In the span of just thirty seconds, the battle is almost entirely won. As it turns out, when every wound upon your soldiers vanishes just as quickly as it arrived, it becomes quite difficult to lose a battle.
Especially when you've a dragon fighting for your side.
Diamor looks like the world's closed in around him. There's a unique form of helplessness in his eyes, one I'm becoming more familiar with as time goes by, one I can see through the harsh gritting of his teeth.
Desperation.
I can't help but love the sight of it. Whether that love be my own, or a result of the Blood Empowerment, I don't know anymore.
Screams echo in the air, dust falling from the sky as Loyalists are vaporised left and right by Alduin's lightning. Every cry of his tripartite heads brings with it a symphony of his victims' own as they struggle to hide, to protect themselves, some surrendering on the spot.
Serafall, realising the battle is all but won now, seems more than content to sit back and watch this last victory cry unfold, her eyes gleaming with pride I hate the sight of.
The blood-borne horns atop my skull make me look the part of the Devil as these soldiers stare at me with blatant terror in their eyes. I can't help but bask in the euphoria such power brings, my arms raised as I walk forward, grinning ear to ear.
Spells of all types crash into my body. Wind, fire, lightning, even just bolts of pure Mana. Every wound is healed away in the blink of an eye, as though it never existed. The black and red marks that trail up my skin pulsate and glow rhythmically with each step I take, in sync with my own heartbeat. The Instinct blares in my mind constantly, a klaxon I pay no attention to, lost in my own laughter.
Some Loyalists simply turn and fly away, or run and hide, as I approach. Others choose to stand their ground. They try to stop me, and continue to try as many times as they can, as many times as their bodies will allow. My neck is sliced into regularly, limbs blown away, body set aflame with scorching heat and millions of volts of electricity, skull pierced with all manner of projectiles.
Yet still, I walk forward unimpeded.
The pain of each wound is nullified as quickly as it arrives, but never forgotten, the trail of my own abandoned pieces following behind me a testament to the memory.
Each step I take echoes louder across the battlefield than Alduin's most hoarse cries.
Diamor can only grit his teeth at the sight. His body shudders with rage, eyes wide open and bloodshot as he stares at me with a hatred so visceral I can almost taste it.
"How dare you..." he seethes, a hand braced against his shattered fist as he heaves each breath through panting lungs.
Strength then swells from within his body, fury fueling his every action. For a moment, I'm back in Cain's Throne, a weak man staring down the Accursed himself as his body shakes with unmatched power...
But Diamor is nothing compared to Ludwig.
Before the Belial can even blink, the distance between us becomes mere centimeters, my fist buried deep within his stomach. He gags, spittle flying from his mouth as he crashes into a stone fencing immediately after, body lost beneath a sea of rock and rubble.
I can't help but taunt him.
"Are you still having fun, Diamor? Have I impressed you yet!?"
He slams his fist into the ground and screams out his frustration, wings drawn to fly up from the rubble as he throws himself forward once more. I grin, meeting him halfway, our collision resulting in a violent blast of air, Diamor's arm thrown back.
His eyes widen, pupils dilating as time slows to a crawl. He stands there, paralysed as my follow-up tears through the air, my strike missing ever so slightly after a gust of wind he hastily forms pushes my arm aside.
Thinking quickly, I take a half-step forward immediately after, wrapping my overextended arm around his head and slamming my forehead against his nose, the bone crushed with single vicious crack.
He cries out in delirious pain, one hand cradling shattered bone and the other forming another blade that he wildly swings in my direction. The construct slices into my chest once, twice, flesh and fabric torn apart on the edge of his blade.
-5429HP!
Diamor grins at the sight, wings drawn to fly away and seek refuge in the sky as I grit my teeth through the pain, seeing that familiar grey mark burned across my knuckles.
[Worthlessness Override!]
Before he has the chance to back away, my hand is aflame with purple lightning, Gravity Magic dragging him straight back to the ground barely a few meters into his flight.
-2400MP!
He blinks, grunting in confused exertion as he pushes against the hold I have over him. Before he has the chance to break free, the bottom of my boot crashes into his chest, the Sonido I used to cross the distance making the strike so much more powerful.
"If you think I need the Circle active to beat you bloody, then you've clearly not been paying enough attention, Diamor!"
The Devil in question sits on one knee, his fingers having clawed into the earth to stop his momentum.
