Klaus snapped his fingers.
Mirror Image — Activated.
Light washed over him in a clean, blinding sweep. His frame softened, robes of white and gold forming mid-motion, hair catching the glow as his body reshaped into Priestess Illumi once more. The transformation didn't slow him in the slightest. If anything, he moved faster, skirts fluttering absurdly as he slid past a claw that pulverized the ground behind him.
His grin returned—wide, reckless, unmistakably Klaus.
"Time to be a Gunner Priestess."
He cracked the shotgun open while sprinting. An empty shell flicked out and clattered uselessly across the crater floor. Without looking, he reached into his Mindforger, fingers closing around a fresh round. The demon's shadow loomed over him, wings flexing, mana distorting the air.
Klaus held the shell tight, breath steady despite the chaos, and began chanting as he ran in a wide arc around the monster, feet never stopping, body twisting and ducking with practiced precision.
"O Tharion, Warden of the Endless Sky,
Bearer of Law, Keeper of Light,
Let Heaven judge through mortal hands,
Let false shadows burn away,
And grant this vessel your righteous thunder,
That evil may kneel before the firmament."
The shell pulsed.
Gold light seeped into the casing, divine sigils etching themselves imperfectly along the metal, flickering as if the god himself were squinting at the loophole Klaus was abusing.
Klaus laughed under his breath and slid the shell into the chamber. "I really hope the trap doesn't complain about mixed casting."
He snapped the shotgun shut and Phantom Jumped.
The world lurched.
He appeared directly above the demon's shoulder, point-blank range, robes snapping violently in the updraft. A massive clawed hand was already reaching for him—as if the creature had predicted the jump the moment Klaus thought of it.
Klaus didn't hesitate.
He fired.
The consecrated blast punched straight through the demon's palm. Black blood sprayed in a sizzling arc, hissing as divine energy burned into corrupted flesh. The demon howled, more shocked than pained.
"Yes!" Klaus whooped mid-fall. "That'll do!"
The creature reacted instantly, wings snapping inward as two more arms swept toward him from opposite sides. Klaus Phantom Jumped again, reappearing on the ground directly in front of the monster—
—and froze.
Six beams were already there, overlapping, converging.
Too close.
Too fast.
"Ah—"
Mucus Armor.
The spell barely finished before the beams struck.
Light and force slammed into him head-on, throwing him across the crater floor. Stone shattered. Dust and smoke swallowed everything. When it cleared, Priestess Illumi lay sprawled in a shallow trench, robes torn and singed, hem nearly gone. Bruises bloomed across exposed skin. Thick mucus clung to her body, mixed unpleasantly with blood.
Klaus groaned and pushed himself up on one elbow. "Damn it… mucus armor is almost useless against magic."
The demon leaned closer, its four black eyes narrowing with interest rather than rage.
A voice crawled out of its throat, layered and wet. "How… fascinating. You survived."
Klaus wiped blood from his lip, forced himself upright, and straightened what remained of Illumi's robes with theatrical dignity. "So you can talk. That simplifies things."
He met the demon's gaze, calm settling back into his posture like a familiar coat. "Let's bargain. You leave and live—or stay and die."
He uncorked a red vial and drank it in one smooth motion. Warmth surged through him as bruises faded and torn flesh knit itself back together.
The demon laughed, deep and reverberating. "A human threatening me. Delightful."
Footsteps crunched on stone.
Shane arrived beside Klaus, utterly unconcerned by the towering demon in front of them. He looked Klaus up and down, eyes lingering pointedly on the torn robes and exposed legs.
He whistled softly. "You've chosen a very… scenic form, Klaus."
Klaus didn't even look at him. "Focus."
"I am," Shane replied mildly.
He reached into another storage ring and pulled out a rabbit.
It looked ordinary enough—white fur, red eyes, twitching nose. Shane cradled it in one hand and absently stroked its head. "Hungry, Delle?"
The demon sneered. "Another option, then. You both die. I eat your souls."
Above it, the six orbs shuddered and began merging, swelling into a single massive sphere of condensed mana.
Shane didn't react to the threat. "Delle," he said calmly, "that's your meal. Eat well."
Viral Modification.
The rabbit convulsed.
Its fur flushed crimson, eyes bleaching white. Fangs punched through its gums with a wet crack. Shane released it.
"Oh," Klaus muttered. "You brought that."
Shane glanced at him. "Since I'm helping, I'll cut the gold in half."
"You should ask me first."
Shane's eyes flicked back to the demon. "Can you win?"
Klaus watched the mana sphere grow, jaw tightening. "Maybe. I just need time."
Shane nodded. "Then here's the time."
The rabbit charged.
The demon backhanded it casually, sending the tiny body flying dozens of meters. It struck stone and burst apart in a spray of gore.
The demon laughed. "Is that all? Humans boast loudly, yet die like insects."
Its laughter faltered.
Red blobs began to writhe across the crater floor.
From every splatter of blood, new forms tore themselves free—snarling, fanged, and hungry—swarming toward the demon in a tide of crimson.
Klaus exhaled slowly, shotgun rising again.
"…I really hate how effective you are."
The demon stepped back, wings flexing, its four eyes darting between the rabbits and the two men. "What mockery is this?" it snarled. "Filth given false life?"
The demon swiped.
A single, contemptuous motion of its massive arm sent half a dozen red rabbits flying like wet clay, their bodies bursting against stone and crater walls. It didn't even slow down. Black wings flexed as it laughed, low and thunderous.
"Pathetic," the demon growled. "You throw vermin at a High Demon Magus?"
Another swipe. More rabbits splattered—
—and then twitched.
The minced remains quivered, pulsed, and split. One became two. Two became four. In seconds, the ground crawled again with red bodies.
The demon paused.
Its four eyes narrowed.
It stomped, crushing several at once. They burst, smeared, then crawled back together, reforming with wet, obscene sounds. They didn't hurt it. They didn't slow it. But they never stopped.
Shane stood calmly a short distance away, hands relaxed at his sides. "They're not meant to kill it. Delle's low-level familiar, his job is to distract."
Klaus snorted. "Yet they're quite terrifying."