Both Ifrit and Sahia barely reached the front door of the Antelberg estate when the fight broke out. From the top of the hill, they could see how the battle became devastating and chaotic. Ifrit contemplated to go and help, but Sahia stopped him and said, “I know you want to help, Ifrit, so we’ll make this quick. We don’t have time to waste.”
“Sahia, I have a question,” asked Ifrit. “They’re here for you, not for your family. Why are they insisting that this is the right idea? They have nothing to do with you.”
“If their best reason is to cause me to despair, then their doing a rather good job,” said Sahia.
“And we’re walking into a trap.”
“Not if my family have something to do about it. Come on.”
Ifrit nodded as they walked towards the manor. However, both he and Sahia became worried by the devastated state of the estate. The garden and foliage were ransacked and damaged. Sahia could recognize the corpses of the gardeners and staffs who worked outside the manor. Lycans and humans alike were killed without remorse, some of them wearing Demon Hunter equipment. However, despite the front lawn showing the aftermath of a battle, there were no enemies in sight. Either the demons got away, or they were successfully killed by the Hunters. They were more worried by the silence, broken only by the battle in Stadelitz. Sahia became even more worried, thinking that she was too late.
Ifrit noticed this and, not wanting Sahia to despair, said, “We can’t assume the worst just yet. We haven’t checked the mansion. It is big, and they might know a place to hide.”
“You’re right,” she said, regaining her composure. “The door seems intact. Come on, Ifrit.”
The door to the manor was damaged, but surprisingly, not breached. Sahia wondered if it was due to it being partially iron wrought, knowing full well that the front door of a noble’s manor was usually the most fortified point in any old family’s houses. Ifrit did not think it was due to the door’s strength, but something else. He found the answer when, as he approached the door, he was repelled and flung away by an invisible force and landing on gravel front lawn. He looked at his hand and it was scalded, as if it were burnt.
Sahia quickly ran towards Ifrit and, noticing the scalded hand, then said, “A cleansing barrier. But why there?”
“Isn’t this your home?” said Ifrit as he winced from the pain.
Sahia walked back towards the door and now cautiously reached towards the door. Nothing happened to her as she knocked the door using the brass knocker shaped like a wolf’s head, the Antelberg family’s crest. Ifrit could see a hole slid open, revealing a human face from behind it, staring at Sahia and saying something in Dusdolfian, with Sahia replying as such. They continued their conversation as Ifrit slowly stood up and approached the door again, this time making sure not to climb the stairs, knowing what happened to him.
“She said the door’s guarded by anti-demonic enchantment,” said Sahia as he helped Ifrit up. “A failsafe measure in case the cleansing barrier around the home failed.”
“You could’ve told me about that.”
“I don’t know there’s a failsafe measure installed. Sorry.”
Ifrit thought that Sahia was luring him into a trap, but that was just his doubts making him think about Sahia as a traitor, which planted the idea in the first place. He tried his best fighting against being convinced that she was luring him into a trap, knowing that at that point, any suspicions would only make things worse. But he defended his (silent) suspicion about her, knowing that even she did not know that the estate was rigged.
Before Ifrit could start thinking about Sahia’s allegiance, the front door opened and from inside, a werewolf wearing a vest over his long-sleeved shirt and grey-colored pants walked out carrying a double-barreled gun. He noticed Sahia and, relieved, he embraced her as she returned the affection, both looking full of emotions. Ifrit looked at the show of genuine affection and, relieved that she was genuinely trying to find her safe family, slowly walked away, intending to return to help his friends.
Just as he walked away, Sahia noticed him walking away without looking back, quickly stopped him by saying, “Hey, wait. What are you doing? You haven’t met my husband.”
Ifrit stopped as Sahia approached him with the werewolf. The werewolf patted his shoulder and, in perfect Tragorian, said, “I owe you my thanks, hellhound. I have waited, impatiently, for the well-being of my dear wife for days now. I have almost lost hope, but I know my wife better than others.”
