Rise, Ye Tarnished [DxD/Elden Ring] Ch 4

The walk back home was quiet. The streets were calm, the odd neighbor waved them hello, and the weekend atmosphere helped calm Issei’s head. Motohama’s pen scratching and mutterings merely added to the background noise.

“A Confessor build is more versatile than a Prophet. That opens up a lot of avenues depending on the weapon and incantation class. What level did you say you were?”

“45.”

“Hmm. A higher level than normal to beat Godrick. Most players beat him at 35, and I only needed level 29.” Issei mock-glared at his friend, who promptly ignored him. He was pretty sure the words ‘feeble casual’ were listed in the depths of that notebook. “Then again, if you wanted to keep your build at a balanced setting while utilizing Black Flame and the Godslayer’s Seal without a debuff, then a high Faith stat would push your overall level. I’ll need to check the rest of your stats, but depending on which one’s higher, we can plan accordingly. You can use the Grafted Dragon, so I’d bet Strength. Heavy weapons aren’t your playstyle from what I remember, so you should avoid Greathammers and Colossal Swords. In terms of long-range options, we won’t have to invest in bows, but some throwing daggers are always handy.”

“I bought some throwing daggers from the merchant at the Church,” Said merchant’s name soon popped into Issei’s head. “Kalé. I didn’t find a good opportunity to use them; they barely deal any damage.”

“This might just be me projecting, but in a real fight, a dagger to the face is a neat distraction. Oh, what are your talismans?”

“The Scarseal from the Weeping Peninsula and the…” Issei trailed off, trying to remember the name. “The Kusanagi with the blue tail. Y’know, the one you find early in Stormveil before you actually enter the castle?”

“Radagon’s Scarseal and…the Blue-feathered Branchsword?” Motohama asked. At Issei’s nod, he trembled and made a disgusted face. “Ugh, the aura of newbness is so strong it wafts off you with the stench of a sewer.”

“Oi, the hell that’s supposed to mean!?” Issei hollered with indignation. 

“Just commenting on how your build is a patchwork ready to fall at the slightest i-frame miss.”

“Screw you, munchkin! Not everyone needs a spreadsheet to suck the joy out of their game! My build’s carried me fine so far. and I’ll find plenty of new items down the line!”

“If you ever get that far. If it took you so long to beat Godrick, then I fear the lobsters of Liurnia will shoot you down before you can even cross the lake.”

Issei huffed as he kept up his glare. So what if he didn’t min-max his build? He paid attention to the stats whenever he leveled up, but that was it! He had too much fun playing the game to care otherwise. Motohama noticed and huffed his nose in the air like some stuck-up bocchan.

Fortunately, their stare-off broke into good-natured chuckles.

“Cheer up, Hyoudou, we’ll make a proper Tarnished of you yet,” he reached over and pulled Issei into a headlock. “With the right stats and gear, you’ll make every chuuni on this planet proud! If more monsters like that bastard exist, you’ll kick their asses and the ladies will swoon! And then, we’ll find a way to make me and Matsuda Tarnished as well. The Harem King dream is within our grasp, my friend!”

Elation rose in Issei’s heart as his teenage mind conjured the women and the bountiful Oppai they’d bear cheer his name. Hugging him close, whispering sweet nothings in his ear, smothering him with their golden globes, handholding, clothes falling off…

“I can see it…” he whispered. “The land of dreams…is it really within our grasp?”

Motohama sniffed and swept his arm in an arc. “The world is our oyster, my brother. No longer will we be objects of ridicule and disgust! Our joyful springtime of youth has only begun its dawn! We will level you up into a true legend! For glory, for mankind, for Oppai!”

“FOR OPPAI!”

Their cheers echoed down the street, frightening some poor birds minding their own business and scattering them along the southerly winds. A passing old lady went bug-eyed from across the sidewalk and hurried along, muttering curses and laments about the youth of today. As for the boys themselves? What could they do but cheer and bask in the warm afternoon sun, dreaming of the endless beauties rushing up to admire and fawn over them. 

“It’s more beautiful than I ever imagined…” Issei sniffed. 

Motohama sagely nodded and wiped a tear from his glasses. “No magazine, doujin, or anime can compare.” He then patted Issei with mock-condescension on the head. “Alas, it appears the secret garden will be a journey of a thousand miles. Your lacklustre gaming skills impede you every step of the way. If you only had the grace of legends like GiantDad, then we’d be swimming in booty by the weekend.”

