟͇̈p̷̩̹͂a̴̯͋̍t̷̫͛r̶͚̔̔o̴̖͝ñ̷̡͚ḯ̷̙ś̴͖͜z̶̝̑͠e̸̖͋ ̴͓̥̿̊m̷͕̅͐e̵̥̠͝,̶̣̜̃̐ ̶̝̍͌h̸̠͕̒u̸͍̦̒m̷͓̿̕a̵̡̫͊n̶̨̋͝.̸̖̆̅ ̸͍̥͋”’ Jester hissed with incredibly malice, but without his physical body, it had no weight. Not immediately at least. ”Y̶͎̊ó̵͚u̶̡̽ ̷̙͘g̵͍̾o̵̰͑t̵̳̐ ̷̦̃l̵̻̍ű̵͉c̸̖̕k̵̤̈́ỳ̴̠.̵̦͋”’

“I won’t deny that.” Akiro nodded, pointing the sword at the swirling black mass gathering in front of him. “He doesn't have anything when I appraise him, is this it? I can’t believe it.”

[ Name: Jester / Age: 5,780,707,089 / Race: Demon - Phantasmal, Demonized Fairy / Job: Summoner / Sub-Job: Spirit-Summoner ] [ Title: Jester of the Demon Emperor’s Court, Seventh Cardinal. ] [ Lvl: 1000 ] [ ATK: 0 / STR: 0 / DEX: 0 / SPD: 0 / DEF: 0 / INT: ???,??? / MANA: ???,??? ] “For someone nearly 5.7 billion years old, you’re quite lackluster.”

“I̶̬̪̺͓͛̈́ ̸̤̤̤͂̇̈́̄k̵̼̗̻̕ṋ̸̲̌͗ê̸͎̥͜w̴̛̝̮͓̜͌̃͂ ̷̄̚ͅȉ̷͔̱̣̜̈́̉̓ṭ̵̛̛.̸̢̃̅”’ The phantasmal cloud remarked softly, “Ỹ̶̪̠̻̌̇̎̌ọ̴̬̇̉̚ü̵̝̘̝̲̣̓͆̋̎ ̵̰̼̹̮̊̅͊h̶͈̮̙̜̻͐̈́̈́̕͘a̷͈̔͛͑́̊ṿ̶̧̘̤͋̏͑͛͌e̸̼͒̈̉ ̶̛̝̖̰̩̹͌͑t̴̫̭̤͐̏͝h̸̨̲̭͌͜o̴̜̯̳͙̮͆̓̑̽̈ṡ̸̖̺̣̰̠̈͂͐e̴͙̳̾͠ ̴̖̙͠ȩ̶̧̻̬̥̔ý̴͚̦͒ê̴̬̙͖̋̇͠͝s̴͖̮̯̑̉͠.̸̨̣̝̙̎͛.̷̛̘̳̟̘̘̈́.̵͔̗̰͐”’

“Come again?” Akiro blinked, puzzled as to what the demon meant. To which Jester replied, not answering the question, continuing to speak.

““̶̛̟͈̟͙͍͆͘v̷̯̠͒̈́ȉ̴̯̤̻̫͠g̸̢̹̣͗i̸͉̭͍̠̻̐̆̑͗̈l̶̜̜̖͍͖͛̋̅́̚,̴̻͕̖͑̋ ̴̗̰̩̙̏̇͒v̵͚̟̀́̔̀ę̷͉̠̂͛̌̋r̵̗̈́i̴͚̱̞̍d̶̡̗͓̫̒̃̀̍͜ỉ̶̛͉̀͜͜ͅc̶͖̝̗̍͊͂̓̄ǔ̷̡s̶͔̹̮̯̞̽̓̂,̸̨̐͆͊̋ ̶̱̳͚̉̍̄͌c̴̯̝͔̜̗͆u̴̖͒̀̌̑ͅs̷̨̢̨̜̼̿̆́͌͝t̴̮̫̂̽o̴̭͊̏́̀͝s̵̨̛̘̜̤͓̎,̴̛͕̺̪̑̉̿̓ ̷͓̲̀̌̉͊͛ȯ̴̱͓͔͎̰̐̐c̶͉̞̘̗̟̏̏͘͝ū̸̦̄̈́͂͠l̶̰̫̆̃̚̕u̶̗͖͊̒̑͘͝ś̸̪͔̩̰͒͂͝ͅ ̴̧̗̠̔̄͋̒̉ͅd̷͔͓̋̐̄̑e̴̤͇̩̐̋͑ȋ̶̡̖͙͍̉̀” The demon huffed, recalling knowledge from deep within his memory.

“Vigil, veridicus, custos, oculus dei?-- Latin?” Akiro deduced, using his language comprehension skill, that he was not knowledgeable enough to ascertain what it truly meant. “Is that your native tongue?”

“Ľ̵̫̼a̵͈͇̓ṱ̴́̇i̴̗͘n̶̰͖̉͐.̷̜̂.̴̫̏.̵̢͛͐ỵ̵̍ḙ̷̾̽ṣ̷̫̈.̷̡̪͐”” Jester replied, his voice growing softer as his existence waned from the lack of his physical form.“Ṱ̶͖͊̓h̴̰̹̃e̶̦͋̔ ̸͉̒E̷̼͑͝m̵͈͍̊p̷̛͕̫͌ë̴͈̻́ȓ̷̢̯̓o̴̭̐r̴̗͂̔ ̴̹̪͛͋c̶̞͊ā̵͕l̷͈̊l̶͖͇̍e̶͓̯̚d̸̲͠ ̶̮͕̿ì̷̘͝t̸̮̺̆ ̸̧̜̋t̷̟̰̿ẖ̵͓͌̆a̸̰͒̚ť̸̎͜.̷̞̓͐”’

“I don’t think I can even fathom this ‘Emperor’ of his. Not only that, his existence is still quite powerful– even if he’s currently powerless. Not only is he intelligent, he’s a trickster by trade, and so there is nothing useful that will come out of his mouth.”

