-NIRVANA: Emon’s Realm-
In the spiritual world of Nirvana, Emon was seen running on what seemed to be an infinitely large surface of cold stone, surrounded by the overarching gray mist. It was so much that he could only slightly perceive the object that lay before him; A large, black-coloured gate that led to his own soul.
Michel’s assumptions were right. Emon was going to try and “free” his own soul from the Father’s grasp. Emon knew he was going to attempt and intervene, so he tried his hardest to reach the gate and free himself. However, he also knew that Geisterpriesterin was most likely already pursuing him in the physical plane and awaited his return.
Winning or losing the battle against Michel, here, would result in the same outcome. Emon would either be killed or captured by the Lady in Black, and potentially be put back into the Father’s grasp once more. Regardless, none of this fazed him, and he decided to only focus on freeing his soul, for now.
He leaped in the air and summoned his fifth Creature, one very reminiscent of the sixth Creature, but the lower part of the humanoid being resembled that of a snake. Right before Emon landed on the Creature’s back…
…a swarm of black butterflies, morphed into one giant hand, grasped him. The hand grew longer and longer, gradually stretching itself far up in the air. It turned around to make Emon face the individual who had just infiltrated his “realm”. Michel was seen standing on the ground with his left palm stretched out towards him, guiding the Sequencer characteristic he “stole” from the Lady in Black.
Emon’s Creature immediately went for Michel, aggressively slithering through the ground and leaping towards him with great velocity. Michel raised his right hand and “stole” Grisha’s Sequencer characteristic. He formed his fingers into a claw, and five gigantic swords glowing with gold and white subsequently crashed into the Creature, one by one.
The speed of these swords was so swift that they pierced the ground underneath. The Creature, skewered by the swords, hung on them midair, its strength gradually fading away under the pressure of the soul pressure-siphoning swords.
Emon sneered at him from above, speaking with a jesting tone.
“That was faster than I thought. Didn’t even give me the chance to scratch the gate.”
“You are a fool if you think something as simple as this would work,” Michel responded, causing Emon to smile even more prominently, contorting his eyebrows as though he was experiencing sadistic pleasure.
“Is that so?!”
Suddenly, from behind Emon, his Grimoire appeared, and outside of it, three different Creatures flew out; A tri-unity of blade-wielding Fairies, that appeared like young women dressed in loose white robes that merged seamlessly with their pale/gray skin and white glowing wings.
One of those Fairies easily struck the large hand that gripped Emon in half, causing it to disperse in the air. Emon gracefully descended on the ground, surrounded by his 40th Creature, the three Fairies.
They were now facing each other once more within the misty atmosphere. Emon placed his hands in the pockets of his jacket, and spoke to him with a proud tone,
“You’re inside of my realm, which puts you at a disadvantage.”
He then silently commanded his 40th Creature to attack Michel. They all flew towards him, their swords at the ready. Michel ticked his tongue and leaped away to make distance. One of the Fairies was faster than the others and reached him first. As it swung its blade, it was met with a barrier of black butterflies that felt like a wall of sand being magically controlled.
As soon as the sword made contact with the wall, black butterflies began crawling on the blade towards the body of the Fairy like a swarm of spiders attempting to consume its entire body. However, the first Fairy was saved by the second one, as it swept its blade upward, vertically slashing the wall in half.
The three Fairies then continued to swing their swords at Michel one after the other. Michel kept avoiding each swing with the help of Geisterpriesterin’s Sequencer characteristic. Just one swing of these Fairies would be enough to destroy an entire house, and yet, Michel was able to save himself from each one of them, while being injured.
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Neck, chest, arm, leg, abdomen, and any visible part of his body were both being targeted and protected, as though a swing aimed at a random location of his body would be met with a cluster of black butterflies ready to disseminate the force at any moment. However, the speed and magnitude of each of these slashes started to push Michel to his limits…
…He decided to go a step further.
Michel took a large leap backwards as the Fairies rapidly followed him. Not given a chance to get even near him, Michel raised his left hand, his palm facing downwards, as if trying to telepathically summon a sword from beneath with his hand. Right when his hand reached high enough, his lower body was enveloped in a swirl of black butterflies that instantly grew into a colossal whirlwind like a wide waterspout forming in a sea.
