Chernobog
The possessed Draco dragged her sword towards him, the air around her becoming so hot Y/n started having trouble breathing, hit lungs becoming deprived of air. She stopped a few meters across him, showing a relax body language to wordlessly tell him that she wanted to chat.
Pride: Been a while, hasn't it?
Y/n: Is that what you want as your last words?
He didn't take her offer to talk seriously one bit, raising his sword made from pieces of asphalt and cement. Pride drove her sword into the ground and raised her hands.
Pride: Woah there. I feel like we can have a compromise here? I give you the general locations of where the other four sins are hiding, and you let me go, how about that?
Y/n: We've fought multiple time, do you seriously expect me to believe a single word you say? You. Die. Tonight.
Hearing his response, Pride didn't frown. No, he smirked instead, claw-like flames swiped at her surroundings.
Pride: Pffft! Let's be real here-
Y/n moved to the side to dodge a burst of hot, white flames, it burned his hair and a small part of his eyelashes. He looked in surprise, as Pride took the sword from out the ground and walked towards him, sending massive blasts of fire with each step.
Pride: You're useless without that sword of yours.
Y/n used his sword to block the fire. But resembling a sharp knife, it cut through the cement blade like it was nothing. The fake Sankta found himself running around to avoid being burnt to a crisp, all while Pride slowly pursues him with a giant blade in hand.
Out of desperation, Y/n threw white rocks at him, where the possessed Draco would send flames to remove, but instead it popped into loud and bright sparks that it blinded him for a moment. That moment giving Y/n enough time to manoeuvre behind Pride with Azeth's Phantasms.
Pride: Ah, how is Azeth? Still having childish delusions about him?
Y/n: What?
His words made him hesitate, costing him a chance to subdue Pride. Giving the sin the moment of surprise as he swung his sword behind him.
But instead of a hit, a shield made from the Sankta wings on his back blocked the hit. A female voice scolded Y/n as he quickly moved farther away.
"Focus! The enemy is right in front of you, this is no time for the likes of dilly-dallying!"
Y/n: Right... How's Azeth?
"Are you actually serious-. Ugh, he's fading in and out, I've never seen this phenomenon before so I have no knowledge of any remedies available."
He might have an idea of what was happening. With the time he spent while Azeth took control of his body, Y/n revisited many of his childhood memories that he wanted to badly to forget, most of them changing into scenarios where Azeth wasn't a real person, but an imaginary figure conjured by a younger Y/n instead.
The imaginary brother that became so real that Y/n started to treat him like a real person too, asking that another plate of food be prepared for him, or that they should install a bunk for him to sleep in, even buying separate clothes for a person that doesn't exist. And at one point, Azeth became his scapegoat, a convenient excuse to shove all his blames no matter how important or petty it was.
But the question Y/n had was: If Azeth didn't exist then, why now? Was it another one of his hallucinations? It couldn't be, the Phantasms was an ability unique to Azeth, and just until recently Y/n had started controlling it.
YOU ARE READING
Scorched Twilight
隨機Revenge is a long and arduous journey, and Y/n knows he isn't even halfway there. His search for the third of seven individuals continues, in a completely unfamiliar and harsh world to even its own native inhabitants. He got attached to them in a bl...
