Belphegor resumed his attack, swinging his axe with all the strength in his body. With his attack inevitably aimed at Alexander's side, he smirked.

Out of instinct, Alexander raised the sword to block the incoming attack. As the demon's axe impacted the holy sword, an earsplitting sound reverberated throughout this world.

Even in this situation, Alexander couldn't keep himself from smiling. "Don't worry!" he shouted.

"I'll... win this!"

Gabriel's vision began to return through his bloodshot eye. He slammed his fist on the ground, thinking, 'How... Why is that Demon-Born able to wield that sword?!'

Anastasia gripped her injured shoulder, as she looked to her side, seeing Gabriel's ill expression. She understood what he was thinking. She spoke up, "The sword has found him to be worthy. You know that, don't you? That's all there is to it."

All the three Virtues could do was gaze at the marveling sight. Like a man possessed, all Alexander did was swing his sword with all the power in his body.

The dazzling sight of Alexander, shining so brightly, fighting with every ounce of strength he possessed.

Alexander gripped the sword with both hands, slashing at the demon.

His eyes were glistening with gleaming vigor as their blades clashed, emanating earsplitting sounds.

It was unthinkable. Belphegor, a demon, one of the deadly sins incarnate, was being pushed back. He was being pushed back by a child who had never wielded a sword. A child who barely knew magic.

It's strange. The instant in which Alexander grasped the sword, the tides of the battle suddenly shifted. The demon was no longer a being of overwhelming power.

Even with Belphegor's vast speed and power, Alexander matched all of his attacks with his own. Alexander's mind went on autopilot: dodge, slash, deflect, thrust, duck. He broke through Belphegor's defense.

This was disgraceful. To be pushed back by a single boy. He snapped, pushing his axe against the sword. "You insolent child!" he growled.

Yet Alexander remained unfazed. He tilted the blade and pushed upward, preventing Belphegor's next attack.

He was wide open. Alexander slashed at the demon's chest, but Belphegor caught the blade.

When holy weapons come into contact with demonic magic or demons themselves...

The demon burns.

Belphegor let out a yell of agony, instantly letting go of the blade. He gripped the wrist of his sizzling hand, his thoughts and senses being drowned out by the singeing pain. He stared at his hand; It was nearly boiling, with steam coming for the warted and wrangled skin on his palm, purple blood seeping through the now-scarred flesh.

Alexander shut his left hand, driving his fist into Belphegor's gut.

Alexander didn't know how to fight, with or without weapons. All of his moves were that of a novice. He had no technique nor skill, but he didn't need those, anyway. After all, "technique" is nothing more than a creation to cover up weaknesses.

And here and now... In this battle... The black-haired boy had no weaknesses. Somehow, someway, he could wield Excalibur. It was... weightless in his arms.

Belphegor tossed his axe up into the air, before slamming his fist into Alexander's jaw.

Alexander's face narrowly budged. He pushed his head back at Belphegor, his eyes flashing with pale light. He threw his arm back, before driving it into Belphegor's already crumpled armor, launching him back.

Belphegor struggled to take in a breath. That single strike knocked out any air in lungs, and even forced blood up to his mouth. His eyes were trembling, his thoughts were amok. The second the boy came into contact with the sword, everything changed.

Alexander took a single step forward, only focusing on breathing inward and outward.

He swung his sword, unleashing a horizontal arc of water. The silver blade was now glowing with azure light. 'What the...' Alexander thought, as his eyes widened, fixated on the blue blade.

Alexander's head shot up right before a bolt of black flames shot out towards him. He instinctively jumped upward to evade, before slashing the sword, letting out another arc of water.

Belphegor gripped his axe to stay standing. His breaths were ragged, his steps labored. Murky blood dripped from his mouth and chest. The dull grey chest plate had been cracked, with a massive gash lined across his chest, the wound several inches deep.

Drops of purple blood were strewn on the ground as Belphegor put his hand on his chest, his eyes widening at the sight of his own blood and innards. His breaths staggered in confusion before he clenched his jaw with grit.

He's one of the seven Princes of the UnderWorld. He will not lose now. Belphegor gripped his axe with both hands, charging at Alexander.

