Hell's best swordsman: an origin Story
(To avoid confusion, Jeffar is a (kind of) mistranslation of Zepar's name which I and Babydragon39, a fellow OG fanfic writer liked a lot so we stuck with it xD)
Hell, the land of the damned, the realm of the demonic creatures who aspire to return the world to its primordial state, Chaos; that was how most people on Midgard viewed Hell. It wasn't weird, hidden behind the prophecies and words of Asgard's envoys was some truth.
The god of chaos Yatan, The first Absolute born from Chaos among the other 2, had created hell as a realm to host demons and demonkins, creatures created to reflect the image of Baal, The original demon. As a being born from Chaos in the pits of darkness, the Abyss, Baal yearned for the past which he could barely remember, the age of Chaos. This desire was imprinted as a natural instinct in the demons who were but Fragments of his reflection created by Yatan.
As such, aside from the nature of its residents, Hell was not much different from Midgard, The social Hierarchy was determined via a simple method, The amount of demonic energy, which represents a demon's or demonkin's potential, that the being had, The ranks of Hell's nobility were determined in a similar manner, a Great demon could be seen as the equivalent of a king while their commanders and assistants represented the ''Nobles'' of that kingdom, that is, one of the 33 hells.
One of the minor families in the 33rd hell ruled by the queen of fire, Belial, was the ''Yakult clan'', a clan that had served Belial faithfully for more than a millennium. However, due to their pathetic lineage as horned demons, they couldn't rise higher than the position of an honorable Warrior in the Great demon's army. The only member of the Yakult clan who broke this unspoken rule was the heir of the 666th generation, Iyarugt. From early infancy, Iyarugt was fascinated by swords and the art of wielding them, having heard that the strongest in the world wielded not only demonic magic but also blades to fight.
''I too, will become strong!''
Were the words that Iyarugt spoke after being pathetically defeated during his combat training for the first time. And so he fought the strong in the hope of transcending them one day, eventually rising to the position of a commander in Belial's army.
However, as he pursued the pinnacle of swordsmanship relentlessly while supporting his Queen, a calamity befell the 33rd hell. A hornless demonkin had arrived in their land and single-handedly trampled over the Queen's army with a single swing, forcing Belial to come out and face him herself... and be defeated by him. The throne of the 33rd hell was usurped on that day, as Iyarugt's body lied on the ground, with a distorted body and face, barely holding on to life, he heard the name of the invader whose body was still hidden by his cloak.
''WHO ARE YOU, YOU WHO DARES CHALLENGE THE QUEEN OF FIRE?!''
''Jeffar , remember it well.''
These were the last words of the mysterious swordsman before his sword split the Royal castle and Belial alike in 2.
Iyarugt's eyes shone brighter than the flames of the Queen, though they were not flames of hatred but flames of admiration, admiration for the man who proved his path was not wrong, that his efforts would be eventually rewarded. Despite the overwhelming pain and the slow healing, Iyarugt's clung to life while holding his sword's hilt tightly. Years passed since that day and Iyarugt's resolve never wavered, for nothing could quell the flames of determination in his heart, the desire to transcend the man called Jeffar. And so he wandered around the 33 Hells honing his sword skills, abandoning his pride and lineage, for the sake of reaching the end of the path he willingly chose.
'A swing that splits the ground in 2...'
The image of the sword that once cut the Queen of fire, Belial, in 2 never left his mind and so he aimed to transcend that swing, to show that it was not the pinnacle of all swings but merely a step towards that direction. And the day he dreamed about for centuries came true at last... In the plains of the 29th hell facing the King of that hell was a demon with one horn, For one of his 2 horns was the price he had paid the first time he faced that King hundreds of years ago.
''I, former heir of the Yakult clan, Hell's best swordsman, Iyarugt, request a duel with the monarch of the 29th hell, Jeffar!''
No emotions could be seen on the face of the once mysterious man, was that how he looked that day too? these were Iyarugt's thoughts right now.
'But I will change that expression of yours!'
By proving that his sword is not inferior to Jeffar's he would break his composure and finally truly clash swords with him as equals.
''Another one... I hope you'll last long enough...''
These were Jeffar's words as he looked at the burning flames in Iyarugt's eyes, he respected his determination more than his common sense, or rather lack thereof, which led him to waste his current life for the sake of a duel. But, what Jeffar was met with was nothing short of a trial.
''This swordsmanship...I have never seen anything like it...''
'His sword would have decapitated me at least 3 times if I wasn't faster than him...'
The swordsmanship of a demon who peeked at the realm of transcendence after centuries of patience and effort couldn't be anything but amazing in Jeffar's eyes. It was the day the first sword saint Jeffar had finally met his one and only rival, The creator of the Sublime swordsmanship, Iyarugt.
The sounds of the clashing blades resonated in the 29th hells for 10 weeks, yes, The 2 men had been exchanging blows for 10 weeks without a moment of rest, Though they should have collapsed long ago, their racing hearts and grinning faces couldn't let that happen.
'He hasn't used any demonic power since the beginning of the fight, is he underestimating me?'
Although demonkin were inferior to demons in terms of demonic power, they still possessed an amount that's significant enough to amplify their power. However, Jeffar still hadn't used his demonic power, and as a sign of respect, Iyarugt held himself from doing so as well.
''Let's end this, Jeffar!''
Iyarugt's sword pushed Jeffar , who had yet to collapse, away. The bright red sword made of Bloodstone shone as Iyarugt's demonic energy flew into it.
''Show me all that you got!''
He shouted as he prepared the Pinnacle of all swings that he could perform so far, the one he had spent centuries perfecting.
''Hell moon cut!''
An attack that cut the moon itself, that was Iyarugt's ultimate technique. Though Jeffar hurriedly attempted to block the attack with his blade, he failed. Hell moon cut reached his right shoulder and cut through it, Jeffar's right arm fell to the ground and his blood spurted everywhere.
''You...Don't tell me...You don't have demonic power at all...?''
Iyarugt couldn't help but be taken aback by Jeffar's reactions, But no words could be heard since it was too late. Jeffar's mind was only dominated by his survival instinct and a promise...yes...a promise, the one he made with Eve, one that he could never break.
''Live ...Jeffar...Live for me...''
Her dying wish was the most treasured memory he had of her. Zepar rushed towards Iyarugt while wielding his sword in his left hand, Though Iyarugt attempted to block it, he was met with a surprise, Warm white light enveloped Zepar's sword as it penetrated Iyarugt's and pierced his chest.
''You...damn...cheater...''
The remnants of Eve's power rushed into Iyarugt's body as they destroyed his body and sealed his soul in the closest object to him, his sword. Though to an outsider it could be seen as a dirty trick, it was the greatest respect that Jeffar could show to anyone, that they were worthy of letting the last fragment of his lover, which remained inside him, the one that replaced the wickedness and chaos in his heart by warm light full of love, go away, for eternity.
And so spread the tale of the legendary duel between the 2 swordsmen. Legend has it that a part of the truth could only be heard by the echoing soul of a horned demon from within a bloody red sword, crying for a rematch, for a duel of honor.