“Ah, well, I…thanks. But, uh….” Ifrit was at a loss of words. He wasn’t sure whether he should tell the Lycan about himself. He soon found that he did not need to.
“And yes. My wife told me of your heritage. Thus, it is imperative for me to ask you this, as a show of mutual trust. Do you wish to harm us?”
The werewolf exuded a noble aura, which made Ifrit inspired to reply as honestly as possible. Only a direct, honest word could convince him, so he stood straight and, looking at his eyes, said, “I do not wish to harm you, and I hope you will do the same to me.”
“Hmmm,” said the werewolf. Sahia then said something to him in Dusdolfian, which he nodded. After that, his lupine expression changed and he said, “It is an honest response. Then I wish to extend my welcome to our estate. My name is Maximillian von Antelberg, master of this estate.”
He bowed courteously as Ifrit returned bow, albeit awkwardly.
“And I must apologize for the anti-demonic ward that hurt you. It is there as a precaution, in case dear Sahia’s daring diversion did not work as intended. But unfortunately, I cannot receive my guest inside. The ward stays, as without it my children and staffs will be vulnerable from the demons. Even now, I can smell their foul stench coming from those poor souls who—”
“About the foul stench,” interrupted Ifrit. “I need to ask you something. I’m sorry if this sounds rude, but I need your help.”
“Stadelitz, isn’t it? Yes, I’m afraid it boils down to this. I have told the mayor of that town to seal off the tunnel ever since Morran fell, but he foolishly made it into a shelter for the poor, unfortunate souls that ran from their home, while making a shoddy barricade that will certainly risk those who made the tunnel as their temporary home. Those refugees should be allowed in the homes of the people, or at the very least, be allowed to evacuate.”
“You knew about the invasion?”
“Ever since the disturbance of Snohand. As you might have known, Dusdolf has been fighting demons since time immemorial, which is the reason for the establishment of the Demon Hunter Association. Unfortunately, no one but a select few believes their importance, thinking it’s an association of nobles. Well, I can’t simply blame them. People tend to think all of the nightmares as dreams, deluding themselves from what’s real.”
“Anyway,” said Ifrit, who listened everything Maximilian said without interrupting him. “Can you help us?”
“Yes, I will help you.” He then readied his gun, one that Ifrit quickly realized was not a rifle. “This…pump gun the Hunters gave me is a tad barbaric, but I can tell how it strikes fear to our enemies. It would be a shame to see this being used against a fellow Lycan, or even humans, for that matter.”
“Right now, we need all the firepower you can provide,” said Ifrit. “More importantly, can it kill demons?”
“Silver anti-demonic bullets in several individual shells. Good for ten reloads after five-shot spent.”
“Anti-demonic bullets? But aren’t demon hunters—”
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
“Prohibit the use of such weapons? Only the old guards believe that. I believe that, when lives are at stake, we cannot afford to maintain our pride and glory. Even I am willing to fight.”
“Good enough for me,” said Ifrit, overly eager to join the fight down the hill. “Thank you. Now come on.”
Maximilian nodded, though personally, he tried not to show a hint of annoyance to Ifrit’s rude and direct speech, knowing that the situation was urgent. He was, of course, personally annoyed, though he understood if Ifrit wasn’t keen of formality. It wasn’t simply everyone’s thing.
As Maximilian walked back to his estate with Sahia in gathering his arsenal, Ifrit said, “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” asked Sahia.
“For doubting you. It’s what I’m bad at: trusting people at face value.”
“Don’t worry about it,” said Sahia. “We’ll talk later.”
Ifrit still had a lingering doubt towards Sahia, even after she showed that she was married to the Antelberg wolf noble, and she showed her half-blood hellhound children. He never trusted someone completely as per his foster parent’s teaching.
But he was determined to stop doing that, not after Albert, Lilac, Eshdar, and Sammael. Not after Anubis and Wepwawet. He had people to trust, more than he thought he would in his journey. This time…he must learn how to truly depend on his allies.
And in addition to that…himself.