Alexander clenched his jaw before slashing the sword upward.

Belphegor barely dodged the silver blade, with only its sharp tip, slashing against him and his plate of armor. A thin stream of blood gushed from the diagonal cut in his chest. But that wasn't enough.

He gripped his axe with both hands, unleashing it with an upward slash against Alexander's chest. Droplets of blood and chunks of broken bones danced in the air like strewn confetti.

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"Alexander!" Anastasia and Leonard cried.

'Well, that's not good,' Alexander thought, his feet slipping from the ground. Excalibur fell from his fingers.

Before his eyes shut, he made eye contact with the demon.

Belphegor twisted his axe for another attack. His voice boomed like thunder, "Die."

Alexander's eyes shot open as the sword flung back into his hand. "No, thanks," he uttered, smiling as his sword clashed against the axe.

Within that instant that he touched Excalibur, all his wounds were healed and his body was restored. Well, it was a miracle he hadn't already died from that attack.

Belphegor stepped back. He kicked Alexander in the chest, furthering the distance between them. The demon dashed away. Distance, distance, distance, he reminded himself.

The holy sword was just that. A sword. Useless from long range. And so, from a distance, Belphegor held the advantage. After all, this is the demon's world.

He tossed his black axe to the side and rubbed his hands together. His hands ignited in blood-red flames and were mixed with pure energy. The flames were shot out, each orb condensed and heavy in magic.

Alexander slammed his sword into them, negating the magic that came with them. The look in his eyes hadn't changed a bit.

"This little-" He froze. What was this feeling he couldn't shake? This feeling that combined stress and nausea, anger and sorrow. Was this... fear?

Their battle resumed. Belphegor launching blasts of flames, only for them to be put out by Alexander.

"Daammit," he muttered to himself. He aimed further back. At Anastasia and Leonard and Gabriel. Alexander couldn't fight Belphegor and protect his friends at the same time. At least that's what Belphegor thought.

Alexander's speed increased, darting from side to side, blocking and destroying every single blast of magic and flames. But that was impossible, wasn't it? He couldn't be reacting to every blast and burst within milliseconds of each other.

"Wait. Can you- You can see these shots?"

Yes. Alexander wasn't reacting. He was predicting.

Alexander smiled. 'Before each shot, his fingers- They have a tell. And now-' Another arc of water burst from his blade.

His smile widened as he continued slashing and cleaving the blade against the air. Not a single ball of flames got past him. And Belphegor sunk deeper into confusion.

Right now...

'I feel... I'm unstoppable.'

Finally... Alexander was winning.

Gabriel slowly tried to stand. His legs wobbled, before his knees buckled, crashing to the ground. 'He's clearly not the same!'

He grabbed his face, blood continuing to slowly drip down. "How... How the hell can he hold his own against that thing?"

'I can't stand it! This... pisses me off.'

"He's forcibly activating Avalon's magic through Excalibur itself to heal himself," Gabriel muttered, his eyes focused on the pitch-black ground. "And to this extent. There's no way this should be possible. But... But he's doing it. If we win... That'll be enough." He slammed his fist into the ground.

Alexander's stale voice mumbled. "All I have to do... is get in close."

A burst in speed pushed Alexander right in front of Belphegor.

The demon swallowed his saliva.

With a single upward slice, four of Belphegor's fingers fell to the ground.

He winced and clenched his jaw. His wounds only bled for a second, before being dried up, evaporated by the power of the sword.

Leonard also noticed. His sensory abilities for magic told him. He could feel the change Alexander underwent. But how the change occurred was the one thing that escaped him.

'Even if all he's trained for is enhancement magic... His strength is abnormal. So what's... with this kid?!'

The blade began to shine, in pure, beautiful starlight. Its light was blinding, yet idyllic. As for the next attack, Alexander swung the sword downward. Belphegor's lower leg had slid off with a single swipe.

Belphegor fell to his knee, struggling to stay upright. He couldn't attack; Without a weapon, he was useless up close. At this range, he couldn't effectively use his spells.

