Level Up Legacy

Nightmare unleashed a fierce cry, propelling the angel across the battlefield toward its summoner. The colossal wings beat forcefully, resisting decelerating the airborne celestial being. As the ethereal creature soared through the air, the stunning woman’s eyes locked onto the dagger-wielder, displaying a mixture of fear and awe. 

“How… is this possible?” stammered the devout warrior, a tremor of fear coursing through his veins, causing him to retreat involuntarily, his grasp on the sword slackening. “How can a mere mortal truly defy an angel of divine retribution?”

  Arthur, his movements deft and precise, dismissed the feeble power of the angel with a flick of his dagger, slicing through the air with mesmerizing speed. The blade, aptly named Nightmare, held an ominous reputation for a reason.

“You deceived us!” the devout man bellowed, his voice dripping with anger as he tightened his grip on the sword, his rage seething. “That weapon was bestowed upon you by the malevolent demon! It embodies nothing but unholy darkness!” 

“I can embody darkness or radiate light, yet it matters not to one consumed by their self-righteousness,” Arthur retorted, his voice laced with a blend of defiance and resignation. “I could assume the very mantle of the deity you worship, and still, you would brand me a malevolent fiend.”

“Never would a god stoop to steal the powers of an angel!” the man thundered, raising his weapon and charging forward. “I shall personally vanquish you, demon! Your petty deceptions hold no sway over my blessed sword!”

Arthur sighed wearily, acknowledging the absence of fear in the hearts of blind people. Once more, he raised his weapon, prepared for the impending clash. Suddenly, a thunderous roar echoed from behind him, signaling the commencement of the demon’s battle. “I am left with little time to persuade you, warrior,” Arthur declared, a touch of resignation coloring his words. “Let us unleash our full might.”

Arthur hoisted his dagger high into the heavens with a determined gaze, fixating on its foreboding gleam. The bond he shared with this weapon seemed to pulse with a restless yearning for liberation. A smile crept across his face as he realized that his dagger yearned for more than he had imagined.

“Roar, Nightmare!” Arthur commanded, his voice infused with a potent mix of authority and anticipation.

His dagger served as a conduit, harnessing the raw power of his black lightning, causing it to crackle and surge into the blade. The atmosphere crackled with electric energy as obsidian lightning crashed upon the earth, emanating a fiery crimson glow. Arthur stood in awe, captivated by the unfolding spectacle, his heart brimming with anticipation for his blade’s untapped potential.

A primal growl reverberated through the dense forest as the blade in Arthur’s hand yearned for liberation. He could sense its relentless struggle, surging with unbridled energy that demanded release.

The once colorless lightning now bore a captivating crimson hue, crackling through the air with heightened ferocity. The dagger appeared to be the center of this electrifying display, unleashing the lightning without discrimination. Yet, despite the ominous spectacle that unfolded before him, the resolute holy warrior remained undeterred. 

“Come to my aid, angel!” the warrior beckoned, his voice resolute as his summoned creature hastened toward Arthur’s position. Observing the convergence of the two forces, Arthur’s grip on his dagger tightened, accompanied by a somber shake of his head.

“It pains me… to shatter such unwavering resolve,” Arthur murmured, his voice carrying a tinge of melancholy.

The warrior and his angelic companion closed in from both sides, launching a coordinated assault. Undeterred, Arthur stood steadfast amidst the onslaught, wielding his lightning-infused dagger with unwavering resolve. Every movement he made seemed to animate the very fabric of the forest, causing it to ripple and shift in response to his actions as he clashed against the formidable duo.

A blinding surge of radiance erupted from their clash, but the dagger deflected the holy light, redirecting its impact to the surroundings. The sacred brilliance proved futile against Nightmare and its master, who remained unscathed. Instead, the blade resonated with an intensified ferocity, unleashing a surge of black lightning that shrouded the entire forest. 

***

The crackling black lightning enveloped the forest, obscuring Seraphine’s vision and rendering the warlord hidden. Yet, she could feel the familiar surge coursing through her veins—the same lightning that had unraveled the curse of her ancestors. Now, she stood amidst its electrifying presence, witnessing its raw power firsthand.