Again, he cries out in frustration as he lifts himself. Though the Circle is gone, I've still got every last Stat Point from the Blood Empowerment. As things stand, I am far, far stronger than him, the gap between us only growing as this battle lengthens.
That's not to say his durability is something to scoff at, though.
"Shut up and fight me, half-breed!" He cries, wiping a trail of blood from his lip and bracing himself to charge forward again.
Grinning, I decide to do just that, throwing myself at him in the blink of an eye and aiming directly for his jaw. Diamor, suddenly far more capable now, bats my fist away, his foot lashing out and crashing into my knee.
Dropping down involuntarily, I have barely a second to react before Diamor's fist barrels towards my face once more, several Magic Circles lighting up beneath me alongside it.
The Doppelganger appears at my side like a guardian angel, fist colliding with Diamor's own. I then Blink and take the constructs place, mere moments before the Magic Circles activate and a sea of blades thrust into the spot I once occupied.
The blades then shift their form and rise into air, thousands of razor sharp shards of Mana now flying towards me as Diamor lunges forward, a palm to my chest throwing me into the swarm of blades.
Grimacing, I draw out my wing and Sonido into the air before they make contact, less than a second to brace myself as Diamor chases my ascent, his fist throwing me further up after it smashes into my cross-guarding arms, the action repeated several times over as he throws his body and soul into every strike.
Once again, I am reminded of the fact that for all my talents, all my Skills and abilities, I am still just an amateur fighter with anything other than Caduceus. What a shame it is then, that every fucking Devil wears full plate armour, rendering the weapon near useless.
Thankfully, I have a weapon that works just fine in this situation, one I make use of as I grin, looking over Diamor's shoulder.
"Alduin!"
Diamor panics, fear in his eyes, turning his body on the spot and bracing for an attack from the dragon...
...but he finds absolutely nothing.
Having fallen for the bait, Diamor can do nothing but grit his teeth as I Sonido into his back knee first, a choked cry escaping him as he is flung through the air.
The Doppelganger then appears directly in Diamor's flight path, arm extended and grabbing him by the skull, halting his momentum entirely. Diamor, recognising the precarious position, casts a Magic Circle onto his back and tries to eviscerate the Doppelganger before it attacks, Mana swelling from his Crest-
My fist craters into his stomach before he can finish casting the Spell, spittle flying from his mouth as he gags, the Doppelganger spinning in the air to slam a chitinous foot of his own into the Belial's skull immediately after.
He falls to the earth like a meteorite, body crashing back down into the streets of Chastinal. Satanihilus and Loyalist alike watch on in utter astonishment as he stares up at the sky, resignation in his eyes.
Before I go down to continue our brawl, I look to the Doppelganger at my side, the clone kneeling in respect. Patting his own set of horns on the side, I smile.
"Thanks for the help, buddy."
------------------------------------
"You worthless fucking cockroach!"
Diamor's hatred is so visceral that I almost feel flattered at his choked cries, landing several meters away. I find myself laughing at the apt description as the Devil struggles to lift himself to a knee, rising up from his place amongst the dirt, stone, and corpses.
His every breath is heaved. His eyes, still bloodshot and frantic, glance to me. He slams his fist into the ground once more, stone pavement shattering beneath his knuckles as he finally rises on shaky legs.
"A pitiable half-breed, typical low-life trash of the Underworld! What gives you the right to even look at me!? You should be polishing my boots, kissing the ground I walk on you ungrateful wretch!"
His voice is hoarse, throat burning as every word is screamed through gritted teeth with fury unmatched, the last of his bodily strength put into cursing my name.
I have to wonder just who the real animal is at the moment.
The thought makes my smile widen even further as I respond, something I didn't think possible.
"The hateful ramblings of a dying man. The last gasps of life from a pathetic warrior, whose legacy will be confined to a mere paragraph within the pages of my own."
The meters of distance between us shortens with each rhythmic step I take. My pride clearly shows through my inflection, aggressively smug and condescending.
"Years of defending that castle, for a rotting carcass of a regime... and what did it bring you? There is no glory in this death. No honour. All you have left is the fear within your heart. Those glistening medals of yours mean nothing to the dead."
As the distance between us withers away once more into mere inches, my hand raised to the air and glowing with Gravity Magic to keep him still, Diamor grins.
