Chapter XII.I - The First Dance of Seven Swords (Part II)

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They're starting to use more of their full power already...?! Griffith thought as he breaks out into a cold sweat, tch... this is what I get for showing more of my hand too early.

In what appeared to be a second, Sable closes the 10 meter distance between herself and Griffith, with Eirwen following behind.

In a few seconds, Griffith was forced to use more of his power, but just enough to parry Sable's horizontal cut and counter by kicking her towards Eirwen.

Yet, that did not quite stop them. Nay, Eirwen smoothly caught Sable and swiftly resumed the onslaught.

To the spectators, the match was quite a scene. A two versus one fight of epic proportions unlike anything they had seen - each impact of the swords colliding fiercely released bursts of wind that battered the barrier magic like a battering ram hitting a castle's gate.

Although unknown to the people of this world, Griffith's sword skills derive from various techniques from Earth, as he had perfected his skill with the blade as well as other skills. Although his skill palette nowadays has been reduced, he is able to utilize his movements to become frighteningly efficient.

Several minutes pass, yet the match seemed to go on. Griffith was forced to use many of the other swords to somehow break the stalemate, yet Eirwen and Sable manage to continue evenly match his attacks.

Could... they be testing me? Griffith thought to himself, yet... this feels so familiar... fine, I'll just have to spike it up!

Going beyond the limits, he unleashes close to his full power. From such an act, his clothes become enveloped by dark miasma, transforming into night-black armor with a tattered black cape. His pristine, white hair turned a foreboding back, a dark mask made from the same miasma covered his face. His pupils became a hellish red while his sclera turned black.

Griffith swung Excalibur once at Eirwen and Sable, and the blade sent forth a crescent of black energy that generated a feeling of pure dread - as if it was made from the Grim Reaper's scythe.

Using both their swords and forcing their own magic power, Eirwen and Sable barely manage to block it in time, but the impact caused a plume of dust to cloak their presence.

As the dust settles, only a single person stands.

A rather beautiful woman roughly a few inches shorter than Griffith stands. Her hair color consisted of a two-tone type - black and white. The rose hairpin shared the same two colors, similar to the founding father of the Klein family. She also had heterochromatic eyes, one being white and the other being black.

"Ethel Klein," Griffith spoke, his voice deep from using his true power as Demon Lord.

"Artem Lockwood," Ethel spoke, her voice sounding so gentle and smooth - like melted chocolate flowing down from a chocolate fountain.

Only a silent pause followed Ethel's words, as if the two tried to probe the other's true identity.

"... If you do not mind me asking, what is the real reason behind you challenging me?" Griffith asked through telepathic magic.

"Those two women walking by your side made me rather furious for some reason," she responded in the same manner - surprisingly, her tone was one of curiosity.

Griffith then went into the orz position, coughing up blood.

"A-are you okay?!" she says, rushing over to him.

No... this is beginning to take the form of a harem light novel... Griffith thought, why have you done this to me, Akasha?! Wait! Asuka is still a guy, right? Right?! YOU! READER! AM I RIGHT?! PLEASE TELL ME I'M RIGHT!

"It's nothing," he says as he coughed more blood between his words.

"... Would you like to continue the match?" she asks him and smiles, "and this time, lets keep our powers as normal as possible."

Getting up and wiping off the blood, Griffith responds with a yes.

The two then continued, but this time it was Ethel versus Griffith.

Yet again, the result so far was a stalemate, but Griffith felt an even stronger connection to Ethel. Instead of feeling as if he was sparring with an equally matched aquaintance, it felt as if he was sparring with Charlotte, his dearly beloved wife.

"Are you... Charlotte?" he asked through telepathy.

Ethel's movements stopped.

[Author's Note]

Sorry for the long pause! I had a lot of college stuff to deal with quickly!

Next chapter will be from Griffith's perspective.

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