Emon pursued him and decided to stretch out his control. With Michel looking down upon him from very high up, Emon ran towards the foot of the whirlwind, flipped through the pages of his Grimoire, and threw it high up in the air. And with a thunderous voice, he shouted,
“Arise, Red Dragon of the Uterine Sea!”
Following his words, time seemed to have slowed down tremendously. Michel looked upwards, and tried to guide the black butterflies to form into a hand and stop the Dragon from being summoned,
but it was already too late.
In an instant, the Red Dragon twice the size of the gigantic whirlwind propelled itself out of Emon’s Grimoire, and as soon as it floated in the air, it spread out its limbs and wings and let out a thunderous roar the war cries of a thousand-man army would pale in comparison.
Knowing how destructive the Red Dragon was, Michel dove back into the whirlwind and made it explode throughout the entire area, causing the countless of black butterflies to scatter everywhere. The gray mist that permeated Emon’s realm was already enough to obscure most surroundings, but now, everything turned black. With no sense of direction, Emon stood still and was about to command the Red Dragon to spew fire onto the swarm, yet… before he did so…
…His chest was punctured by a sword made of black butterflies from beneath. And then another pierced him from behind, and then another one from in front, and then another, and another, and another, and another blade pierced him until there were seventeen swords brutally skewering every part of his chest area.
Blood gushed out of Emon’s mouth as he realized Michel’s plans. One of Geisterpriesterin’s Sequencer characteristics was the ability to “mark” any form of surrounding matter. Doing so would allow her to essentially perform spatial magic by making black butterflies appear from any marked area.
Michel, having “stolen” her Sequencer characteristics, had “marked” a gigantic area surrounding both him and Emon. As soon as Emon was defeated, Michel commanded for the black butterflies to disperse, allowing them both to view each other once more.
The Red Dragon was mercilessly punctured by countless of sharp pillars that grew from the “marked” ground. It hung its body over the pillars in defeat. The 40th Creature, too, was at a complete loss, not able to move an inch.
Michel then gracefully descended before Emon and leaned over to him with his hands folded behind his back, closing the distance between his face and Emon’s, who was grunting and emitting blood-bubbling sounds in protest to his taunt.
“What disadvantage?”
Emon was at a loss for words. Even if he was able to talk, he would not be able to retaliate at all. He fell completely powerless under Michel’s overwhelming presence. At that moment, Michel was the puppet master, and Emon, a mere marionette. As he raised his left hand, black butterflies formed into a sharp sword, perched in his palm. As he was readying to finish him off, he gave his final goodbyes.
“Return to where you belong. Geister is awaiting your return.”
And without bothering to hear any sort of response from Emon, with a single, clean motion, he slashed Emon’s head off his body. His head with a now lifeless expression rotated several times in the air before tumbling on the ground.
It was over.
***
-PHYSICAL PLANE: Geisterpriesterin-
At the edge of a cliff that overlooked the rest of the forest, the Lady in Black was standing before Emon’s sixth Creature which she had completely dismantled. The humanoid Creature now appeared as a small cluster of mushy flesh and insides. A wide, eerie smile formed on her face, silently awaiting Emon’s inevitable return.
After some seconds, a cluster of gray mist appeared, and spat “Emon” out of it, his head intact. Geisterpriesterin was so eager to capture him that she didn’t even let Emon make contact with the ground, even though it was as close as a foot about to step on the ground. Black butterflies gathered from below and kept him afloat. She leaned over to his face, and said with a malicious tone,
“Don’t you dare move an inch.”
Emon gradually awakened, and upon realizing his circumstance, he began to chuckle like a patient on a bed laughing to himself as death approached him.
“…Seems like I’ve lost.”
His chuckle then gradually elevated into a full-on maniacal laughter. His back arched, chest protruding forwards as he kept his gaze on the sky above with widened eyes.
“I admit it, Sylas! Your subordinates are fiercer than I thought! Let the world burn… let it all burn! May it begin! May the world burn down!”
His voice gradually grew muffled as Geister made her black butterflies form around him and completely consumed his body as if he fell into a pit of quicksand.