Drifter and Dale spent the night in Catherine’s abandoned home. It felt strange sleeping in the empty house of the recently deceased, but Drifter was willing to take advantage of whatever luxuries he could get. It wasn't as if anyone was going to be using them any time soon.
He spent the next morning snooping around, until he wandered into, what he assumed was, Catherine’s room. It looked rather plain overall, but he did take an interest in her collection of bizarre comic books, featuring burly men battling alongside ghostly apparitions with the most extravagant poses he had ever seen.
“That’s weird.” Drifter thought, flicking through the illustrations. “I remember this… yeah… it’s all coming back to me. Damn, I wonder what other random weeb shit is floating around in that brain of mine.”
He put the book back on its shelf. “Good grief, what a nerd…”
After finishing whatever food they could scavenge together from the kitchen, the boys were ready to leave, but as they passed through the living room, Drifter paused at the cabinet of knickknacks.
He took one last look at the photo of Catherine with her supposed grandparents. Every time he looked at it, he got a nagging feeling. “The more I think about it the more unbelievable it feels that someone would go to the effort of faking a photo like this, just on the off-chance of setting up an ambush for me.”
Carefully removing the photo from its frame, he folded it into his wallet, figuring it may be useful if he ever encountered Catherine again. Dale pulled back the front window curtain and sighed.
“Oh, great… they’re everywhere…”
Drifter took a look for himself. The street was packed with police officers, paramedics, cop cars and ambulances. They already heard them the moment they woke up, but they had no idea there would be this many.
“Shit…“ Drifter moaned. “Guess we’ll just have to muscle our way past them.”
The instant they stepped outside, all eyes were drawn to them. Nobody present expected to find any survivors to the carnage they discovered. A certain ginger haired cop showed special interest in the boys, immediately confronting them.
“What the bloody hell are you two doing here!?” He demanded.
“Who are you?” Drifter bluntly replied.
“What!? We met yesterday, you daft bastard! I’m Officer Richard Watson!”
“Oh… well, see ya.”
As Drifter attempted to leave, Richard put his hand on his shoulder, forcing him to stay. “Hold on! You didn’t answer my question! Did you do all this!?”
“Don’t be stupid.”
“Why are you guys here?” Dale asked.
“Clean up.” Richard lamented. “After seeing the state of the neighbourhood, we were ordered to dispose of everything, before letting the few evacuees return to their homes. We were so traumatised by what we found, no one had the stomach to perform a proper investigation. We just wanted to remove the corpses… but, there’s so many.”
“What’s there to investigate?” Drifter questioned. “You already know what caused this, why are you wasting your time?”
“But, we need to know! Why did all this happen!? An entire squad! An entire town! Murdered! For what!? And how do we stop it!?”
“Give me a call when you find the answer.”
“Hold on a minute. There was an incident at a shopping centre yesterday. You two wouldn’t happen to-”
In the brief moment Officer Richard looked away, Drifter and Dale had already left. “Oh, bollocks, they’re gone…”
“That guy’s persistent.” Dale surmised.
“A persistent pain in the arse.” Drifter added.
They continued down the street, hoping that the corpses of the victims would gradually peter out, but the carcasses were more widespread than they initially thought. From bloodied shop doors to a car, crashed through a building, disjointed body parts lay everywhere. Dale had to pause for a moment, leaning on the wall.
“You dying again?” Drifter asked.
“What…? Worried…?”
“You look pale.”
“I’m fine… probably something I ate…”
They stopped momentarily, as the stench of death slowly crept into Drifter’s nose. He had grown accustomed to fighting off such foul odours, but the sheer scale of the attack only intensified the sickening smell. The sight of the miscellaneous bodies littering the street was off-putting even by his standards.
“You don’t have to keep doing this.” Drifter mentioned.
“What…?”
“Look, you’ve proven your point. You're perfectly capable of defending people from demons by yourself. As long as you’re not a fucking retard about it, you’ll be fine. This town is already gone, so go be a hero somewhere else. I’ve got my own shit to do.”
