CHAPTER 5- Demonic Power

The air was thick with the stench of sulfur and decay, the once-cozy cottage now a crumbling ruin under the oppressive weight of Arthur Christian's dark magic.

The walls groaned as if in agony, the wooden beams splintering under the force of the mana swirling around him. Deep purple tendrils of energy coiled around his body like serpents, their malevolent glow casting eerie shadows across the room.

His once-bright red eyes had turned a haunting shade of violet, the whites now black as the void. His skin was pale, almost translucent, veins of dark magic pulsing beneath the surface. He looked less like a man and more like a demon—a harbinger of destruction.

"Even when you know you have less than 1% to win and survive, you still won't let go of this arrogance, huh?" Arthur sneered, his voice dripping with malice.

His words were laced with a mocking tone, designed to provoke, to break me. But I, Selantia Nyxveil, battered and bleeding, stood tall, my grip tightening on the hilt of my divine sword, *Slayer*.

My eyes widened as I took in the spectacle of his mana. Deep purple, almost black, it radiated an otherworldly beauty, mesmerizing and terrifying in equal measure.

For a moment, I was captivated, my mind drifting to the stories of old—of demons and their seductive power. But then, something clicked. My blood ran cold, and a smirk tugged at my lips despite the fear clawing at my chest.

"You've got to be kidding me," I muttered, my voice a mix of disbelief and defiance.

"You sold your soul to the demons, Arthur. After everything you stood for, everything you fought against… you've become the very thing you despised."

Arthur's lips curled into a sinister grin, his violet eyes gleaming with a cruel light. "How does it feel, Selantia? To see this mana once again? To know that you're powerless against it?" His voice was a low growl, each word dripping with venom.

The pressure of his mana was suffocating, pressing down on me like a mountain. My skin felt like it was being torn apart, my bones creaking under the strain.

Blood trickled from the corner of my mouth, but I refused to falter. I flipped backward as Arthur lunged at me, his movements unnaturally fast, his body a blur of dark energy.

"YOU SOLD YOUR SOUL TO THE DEMONS FOR POWER, ARTHUR CHRISTIAN!" I roared, my voice echoing through the ruins of the cottage.

Anger surged through me, hot and unrelenting, but I channeled it into my movements, my sword flashing as I parried his attacks.

Arthur's laughter was a chilling sound, echoing in the hollow remains of the cottage. "All your life, you were desperate to rid the world of black magicians. And now, look at you, Selantia. You're nothing but a relic, a fading shadow of what you once were."

His words stung, but I pushed the pain aside. I couldn't afford to let him get under my skin.

Not now. Not when the stakes were so high. I swung my sword with all my might, the blade cutting through the air with a sharp whistle.

But no matter how many times I struck, the shadowy viper he had summoned regenerated, its form growing larger and more menacing with each passing moment.

The viper's eyes glowed a deep, bloodthirsty red, its massive body coiling around the room. It was too much for me to handle in this state. My body was failing me, the poison coursing through my veins sapping my strength. I could feel it spreading, a cold numbness creeping into my limbs.

But I couldn't give up. Not yet.

"You will die today, Selantia," Arthur said, his voice calm, almost gentle, as if he were delivering a eulogy.

"Your death will be the stepping stone for the beginning of the demon's reign over mankind."

I coughed, blood splattering the ground. My vision blurred, but I forced myself to focus. I couldn't let him win. Not like this. I tightened my grip on *Slayer*, the blade trembling in my hands.

I could feel the aura within me, the purest form of energy I had mastered over the years. But using it now would mean certain death. The poison would spread faster, and the pain would be unbearable.

But what choice did I have?

"Even after knowing what happened 30 years ago because of the black magicians—" My voice was cold, colder than ice, and Arthur's smile faltered for a moment. His eyes darkened, and for a split second, I thought I saw a flicker of the man he used to be.

"Am I supposed to care?" He tilted his head, his voice dripping with disdain. My eyes widened in shock. "ARTHUR, SNAP OUT OF IT! ARE YOU SERIOUSLY GOING TO LET THE DEMONS MESS WITH YOUR MIND?"