“Oi, buzz off!” he cried out, escaping Motohama’s headlock. “Prodigies like GiantDad appear once in a generation; you can’t compare anyone to him! Stop dissing my build, at least I look awesome and I’m not one of those joke builds, like the naked guy wearing a jar as a helmet.”

“The Confessor robes are some of the better-looking armor pieces in the game, I’ll give you that much,” Motohama conceded, before another manic spark gleamed in his eye. “Wait, we forgot to test if you can summon armor!” He snapped to attention with his pen at the ready, only for Issei to wave his hands in front of him.

“Not now!” he hissed, eyeballing the street. “We’ve done a lot today and I’d rather not test out my powers in public!”

Motohama tisked and withheld a curse. “Good point. Okay, that’ll be the first thing we test after school tomorrow.”

The two nodded and resumed their walk, with the forest slowly thinning behind them, giving way to residential buildings. The walk to the clearing was farther than Issei had anticipated, but he chalked it up to another secrecy advantage in their favor. Next time, he’d bring a bicycle.

He shook his head and stepped forward when a twinge of pain went up his arm, causing him to wince and grasp it. Motohama, ever the observant friend, took immediate notice and rushed to his side. 

“Everything alright?”

“Y-yeah, I’m fine,” Issei said, trying to sound reassuring through his trembling. “Just nerves, that’s all.”

“Dude, you’re a genius at finding hiding spots at school, but shitty at lying. Matsuda and your parents will find out this secret sooner than you can say ‘git gud,’” Motohama joked, though his gaze focused on Issei’s arm. “Is your arm still hurting? I guess magical healing isn’t an all-cure.”

“I guess so. Game devs and anime writers don’t focus too much on that part, so we don’t have a way to compare,” he replied, clenching his arm. Staring at it, the thought that he could summon the Elden Ring equivalent of a magic wand sent an odd feeling rippling down his chest, neither negative nor positive.  “At least we know never to hold a spell in place for too long.”

“Mmm-hmm. Some games actually have that mechanic, but not in Elden Ring; the spell is automatically activated if you charge it for too long, so I don’t know why the Black Flame exploded like that in your hand.” Motohama jotted down another note. “I’ll have to write up a new folder on story and gameplay segregation if this keeps up.”

“I think we should’ve expected this,” Issei said, checking his arm once the phantom pain vanished. “We used to argue our heads off on how spells from games and TV would and wouldn’t work in real life.”

“Yeah, but none of us were actually serious,” Motohama countered. “At best, it was a thought experiment disguised as an anime dick-measuring contest. The kami have a black sense of humor.”

“If they’re laughing, I don’t get the joke.” Issei stared at his palm and the same odd sensation returned. “Don’t get me wrong, I was geeking out every minute I realized I could cast magic in real life, but nothing makes sense here. The devil bastard existing means there was already magic and other weird shit out in the world, which I’m guessing most people don’t know about. But of all the people for weird shit to happen to, why me? And why Elden Ring magic of all things?”

It was absurd on every level, though the concept wasn’t totally out of the blue for him. Gamified magic systems were a trope in light novels, even if the setting wasn’t an actual video game. Those settings shared similar patterns, and most of them were fairly generic in terms of layout and worldbuilding. But for a system to copy a recently-released game and carry quirks like not seeing a status menu? Issei freely admitted he wasn’t exactly a genius, but even he could tell that something about the situation wasn’t adding up.

Motohama huffed and scratched his head, a frown flickering on his face. “Asking the hardball questions, eh? I’m just as clueless as you are, dude. It does smell fishy, I admit it. But unless a fairy or a travel companion suddenly appears and explains everything, it’ll be up to us to find the answers.”

“And how are we supposed to do that?”

“Beats me.”

Hearing those words from Motohama wasn’t reassuring in the slightest, but in the end, all Issei could do was sigh and pull himself together. “Welp, here’s to hoping things will clear up soon.”

Motohama did an impression of raising a can for a toast. “We can drink to that at least. You got any soda back home?”

“If Mom hasn’t thrown Dad’s stash out.”

Continuing their trek to Issei’s house, the teens’ previous cheer air grew subdued. Issei frowned at his friend’s contemplative humming and slightly somber look, a far cry from his usual self.

