Chapter 85: O' Foul Demon
(Alduin)
Man, I thought Tiamat's blood would come in clutch for me here, but this mist is way more complicated than I thought it'd be. It doesn't just disorient you, it changes the very space you reside in. Shifting and molding it thousands of times a second to ensure you never obtained the smallest window of opportunity to make heads or tails of where you were. 'A sentient labyrinth', would be an apt description.
Damn. Maybe I should've thought twice before dashing head-first into a bizarre maelstrom of thick purple smog.
Still, there should be some 'rules' to how Dimension Lost operates, shouldn't there?
Alright Alduin, let's try using some of that intelligence I know you've got stashed up there somewhere.
This is a sub-dimension. The same as Urakyoto. What two factors affect the functionality of a sub-dimension? Size and content. The larger it is, the more energy you need to maintain the space's wide perimeter, and the same applies to the number of people, and the strength of those people inside it. However, whether those people are 'allies' or 'enemies' also makes a difference. Why? Because it determines the presence or absence of 'resistance'.
Take me, for example. I'm actively making an effort to resist this space, obviously, that alone isn't nearly enough to disarm a Longinus-tier Sacred Gear. I'm not Sirzechs or Lord Beelzebub. However, it does mean my Satan-Class demonic power's actively clashing with the mist—while the mist itself fights back to keep me contained. Hence, energy consumption.
It'd be a lot nicer if I could resist with Ki too, but any and all traces of Urakyoto's lifeforce has been cut off from this sub-space. Which is probably the worst sensation I've ever had the displeasure of experiencing, and that's an understatement. It's like I've had a limb severed off.
Since I first learned to wield Ki, I've never experienced a moment in my life—not one—where I haven't been able to feel its warmth. It's guiding hand expanding my senses and making it virtually impossible for anyone to get the jump on me, save for a superior Senjutsu practitioner. Namely, the woman I was conceived by.
I hate this, I really do, but Yasaka assigned me the duty of getting rid of whoever it is that's responsible for this mist, and I'm not leaving until that's done.
Back to the topic of energy consumption, the drain on Dimension Lost is bound to quadruple the moment it touches the headquarters, where Serafall and Yasaka are. However, even under those circumstances, I can't say with absolute certainty it'll break the Sacred Gear's hold. This isn't just a normal activation after all, this is the Balance Break of a top-tier Longinus. A supposed 'god killer'.
"Wait… what about the wielder?" I muttered aloud, just realizing my failure to consider one of, if not the most crucial factors.
Sacred Gears can only be wielded by a human. Humans aren't like us supernatural creatures, their power reserves aren't nearly as deep as ours. Their bodies aren't designed to sustain long, drawn-out engagements against other forces of nature. Granted, there's a chance the wielder's a half-human, like Gasper or perhaps even a reincarnated creature like Isaiah. But the possibility's still on the table.
Before I entered the mist, I used Fafnir's power to throw a draconic javelin into the smog. A test to see if I could learn anything worthwhile about the foggy substance, which I failed to do.
But in hindsight, relocating something with an energy level like that's bound to eat at Dimension Lost's energy, right? So wouldn't that mean it's technically possible to brute force one's way out of here? Provided you have enough brute force to throw around?
"I guess there's only way to find out," I opened my palm, cells packed to the brim with demonic power rushing to my appendage. Preparing to launch a sizable attack on the mist in order to give my theory a test-run…
Only for me to be interrupted before I could do so.
I halted, noticing the violet mist that surrounded me on all angles started to shift, the colorless terrain I was standing on shifting from that of one of Kyoto's many tourist-welcoming streets to a decorated, historic bridge that spanned over the replica city's only river. A change invoked by no action of my own, but that of the Sacred Gear's owner.
My nose twitched. The sweet innocent scent of the Biblical God's favorite creation, embedded into my devil DNA, wafted through the atmosphere. With dilated, predatory reptilian pupils, I turned around. Coming face-to-face with a merry band of seven humans, all looking at me with varied expressions of curiosity and caution.
The group audacious enough to launch an assault on the West Yōkai Faction.
"Oh, hey there." I waved, offering them a curt, semi-humorful welcome. They had decided to reach out to me after all, it'd be rude of me not to show a little courtesy in return.
Of the seven, only three caught my particular attention. Not by virtue of their auras, since I could hardly perceive them in this Ki-less sub-dimension, but through the draconic instinct embedded into my blood. Its awareness subconsciously guided my vision to those it deemed to be 'worth my time'. Just as arrogant as it was accurate.
The first, a young man of eastern descent, his hair obsidian-stained, wavy, and messy as could be. A figure who made the extraordinarily bizarre decision to wear a Japanese school uniform to a raid on Yasaka's faction.