“No way!” Dale refuted. “I need to know! Who was that Locke guy!? Who’s Catherine!? What were they talking about!? What are they planning!? A real hero wouldn’t just ignore them! They’d find the truth, so a tragedy like this never happens again!”
Drifter was impressed by the kid’s resolve. “Then quit whining about your tummy ache and let’s get going!”
Unfortunately, as they continued down the road, the sickening feeling only worsened upon coming across a ghastly scene. Short, boney, feral, gremlin-like demons were feasting on a defiled corpse, in the middle of the road, like vultures. It was hard to tell what parts they were picking at for sustenance, nor did Drifter care to find out.
He drew his sword and with one mighty, horizontal slash, sliced the air, sending a razor sharp wave towards the monsters, slicing them in half from the waist. Car roofs slid off and street lights crashed to the ground as a result of his massive swing.
“Uh… you missed one.” Dale pointed to the remaining gremlin, who meekly rose from behind his comrade’s torsos, attempting to flee.
“Oh, Jesus…” Drifter groaned. “Dale, you go after it.”
“What? Why?”
“You’re the hero.”
“Fine…” Dale drew his arm blade and dashed ahead, quickly overtaking the fleeing demon and blocking it from running any further.
“Hold it, you little shit!”
The gremlin got on all fours, growling and snarling at Dale to intimidate him.
“I… have no idea how to interpret any of what I’m seeing right now.”
“That’s a lesser demon.” Drifter explained. “They’re basically like animals, acting on pure instinct. Don’t bother trying to reason with these ones, you won’t get anywhere. Just kill it.”
“Kill it? Is that really necessary-”
The demon swiped its fist across Dale’s face, with shards of glass from the broken street lights hidden between its fingers, slashing Dale’s cheek as he leaned out of the way, leaving three distinct cuts, bleeding on his face.
“H-he did that on instinct!?”
As the demon came around for a second swipe, it was interrupted by a blast that scorched its back. Drifter had fired a shot from his hand, burning off the gremlin’s skin and leaving its muscle exposed. The pain was so agonising, it left the monster paralysed.
Without giving the gremlin a chance to recover, Dale bisected its body with a short uppercut. Just as he was about to declare victory, the monster’s body split in two, spraying blood all over the back of his priceless suit.
“Oh, God!” He cried. “I got gremlin juices everywhere!”
“Hey, stupid!” Drifter called. “Remember the whole 'not being a fucking retard’ thing I mentioned earlier?”
“How was I supposed to know he was hiding glass!?” He sulked, trying to rub the blood off his face.
“Whatever, if these monsters are in the human world then they must have a master who brought them here.”
“Should we go look for him?”
“Sure. I could use a good punching bag right about now.”
The two eventually stumbled upon a church. Not the religious type, Drifter would ordinarily pay it no mind, but this particular building was surrounded by a strange aura. A white barrier of spirits, stretching and contorting, wailing as they reached their ghostly palms out to any living being that drew close to them.
They were like moving textures, slithering across an invisible wall. A bird that had foolishly flown too close was snagged out of the air by the phantasms and swallowed into a space beyond the realm of the living.
“What the fuck is this?” Drifter was unfamiliar with this strange phenomenon.
“I’ve seen this.” Dale explained. “This wailing wall appeared in the restaurant when I was attacked by those oily dudes. It didn’t disappear until I killed the demon that summoned it first.”
"What is this a fucking video game? Is there a blue orb hidden in here?”
“What’s a blue orb?”
“They… forget it… I don’t see a demon around, so whoever’s maintaining this barrier is probably trying to keep us out.”
“So, how do we get through?”
“Brute force.”
“What!? No! God knows what’ll happen if you let those things touch you!”
“Well, if I die I’ll be sure to ask him for you.”
Drifter reached his hand out to the wailing spirits. As he inched closer, the hands of the spirits excitedly clawed out to him, desperate to get a hold of another precious lifeforce, but before they could make contact, Drifter’s aura appeared. The spirits suddenly retracted in fear, wanting nothing to do with the energy Drifter was exerting from his body.