Barely managing to stand with his one leg, all he could do was gaze up at the black-haired boy as he readied another attack.

The color from Alexander's eyes had faded, becoming pure white light shining amidst the darkness of this world.

Belphegor finally realized that feeling that had been poking in his gut throughout this battle. The feeling had barely felt in his pitifully long existence. Fear.

As a demon, he hadn't felt such a thing in centuries, no, millennia. Yet, around this human, a child, fear was all he felt. He began to shake, tremble, from this emotion. It was then when he muttered...

"I am a Prince of Hell. I can grant you anything- Anything you want. Wealth, power, anything. Just let me live. Whatever you want, I'll give it to you, just let me live," he told him, pleading, begging.

Alexander smirked, his glowing eyes gazing down at Belphegor. "Anything?" he asked. "You'll give me anything I want?"

"Of course. Just spare me."

"Alright, then," he replied, lowering the sword.

Belphegor grinned.

Alexander's face turned serious, as his tone shifted. "Then kneel."

"Huh?"

Alexander raised the sword above his head. Belphegor suddenly dropped to his singular knee. Alexander smiled as his eyes met Belphegor's. They were tinged with fear and some kind of sorrowful anger. "Right now... I'm just thankful to you," he said.

He brought down the blade, cleaving the demon's body in half.

It was an unsightly scene, but a scene of victory nonetheless. Belphegor has been killed; His energy, his life itself, began to fade away into nothingness. He couldn't remain materialized. His body shifted, beginning to fade. Fade to dush and ash.

"The demon... has been cleaved in two," Alexander muttered, with a wide grin on his face.

Alexander dug Excalibur into the ground. 'I... won.' His body began to feel light, as if gravity itself no longer restricted him. "What the hell?..." he mumbled, his consciousness beginning to slip away, his body going limp.

"Cleaved in two," Gabriel muttered.

Anastasia, Gabriel, and Leonard rushed over to Alexander.

"Is he unconscious? Heal him!"

Leonard paused. "Why are you telling me? I can't heal people! And he's not even hurt! He's perfectly fine!"

"Then why has he started convulsing?!"

"I... I don't know!"

The darkness that had enclosed them began to shake. Dissipate. The walls of black began to fade away, as the Enclosed World disappeared. They all stood close to each other as the stark white walls reappeared as their surroundings.

Lumiel and Giovanna were already waiting in that glowing corridor when the world collapsed.

"What the hell was that?"

"Was that an Enclosed World?"

"What happened to you guys?!"

And more overlapped questions echoed in the hallway. Anastasia turned to Lumiel, her eyes watering in confused fear.

Lumeil swallowed her saliva as soon as she saw Alexander. "What's happening to him?"

Anastasia quickly spun to Lumiel, her face distressed. "I don't know! Is he dying or something?"

"No," Lumiel said, her eyes widening. She crouched down beside Alexander. "His magic energy... It's swelling up!"

"What the hell does that mean?"

Alexander's body grew still.

"Is he dead?"

"For- for some reason... His magic energy was sealed. And now... Now, that seal is broken."

"...What?"

"Can you fix him or something?"

Lumiel paused. "I... I don't think I can do anything."

Alexander suddenly shot upward, his breaths labored as he clenched his heart. "What the hell just happened?" he mumbled.

Anastasia and Lumiel both spat out sighs of relief.

"You almost died," Lumiel informed him.

"Hmm... Cool."

Alexander smiled, before turning his head at Gabriel as the latter grabbed Excalibur from the ground, putting back into its sheath.

"Alright," Lumiel said, staring at Anastasia's bleeding shoulder. "Let's heal you guys up. You too, Gabriel. Stop acting tough before you pass out from a concussion or blood loss or something."

Gabriel sighed, running his fingers through his hair. His stale eyes were fixated on the floor as his back slid down the wall to sit. "Fine," he coldly uttered.

Leonard smiled, falling to the concrete floor. 'This kid, Alexander... He barely knows magic, but he uses Excalibur, kills a demon, and almost dies in the process. And now, he just laughs it off? He's insane.'

"He's insane," he said aloud, chuckling to himself. "All of this is."