Satan vs Haruki

"How about we test it out here, then?"

"What? Are you serious?"

He laughs. "Your mana is flaring again. Are you that excited?"

Ever since I became an Acceelos, I had this gnawing feeling... "Are you sure you want to do this?" I ask him.

"Are you getting cold feet now, Haruki?"

"Cold feet? Are you joking?"

... of wanting to fight someone powerful. "I'm hyped."

Satan walks a long distance from me. "Well then, I think it's only appropriate that I take a proper form when I face you, don't you think?"

"A proper form?"

Satan's mana leaks from his body like smoke. Red streaks? Red streaks of smoke rise from his pale, raisin skin.

"This pruned form is what the picture books in Leagard paint me as. It was also easier to move around in Leagard in this form. But that is far from what my true form is."

His... true form...

His body suddenly exudes smoke in excess. The smoke swirls around his body in a vicious storm—masking his body and presence. After a few seconds, a hole in the smoke storm hisses, releasing a streak of smoke. Another hole opens. And another. And another. More holes open in the orb of smoke surrounding him, releasing hissing streaks of smoke.

This is... After another few seconds pass, I can feel an immense presence inside the thin cloud of smoke remaining. The air around me becomes hotter. What is this? Sweat rolls down the side of my cheek. This feeling... My chest tightens. This thrill... It becomes hard to breathe. It can only be one thing... Whatever he wants to show me is going to be his true form. And in this form, I will see a powerful being. Someone nearly as powerful as Grandpa. And the thought of fighting something that powerful is... "Thrilling!" I yell. My mana bursts from my body, cracking the earth below. I leap forward before the smoke cloud disperses and reveals Satan's true form. I kick the top of the cloud where his head should be but my kick cuts through the air, slicing the cloud like butter. Nothing? I punch where his chest should be, thinking he may have shrunk like me but my fist impales the cloud of smoke. Nothing? After a few seconds pass, the smoke disperses. Nothing. There's nothing here. Where did he go?

"Are you looking for me?"

I spin around. Behind me, sitting nonchalantly on a chair, sipping tea is... A man? A man in his mid-thirties, dressed in a red silk suit. No, he's not a man. The man's pupils are vertical like a cat's. His irises are blood red like a demon's. But what's most striking about him is that ring of fire behind him. A ring of red flames, shaped like a boat's steering wheel, crackling and flaring. "So, this is your true form?"

"Well, not quite. If I transformed now, you may not have lived long enough to see it."

"Are you trying to insult me?"

"Not at all. It's just when I use my full power people tend to die from the lack of oxygen and overabundance of carbon dioxide released from these flames," he says, pointing at the ring of fire behind him.

"Is that ring of fire like a halo?"

"Halos are above angels' heads, you know. Why would this be anything like a halo? Plus, its shape is so different."

Does he feel... insulted? Because I compared it to a halo?

"This ring of fire," he says, after taking a sip of tea, "is so much more powerful than any mere halo."

He's not lying. I can feel an immense amount of mana coming from that ring.

"Well, I think the time for talking is over. Let's battle, shall we?" The cup in his hand disintegrates into ash. The chair follows suit after he stands on his feet. The air becomes more suffocating. I look up at him.

He's three times my current height. Am I the only one who shrinks after transforming?

"Have you ever heard of The Flames of Wrath?"

"The Flames of Wrath?"

"Fire born from the endless cycle of hatred. As long as hate exists in the seven realms, then these flames will never die." The fire ring behind him morphs into a trident, which he grabs in his hand before charging at me.

He thrusts the trident at my chest but I dodge him. This trident... it's burning the air around us. I jump back. If it touches me even once, I might not survive. Satan does not give me breathing room. He leaps toward me like a maniac, thrusting the spear at different parts of my body. "Ice Magic," The warm air rapidly cools. My breaths create clouds of smoke and each step I take freezes the ground below. "Igce Ae." The whole plain below the castle turns into a field of ice in three seconds.

Satan looks at me cautiously. "Ice Magic? Are you trying to counter my flames with ice as weak as this?" He spins the trident in his hands and arms expertly, fanning heat waves to melt the ice. "You have a long way to go before you can—"

I waste no time. I force my body through the heat waves, scorching my body in the process. This would be a suicide move for anyone. But for me, someone proficient in Healing Magic, you've underestimated me, Satan. After scorching and healing my body in a suicide move to inch closer to Satan, I finally reach his body. I shove my palm onto his chest, "Ice Magic: Eoif Znuerenrvs." In no less than a second, Satan's body becomes a statue of ice. I fall to the ground and sigh, "Looks like this... is my win."