Fairy Tail: The Dark Swordsman

27 - Curses, The Power of Etherious

[X779, Mount Hakobe]

— Mavis Vermillion —

This was bad.

Like really really bad.

Dannis had fully passed out, and despite Crust's abilities, it was painfully obvious that the rune knight was severely outmatched by Grilthos.

The strength of a werewolf, while decently powerful, paled in comparison to a demon from the book of Zeref. Even now she watched as Crust was beaten around like a ragdoll by the Wizard Killer.

It was only his enhanced regeneration from the werewolf physiology that allowed him to stay alive, but that won't be the case for long.

Dannis was unconscious and there was no telling when he would wake up.

She contemplated what to do. Perhaps she could give Dannis Fairy Glitter? That would certainly give him the power to take down Grilthos.

But Grilthos' magic nullifying power is the thing that makes him dangerous. Who's to say that he couldn't just tear apart Fairy Glitter like he did Dannis' spells.

Not to mention that the Fairy Tail mage is currently running on empty. Neither she nor Dannis expected the demon to be able to forcibly take away a wizard's reserves, and it cost them dearly.

Had Crust finished his job quicker, then perhaps the both of them together might've been able to push Grilthos back, but Dannis was defeated before they could.

A sudden burst of power caught her attention as she looked back, seeing Dannis awake, his body glowing in eerie purple energy. Black tattoos appeared over the right side of his face, covering all the way down to his right arm.

'A devil slayer?' she thought in surprise.

The transformation had caught Grilthos' attention, as he gazed at the prone figure of Dannis, one hand holding the neck of Crust's werewolf form.

______________________________________

— Dannis Martell —

I found myself in a world of pure darkness.

There was something gnawing at me, I didn't know what it was, but it felt...off for some reason.

It felt awful, like something foul had found itself surrounding me without my notice. They screamed of suffering, of torture beyond anything I've ever felt.

Something flashed in the darkness, and I could see a memory playing out in clear definition, as if I was reliving it.

Waking up disoriented, surrounded by thugs, a quick slash and I could barely hear my own screams from the pain of an eye getting gouged out.

A deep guttural anger raised from my core.

A couple of graves, sitting peacefully beneath a willow tree. A white rose resting atop the stone.

That rage suddenly shifted into grief, sudden and quick, like a switch being flipped.

"LEAVE! YOU FUCKING TRAITOR! I DON'T NEED YOU! WE DON'T NEED YOU!"

Grief turned into regret and disappointment, once more, it was as if my emotions were as fragile as a broken man. So easily shifting.

'What the hell is this? What is happening?'

I had always held good control of my emotions. But these swells of negativity pushed forth within me like a flame waiting to be rekindled.

*VLOOM*