As he pushed closer towards them, the spirits dispersed, creating a hole in the barrier for him to pass through. Dale dived through the gap before the spirits had a chance to grab him, as Drifter simply walked through with no issue.
“Really?” Dale scolded. “Those things scared the shit out of me and you just walk right through them like they’re nothing? That’s bullshit.”
“Of course it is.” Drifter pointed to the sword on his back. “Why do you think those fuckers are always after this thing?”
After passing through the barrier, the boys entered the church, hoping to find the source of the wailing wall. The inside was dimly lit, with only the light from the stained glass windows fending off the darkness. Rows of benches were filled with people, kneeling down and praying silently, all wearing the same black robes.
Drifter didn’t concern himself with the acolytes and quietly headed down the aisle. There was only one person he was interested in. The hooded figure standing behind the podium, raised above the rest of his followers on a stage.
While some of the attendants continued praying, others lifted their heads and solemnly watched as Drifter continued to approach the stage. Some out of fear, while others out of curiosity.
As he reached the end of the aisle, one of the acolytes leapt from their seat, stretching out their arms, blocking Drifter’s path.
“Wh-who are you!? How did you get past the barrier!?” The man questioned, terrified for his life as Drifter stared him down.
“Sit down.” Drifter responded.
“I-if you’re not here to pray, then please leave.”
“You pray to a demon?”
“There’s nothing wrong with that. W-we’re not hurting anyone.”
“Not yet, now move.”
“Lord Anderson warned us about people like you… Heathens who can’t accept that the world is changing…”
“Oh, fucking christ, here we go…”
“Everyone thinks the demons are evil, that they’re here to destroy humanity, but you’re wrong. The demon’s are here to bring salvation to us all, to find those who are worthy. If everyone joined us in solidarity with the demons, we can live in peace together, as they change our world for the better.”
“I don’t care whether you think demons are evil or not. You can have that argument with someone else.”
He called to the hooded figure on the podium. “Hey! Demon priest! How about you face me, instead of hiding behind your brainwashed followers?”
“How did you get past the barrier?” The priest asked.
“Not telling.” Drifter teased.
“I see… then, I have no further reason to converse with you, Heathen. Now, leave this place.”
“Oh for fuck’s sake…” Tired of their deflection, Drifter leapt over the acolyte, landing on the stage behind the priest, back to back. The onlookers, shocked by Drifter’s sudden acrobatics. The priest had the same disgusting smell as the oily creatures from Marble Hill.
“The lesser demons… I can smell their blood. You vanquished them, didn’t you?” The priest asked, neither of them giving the other the courtesy of looking at the other, keeping their backs turned.
“Not a fan of disgusting little monsters snacking on the corpses of dead humans.”
“Those humans were Heathens. Death was their fate.”
“I guess death must be your fate, since they led me right to you.”
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
“What are you saying? Confronting me is a waste of time.”
“I’ve got plenty of time to waste.”
“I can sense great power within you… why would you abuse it for such petty reasons? What do you hope to gain from striking me down? What have I done to deserve such an end?”
“Nothing yet, but if you don’t get your greasy paws off my scabbard, I will be forced to retaliate.”
“That sword doesn’t belong with you, Heathen.”
“Oh…? And you think you deserve it, instead?”
“That sword is only fit for a king!” The priest yanked the sword from Drifter’s sheath, becoming entranced by its legendary power. “With this, I can avenge my brothers that fell at your accursed hands, Heathen!”
“If you can handle its power.”
“Of course I can! My people have existed solely for this moment!”
“Little over-the-top, but okay. Let’s put that conviction to the test.”
With a snap of his finger, Drifter’s sword erupted into white flames, setting the priest ablaze, as he cried in anguish.
“But, why!?” He wailed. “Why won’t it accept me!?”
“The sword doesn’t accept anybody. It’s just a sword. You’re the one who needs to accept its power.”