What is he? Part-time student, part-time supernatural terrorist?
The second, a bespectacled young man who was the same as the first in both age, and his decision to bring a school uniform to a battle. A dark crimson overcoat rested atop the uniform, fashioned like that of a traditional, fantasy-book mage.
Perhaps he's a bit of a Chuunibyou? Eh, I shouldn't judge him too hard. He seems young.
Speaking of which, the third figure appeared to be a straight up child. Unless he's some century-old lunatic that managed to attain immortality, which I doubt, since his scent is that of a 100%, pure, tried and true human.
His hair was an unorthodox shade of grayish-blue, and his coat more aristocratic in nature in comparison to the glasses-wearer.
As for the other four? Complete riffraff. Ants. Passing wind. They don't have the same 'radiance' the others do, at least from the perspective of my instinctual rationale. Then again, it's possible they have something up their sleeve a dragon just isn't capable of perceiving in advance. Life has a tendency to be full of surprises and all.
"He's a hybrid, Cao Cao." Glasses spoke, addressing the eastern individual. "Are you sure you want to waste your time on someone that isn't even a true dragon? Fighting him won't be anything like the real deal."
The addressee, 'Cao Cao', simply laughed in return. His laughter strangely similar to that of a general you'd see in a cheesy Chinese drama. "So what? He isn't a human, and he's strong. His other half's a devil, isn't it Georg? By their terms he'd probably be Satan-Class!" His voice roared with excitement. A bonafide kid in a candy shop.
Tch. He's lucky I can't mask myself with Ki here, or trick the dimensional mist with Partial Hypnosis. I would've disguised myself as a laughably weak Yōkai and gotten the jump on all seven of these weirdos if I could.
Oh well, when life gives you lemons… lemonade and such.
I can deal with the other four no problemo, it's just these other three I feel obligated to take more seriously. A Buné straight-forward, power-idiot style rush doesn't seem appropriate here. I need to approach with caution: their abilities, strengths, weaknesses, formation. All crucial elements to achieve a sound victory.
"Good grief…" 'Georg' dismayed, sliding his fingers down the edges of his nasal structure. His face is that of an exasperated, disappointed parent.
It wasn't hard to read the atmosphere. Georg wants to proceed with something, which I presume is related to Yasaka, since none of them appear to have been aware of my presence in advance. But Cao Cao's got the face of a classic, Shonen battle maniac. He wants to fight me, and he's disobeying Georg in order to do so.
Common logic suggests Cao Cao's the leader, he's standing at the very front after all, not to mention how he carries himself like a free-spirited, uncaged bird. Barely encumbered. The world his oyster, and the clouds gliding beneath his feet. All that fun jazz.
Continuing that logic, Georg should be the straight man, the way he talks and conducts himself screams the word 'tactician'. Tacticians are usually the second-in-command, the right hand of the 'star', or 'general'... he is 'Cao Cao' after all. Not sure why he named himself after an ancient Chinese Warlord, but to each their own.
"You," Georg pointed straight at me. "Why are you even here, devil? What relationship does the Underworld have with the West Yōkai Faction?"
Immediately, I could tell he didn't actually expect a forthcoming answer from me. He wouldn't be much of a tactician if he did. Instead, he was looking to get a cold-read on me. A bold strategy to unearth the true meaning behind words of falsehood.
I admire the attempt, I really do. Unfortunately, my father beat the concept of 'emotional control' into me for fourteen years straight. Unless you're my mother or possess high-level truth discretion, I'm free to lie through my teeth all I want while you remain none the wiser.
"Relationship?" Brazenly, I laughed in his face. "What relationship? I just came here to see if the rumors about the Kyuubi's looks were true, and let me tell ya', if anything, they're watered down! I'm tryna see if she's down to hook up. Until you all came here and interrupted me… that is."
Restraining the urge to laugh again in self-mocking, I morphed my facial expression. Transforming it into that of a classic full-of-himself young devil heir. It wasn't hard to do, I just had to make the same face my mother did whenever someone had the nerve to breathe in her presence.
Unamused, Georg shook his head from side to side. "I'm not sure what else I should've expected from one of your kind."
I snickered. "Prejudice much?"
Choosing to ignore me, Georg pushed his glasses up. "Jeanne, Heracles, Connla, Siegfried." He called out four names, which, funnily enough, were revealed to be those of the four 'ants' I had pinpointed from the get-go. "I'm sending you ahead, you know how to activate the sealing spell. See to it that you don't fail."