I don't have much opportunity to comment on it before he suddenly spits at me, hacking out a laugh shortly after as I stand there, stunned.
It takes a long second to even register the act in my mind, but by then my every waking thought has been coloured with blood-boiling, overwhelming fury.
My grip over Caduceus tightens, bones audibly creaking as he stares down at me, chuckling heartily and just brimming with false bravado.
"Did- did really you think that spiel of yours was intimidating!? You're nothing more than a rabid dog. Oh, vile half-breed... I would rather serve a tyrant for eternity than ever fight at the Demi-fiend's side!"
He laughs again, his captured soldiers across the battlefield mirroring it.
The sound is like nails to a chalkboard in my mind. I barely even notice my sword raising before it lands against Diamor's chin, static swelling in my ears as the world around me is drowned out.
"...Then you shall die by his hand instead."
He grins. His attempts at another insult against me are interrupted by the Doppelganger's sudden reappearance, the construct kicking Diamor down to one knee and prying open his jaw. He falls down onto both a short second later, rooted to the spot, eyes hurriedly glancing to Serafall standing beside me as she watches on giddily.
Every ounce of fury that now sings within my heart is channeled into Caduceus, the sword inching forward past his lips with practiced finesse as Diamor shakes and writhes within the Doppelganger's grasp.
The Gravity Magic is gone. Any rash movement would mean his death. Diamor can do nothing but sit there and hope I don't press forward too much, Serafall now kneeling down at his side and grinning as he squirms, the threat quite clear should Diamor decide to try and fight back.
He screams, he chokes, bleeds as the blade tears through the pathetic barrier he attempts to make with his tongue and lands against the back of his mouth. It sits there, barely a finger's worth of pressure away from piercing through and severing his brain stem. All the while, Diamor stares up at me, pleading with his eyes as he shouts himself hoarse once more.
Through his desperate, barely intelligible cries, I only just make out the words 'have son' on his skewered tongue, the rest nothing more than gibberish.
Upon hearing him though, I find myself stunned briefly, my blade still.
A child. A young boy, with nothing but hope for the future and a whole life ahead of him. Does he really deserve to suffer so greatly for a war he has no part in?
...
Diamor made his choice. He said it himself, after all. If he'd rather serve a tyrant, then he can die for one as well. This is simply the consequences of those actions.
...a shame, really. It's a terrible thing, to grow up without a father-
"Wait."
Serafall's hand falls on my shoulder a mere half-second before I stab through Diamor's skull. My irritation at the sudden interruption is only amplified when I see the annoyed look in her eyes.
"Is there a reason you're stopping me from killing this man, Serafall? You've had more than enough time to stop me thus far. Hell, I'd say you've been enjoying this."
She grimaces, looking as though she were swallowing a handful of nails as she speaks.
"Look, as fun as it's been watching him get his ass kicked... Diamor Belial is to be chained up and sent to Cain's Throne for the preservation of his bloodline. Not killed. The Council gave me that order a long, long time ago, and I intend to stick to it."
My thoughts must show quite clearly on my face, because her hands are raised in mock surrender almost immediately after she speaks, hurriedly following up on herself.
"Believe me, I hate it as much as you do. It made it a whole lot more difficult to take Castle Cainhurst when I couldn't just freeze the place over and call it a day, but..."
Her words hang in the air briefly, before Serafall sighs and glances at Diamor, a smug fucking grin plastered on his face.
"Clan Belial is running dangerously close to extinction. Outside of the brothers, there's only three other members of the Belial left. The House is already in disrepair."
Aggrieved, and most importantly unsatisfied, I drag my sword free from Diamor's mouth, the man taking deep breaths and falling back as I respond, a laugh trailing from his lips.
"Well, as long as there's still one left, then I fail to see the issue here."
She sighs, arms folded. The condescending tone she puts on is enough to make my fury bubble up once more.
"Hah, maybe you've forgotten after so long, but having one, no- even two members of a Clan left standing isn't enough to guarantee their survival. Of every thousand Devils, only one has a child each year on average. It could take centuries before another member of Clan Belial is born."
I scoff, but the words on my are lips silenced at the familiar sound of hacking laughter.
Diamor chuckles to himself hoarsely at the situation, at my sudden passivity. He musters up whatever shattered fragments of confidence he has left in his heart, dragging his head up to look me in the eyes, his every slurred insult a lash against my soul.
