If magic was a concept that existed within humans themselves, then what made demons so special? Angels had their signature avian wings, but demons, as far as Peter was concerned, only had the edge of connecting with others through the mind.
[Naturally, just the presence of magic doesn’t make our existence wholly unique.] That was the answer his current partner had told him during the days they were stuck in jail.
[What does, however, is our own brand of magic.]
It was a unique ritual that required complete sync between the demon and their vessel, the bearer of the cross. Once the human and demon reached a certain level of trust and understanding, the latter could manifest their power to the outside world using the former’s body as a conduit, granting a boost in physical strength as well as magical ability. The ultimate form of offense and defense, Demonic Armor, or Armed Mode for short.
However, there was a major drawback with this technique – not only was trust a requirement between the two sides, but the vessel also had to achieve enough magical power to create a balance with their demonic partner. Peter, naturally, did not possess this quality. But for Balam alone, that was not an issue.
[Do you know how plants grow?] The demon had asked his human partner that question during their training.
It was common knowledge to humans of old, but lost in the long line of history of the current world. By absorbing sunlight and certain gasses in the air, plants could grow without the need for proper food – that was photosynthesis. Balam’s magic, which was predominantly plant-based, had the same way of powering itself.
Sunlight was his main source of strength. The higher the sun, the more his magic grew. Not only that, he could directly use the flow of mana in the natural world to fuel his spells. This proved to be the key detail for the pair to attempt their first Armed – with Balam supplementing sunlight instead of Peter’s mana, the latter could temporarily establish a link strong enough to bring forth their trump card.
There was only one problem with that plan – it was all theory. For their three days in the prison cell, they couldn’t get access to any sunlight, and as a result, they had no practice of the supposed ultimate form. Peter’s last move as he jumped out of the castle’s window was akin to an all-or-nothing gamble, one that if got wrong, would have to be paid with his life.
[You reckless fool!] Balam’s voice roared inside his partner’s head.
“Thanks, I get that a lot!” Peter wholeheartedly laughed as the pair fell to their supposed doom. The boy closed his eyes, but his spirit hadn’t crumbled one bit. In the darkness of his subconscious, he tried to connect himself to the reserve within him and around him one more time, all while letting his body follow the course of gravity.
Countless yellow spots formed around the boy in a much larger density than ever before, causing him to physically glow in daylight. A warm sensation coursed through his body, alleviating himself of any fatigue left. But not all was well, for at the same time, a hail of arrows rained down from the sky, aiming at his unsuspecting and defenseless body.
This time, however, none pierced his skin.
The arrows bounced off his body. Each time one broke, a clanging sound echoed through the air. The signature sound of collision between metal and metal.
Peter no longer had a ripped tunic and pants, nor on him was a tattered prison garb from before. A shining iron armor covered the boy’s torso, on it gleamed an azure three-headed lion. Solid steel gloves wrapped around his hands, while his feet wore the same kind of dazzling booths. On his back, a deep blue cap with a fluffy white rim fluttered in the wind. And on his head, a golden crown fit for a king.
“It worked!” The boy exclaimed in joy. However, his partner wouldn’t let him gloat for long:
[Need I remind you that we’re still falling?]
“Oh, please. You know it better than anyone else, right?” Peter could only chuckle at the warning. “As if something of that caliber can hurt us anymore.”
Following his remark filled with confidence, the boy stabbed Carnwennan downward. This time, there was no delay – a giant tree grew in mere seconds, its leaves gathered in thick layers enough to break his fall into nothing more than a gentle thud, while the armor absorbed any impact left that might endanger his body.
Dusting off his new armor, Peter mumbled:
“How much time do we have?”
[Five minutes, and that’s me being generous.] Realizing that it was mostly adrenaline that fueled the boy, Balam could only answer with a figurative shake of the head in disappointment. [And look. We have company.]
True to the demon’s words, their enemies had already gathered – the angels on the right, all flying in the sky, their bows and arrows aimed at the boy with nothing but the most suffocating killing intent. Meanwhile, below the tree, other knights had also started to rally themselves. An elite troop aimed their bows like the angels, another prepared a large catapult, while some of them carried giant axes in their hands, hoping to cut down the tree and the boy along with it.
The smile disappeared on Peter’s face. It wasn’t that he was in danger – the moment he had unlocked Armed, he was already victorious. The problem was that they still hadn’t let him go. And now, stuck on a giant tree, the boy was left with only one choice left.
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[Well? Are you ready to discard that no-killing mentality of yours yet?] The demon within him chuckled, his voice mocking Peter’s effort until now.
“But if we use that…”
[You have to realize that they’re not going to give up, even if you use the same attacks as before. We need that if we want to get rid of them.]
“One wrong aim of it, and everything will be destroyed,” Peter argued.
[Then point it at the sky. You have no qualms with striking angels, right?]
Peter tightened his grip on his dagger. He knew that his partner was right. People, he could never live with the guilt of killing if he had to bear it. However, angels would be a different matter altogether. They’d caused nothing but misery for him ever since his childhood. During that night, when Balam’s power first surged within him, Peter knew that if it had come down to the wire, he would have had no problems with ripping through those white wings if it meant his escape. He knew it all too well, and that was why he hesitated.