He reached into his coat and pulled out a bright-yellow talisman, its magical signature awfully dense and profound, equal to the full scope of an Ultimate-Class Devil's reserves, and its surface littered with bright-red Kanji characters which I couldn't decipher. A devil's power of translation is designed for verbal communication, not written.
Then—the mist started to swish and sway. It rolled inwards, conforming around the four individuals and blanketing them in its embrace. A second passed. Then two. Then three, and on the fourth, the mist moved once more. Outwards this time. The position where the four were standing revealed to my eyes, only for them to have vanished into thin air. Transported elsewhere.
"I see," aloud, I muttered under my breath.
Georg's the one in control of Dimension Lost. It makes sense seeing he's the strategist and all, I just assumed it was a little too convenient to be true.
I feel for the insects, if only Georg had let the mist reach the headquarters before bringing me over on his leader's request, he would've known that he had just handed them to the Satan Leviathan on a silver platter.
"Make this quick, Cao Cao." Georg advised, taking a step back, as if involving himself in the battle Cao Cao wanted to share with me would be a grave offense. Respect towards a battle maniac's integrity, I presume.
"Quick? Hah! Where would be the fun in that? A battle like this ought to be savored!" It was hard to describe, but I noticed a subtle, trickling change in Cao Cao's demeanor. A layer of frigid ice carefully hidden beneath a purposefully warm, bubbly exterior. "Especially when I'm executing my responsibility to get rid of such vermin."
I watched him closely: the way his voice lost jubilance, the sudden deadness in his now half-lidded eyes, the intense bloodlust he directed my way—the personal kind that you'd direct to someone who had personally wronged you. Not an opponent you not only didn't expect to see, but were meeting for the first time. It was like he interpreted my very existence, the fact that I was standing here in front of him alone, as a personal insult.
Yeah, this guy's showing all the telltale signs of someone with serious mental issues.
In all fairness, I'm the last person who gets to judge him for that.
Cao Cao's posture stiffened, laid back observation replaced with firm battle readiness. A smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, his eyes surveying me with the look of someone who believed my death was only a matter of when, not if.
"Try not to disappoint me, my dear devil-dragon."
He extended his arm out to the side and opened his hand, a cluster of small, intense, bright-blue particles forming towards his skin. Their signatures caused me to take a reflexive, unavoidable step backwards. What is this? I shuddered. They radiated the same, terrifying power as Azazel's Light Magic… no… even greater. More force, more energy. Too great for a human to bear, even if they were directly blessed by all of Heaven's Seraphs at once.
The particles gave form to a familiar shape—a spear. Extremely long, at least two meters. Its staff a dark, navy blue with winding, golden-scaled accessories attached to its upper half. Like spiraling dragons attempting to reach its precipice. Its tip was a ferocious, blinding white. Covered in the strange, latent smell of blood that had no business existing on a weapon that had only just been summoned. The scent itself burdening me with a splitting migraine. As if I didn't have the 'right' to smell it all, whatever that was supposed to mean.
"You're curious, aren't you? Why there's goosebumps on your skin? Why the hairs across your arms are all raised at attention?" He relished in my reaction. Spinning his spear with masterful dexterity and balancing it over his shoulders. "But only half of you is reacting to it, correct? Your devil side's scared shitless, but your dragon side remains unmoved."
I replied with nervous laughter, for I didn't know what else to do. Other than trying to call upon my training to keep my nerves in order. "Is this the part where you give me an in-depth, detailed explanation of how your power works?"
"Why not? It's not like it'll make a difference," the sheer magnitude of his self-assurance frustrated me. "This is a Sacred Gear. True Longinus. The top Longinus, the strongest Sacred Gear a human could ever hope to possess. The spear that Saint Longinus used to pierce Jesus Christ himself, soaking its alloy in his blood!" His grin stretched from ear-to-ear. Ecstatic. "The holiest of weapons granted to none other than ME! A divine purpose! All for the sake of ridding humanity of the filth that walks—"
"Cao Cao," Georg's voice snapped him out of his trance. "Focus. We have work to do."
Mildly embarrassed, Cao Cao coughed. "Right. Sorry, got a little too into the rhythm there." He spun the spear again, pointing it towards me. "Shall we?"
Inwardly, I couldn't help but curse.
Seriously, of all the people I could've run into, what are the chances of me coming face-to-face with the wielder of the holy relics of all holy relics? Does God himself have some kind of personal grudge against me? You know, besides me being a devil and all.
"It doesn't seem like I have much of a choice."
///
Alduin runs into True Longinus. Four unfortunate members of the Hero Faction run into a Satan.
A boss encounter for a boss encounter. Perfectly balanced, as all things should be.
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