"That's right... Demi-fiend. Be a good boy.... Listen to your handler like the dog you-!"
Faster than I've ever moved in my life, my body blurs towards Diamor, fist an agonising millimeter away from pulverising his skull before it crashes against a hastily formed ice sarcophagus that entombs Diamor along with half the street.
The shell damn near shatters after my fist slams into it, deep cracks forming across both the ice and the ground around us. A shockwave occurs the instant I make contact, both my hair and coat billowing wildly as a result.
A moment later, and the ice has been reinforced, a new layer quickly taking shape and repairing the damage I'd dealt. I take a deep breath and step away from the ice-cage, fixing my hair. My fist aches, not with pain, but dissatisfaction.
Serafall turns to me shortly after with hands on her hips, smiling as if to say 'where were we?', a bead of sweat forming on her brow.
It takes several long moments for me to compose myself and pick up our conversation where it left off, my hand clenching and unclenching at my side.
"...All these corpses around us, these dead men and women, they were all fair game before, but all of a sudden now we have to be careful? And for him no less?"
She doesn't even pause to think on it.
"Of course we do. I'm not thinking about the present, Ali. I have to think about the future of the Underworld, an Underworld that you and I are more than likely going to be leading come the end of this... hell-forsaken war."
Her tone darkens all of a sudden, her cheer gone, eyes drilling holes into my own.
"Don't be mistaken. I hate this. I loathe the fact that this snivelling prick gets to spend the rest of his life sitting comfy in those lavish cells, but I'd rather that than lose the power of Clan Belial forever. We can't afford to neuter ourselves with how vulnerable we are to the world right now."
My brow raises, frustrations still silently simmering beneath my skin that admittedly I have no right to hold given how many of these unfortunate people I've killed today.
"Vulnerable to the world?" I repeat, sword hand shaking far less than before.
"Yes. The world, any enterprising Pantheon that wants to wipe us off the map, even just someone with a grudge. The only thing stopping... I don't know- the Fallen, from sweeping across our land is Sirzechs and his big, fat, fuck you of a Mutated Trait. If it wasn't for him, we'd be in a lot more shit."
I hum, eyes glancing over to Diamor's frozen shell briefly and wishing I could just shatter it with my fist.
"I didn't realise Sirzechs was powerful enough already to act as his own deterrent. Nor that he had a Mutated Clan Trait."
She laughs again.
"I never said anything about a Mutated Clan Trait specifically. Just a Trait."
At my raised brow, her grin widens, almost seeming smug despite it being such a small matter. That doesn't stop her from elaborating on her words, thankfully.
"Sirzechs was born a High Class Devil. Without any effort or training, he came out of the womb stronger than most people in the Underworld, long before his Power of Destruction manifested. He's like a walking Mana Reactor, constantly burning. That's his true Mutation. He's just... better."
I hum in acknowledgement. She continues speaking, something about Sirzechs' training, but the words are static in my mind.
------------------------------------
My eyes glance over to Diamor yet again. It almost feels like he's taunting me beneath his cage, his grin frozen over. My fingers flex subconsciously, an urge in my mind that refuses to leave-
"Hey. Alistair."
My focus is broken, Serafall's voice and a slap of her wrist snapping my attention to her instead. Her gaze is soft, hand hesitantly reaching out to rest aside my shoulder.
"I want to kill him just as much as you do. Trust me. But this war isn't going to be won with just... blood and muscle. We need to think about what we'll have come the end of it. We need to think about our future."
For a moment, I'm almost tempted to thank her for the words of solidarity. Then, I remember just who it is giving this lecture.
"Fine." I say flatly, brushing her hand aside and walking off towards the town center where my trusted Dragon awaits.
"Wha- you can't just leave like that!"
"I think you'll find I can."
Again, I hear her squawk in astonishment. She hurriedly shatters a part of Diamor's newfound cage, wrapping a pair of shackles recently handed to her around his wrists.
The instant his powers are nullified, I cast a Prayer on myself and curse my own blood-addled stupidity. If I'd not gotten so smug and let him touch me, I could have kept the Circle alive and farmed even more Kill Contributions.
At least the horns are gone.
Distantly, I hear Serafall telling the nearby Satanihilus to wait for Diallos' arrival to take Diamor into a temporary cell, before skidding forward on a stream of ice beneath her feet to catch up to me.
