The Virtues' Magecraft

Page 57: He Who Fights Monsters

"He who fights monsters should see to it that he himself does not become a monster."

Every sound of the outside world was blocked out by that voice.

His head was drooping over as he regained his sight. He drew in a breath as he struggled to raise his heavy head. His brain felt as if it were turned to mush, his skull swaying with the murky fluid that kept him down.

But just as he brought up his head and faced the ongoing battle before him... The distorted voice returned.

Cackling, it said: "It's one of my personal beliefs that... the same goes for demons."

Alexander found himself already standing on his feet. Facing forward, facing the others who fought with their all.

He took a staggered step forward. But even as he moved, his mind began slipping once again. Even as he lumbered towards the battle, even as the Virtues fought with their fading hope...

Alexander was losing himself.

Expectedly so, Mammon was far stronger than all of the other demons they had faced before. With only the four Virtues fighting... their loss would be inevitable.

But as for Alexander... His senses were heightened, even as he couldn't process a single thought. His head was murky and dense. And yet, he was fine.

His arms and their singeing pain were fine. The injuries he sustained had slipped away, his fractures healed.

And the sword he held... was surrounded by a pitch-black darkness. Just a minute ago, it was shattered, but now, it was put together. What used to be Excalibur was now a blackened blade, being enveloped with a strange darkness. The same darkness he found inside of him.

His confusion began to slip away, just as everything else did. All sounds and feelings, all thoughts and pain... It all became nonexistent to him. The only thing he could see was Mammon. The only thing he could feel was himself.

And the only thing he had to do was fight.

Anger welled inside of him. One of his teeth twisted and shifted, growing into a fang that brushed against his lower lip.

And with another staggered step, his feet pushed into the ground and crushed the stone.

It was at the same time that Mammon slammed his foot into the ground. It quickly cracked into split stones and the Virtues each rushed back. What spurred the demon's reaction... was the chilling magic coming from the meters behind him. From the area he left that bleeding boy.

He suddenly froze himself, slowly turning his head to face Alexander. He couldn't deny the feeling of fear.

"Hey..." he muttered. He raised a single finger at Alexander. "What... do you think you're doing?"

A deep growl began to emanate from the pits of Alexander's energy. It covered him like a veil. One unlike he had felt before. It wasn't warm. It was cold, a numbing and wintry energy that chilled his bones and steeled his nerves.

It was black. Dark and empty, glowing in the absence of light.

Lumiel raised her head and spun to the side. Beads of sweat dripped down her forehead from just mere minutes of the devastating battle.

'Is that... Alexander?' she asked herself.

Just as the Virtues asked themselves the same question, Leonard gulped down his dry saliva and shook his head. His sensory of magic energy was the most advanced of the Virtues. So he knew better than anyone.

Whatever that was... Whatever Alexander had become... It wasn't him anymore. It could hardly even be considered 'human'.

But before anyone could speak, move, or even react...