"Mess with my mind?"

He scoffed, running his hand along the tail of the viper as if it were a pet.

"It's the humans who are at fault, Selantia. It was *them* whose greed caused all the suffering we had to face. The demons… they offer power. Real power. The kind that can reshape this broken world." He paused before uttering some of the most venomous words.

"Tell me, Selantia, you dedicated every last bit of you for this Empire, for it's people, repaying for a sin that you didn't even commit." He looked deep into my eyes as he continued, "What did you get in return? Hatred of the man you ever loved? Betrayal of your own sister? "

His words were like daggers, each one piercing deeper than the last. I clenched my jaw, refusing to let him see how much they affected me. But deep down, I knew he was right.

I had always fought for a world that had never shown me kindness. I had sacrificed everything—my youth, my friends, my love—only to be met with betrayal and hatred.

But I couldn't let him win. Not like this.

I closed my eyes, focusing on the aura within me. It was faint, flickering like a dying flame, but it was there. I could feel it, warm and familiar, like an old friend. I poured every ounce of strength I had left into it, ignoring the searing pain that shot through my body. My skin felt like it was on fire, my veins burning with the intensity of the energy coursing through them.

Help me, Slayer. One last time, help me. I can't let this man survive. 

My dear sword, My best friend, 

Stay with me one last time.

And suddenly, something changed.

*Slayer* began to glow, a soft, golden light emanating from the blade. My eyes widen looking at it. As if stardust was mixed with the most brilliant golden color, a strange aura started slipping out of it.

But it never happened before. I just once read during religion class that the Sword of Ezekiel emitted a golden divine aura on it's own every time Ezekiel called upon it.

Arthur's eyes widened in shock. "Impossible! THIS IS IMPOSSIBLE! HOW CAN YOU ACTIVATE THE POWER OF THE SWORD OF EZEKIEL?!"

SWORD OF EZEKIEL!! SLAYER IS SWORD OF EZEKIEL? But how? 

It was warm, comforting, like the embrace of a loved one. I could feel the power surging through me, different from anything I had ever experienced before. It was pure, divine, and it filled me with a sense of peace I hadn't felt in years.

"NOOOOO!!!!! IF SWORD OF EZEKIEL GETS ACTIVATED AGAIN, MY GREAT KING BELIAR WOULD NEVER SUCCEED IN HIS ULTIMATE MISSION!!!!!"

I didn't have the strength to respond. My body was failing me, but I held on, channeling every last bit of energy into the blade. The viper lunged at me, its massive jaws wide open, but I swung *Slayer* with all my might. The blade cut through the shadowy creature like butter, its form disintegrating into ash.

Arthur screamed, his body convulsing as the dark magic within him began to unravel. "NO! I CAN'T DIE LIKE THIS! MY POWER CAN'T BECOME USELESS LIKE THIS!"

I watched as his body was consumed by the golden light, his form crumbling into nothingness. The cottage fell silent, the only sound the faint crackling of the flames that had begun to spread through the ruins.

I collapsed to my knees, my body trembling with exhaustion. The pain was unbearable, but I forced myself to stay conscious.

I had to leave a message, something to warn the others. I dragged myself to the table, my blood staining the wooden floor as I went. With trembling hands, I grabbed a piece of paper and a pen, scribbling down everything I could.

*The Founding Myth is real. The Sword of Ezekiel is real. Beware the demons. Beware, Sefra. and ask that fucking grand duke how he got his hands on Slayer.*

My vision blurred, and I could feel the darkness closing in. But I wasn't afraid. I had done what I needed to do. I had fought until the very end.

I leaned back in the chair, my body too weak to move. The sun was rising, its warm light streaming through the broken windows. I closed my eyes, a small smile tugging at my lips.

*Till the end, Selantia Amaris Nyxveil, I lived like a warrior. And now, I die like one.*

As the darkness claimed me, my final thoughts were of him. The man I had loved for so long, the man who had never known the truth. I wished I had told him, just once, how much he meant to me. But it was too late now.

*I wish… after death… I will be in a safer, happier place.*

And with that, I let go, embracing the peace that had always eluded me in life.