"Come on, Ali! Look, I know we've got... a bit of a chip on our shoulders, but you should still be celebrating. You saved a lot of people today... Heh, after this, taking Cainhurst should be a piece of cake!"
Her grin is bright, toothy. She's practically glowing. I remain silent though, thoughts constantly falling back to Diamor's parting words. Dog, animal, the same fucking metaphors all the time. I'm the hound, and she's my handler.
"You never mentioned anything about having a dragon. That would've been real nice to know."
Her voice breaks my train of thoughts. I'm speaking before I can even think to stop.
"I did have much of a chance to. I found Alduin in Euclid's lab, and he hatched shortly after my escape. You already know what happens after that."
Serafall grimaces, suddenly regretting the topic of conversation she'd chosen. Once again though, she tries to spark some form of chatter, unnecessarily determined.
"Where did the horns come from? Come to think if it, where did they go?"
I sigh, a hand to my head.
"No idea. I drank some blood, and found myself far, far stronger all of a sudden. It certainly sounds like vampirism, but I'm sure you'd have sniffed that out by now."
Serafall hums in acknowledgement.
I can't help but wonder why she's trying to be so chummy all of a sudden. Barely a half hour ago, she was ready to throw down with me on a whim, for an utterly pointless reason no less.
Maybe she's realised now that the hound has outgrown his leash, that she can't lord her power over me anymore, threaten me with violence with the gap between us almost completely closed.
...Or maybe she just missed me a lot more than I realised.
"Well, for what it's worth I thought they looked pretty cool." She says, looking far too pleased despite my stonewalling.
At the very least, finally, there is silence now.
Instead of making idle conversation, she now just walks at my side as we take the slow path to Alduin's perch, the dragon sat atop a monument to Lucifer stood in the center of Chastinal.
A crowd has already formed around him, mamy members of the Satanihilus now sat staring at his radiance, as others haul the captured Loyalists to a temporary holding area and gather the bodies of the dead for burning.
Alduin notices me from several blocks away, Du perking up with excitement at my approach and going so far as to smack his brother's sleeping forms awake to share in the joy. Smiling, I lift a hand and wave to them, the dragon yipping and chirping.
He's strong. Much stronger than I expected. He's also... quite bloodied. I forget that he doesn't have a handy cleaning device like the Prayer to keep any viscera away.
Come to think of it, I think he's actually grown ever so slightly in the few minutes since I looked upon him last.
"We made a pretty good team, huh?"
My fatherly pride is quickly derailed by Serafall's words, and I can't help but bark out a laugh the instant they register in my mind.
"I beg your pardon?" I say, face awash in amusement as I turn to her.
She has the nerve to look embarrassed.
"Well... I just thought we worked well together against Diamor. That's all."
Again, I laugh, folding my arms.
"Either I've lost my mind, or you're far more delusional than I gave credit for. You did maybe one thing to help me during that battle, and even that's debatable."
She quickly begins smiling alongside me, her hands held together behind her back, almost seeming smug.
"Yeah, but it was a pretty important Spell. Without me, you'd still be fumbling around with your sword trying to activate a Circle of Life, so I think we can both get the credit for that one."
Her grin is infectious. I hate it... and I hate that a part of me missed this even more.
"If it was a matter of credit then you'd be getting fuck all! All you did was sit there and watch the fight- I'm half tempted to ask for payment now, actually!" I shout, amused.
She laughs airily as she responds.
"It was a damn good show. If I had any Sol on me, I'd offer you some as compensation."
Without realising, I find myself smiling. Not the same wide grin I'd worn while fighting Diamor, but a small, soft smile.
"I'll make sure to remember that the next time I wind up fighting for my life then. You can have front row tickets to the moment I cut Bidleid down if you pay me enough."
She scoffs.
"You really think I'll sit back and let you have all the fun when we reach Lucifaad? You're gonna have to get in line if you wanna be the one that guts Satan Beelzebub."
I find myself smirking as I respond.
"At the rate I've been gaining power, I doubt there's very much you'll be able to do to enforce that queue come the day."
Strangely enough, something changes behind Serafall's eyes upon hearing those words. I can't quite pin down what exactly it is that I see in her, several different emotions overlapping all at once, but there's something going on.
When she speaks though, her tone is something somber, nostalgic almost, her eyes staring at me with that same hesitant pride I'd seen before.
