𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗜𝗢𝗡𝗘𝗧𝗧𝗘 || douma

Chapter 25

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𝑀𝐴𝑅𝐼𝑂𝑁𝐸𝑇𝑇𝐸
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Ever since you became a demon, you've never actually fought. All you ever did was to stay as Douma's plaything for his pure amusement and pleasure. You didn't know to what extent is your full potential, you've never really been trained to fight.

"For a demon," the man said, still holding his sword, still standing on his own two feet. "You're awfully weak."

You felt a sense of annoyance surge in you, the veins on your temple started to get visible. Your hands started to tingle from not being able to kill the man. You've never felt like this, not even to Douma. The sheer sense of that feeling was almost unimaginable.

"Why are you still... not dead?" you asked, the annoyance turning into a different sense of anger when the side of the man's lips turned up in a smirk.

"Because I'm stronger."

Because he's stronger.

In what universe is he stronger, you wonder. You, who have perpetual existence, youth and beauty. While he, who is mortal, is bound to perish in time. How can he say such a thing, when he is but a mere blink in your otherwise eternal lifetime.

You would have laughed at the mere statement, but then the man ticked you off by continuing.

"And you are weaker."

You did not waste a second as you lunged at him, but he evaded your attack again. You wanted to tear him into pieces, at the same time you wanted to prolong his agony as much as he's prolonging your annoyance.

You wanted him to feel every bit of pain imaginable. In your head, you had murdered him a hundred times over.

"You must be a few years old," he continued. "One? Two? You're awfully young compared to other demons I've killed."

He's boasting now. The other demons he'd killed. It's like saying every demon he had encountered was killed by him.

But the man couldn't help but think that something wasn't right. He knew you're only a few years old as a demon, not fully developed, you don't even have a blood demon art.

But he still couldn't decapitate you. He couldn't even cut a single limb when the man is almost giving it his all to swing his sword. Though that he wouldn't admit.

Each time he thought he had gotten you, he realized he was only slicing air. Maybe it was the reflexes, you might still be sensitive, too instinctive, so you were able to evade his attacks at the last second. Nonetheless, you couldn't kill him and neither can he kill you. Although the man can prolong the fight until sunrise and that's what he's doing.

His crow is on its way to alert nearby slayers, all he needs to do is to drag this fight on until someone shows up. Maybe with two swords your neck can finally be separated from your body.

"If you're a human," he said. "You'd be compared to an infant."

Your blood started to boil in anger, your vision started to redden and your ears started to ring. You're so angry you started to literally see blood.