Like his brothers before him, the priest quickly fell to ashes, leaving only charred robes behind. Drifter took notice of the items hidden behind the priest’s podium. A dish full of money and a syringe with a black substance inside it. The money didn’t surprise him, but the syringe gave off a bad vibe.
He didn’t sense anything demonic from it, but it definitely didn’t belong in the human world. Whatever it was, it seemed valuable. He slipped it into his wallet, purely to mess with whoever at the church may have needed it. While the rest of the acolytes looked on in horror, Drifter continued on like it was business as usual.
“Dale!” He called. “Is the barrier gone?”
Throughout the whole ordeal, Dale had no idea what Drifter was doing and was still a little stunned by his actions, nonetheless, he quickly checked outside. “Uh… yeah, it’s gone.”
“Cool, but we’re not done yet. I can still sense a bunch of them around the back.”
As Drifter dropped from the stage, his path was blocked by more of the acolytes, who weren’t pleased with his behaviour.
“You murdered our priest!” One person yelled.
“This won’t go unpunished!” Another threatened.
Drifter was unfazed by their criticisms, as they blocked off the aisle. Rather than force his way through them, he instead opted to walk around them, ignoring their angry cries.
“Let’s blow this shitshow.” Drifter groaned, as he and Dale began their search for the remaining demons.
They headed around the back of the church, casually strolling through the graveyard, surrounded by trees, as Drifter followed the scent of the demons.
“Did you really have to barge in and make a scene like that?” Dale asked.
“What? And let them drone on about their gay little religion?”
“Yeah… okay…” Dale quickly changed subjects. “To think there are really people out there worshiping demons, although I can’t say I blame them.”
“Elaborate.” Drifter questioned.
“Uh… well, imagine being religious all your life, only for literal demons from Hell to show up and ruin that life. It probably shattered their whole world view, like everything they were taught was wrong. It’d certainly make me question my beliefs, if I had any.”
“Please don’t go all fedora on me.”
“What? Do you believe in a higher power?”
“I don’t care.”
“Do you believe in anything?”
“I believe you're an idiot.”
“Goddammit, walked right into that one…”
Luckily for Dale a sudden soda can to the back of his head snapped him out of his misery.
“What the fuck!?” He cried, as he noticed the group of acolytes closely following them to their destination. “Drifter, you seeing this shit!?”
“Ignore it.”
"But, they're yelling at us."
"And that's all they can do. Ignore it."
They soon arrived at the center of the graveyard with the acolytes continuing to hurl threats and slogans at them.
“Those who oppose demons will only bring about their own demise!”
“Demons are the true Gods!”
“Lord Anderson will not tolerate the existence of wicked souls, who deny the truth!”
Their words meant nothing to Drifter, who hadn’t met a single demon he couldn’t handle, doubtful that he would meet one now. Then, they arrived at the demon’s location.
A large, torn chair, surrounded by more gremlins sat at the edge of the field, behind the graveyard. Upon this ragged throne, sat a tall individual, covered in black armour. It was simple and sleek, built with functionality over style, with the exception of his long black cape and horned, corinthian helmet, hiding his face.
“So, you must be the big boss around here?” Drifter called out to the armoured creature.
The creature folded their arms as they examined their new guests.
“The Legendary Demon Sword? So, the rumours are true. It really was in the ownership of a human these past few years. How amusing.”
“Hey!” Dale yelled. “Are you the one in charge of this cult!?”
“I suppose. These humans and their priest were all defenseless against the mist demon plaguing this town. They seeked help from me and after I obliged, they chose to worship me. But, it seems you two didn't come here to shower me with the same adoration. Thank goodness. Their groveling was annoying me.”
“Did you bring those gremlin things with you?” Drifter asked.
“No, they followed me. Opportunistic little fiends.”
“That sucks. So, do you recognise the name Locke?”
“No. Why?”
“Welp, I’m outta here.”
“Hold on!” The demon sat up in his chair. “You’re not seriously leaving!?”
“I don’t care about your cult. Later.”