She looks at me like a shattered vase again. I find myself thinking of Kintsugi as a result.
"...You know, the first time I laid eyes on you, you were trapped by a handful of Low Class Devils. Now, you're tossing around the High Class like it was easy. It's... strange to see just how far you've come."
My jaw tenses at the mention of our sordid history, of the first time she saw me. Her plans, her weaponising of my talents, her blatant manipulation...
Her desperate attempts at friendship.
Her, saving my life.
Her, almost ending it.
Still, despite my own urge to end the conversation right then and there, I try to hold onto this small moment of happiness between us for as long as I can.
"To be fair, I didn't make a very good first impression. If I recall, when you found me I was being interrogated with a blindfold on."
She giggles softly at the memory.
"As if I could ever forget. The man who would one day become the Demi-fiend, just a few miles from my front door. I still can't believe you fell for that Loyalist telling you he had a 'sensation amplifying' Clan Trait."
Immediately, my eyes snap to hers.
"He was lying!?"
For a moment, she just stares at me. Then, in lieu of a proper response, Serafall falls into a fit of laughter, a hand covering her mouth in a hopeless bid to stifle it.
Seconds pass as she continues to giggle, my pride rapidly decaying, until she finally manages to compose herself.
"...Sorry, sorry. I just can't believe you've gone this long without realising it was a trick. Any extra pain you felt was probably just from your eyes being covered. Sensory compensation, I think the term was."
I sigh, smiling still despite my own annoyance at her long fit of laughter.
"I'm surprised you even know what that is."
Grinning, she places a thumb to her chest, her expression an odd mix of amused and indignant as she speaks.
"I'll have you know, I learnt a lot of things at the Academy! There's a reason I spent 13 years there. Hell, I might just be one of the most capable politicians in the Underworld right now, actually."
I find myself blinking in surprise at the number of years she studied, and the strange implications it has.
"13, huh? The Death Arcana. How ironic. Doesn't your form of diplomacy usually involve blunt force trauma and homicide?"
She winces the instant I finish, clearly hurt by my words, and I quickly realise that I've hit a rather sensitive nerve in my horrendous attempt at being a witty bastard.
"...It didn't always." She mumbles.
The conversation then falls to an abrupt, awkward silence, Serafall standing still in the middle of the street. A small, spiteful part of me is tempted to just keep walking and let her sit there in thought. I ignore it.
Frankly, I've no idea how to break this somber atmosphere, and I'm worried I'll only make things worse if I speak again.
...great job, Alistair. Ever the smooth operator, aren't you?
Fortunately for me though, Serafall takes that burden upon her own shoulders a few moments later. Unfortunately, her words are tinged with that familiar scorn once more.
"This was nice while it lasted. Guess you really can't have too much of a good thing."
She turns to me, smiling, and even I can see just how fake it is. If I didn't know any better, I'd even say it was slightly envious.
"You fought well today. Made Diamor look like bitch. You should celebrate, Ali."
She gestures to the center of Chastinal, where a large group of Satanihilus sing and make merry among themselves to honour those lost, a funeral pyre burning brightly behind them.
The sight of it makes my fist clench unconsciously. A memento of my failure.
"I'd rather not, thanks." I mutter, eyes still locked on the blazing pyre.
She hums, stretching her arms behind her back, shoulders cracking a moment later.
"Suit yourself. If you need me, I'll be training in the forest up North... You can join me if you like. Lucifer knows I'd need it."
She then cracks her knuckles, stifling a yawn as she affixes her beret.
"Try not to kill Diallos while I'm gone."
I blink in shock and mild offense at how low her expectations of me are, choosing to just nod silently to avoid cursing her out as she turns and leaves, the back of her hand waving in the air as she does so.
Several steps into her trail though, Serafall turns around once more, having forgotten something she wanted to tell me.
"Diamor won't be heading to Cain's Throne just yet. I'll be interrogating him and his soldiers in a few hours time while we wait for a proper escort. I want you there with me when it happens."
I frown in confusion, brows scrunched.
"I'm afraid I've no expertise in the sacred art of torturing a man, Serafall. I doubt I'd be able to help you much."
She grins, teeth showing at just the right angle to almost make them seem like fangs as her tone becomes aggressively smug.
"Who ever said you would be the one doing the interrogating? I just need you there to make sure I don't kill any of them."
