mountain of terrors(4)

The battlefield was eerily silent, save for the soft crunch of Dakota's boots against the shattered ice. The second Devil—his obsidian armor cracked, his crimson eyes wide with disbelief—stood frozen in place. He had just watched his companion be cut down like an insect.

His confidence wavered. The oppressive, overwhelming presence he once held was now drowned beneath the weight of something far greater—fear.

Dakota wiped a smear of black blood off his blade, his brown eyes locking onto the Devil's. His grip on the sword was loose, almost casual, as if the fight had long since lost its meaning.

Dakota:

"You're shaking."

The Devil flinched at the words.

Dakota's voice wasn't mocking, nor was it angry. It was calm. Indifferent.

And that was worse.

The Devil clenched his fists, forcing his body to still. The fear in his eyes was quickly masked by rage.

Second Devil: (growling)

"You think this is over?"

Dark energy surged around his body, the ground trembling beneath his feet. His crimson aura flared violently, cracks forming beneath him as his demonic power reached its peak. The air itself distorted, the sheer heat from his presence causing the snow around them to melt instantly.

Dakota didn't react.

If anything, he looked… bored.

Dakota:

"Go on, then. Show me."

The Devil lunged forward, faster than before, his claws leaving afterimages in the air. He slashed out with devastating force, his attacks creating massive shockwaves that shattered ice pillars in the distance.

But none of them hit.

Dakota sidestepped the first swipe, leaned back from the second, then tilted his head just enough to let the final claw barely graze past his cheek.

It was effortless.

The Devil's crimson eyes widened in frustration. He sent a barrage of attacks at Dakota—claws, energy blasts, wild strikes fueled by desperation. Each one was dodged with humiliating ease.

Dakota didn't even bother blocking.

At one point, he lazily stepped aside, hands still resting on his sword, watching the Devil swing wildly at the air.

Dakota:

"That all?"

His tone was dismissive.

The Devil roared in fury, his body bursting with raw power. Black tendrils of energy erupted from his back, twisting like living whips as they lashed out toward Dakota.

A deadly attack.

But Dakota simply sighed.

In an instant, he vanished.

A second later—

BAM!

The Devil's body was sent flying, crashing through multiple ice formations before slamming into the side of a frozen mountain. A deep crater formed upon impact, the force of the blow causing an avalanche of snow and debris to rain down around him.

The Devil coughed up black blood, his vision spinning.

Before he could even think, a sharp gust of wind signaled Dakota's approach.

Then—

CRACK!

A devastating kick to his ribs sent him bouncing across the icy battlefield like a ragdoll, each impact breaking more of his obsidian armor.

He barely had time to breathe before Dakota was in front of him again.

Dakota: (grinning slightly)

"Come on. You were talking all that big game earlier."

He swung the blunt side of his sword—

BOOM!

The Devil's body was sent soaring skyward, his shriek of pain echoing through the mountains. Dakota appeared above him in an instant, raising his leg.

Then—

BANG!

A crushing axe kick sent the Devil spiraling downward, slamming into the ice with enough force to form a massive crater. The ground shook violently.

Dust and ice particles filled the air.

For a moment, silence.

Then, a slow, agonizing groan escaped the Devil's lips.

He was barely able to move. His entire body was battered, broken—his once-imposing presence now reduced to a pathetic, trembling mess.

And above him, Dakota stood at the edge of the crater, looking down with the same uninterested expression.

Dakota:

"Oh? Is that it?"

The Devil's crimson eyes flared with hatred.

Second Devil: (snarling)

"STOP MOCKING ME!"

Summoning the last of his strength, he roared, his entire being consumed by a final surge of destructive energy. His aura expanded like a raging inferno, his power reaching its absolute peak.

Second Devil: (screaming)

"I'LL KILL YOU!"

A massive blast of demonic energy erupted from his body, the sheer force of it warping the air itself.

The snow melted instantly. The ice cracked. The very atmosphere trembled under his overwhelming wrath.

It was an attack meant to annihilate everything in its path.

Dakota watched, unmoving.

Then, just as the Devil launched himself forward—

Dakota moved.

One step.

A single, effortless step.

And suddenly—he was gone.

The Devil's eyes widened in confusion.

Where did—?

SLAM!

A fist collided with his gut.

For a brief moment, there was silence.

Then—

A shockwave erupted, distorting the very space around them. The force of the punch caved in the Devil's torso, his entire body folding inward as if he had been struck by a meteor.

He didn't even have time to scream.

His body was sent flying—no, ripped through the air—before slamming into the side of a mountain so hard that the entire peak collapsed.

A deep, deafening rumble echoed throughout the landscape as an avalanche of ice and stone swallowed the Devil whole.

Silence.

Dakota stood in place, lowering his fist. His expression remained neutral, almost unimpressed.

Then—

CRACK.

The rubble shifted.

A battered, barely-conscious form stumbled out from beneath the destruction.

The Devil was barely alive. His once-mighty aura flickered like a dying flame. His body—once an embodiment of power—was now weak, broken, shaking.

His legs buckled. His breathing was ragged.

For the first time in his existence, he felt helpless.

Dakota stepped toward him, his boots crunching against the ice.

The Devil looked up, his crimson eyes filled with rage, shame—fear.

Dakota met his gaze.

And then, he smirked.

Dakota:

"Reality check, huh?"

The Devil's eyes widened.

Dakota: (coldly)

"You were never on my level to begin with."

Before the Devil could even react—

SLASH!

A single, precise strike.

Dakota's sword carved through his neck with the grace of an artist's brushstroke.

For a moment, the Devil stood motionless.

Then, his head slid off his shoulders.

His body collapsed.

Dark, corrupted blood stained the frozen ground as the last remnants of his existence faded into nothingness.

Dakota exhaled softly, flicking the black blood off his blade before sheathing it.

He took one last glance at the lifeless corpse before turning away.

No words.

No one else had arrived.

No interruptions.

Just silence.

And in that silence, Dakota walked away, leaving behind nothing but the remains of a battle long since decided.