“Lessers. Attack them.” On his command, the gremlin demons rallied together to viciously assault Drifter for their leader.
“Ugh, Dale, you handle this.” Drifter planted his sword in the ground and folded his arms, completely uninterested in fighting cannon fodder.
Dale rolled his eyes, before drawing his blade and slicing through the lesser creatures. They weren’t very smart, nor fast and they certainly weren’t dangerous, as Dale made quick work of cutting them to shreds in a blindingly fast display of hacking and slashing. Despite his impressive performance, this only further stained his suit with blood.
“Oh man… it’s even on my shirt now…”
“Now, that was a sight to behold!” The demon exclaimed. “Two humans with demon weapons? What a pleasant surprise.”
The demon directed his attention to Dale, intrigued by his swift techniques. “Boy! I wish to see the extent of your powers for myself! Duel me!”
“Wait, what!?” Dale yelped.
“Prepare yourself and duel me!”
“You heard the crazy man." Drifter coaxed. "Duel him.”
“I thought we were leaving.”
“You said you wanted to find their master and now you have. So come on, Mr. Hero. Defeat the villain.”
“Oh Christ, fine!”
“Excellent.” The demon responded.
He blew his cape open, revealing two scabbards strapped to his back, crossing over each other in the shape of a crucifix. With his left hand, he drew his blade from the horizontal scabbard, just under his neck and with his right, he drew from the second scabbard, just over his shoulder.
Patiently, he unsheathed his two impossibly large zweihanders. Swords, almost as tall as he was, wielding both of them effortlessly, despite their massive weight. How he managed to fit them into such small scabbards was beyond the understanding of anyone present.
He crossed his swords to properly display them to his audience, before scraping them together and assuming his fighting stance. Wielding the left sword in front and the right sword backhanded, from behind.
“Now, come at me.”
Though a little intimidated, Dale wasted no time and immediately charged in. Wanting to test the demon’s reactions, he aimed for his left side, to see if he could even defend himself against his blistering speed. In a split second, Dale rushed to the demon’s left, but was suddenly thrown off balance when the earth spontaneously shattered underneath him.
Without even realising, the demon’s sword had preemptively crashed into the ground in front of him, blocking off Dale’s angle of attack. A moment earlier and Dale would have been crushed. After jumping back, Dale sprinted around the demon to attack from behind, but was quickly met by a backhanded slash from his right sword.
The demon didn’t even bother to try and attack Dale, he simply swiped horizontally to ward off his assault. Once again, if Dale hadn’t reacted and leapt back, he would have been cleaved in two. Dale was at a loss, either the demon’s reactions were impossibly fast, or it was predicting his every move. He circled around to its front again. This time, he charged at the demon’s right side, left open as it was preoccupied with defending its back.
Even if it could predict his moves, there was no way it would be able to react fast enough to swing its sword completely around to stop him, they were too large for suh precise movements. However, Dale’s hypothesis was only partially correct, the demon couldn’t attack him with his sword in time and Dale managed to land a blow on the demon’s armour, but it was all for naught.
Rather than attacking with the blade, the demon simply thrusted the hilt of the sword into Dale’s stomach. All Dale managed to accomplish was scratching the demon’s armour, before being tossed back to Drifter with the force of a megaton punch. Lying defeated on his back, all Dale could muster, after coughing up blood was a pained:
“Your turn, dude…”
Drifter checked Dale’s pulse for a moment. “Well… he’s not dead… Interesting… who are you?”
The demon pointed to the crowd of acolytes behind Drifter.
“There was a human with a strange manner of speaking who referred to me with the word Stolz. I’ll use that as my moniker.”
The acolytes all moved aside, singling out the heavily accented German man of the group.
“Nein! I did nothing!” He pleaded.
“Alright then.” Drifter ignored the strange man and returned to the matter at hand. “Keeping your identity a secret?”
“I have no need for names. I exist simply for the thrill of the fight. Now, will you pose a challenge, or have I sorely overestimated the Demon Sword’s abilities?”