***
Stadelitz’s defense started to crumble as more and more demons came, most of them summoned by hellhound acolytes along with what looked like humans among their ranks. These humans looked so different as they were so pale and sick-looking, as if they had died, though they weren’t.
As Ifrit’s group approached Stadelitz, some of the demons from the tunnel along with the hellhounds supporting them broke from the main invasion force and confronted them. Ifrit quickly surmised they weren’t there to negotiate, especially when one of them lunged towards him after realizing who he was. Ifrit had no time dealing with them and quickly grabbed the hellhound shouting at him and threw him aside, just as he was attacked by other demons. Maximilian saved him by shooting the demons, disintegrating their top half as the anti-demon silver bullet hit them at close range. Sahia helped with a silver anti-demon sword that cleaved through several Barghests with ease, disintegrating them like Maximilian’s victims.
Ifrit kept going, but he felt a very apparent reluctance when the tension of the fight started to get into him, and his hands started to lit up. He noticed this and quickly tried to stop, hesitating just as a demon jumped at him and grabbed him. He used the now searing hand to burn the demon, causing it to shriek in agony before dying.
His reluctance, and his struggles to stop himself, caused his darker personality to confront him.
“(Don’t try and deny it, Ifrit),” said the dark personality, this time without the mocking, condescending attitude and more serious in tone. “(You can’t deny who you really are).”
“(Will you…stop?)” said Ifrit as he struggled to stop his hands from producing hellfire. “(I don’t want this! I never want to be a demon spawn!)”
“(If that is the case, you will die),” said the dark personality. “(Don’t argue with me and start fighting. I’m trying to save both our skins here).”
“(And throw away who I am? I think not).”
“(How long have we been doing this song and dance, hmm? This is why I prefer when you are still asleep so I can be free. I don’t even know why I even consider waking you up in the first place!)”
Ifrit, in his head, yelled at his other personality, trying to attack him despite of knowing that it was in his mind. His body, however, attacked and brutally killed his enemies, now including lesser demons that the clawed or burn to death.
“(Then do it! I don’t care! You love the battle, don’t you?! There is that Infernal you want to best, so do it and leave me alone)!”
“(That is not the right answer. As much as I hate it, waking you up is necessary if we want to stay like we are and not a bloodthirsty Infernal like that goat),” said the darker personality. “(I thought I’d give you a chance to believe in yourself, but we are pressed on time. We either do this, or we die!)”
“(There is no ‘we’ here!)”
“(Exactly! You cannot deny who you are anymore, Ifrit. Just accept that you can no longer be the Ifrit Schelkz your girlfriend knows three years ago! You cannot be bogged down by a past that can no longer be yours!)”
Ifrit’s struggle to accept his darker personality’s reasoning came with his less-than-satisfying battle against the demons that threatened Sahia and Maximillian. In fact, the husband and wife team managed to kill and maim even more demons while Ifrit looked distracted and even struggling to maintain an offensive streak. Some of the demons even managed to score a couple of hits that, while they were not enough to incapacitate or kill Ifrit, showed that the half-Infernal hellhound was distracted.
This was made worse by the fact that both Sahia and Maximillian did not know Ifrit enough to consider something was wrong. They were not even aware of his internal struggles, which prompted Maximilian to turn to Sahia and said, “I thought you said he’s a dangerous fighter!”
“I thought so at first!” exclaimed Sahia, who narrowly managed to stab her sword through a corrupted hellhound. She turned to Ifrit and said, “Ifrit! Keep your head in the game! We won’t last much longer!”
“(Can you hear them, Ifrit?)” said the dark personality as Ifrit struggled to stop his hands from producing hellfire. “(They’re calling for help. I personally don’t care about them, but you, on the other hand…).”
“(Okay, okay! Fuck!)” exclaimed Ifrit, upon realizing that the struggle with himself cost his effectiveness which could potentially turn the situation sour. “(You win! Just do that thing you usually do and leave me alone!)”
“(I’ll give you a better deal),” said the other personality. “(How about if we call a truce and hold hands? Even if we have different ideas about friendship and love, we do want to survive).”