What if he would lose himself with this move? What if it would turn him into something like them – tools of violence and killing, ready to trample on others if it had meant their own satisfaction? Peter never considered himself to be a hero, but never in his life would he want to stoop as low as the perpetrators behind his suffering.
With that thought in mind, the boy took a deep breath, and prepared his final gamble:
“Listen up!” Raising his voice as loud as he could, Peter shouted, Carnwennan pointing up in the air. “If you value your lives, I suggest leaving the Palace’s court this instance! Anyone staying will be understood as wanting to die, on the count of three!”
“One!” As the boy started the count. The angels fired their first flurry of arrows.
Peter directed his dagger hand towards the incoming assault. From his side, a branch grew larger, throwing itself in front of the boy to act as a shield. As it retracted to its original position, the angels flew even higher up, hoping to gain high ground against their adversary.
“Two!”
From below, there was a light rummaging. The group of knights with axes started to chop down the tree, while the catapult group started loading their projectiles. Boulders the size of an adult were flung up in the air, not reaching high enough to hit Peter directly but were more than enough to break some large branches on the giant tree. Some even hit the trunk itself, causing a large crumbling of its bark.
Peter let out a sigh. If the previous instances were anything to go by, the boy was terrible at gambling.
[How about now?]
Pointing the mythical dagger up in the sky once more, Peter answered, his eyes closed in acceptance:
“At least, I choose who I would kill. And these scums…at least they’re the most deserving to die.
“Grow, Carnwennan!”
The legendary dagger Carnwennan was a seedling waiting to bloom. With soil being their magical power, water being the experience they had accumulated, and sunlight being… actual sunlight, its potential would finally be unleashed.
Back in the cross’s dimension, it was only a rusted sword. After being revived, it reverted to its current form. And now…
The dagger in Peter’s hand let out a blinding golden light, searing even the boy’s gloved hand in an unimaginable heat. The tiny blade could no longer be seen, as it changed into something that was almost as if it was pure light itself.
Then, it grew.
One-hand length. Two-hand length. One-arm length. Sone enough, it was already almost as long as both of Peter’s arms put together. Its blade widened as well, going from only about two fingers to a three-finger width in an instant. The hilt also grew a tad longer, fitting more perfectly into the boy’s grip, while his arm could feel its weight increasing by many folds.
As the light dispersed, there was no more dagger in Peter’s hand. Instead, a gleaming sword made of only the finest of steel emerged, an azure line running along the shining blade like a signal of victory. Engraved on the blade were the golden letters “Excalibur”.
Like a seedling blooming into a beautiful flower, Carnwennan had grown into the strongest sword in humanity’s history, Excalibur – a feat only made possible by the synchronization between Peter and Balam, bringing up its potential due to the usage of Armed Mode. The transformation was only temporary, due to the same nature of their current armor, but it was more than enough to strike fear into the entire battlefield.
[Remember, you got one shot.] The demon sounded.
“I know. I’ll make it count.”
Meanwhile, in the air, the angels had already noticed the presence of humanity’s strongest sword. As their faces contorted in fear, they rushed forward in a final assault of arrows, hoping to take out the caster before disaster could strike them.
Down the tree, Peter took a deep breath. A trickle of blood flowed out the corner of his mouth. Carnwennan’s magic was directly using plants and trees as weapons or projectiles, so it was easy for the boy to build an image and unleash its strength. Excalibur, however, was an entirely different story.
Though he had heard Balam’s explanation, Peter couldn’t make sense of the power the sword wielded. It used sunlight itself as its weapon, condensing the immense heat into a straight line to incinerate everything that crossed its path – a beam of pure solar energy. However, since the boy couldn’t ‘imagine’ what that kind of power would be, he had no chance to use it as he did with Carnwennan.
[Repeat after me.]
A burning sensation roared in Peter’s throat as the boy couldn’t help but feel admiration for his friend. I can’t believe Bea managed to do something like this without trouble at all.
From Excalibur, a column of light ruptured, taking the shape of the blade, yet its energy flowed with the speed of a torrent, unlike any other light that had shown up before.
Raising the sword to the sky, Peter let his voice rip through the air:
“A' gabhail ri beatha, a' gabhail ri gaia
Tha solus na grèine a' lasadh as a chèile!”[1]
The blast was supposed to tear through the sky to smite the angels standing in his way. However, the boy had made one tragic miscalculation once more.
The knights on the ground, whom he had deliberately ignored to avoid any irreversible injuries, succeeded in cutting down the tree. In just a second, Peter lost his foothold. The tree, following gravity’s pull, dropped directly down the ground. And two problems came along with it.
One, the tree was massive, and now it was falling straight into the castle.
Two, there was a boy currently on the tree, and he was charging up an attack that would easily tear the castle in half if he chose it as the target.
And so, what would happen when that crazy attack was mistakenly directed at the castle?
A large crushing sound of rocks, followed by a blinding explosion.
In a mere second, half of the royal castle had been reduced to mere dust.
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[1] Embracing life, embracing gaia/The sun’s light burns asunder