Drifter was ready to bring the heat and casually strolled over to Stolz, who had already assumed his fighting stance, again. The moment Drifter got in range, Stolz wasted no time hammering his sword down, only for Drifter to stop it by merely raising his fist, covered in his white aura.
Convinced the force of his aura alone would snap the blade in two, Drifter was mildly shocked to discover the blade had instead embedded itself into his fist, slowly carving through between his knuckles. Stolz’ second blade came swinging from the other side, with Drifter catching it with his free hand, clamping him in place. Just as before the blade slowly seeped into his palm.
Stuck in a sudden stalemate, Stolz put more force into his blades, to crush Drifter. However, Drifter took advantage of this force to hoist himself up, like a gymnast and deliver a super charged dropkick to the demon’s chest. The force of the blow sent Stolz reeling back, releasing Drifter from his grasp, but it wasn’t nearly enough to deal any significant damage.
Before Drifter had a chance to counterattack, Stolz charged forth, with the hilt of his sword. He thrusted it forward, only for Drifter to catch it in the palm of his hand at the last second. Although he successfully blocked the attack, Drifter still had to brace himself for the extraordinary weight pushing behind it, briefly opening him up, as Stolz’ second blade came swinging overhead.
Drifter’s paralysis was only temporary. He sidestepped the blade as it crashed beside him. He then grabbed the demon’s right arm and yanked it forward, throwing it off balance, as it stumbled forward with an embarrassing wobble. Stolz recovered swiftly, but didn’t face Drifter, instead he got back into his stance, with his back-handed blade awaiting Drifter’s approach.
“You sure do love that stance.” Drifter mocked. “You must be predicting our attacks.” He pointed his finger like a gun, gathering energy into it.
“But, can you predict this?” Drifter fired a shining speck of light like a bullet, closing in on Stolz, but by just slightly raising his sword, the demon was able to block the glimmering gunshot. However, despite its minute size, the speck detonated like a bomb, tearing up the earth beneath the demon, engulfing it in smoke.
"And now to finish it." Drifter charged in, aura ablaze, when suddenly, a black, X-shaped, energy projectile, burst forth from the smoke. It appeared so suddenly, Drifter barely reacted and took the full brunt of the attack head on. The black cross collided with Drifter, leaving an X shaped burn mark on his face, stopping him in his tracks. As Drifter leant backwards, losing his balance. The demon leapt out of the smoke, ready to pounce on his bewildered prey.
With both swords raised above his head, Stolz prepared the killing blow. However, glancing at Drifter’s face, he saw his deep, black eyes already locked onto his target, with a smug grin.
Whether it was on purpose, or his quick wit, Stolz could tell Drifter hadn’t lost yet. Using his power, Drifter clenched his fist, regained his footing and rocketed forward. Stolz crossed his blades to shield himself, as Drifter slammed his fist into them, sending Stolz sliding across the ground with the force of his strike.
“Aren’t you a tough cunt?” Drifter praised, taking a quick breather. “Shame you joined a shitty cult.”
The demon took a moment to compose himself. “I am no cultist. I simply came to the human world out of boredom. I heard there was a human here who was far stronger than any creature in the demon world, so I grew curious. It seems the rumours were true.”
“So, you’ve been sitting on your arse this whole time, waiting for me?”
“Indeed. I’m not sure why these humans chose to worship me, a simple warrior, but the priest insisted I stay, implying if I did, that you would show yourself. Although, I wager he wasn’t expecting to encounter you first.”
“So, what’s your plan now?”
“Now… we begin phase two.”
Stolz raised his two zweihanders above him, in an upside-down cross formation as he began his chant.
“May the souls of the fallen, lend me their undying valour! May their hopes and despair, their forgotten dreams and empty screams give me strength!”
“Pardon?”
The corpses of his deceased underlings emanated with a black aura, transferring their demonic energy into Stolz, as he too gained a powerful black burst of energy.
“What… the hell is he doing?” Dale asked, just barely lifting his head off the ground.
“His power just fucking skyrocketed.” Drifter bemoaned.