“Even if there were truths mixed in, he would only try his best to divert our efforts in getting stronger. His loyalty is commendable at least.”

“Sure.” Akiro rolled his eyes at the demon, putting away the sword and hoisting the scythe, the fog afraid of the weapon in his hand, rather than the one before it.

Despite being an entity able to resist physical, and probably magical attacks, it was aware of its weakness. “Any last words, any curses or tragic backstory that I should know?”

“O̷̱̦̮̓̎͜h̴͈͓̮͂,̷͍̫̻̞̃̇͌̈̉ ̶͔̗͛̋ţ̶̨̛͈̱̬̩̍́̎h̴͕̙͆̄͆̎ẽ̶͍͓͍̪̩̳͠͝r̸̪̓͗̾̈̃͝ě̴̟̟̣͍͕̈́̃̆ͅ ̶̟̍̀́͆̊̓i̵̱͋͠s̶̝̈̔̌͋͝-̵̨̣̭̖͉̪̄̑͑̏͝-̷̛̥̬͇̗̙̘͂̈́͌͑͋ ̵̨̺̇͑̍́y̷̧͇̻͂͜o̴̧̝̠͎̊͋ŭ̸̧̲̯̦̫ ̴̖̈́̚̚͠s̸͇͑̈́̽͆͘̚ͅt̸̮̜̙̊ḯ̸̡͚͔̥̻̼͛̌̉̕l̷̰̱͓̦̖͌̅̑l̵̬̒̂̀ ̵͕̜̊͒̈́́͠h̸̛̗̜̉̊̀a̶͓̿̅̒̚v̸̡̨̨̻̫̱̔̓̀̃͗e̸̡̟͎̳̎̊̌ͅ ̶͔́̈́̿̄͗a̷̧̭̣̥̒͆̑ ̸̝͎̱̞͙̊l̶̡̧̜̮̺̒̈́̅͗̚̕o̴̡̭͚̓͗͛̂̏͘n̷̗̩̳͚͙̹̈̌̎̀̊̏g̸̢͕͔̖̱̭̈́̃̔͗̂̕ ̶͓͎̮̗͘w̴͗̅͆̍̚͜a̵̹̞͔͔̟͚͊̇̅͐͠ỵ̵̖̭̦͇̖̌̀̎́͝ ̷͙̹̜̱͎͐̊t̷̞͍̦̠̣͙͋̈́̿̾o̶̥̦̪͌ ̵̖͙͇͔̾͗g̵̡̩͇̯͂͜ơ̵̢͚͖̦͐ͅ.̵̡̗̣̞̒̏̉͌̕ ̴̨̰̯͉̦̹̇̓”’ Jester hummed, the black fog starting to condense.

Akiro sensed the mischief in the demon’s voice, and he immediately lunged for the fog. His eyes followed the fog, which began to fly towards the magicians– Sebastian’s barrier waning.

“No!” He screamed, stumbling over his toes. Akiro pushed against the ground with all he had, bellowing as loud as he could. “It’s not over yet!

Takumi gasped for air, hungrily gulping down as much as he could, his vocal cords strained. “[ Ice Magic: Icicle Bolt ]!”

Whosh!

An arrow flew from his extended arm, an ice projectile taking the shape of an arrow. The caster’s eyes began to close, only to open to see the attack land and freeze the last of the remaining water summons.

“Y-Ye…s-sh–” He celebrated silently, falling back into the arms of his slaves. “It’s…over…”

“Master!”

Takumi grinned at the calloused arms of the bandit he had raised, weakly offering reassurance. “I-I’m fine…Sam, just tired is all…”

Not soon after he said those words, his body’s aching sores began to leave him, soothing warmth encompassing his body. He turned to the excommunicated clergywoman, smiling, “We did it…Sasha. We survived.”

“Yes, Master– we did.”

The golden barrier surrounding the group slowly began to wane, the golden hue turning yellow, and then transparent. The priest who stood in the center collapsed on his knees, his staff falling from his hands, and his wrinkled complexion even older than before. “It’s…over.”

His falling form was held up by Akiko, her bloodied armor smearing his clean clothes, “It’s okay, old man…we did it. You can rest now.”

The priest’s eyes closed at the reassurance, seeking respite after straining his old body for so long, only for them to shoot open at a desperate plea. A voice, so hoarse it was painful just listening to it– the worry etched into every grating syllable

“It’s not over yet!”

The crowd’s happiness died in an instant, a gust of wind and eroding magic power blowing everyone distance away.

Whosh!

At the same time, every mind within the blast radius was breached, the Phantasmal Creature looking for suitable hosts to forcibly take.
Akiro’s face paled, his eyes explaining through instinct what Jester was after. A weak mind easily swayed, a timid mind needing constant reassurance, a mind whose will can crumble under the smallest pressure.

Only once came to mind, and amongst the victims of the spirit-eroding blast, the newly chosen host rose. The assassin’s heart stopped for a second, watching as the friend he once saw was no longer in there.

“Ah! We can speak comfortably now!” Jester spoke, sneering at Akiro’s fallen state.

“Get the hell out!” Akiro growled, glaring with incredible malice. “Get out of Toshi’s body!”

Toshio’s voice responds though he is no longer there to speak for himself– the phantasmal entity taking his place. “No can do!” The man skipped in place, spinning and tapping his feet, “Toshio…is already dead.”