The Lycan crashed through the ground, tumbling violently, stone and dust erupting around its body. Belphegor staggered upright, his chest heaving, blood dripping from his mouth. His face was torn and bruised, his body battered, yet his eyes glowed with a manic fire.
"Your strength keeps increasing," Belphegor rasped, his voice guttural, each word dragging like iron chains.
The beast rose, snarling, its fur matted with blood. It lunged.
"But so does mine," Belphegor whispered, his tone theatrical, almost reverent, as if speaking to an unseen audience. He cocked back his fist, muscles trembling, and drove it into the Lycan's chest. The impact thundered, sending the beast flying backward.
Belphegor leapt after it, descending like a hammer. His body slammed into the Lycan midair, driving it into the earth. The beast cried out, its roar echoing across the battlefield, but Belphegor did not relent. His fists fell in a storm, each blow splattering blood, each strike a drumbeat of violence. His hands became drenched, crimson dripping from his knuckles.
Then, suddenly, claws pierced his chest. The Lycan's talons buried deep, halting Belphegor's assault. His eyes widened, blood vomiting from his mouth as the beast rose beneath him, holding him aloft. The Lycan roared, its guttural cry shaking the air, its eyes locked onto Belphegor's with primal fury.
Flashback
A younger Belphegor slept in the middle of a dojo-styled training area. Around him were the mangled bodies of demons who had been his opponents.
"Young lord. You laze around too much," a demon said as he approached. He was older, with long grey hair, fuzzy like the mane of a lion.
"Oh please Sabnock, you know none of these demons give me a challenge," Belphegor replied.
"Young lord, your laziness will become a habit I promise you. Lord Lucifer will be disappointed," Sabnock said, shaking his head.
"Oh leave it Sabnock, cousin will never learn. Wonder what makes him so special that Lord Lucifer made him a candidate to replace a prince," a young girl with scales of a fish running across her skin spoke. Her eyes were a beautiful, unnatural blue, her beauty equally unnatural.
"Well Vepar. He sees power, talent, and everything that makes me great," Belphegor answered as he got up.
"Great? You? Cousin, you are subpar at most. You are already fifteen years old and what have you achieved?" Vepar asked tauntingly.
"Well then again I am only fifteen, demons live for thousands of years. I am still a child, Vepar, and yet I am a candidate for a high position. What have you done yet, huh?" Belphegor replied, clearly perturbed.
"Well young lord. Lady Vepar had been accepted into the Ars Goetia at her small age of seventeen. A position that took me five hundred years to attain. She is truly a talent as are you. You just need to work," Sabnock said as Vepar smirked at Belphegor.
"Seems I am better than you, cousin," Vepar replied. Belphegor clenched his fists and gritted his teeth.
"I declare, I will become the strongest demon who has ever lived. I will attain so much strength that I will be able to laze about and you will not be able to say anything! That is what I will do!" Belphegor shouted as he stormed out.
Return to Battle
Belphegor's eyes snapped open, rage burning. How dare I forget? How dare my laziness dull my memory. I am the strongest demon who has ever lived! I am Belphegor!
He let out a battle cry, raw and primal, punching the beast with renewed fury. The Lycan staggered, then hurled him aside.
Belphegor rose, blood dripping, his voice booming across the battlefield. "We end this now! Come at me!"
The Lycan roared, charging. Belphegor braced, his mind echoing: Vepar, Sabnock… witness me.
The two collided, fists and claws tearing flesh, bones fracturing under the relentless exchange. Belphegor's face split, blood pouring, yet he stood his ground. The Lycan's jaw cracked, its fur torn, yet it did not falter.
The battle became a grotesque theatre of violence — each blow a line, each roar a chorus.
Finally, both struck simultaneously. Belphegor's fist shattered against the beast's skull as the Lycan's claws tore into his ribs. Both collapsed, blood spraying, their bodies broken.
Belphegor vomited blood, his chest heaving. The Lycan's fur fell away, its body mass dwindling. Soon, both lay unconscious, sprawled across the battlefield like fallen actors at the end of a tragic play.
Meanwhile
Azazel soared through the sky, swarms of flies clawing at him, their buzzing deafening. His blade flashed, cutting through the tide, but the swarm pressed harder.
"Your game of run away will not defeat me, Azazel!" Beelzebub roared, his voice dripping venom.
Azazel dove, his speed insane, his blade slicing Beelzebub in half at the waist. Blood sprayed, but from the wound erupted another swarm, engulfing him.
"Pity our game ended just like that," Beelzebub sneered.
But then — light. A sharp, blinding radiance ripped through the swarm. An explosion followed, obliterating the flies.
Beelzebub's eyes widened. "What!! Impossible!!"
Azazel's hands were charred, his body burned, but his voice was steady. "I hate that you forced me to use that."
"Holy Spell: Ark," Azazel declared. "The divine spell of the angels. I was an angel. Of course I remember. But it scars the body. That is why I switch with the boy."
"Yes," Adriano's voice echoed within him.
"We will fight in tandem. I will switch when we fire Ark, to minimize damage. Together, we kill you." Azazel's eyes flickered, one reverting to Adriano's. Their voices merged, eerie and unified.
Beelzebub sneered. "You weaken yourself."
Azazel's aura flared. "Absolutely not. We are stronger together. Prepare yourself, demon."
The fallen angel charged, Beelzebub unleashing swarms. Azazel fired Arks, divine explosions obliterating the tide. Beelzebub panicked, his composure cracking.
"You will die!!! Draining Spell: Beelzebub Finale!!" he screamed, unleashing a wave of flies fifty feet tall.
Azazel's hand glowed green. "Elven Magic: Hunter's Arrow." He hurled it, the arrow ricocheting above. "Transfer." In an instant, he switched places with it, blade poised.
"You believe you are more intelligent than I?!" Beelzebub shrieked, his voice breaking. The swarm engulfed them both.
Azazel's merged voice thundered. "Divine Spell: Ark Fulmination!"
A white light erupted, burning away the swarm, stripping Beelzebub's protective form. His true body was revealed — a grotesque, fly-like monstrosity.
"Evil shall be revealed under their Ark," Adriano muttered grimly.
Beelzebub's compound eyes widened in terror. He tried to plead, but Azazel's cold gaze silenced him.
"Don't bother," Azazel said, his voice theatrical, final. His blade cleaved, slicing Beelzebub in half. Blood sprayed, his body collapsing with a grotesque thud.
Azazel landed, his body scorched, his aura dimming. He looked down at the corpse, his voice low, disdainful. "Pathetic."
He turned, walking away, his silhouette framed against the burning battlefield, the theatre of war closing its curtain on another prince.
Elsewhere…
Sabnock approached Vepar, who sat at the edge of a balcony, her scales glistening faintly in the moonlight.
"Lady Vepar, the Seven Princes and their six hundred and sixty-six legions have been locked in battle at the human city of Tarth. My spy tells me there are heavy losses… on both sides," Sabnock said.
Vepar turned, her unnatural blue eyes narrowing. "What of cousin?"
"I do not know how the young lord is," Sabnock replied.
"I hear you, thank you. Leviathan, you hear that? Seems the princes will have openings. This may be our chance," Vepar said as a looming figure shifted in the shadows behind her, watching silently.