702. Realm of Darkness

702. Realm of Darkness

Two voices tugged on each half of Deiman.

The left side of his tiny wings and mask were dyed black, and the right in white. Microscopic bristles found on each wing shivered as a newfound strength coursed through his veins.

He looked down at his palms, unable to fathom what was happening to him.

All he knew was that he was granted power, but the battle between the two voices was not yet over. Memories of the past riddled his mind like the barbs of a porcupine.

Gustus similarly did not know what happened to Deiman. But he was not going to let this opening slip by. He moved far faster than his body should have allowed. A devastating punch connected with Deiman’s chest, throwing him backwards like a bullet.

“Half fox, and half avian! An abomination like you is a stain to humankind!” Gustus further pursued Deiman, refusing to give him an inch of breathing space. “Consider yourself lucky that they want you alive! Now clench those fangs, animal!”

A barrage of consecutive strikes pushed Deiman back as he struggled to make sense of his powers. Each strike from Gustus knocked the wind out of him.

“Does this feel familiar to you!? Did you forget your place after Autumn took you under her wing!? Let me disillusion you! Remember what you are!”

Was this what Autumn had to endure for our sake? She… knew that she couldn’t fight him. I don’t understand.

“Does it matter who suffered in your stead, when you have suffered more than them?”

The voice was accompanied by a vision of bloodied chains, syringes with needles thicker than a finger, and mana channels torn from captured Demons. He remembered a prison enshrouded in grey, and humans who operated on Demi-Humans like him with golden instruments.

Phantom pain associated with each gruesome image afflicted him. Shackles that once bound him, and surgical instruments that flayed flaps of skin from his back enraged him.

Finally, Deiman held a candleflame of hatred in his voice.

“I didn’t choose to be like this!”

A black, fragmented halo appeared on his left wrist like a bracelet. Surrounding his reeled fist was a formless, malevolent aura of pure darkness. He locked his feet in place, resisting the heavy blows of Gustus.

Then, before the man knew it, a devastating blow dented his steel breastplate.

“Who are you to tell me what I am!?”

The sound of glass shattering accompanied it. Black cracks formed in the space where Deiman had struck, pieces of reality fizzling away like the walls of a cracked egg. It took Gustus by surprise.

“Magical augmentation? I’ve never seen such a technique before. A Demi-Human, not even a third of my size, dares to go against a human?”

It barely damaged him despite Deiman’s immense power. He brushed it off, cracking his neck as he acknowledged Deiman, but still did not see him as more than a dog. His inner pettiness leaked through a sinister grin.

“How selfish. Autumn nearly gave her life to protect you. Look at how he throws it away!” Gustus and Deiman traded blows, the impact of each of their fists shaking the very air.

“Do you believe that you only have yourself to trust?”

“I STILL HAVE AUTUMN!” Deiman roared, uppercutting Gustus with his right hand.

However, he was not able to conjure the same power of his left. His knuckled bled against Gustus’ rugged helmet.

“You’re a fool. But that is the norm with your kind.”

His arm was caught, and Gustus unleashed a flurry of strikes, beating Deiman down like a living punching bag.

“Autumn had no intention of helping you out of the goodness of her heart! There is no such thing in Grandis! Think for a moment! Remember why she took you by her side! Then you’ll realize that the reason why she chose to partner with you was not out of kindness!”

Deiman remembered what Autumn said.

… She stayed by my side because she also wanted to see Frost.

“Why did you believe that Autumn was by your side?”

The dark wing on his back outgrew the wing of light. Cracks formed along his body. The dark mask threatened to swallow the white as darkness invaded the corners of his eyes. The world twirled as Gustus flipped Deiman over his head with astounding ease, smashing him down into the ground like a sack of bones.

Immense pain coursed through him as he bounced off the ground, only to be caught again by his hair.

“But I will show you the true side of humanity! The side that your kind murdered and robbed! These same hands were taken by the Solemn Paw!”

He was thrown against the cave wall, leaving behind a faint imprint of his body. He collapsed to his knees, his vision waning as the voice called out to him once again.

“Humans are all the same. Do you remember Thelma?”

“Thelma… She was… my teacher. A human that rescued me from… the Frozen Springs…”

Deiman recalled that person. She was a figure that harbored both darkness and light. An extraordinary magician that taught him the ropes of magic, only to one day abandon him. Probing for the reason why caused the darkness to continue devouring his vision.

Reality existed as a pinhole in the dark.

“A lonely fox used by humans since its birth. What is it that you feel towards humanity?”

“… everything that belonged to me was robbed by humans. I remember being normal. The etches in my back… were never meant to be. They infected me. They tried to recreate me. As you are… Was it a mistake to trust Autumn? Was she never genuine with me?”

“What did she teach you?”