Curiously, the lightning wielded no harm to her or the humans surrounding her. Even those struck by its charged tendrils appeared unharmed, their bewildered expressions evidence of their confusion. But for Seraphine, it stirred a deep nostalgia reminiscent of a place she once called home.

“Nay, this is not home,” Seraphine murmured, her gaze shifting back toward the wielder of the lightning. “This is… the origin.”

A bellowing roar shattered the air as the warlord launched his attack, revealing a colossal fist hurtling toward her. Despite the blinding presence of the black lightning, it proved incapable of halting the warlord’s unyielding assault, underscoring his determination.

“Though I find you repugnant, I must commend your audacity, human,” Seraphine declared, her scarlet eyes blazing again. The transformation extended further, a curved black tattoo weaving across her face. “Yet, it is courage that begets death.”

With a swift turn, Seraphine directed her attention towards the warlord, her outstretched hand effortlessly halting the colossal fist in its tracks. As her delicate fingers made contact, a network of intricate cobwebs materialized across the ground, causing her feet to sink ever so slightly. She obliterated the once-mighty fist with a mere flick of her wrist, reducing it to nothing but a fleeting memory.

“Is this truly what motivated you to challenge me, human?” the demon queried, her voice tinged with disappointment. As the black lightning gradually dissipated, it unveiled the visage of the enraged warlord. “Surely, you cannot be this foolish?”

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“Are you speaking of the hero?” Seraphine inquired, a wide, wicked smile stretching across her face. “Did he lure you here with promises of my demise and blood? Have you witnessed the supposed might of his sword and deemed it enough to slay me?”

“It is!” Vesper shouted, flinging his arm forward, only to be met with Seraphine’s laughter. “What’s so amusing, demon?” he demanded, his features contorting in confusion.

Seraphine’s laughter subsided, replaced by a calm demeanor as she spoke. “Though you rely greatly on your holy powers, it seems you fail to perceive them,” she stated. “That holy warrior bestowed blessings upon the entire forest earlier, but can you still sense the divine power lingering within this place?”

The warlord regarded her with bewilderment before his gaze snapped toward the source of the crackling lightning that blanketed the forest. Though the lightning still coiled and writhed like serpents, the aftermath of the preceding battle became evident.

The billowing black robes caught the wind as the man clutched his dagger, a smile gracing his lips. The ground before him had been rent asunder, a deep chasm stretching countless meters with the holy warrior at its end. His armor lay torn in two, revealing a grievous wound as the warrior clung to his shattered sword.

The warrior’s voice choked with disbelief as he gazed upon his once divine blade, now severed and devoid of its former radiance. Tears welled in his eyes as he mourned his irreplaceable loss while the angel accompanying him faded away, its celestial hymns fading into oblivion. “How… how could my sword… be defeated?” he whispered, his voice filled with disbelief.

“Impossible…” Vesper muttered, his expression shaken as he fixed his gaze upon the fallen warrior. “Bartholomew, defeated by a mere novice? And his blessed sword, shattered? How can the powers of demons lay waste to the possessions of gods?”

“You diminish his power by labeling it demonic,” Seraphine interjected, her gaze steady as she regarded Vesper with a knowing smile. “After witnessing his consumption of divine powers, he has proven himself neither demon nor god.”

“Demon or god?” Vesper murmured, shaking his head and grinding his teeth in frustration. “Even after losing countless men, I shall not retreat here! Even if it costs me my life, I shall taste your blood!”

Seraphine’s smile widened as she raised her hand, causing a ring of blood to form around her palm. “I must admit, I have never encountered a man so relentlessly devoted,” she remarked, her tone laced with playful amusement. “I might just blush.”

“Eliminate her!” Vesper’s voice thundered as he clenched his fists together, conjuring a colossal ethereal giant behind him. The towering figure mirrored his form, exuding an even greater strength. “Those who spill her blood shall be rewarded!”

Driven by the allure of boundless power, the army surged towards Seraphine, their mouths watering at the tantalizing promise. The circle of blood expanded around her, encircling her in a crimson embrace as she met their approach with unwavering scarlet eyes.

“Are these the people you sought to protect, Arthur?” the demon whispered, her voice laced with melancholy.