My jaw tenses. I take a breath through gritted teeth as Serafall slowly approaches.
A part of me almost feels disgusted by the idea of using my powers for something so depraved. Another part is disappointed that I hadn't thought of it myself sooner.
"I'm afraid I can't quite match your excitement. I don't delight in the suffering of others like you do, after all."
Her grin turns downright predatory, instantly noticing my hypocrisy as she continues to take slow steps forward.
"You sure? You seemed pretty happy to torture Diamor just a few minutes ago."
I find myself struggling to word a proper response, unable to deny the fact that she's completely right.
...It felt so fucking good to watch Diamor choke and beg for mercy. To watch him squirm in my grasp. He was afraid of me.
Serafall revels in my silence.
"You can deny it all you want, tell yourself whatever helps you sleep at night, but I'd recognise that brutality of yours anywhere."
She sighs in fond nostalgia as she stands just a foot away once more.
"You and I are far more alike now than you realise, Alistair."
She laughs mockingly. The sound is like nails to my eardrums, her grin poisonous.
"Diamor was right. You're just like a hound... You even fight like an animal."
My jaw tenses yet again, teeth gritted as my hand twitches with the violent urge to reach forward and strangle her.
I almost don't believe we were laughing together a few minutes ago.
...Somehow, this feels far more natural.
"I'm not your fucking dog, Serafall. Call me that again, and I might just take you up on your offer for some training."
She laughs again.
I can't help but wonder if she actually enjoys this, or just wants to piss me off as much as possible. Probably both.
"Of course you aren't. Not anymore at least. The hound has grown too big for his muzzle. Any control I had over you is long gone."
Her eyes crinkle, looking at me with that same fucking pride in her gaze as she leans forward, barely an inch separating us as she lifts herself to match my height with a small formation of ice beneath the feet.
"I look forward to seeing what you do with your newfound freedom, Alistair." She murmurs, grinning.
Serafall's words are nothing more than a breathy whisper, her lips mere centimeters away from my own as she taunts me.
...curse this Devil's Lust.
Her power, her violence, her confidence... It's all so disgustingly alluring to me.
I want nothing more than to lean forward and take her lips for myself right here and now, my own reservations be damned. Every cell in my body yearns for her touch, for that familiar embrace from times long passed.
Thankfully though, just as quickly as she arrived, she leaves my personal space, giggling to herself all the while, intimately aware of the effect she has.
Now several feet away, Serafall grins, a single coy wave and some brief parting words sent my way before she turns and leaves once again.
"I'll be seeing you soon, Ali. Ta-ta!"
...Her words echo in the wind like a promise.
Once more I find myself cursing the Devilish body I've been reincarnated into, eyes near enough magnetised to her long, shapely legs as she walks away.
Part of me is left almost wishing she had stayed, her scent still lingering in the air as if to tease me even further, my body still tenses and heated despite several long moments passing since she left.
...That fucking woman. One day, I'll get the upper hand on her-
"Oh hey, buddy, is that you!?"
My lamentations over Serafall's athletic form are abruptly ended when a member of the Satanihilus calls out from my side, the man walking forward and resting and arm around my shoulder so casually.
Vaguely recognising the voice, I fight off the urge to throw my unexpected companion and turn to look at them.
His face is covered by a helmet. I really don't get much in the form of identification, but I quickly notice a strange scent in the air.
It's still not quite enough to decipher who this is, though.
"...I'm sorry, who are you?"
He splutters for a moment, incensed, before he realises the visor is down over his helmet and that I can't see a single hair on his head. Backing away, the overly friendly man lifts said helmet after a brief moment spent fumbling around with it.
What I see leaves me floored.
"Cassius!?"
"Hehe, yup! In the flesh buddy!"
Indeed, the Half-Devil in front of me, grinning ear to ear, is somehow the same twig of a man I'd met in Galedwin Memorial.
Where his skin was once pale and his muscles weak, he now stands at almost the same height as me, filling out the armour quite well. Given it's been only a week and some change since we first met, I can't help but be viscerally shocked.
"Surprised, huh? Turns out, all I really needed was some strong healing and a good meal! Speaking of a good meal, a few of my friends are cooking up some food right now. I think you should join us, Demi-fiend."
Companion Quest: Green With Envy has been initiated! Rewards temporarily hidden!