“Nous. Dualism. The shape of a rose. Light and darkness… right and wrongs. Good and evil. But I’ve forgotten them. I’ve tried to understand them. But how can I, when doing good things only leads to tragedy?”

More of his form corroded. Gustus attempted to get close, ready for another round of a one-sided beatdown. However, the moment he stepped within two meters of Deiman, a black, dual-bladed staff appeared in his hands.

It twirled into a perfect, dark circle. A halo of darkness formed as a result. His dark wing injected a dark energy through his mana channels, directing them to his left hand.

“I’m still lost. What is the point of asking questions when wrong or right doesn’t matter. What matters is who is left.”

A lance of pure darkness penetrated through Gustus’ armor.

“What is this magic!?”

Trails of dark geometric symbols similar to the etches in his back followed the lance, leaving behind residual cracks in reality that were later absorbed into his body. It replenished his mana.

His legs creaked forward as Gustus coughed out blood, suddenly recognizing the danger Deiman posed.

And for this reason, he finally reached for his adamantium-powdered blade from his back. Deiman had transformed his staff into a mobile magical circle. The dark halo convinced the man that he was no mere Demi-Human.

He was a Demon.

“Then, Deiman, will you embrace your shadow and break free from the shell of moral quandaries?”

Deiman could feel it. His sense of reality and self was on the brink of shattering. Immeasurable hatred coursed through his veins. His questioning on what was right and wrong was all for naught.

With this epiphany ready at the forefront of his mind, he prepared to break free from his shell and embrace the idea that there was no point in reasoning with morality any further.

“What are you?”

His dark wing on the brink of bearing beautiful feathers. The agony of thinking. The misery of the past. It was all promised to be elevated with just one proclamation.

“I am…!”

“Do you remember what they did for you?”

“…!?”

Deiman’s voice was caught in his throat. He braced himself for a barrage of unsavoury memories he would have rather kept buried in the past. But instead, as he conjured multiple lances of darkness against an approaching Gustus, he saw something else.

Something warmer.

“… Thelma… was the one who saved me in the beginning.” Deiman whispered.

Suddenly, he felt a hand clasp onto his ankles.

“I never… thought of you… as a throw away…” Autumn quivered as she held onto him.

She didn’t try to beg for her life or try to lock Deiman in place for Gustus.

She held onto him protectively.

Small pebbles floated before Deiman’s eyes.

It was all Autumn could muster.

Deiman remembered.

Autumn helped him when they first met. There was no reason to, and yet she drove the bandits away for his sake. Frost did the same thing as well…

“Rather than being caught up in the past, wouldn’t it be better to strive for something you want?”

“Tell me, Deiman, what matters to you the most right now?”

This voice did not tell him what was right or wrong. It did not ask him to condemn anyone or showed him pieces of his past. Rather, it pointed to moments that were recent.

Moments that mattered the most.

“… I want to understand why this duality exists in all of us.” Deiman whispered.

“… I… just always knew… that things would end up this way… if I got myself involved with a Demi-Human… That’s why… I’m sorry… if you thought that I was just using you… I wanted to see Frost…”

“It seems that I didn’t punish you enough Autumn! Humans that mingle with Demi-Humans have endured worse than what you received! If you’re lucky, then maybe you’ll find a good master once the Red Rose brand you as one of their goods!”

“Autumn is a victim of the dualities that exist in Grandis. But you know that she unconditionally saved you when you first met. Thelma did the same. She did not know you had the mana channels.”

“Is your wish to do the same thing?”

It tried to reinforce a part of Deiman that already existed. A single ember of a dying light caught in the monsoon of his own shadows.

Gustus cleaved through the lances, each slash carving the earth. One slash was all he needed to put Deiman down for good, and with Autumn so close to him, they’d both be killed in the process.

He fired multiple lances, leaving his staff to float in place as he reached down to carry a whimpering Autumn. Deiman did not know how to fight, let alone know how to use his other powers – if he had any at all.

But that was perhaps why the ticking voice tried to lure him onto her side.

“Autumn has always looked at you strangely. Can you truly trust her?”

“I will be your only guide to the truth.”

“Everything can be how you wish.”

Unfortunately for Elysia, Autumn confessed as Deiman considered it.

“… I just… wanted to be allowed to touch your tail. My leers… must have scared you. You’re a Shell… so you’re not going to know what I was thinking…”

“Even the voice was trying to bring me astray. Why? Why would it try to lead me to hate you…?”

Deiman suddenly realized Elysia’s intentions.

She wanted him to embrace his repressed hatred. That way, he would be able to weather the storm outside of his Shell no matter the cost. It would have ruined Deiman as he knew it. All of the experiences, connections, and people he met would disappear the moment he embraced those desires.

He was a vessel…

… a Shell waiting for an Ego to occupy it.