The Virtues' Magecraft

Page 10: Excalibur

Belphegor resumed his attack, swinging his axe with all the strength in his body. With his attack inevitably aimed at Alexander's side, he smirked.

Out of instinct, Alexander raised the sword to block the incoming attack. As the demon's axe impacted the holy sword, an earsplitting sound reverberated throughout this world.

Even in this situation, Alexander couldn't keep himself from smiling. "Don't worry!" he shouted.

"I'll... win this!"

Gabriel's vision began to return through his bloodshot eye. He slammed his fist on the ground, thinking, 'How... Why is that Demon-Born able to wield that sword?!'

Anastasia gripped her injured shoulder, as she looked to her side, seeing Gabriel's ill expression. She understood what he was thinking. She spoke up, "The sword has found him to be worthy. You know that, don't you? That's all there is to it."

All the three Virtues could do was gaze at the marveling sight. Like a man possessed, all Alexander did was swing his sword with all the power in his body.

The dazzling sight of Alexander, shining so brightly, fighting with every ounce of strength he possessed.

Alexander gripped the sword with both hands, slashing at the demon.

His eyes were glistening with gleaming vigor as their blades clashed, emanating earsplitting sounds.

It was unthinkable. Belphegor, a demon, one of the deadly sins incarnate, was being pushed back. He was being pushed back by a child who had never wielded a sword. A child who barely knew magic.

It's strange. The instant in which Alexander grasped the sword, the tides of the battle suddenly shifted. The demon was no longer a being of overwhelming power.

Even with Belphegor's vast speed and power, Alexander matched all of his attacks with his own. Alexander's mind went on autopilot: dodge, slash, deflect, thrust, duck. He broke through Belphegor's defense.

This was disgraceful. To be pushed back by a single boy. He snapped, pushing his axe against the sword. "You insolent child!" he growled.

Yet Alexander remained unfazed. He tilted the blade and pushed upward, preventing Belphegor's next attack.

He was wide open. Alexander slashed at the demon's chest, but Belphegor caught the blade.

When holy weapons come into contact with demonic magic or demons themselves...

The demon burns.

Belphegor let out a yell of agony, instantly letting go of the blade. He gripped the wrist of his sizzling hand, his thoughts and senses being drowned out by the singeing pain. He stared at his hand; It was nearly boiling, with steam coming for the warted and wrangled skin on his palm, purple blood seeping through the now-scarred flash 

Alexander shut his left hand, driving his fist into Belphegor's gut.

Alexander didn't know how to fight, with or without weapons. All of his moves were that of a novice. He had no technique nor skill, but he didn't need those, anyway. After all, "technique" is nothing more than a creation to cover up weaknesses.

And here and now... In this battle... The black-haired boy had no weaknesses. Somehow, someway, he could wield Excalibur. It was... weightless in his arms.

Belphegor tossed his axe up into the air, before slamming his fist into Alexander's jaw. 

Alexander's face narrowly budged. He pushed his head back at Belphegor, his eyes flashing with pale light. He threw his arm back, before driving it into Belphegor's already crumpled armor, launching him back.