Stolz stabbed his sword into the earth, creating a fissure that chased towards Drifter. Once it reached its target, a burst of dark energy erupted from the ground. Drifter dodged to the side, impressed by how far the geyser of energy reached into the sky.
So distracted was Drifter, he wasn’t aware of the second fissure chasing him down. He braced himself for impact, but this was no mere geyser. Now that Stolz could see he had Drifter trapped, the fissure spread out around him. A large circular crater quickly formed, before a massive explosion of energy consumed Drifter in a wave of black lightning.
Stolz seemed pleased with himself. “You look irritated.”
While Drifter didn’t look hurt, protected by his white aura, he did seem frazzled by Stolz’ sudden power escalation. He wasn’t like most demons, he wasn't fighting on instinct or ego. This was a true warrior.
Drifter drew his sword and charged forth, once again. Stolz returned in kind. He ran forward until the two of them clashed, at least that’s what Stolz expected to happen, but Drifter instead chose to use his sword to vault himself over Stolz at the last second, landing behind him.
Without even turning to aim, Drifter pointed his finger behind himself and fired another sparkling shot at Stolz, but the demon spun around, smacking the light grenade away with his darkness infused fist. The blast collided with a tree, vaporising it.
“Stop playing games!” Stolz demanded.
“Now who sounds irritated.” Drifter retorted.
“If you refuse to fight seriously, then I shall make you!”
Stolz clashed both of his swords together, raising them into the air as he gathered his full might. The blades crackled with dark bolts, as they glowed with an intense black luster. The blades slowly merged together, forging a massive murky sword, twice their size.
“Now… Face me!”
Stolz hammered the gargantuan zweihander down upon Drifter. Without even facing his opponent, Drifter lifted his hand and caught the blade, which was intent on crushing him under the weight of its sheer force. The earth shook at the ferocity of the power on display, as Stolz pushed against Drifter’s single palm harder and harder.
“Why!? Why!?” He questioned as the pressure intensified.
Even with the ground splitting underneath him, Drifter refused to budge, his white aura growing ever more fierce. He felt his hand along the heated sword, until he found the spot he was searching for.
“Got him.”
With a sudden firm clench of his fist, Drifter snapped the thunderous saber in two. The world became still again, as the large beaming blade split into its original form, with one half landing beside Drifter.
He picked up the smoking blade and tossed it over his shoulder, back to Stolz, who was still unamused by Drifter’s lackadaisical attitude.
"How did you do that?" Stolz asked.
"You combined your swords together, so I just found the spot where the blades met and split them apart again. It's not rocket science." Drifter responded.
“Why? Why do you hold back? Why do you refuse to face me head on?”
“Not my style.”
“When I came to this world, I expected CORE’s wielder to be an unparalleled warrior, whose power was absolute, but I was wrong. You are no warrior, you’re just another human.”
Stolz turned his back, but before leaving he left with one final comment. “I do not understand why you humans continue to lie to yourselves, fearing your own potential. I can only hope that one day, you will take responsibility for the power you’ve been blessed with and use it properly. Whatever insecurities are holding you back, once you've overcome them, I’ll gladly fight you again, with your real strength.”
With his parting message, Stolz tore open a portal and returned to the demon world.
“You going to lie there all day, kid?” Drifter asked.
“You could give me a hand, you know?”
“You’ve got two, don’t ya?”
Drifter looked up at the acolytes, still stunned by the battle they witnessed.
“What the fuck are you people still doing here!? Your little cult gathering is over! The mist demon’s gone! Go home! Get a beer, watch TV, go back to your normal lives!”
The crowd meekly dispersed, unsure of what to do with themselves now that the demons they had put all their faith in were defeated, by just a couple of humans. However, one stayed behind. They needed answers, advice, anything to put them at ease.
“Lord Anderson told us that humans were weak, that succumbing to the demons was the only way for us to survive the coming new world, but you contradict those teachings… tell me, are you our saviour, or another devil?”
Drifter wasted no time in responding.
“Fuck off, retard.”