Before Ifrit could give the answer, Sahia was thrown towards Ifrit and both got thrown to the floor. This broke his inner conversation with his darker self as he looked at the demon confronting them. The demon looked more human-like compared to the monstrous creatures sent to them, almost like hellhounds, but belonged to different kinds. In fact, for the three, she was the first demon that was undeniably female.
“Is that what you Demon Hunters are capable of?” said one of them, a human-looking, crimson-skinned demon wearing skimpy clothing and carrying a whip.
Both Maximilian and Sahia, however, were unfazed, which only made the demon amused. “Very well,” she said. “I will feed on your despairing soul. Your struggle is as futile as your kind, mortals!”
Ifrit, recovering, quickly tried to end the fight before it could begin. However, his inner struggles and his still very apparent reluctance in accepting his demonic heritage caused him to be more of a liability, especially when he failed to dodge a different demon that attacked him from behind. He was prevented from being instantly killed when his reflex kicked in at the vital moment, only giving him a gash that, while not fatal, could potentially incapacitate him.
He turned around and come face to face with another demon. This demon looked like a humanoid feline or a werecat, who looked very foreign for Ifrit, as he had never assumed that a werecat was possible. He had a leopard head, with body covered in spotted fur, much like his head. His feet were feline paws . He did not wear anything that could give him any meaningful protection, with the leopard demon, like the human-like, sultry demon Sahia and Maximilian faced, wore almost nothing. All he wore was a thong, some bracelets, and jewelries that seemed to indicate a flaunting of wealth.
Ifrit quickly became aware of the sword that struck him. It wasn’t wielded by the leopard demon. In fact, it, along with an identical pair, levitated behind him, ready to strike Ifrit from afar, which he did. With his concentration restored after being injured enough, Ifrit dodged by rolling aside. While the leopard demon managed to anticipate this, Ifrit came on the top when he burned the sword with hellfire. While it wasn’t enough to melt the sword, it stopped the demon from attacking him.
Ifrit could feel great tension from the demon, much like Azgal. While it wasn’t as dreadful as the goat demon, Ifrit was aware of the danger. He needed to keep his mind in the battlefield, not struggling with himself.
“I wonder where I smell that wrathful stench,” said the demon. “I never thought you’d be the one.”
“And does it matter?”
“It does interest me on how an Infernal can sire a hellhound child, considering how demons from the lower circles only revel in violence and chaos. They can’t understand the need for subtlety.”
“You’re not the one to talk about subtlety if that’s what you’re wearing,” said Ifrit. “Not to mention your…whatever it is you call yourself.”
“Sovor,” said the demon. “A name I chose for myself. I am a demon serving under Ose. In return, he bestowed his form upon me.”
“Well, you’re not half bad,” said Ifrit, acknowledging the fact that Sovor looked rather exotic, at least in his mind.
“You aren’t either, though I wonder. How much of that Infernal blood is in you? It will make quite an interesting study.”
“Oh, don’t bet on it, cat,” said Ifrit. “I’m not your test subject.”
“Isn’t it natural to be curious? Demons and you mortals are similar in that regard.”
“Curiosity can be deadly.”
“It can, which begs the question. Do you have the ability to show me? Do you have what it takes to be an Infernal you claimed to be?”
Ifrit did not hesitate to give the leopard demon an answer. He quickly jumped towards Sovor and attacked him. One of the swords blocked Ifrit’s claw. Their eyes met, glaring at each other and silently challenging each other to a fight.
After they broke off the staring contest, Ifrit pulled out his own sword, one that he barely ever used ever since he started the journey. He wasn’t sure if the sword would not just break on first clash, but he should at least try.
“(Bring it, cat),” said Ifrit, taunting Sovor in Hordo.
As he lunged towards the demon, he could hear his darker personality commending him for finally knowing which priority Ifrit had. However, he soon reminded Ifrit of his current fact, which would remind the hellhound of what he should do if he ever needed an edge.
“(Accept who you really are before the inevitable happen, Ifrit. Only then will you be able to unleash your full potential. Now, what will it be?)”