‘Come on, Issei! ‘ he chided himself. ‘It’s like Motohama said, you can cast magic! The greatest opportunity a guy could have! You should be spouting off all the crazy fantasies you dreamed of as a kid that you want to come to life!’

But he didn’t. Not simply because no idea came to his mind, but because the uneasy churn refused to go away, no matter how much he willed it to.

Then, right as they approached the crossroads, a strange scent wafted into Issei’s nostrils. 

“Hey, you smell that?”

Motohama stopped and looked at him strangely before sniffing the air. “Yeah, it’s kinda sweet…reminds me of honey mochi…also roasted nuts? Is there a candy store nearby?”

“Maybe a new one opened up?”

A sudden grumbling from Issei’s stomach cut them short, causing his cheeks to flush briefly. The two friends stared at each other before coming to a single, inevitable conclusion:

“I’ve got pocket change.”

“I’ll repay you tomorrow.”

With that, they dashed in the direction of the tantalizing scent, away from their planned route. Treating himself to a sweet after that workout sounded extremely appealing to Issei. Come to think of it, he didn’t notice how hungry he was. 

‘I ate plenty before we left, though. Another thing to pile up on today’s weird things list.’

They ran through the streets, following the growing aroma, until they came to a stop in front of a large warehouse facing the outskirts of the forests. The smell was so strong it hung over them like a mist. Issei couldn’t stop his drooling as visions of delicious candy filled his brain. All he had to do was go through the unlocked door -

sniff

It was brief. So fleeting, in fact, that Issei of a week ago wouldn’t have thought much of it. Just another odd fragrance infused with the aroma of sweets.

But Issei of yesterday?

‘…I know that smell.’

It was impossible to forget. 

Especially when he’d been bathed in it.

He grabbed Motohama by the collar and jerked him away from the building, causing him to yelp. 

“Wha-what was that for!?” he yelled.

“Don’t you think this is a little bit suspicious?” Issei hissed, gesturing at the building. “A giant warehouse, away from the main streets, with no one around? And don’t you smell the other thing besides the food?”

Motohama blinked and took a long look at the warehouse. It didn’t scream candy factory, not with peeling walls and a broken, rusted padlock at the doorstep. 

“What other thing?” the bespectacled boy asked, a tremor in his voice.

“Copper. You know what else smells like copper?”

Motohama pursed his lips, which made Issei think he’d brush it off, and he’d have to drag his friend away. Fortunately, his face rapidly grew pale. “Oh shit.”

Issei released the shirt collar and began to back away. “I think we can call the cops now. I don’t wanna find out what’s inside.”

“Way ahead of you,” Motohama replied, matching Issei’s footsteps in tandem. He reached for his phone and was about to pull it out of his pocket-

“Oh, how rude. After I went through all this trouble to set this little welcome up for you.”

The door exploded. 

“GET DOWN!”

Without a second thought, Issei grabbed Motohama and pulled him down to the ground, narrowly missing the hunk of metal that flew over their heads. A crash rang out behind them, and Issei gulped when he saw the broken remnants of trees where the door flew and crashed into them. The door itself? Out of sight. The scraping of steel snapped his attention away, and the coppery odor multiplied tenfold. Pitch-black claws grasped the top of the entrance and tore it open with an ear-rending shriek, revealing glowing red eyes staring directly at the teens - all five of them; two pairs on each side and one lone eye in its forehead.

The final shred of metal guarding them from the monster fell to another swipe of those claws. Motohama whimpered as two insectoid legs reached out from the darkness and impaled the sidewalk. With a raspy groan, the monster walked - skittered, whatever it did - into the sunlight and gave them a wicked smile, dropping with blood and filled with rotten canines.

It was vaguely human, at least in shape. Covered in swampish scales and gleaming with sweat, it towered two heads above them, even higher considering the legs that propped it up. A mane of hair white as bone fell from behind the two curved horns that adorned its head. Its feet resembled a bird’s, complete with yellowish scales and wicked talons, only sleeker in shape. When it puffed up its chest, Issei received an eyeful of its nonexistent crotch and the -

“Six…six…six boobs?” he heard his friend utter. “D’s and G’s…no…bigger?”

All Issei could do was nod. Six melon-sized, oily globes, pairs stacked atop each other thrice, each one glistening with purple sweat and only a dull scale covering their nipples.

“Don’t you know it's rude to stare?” the monster asked, every syllable dripping from its mouth a vicious taunt. It sounded like a woman, but its echo was far deeper than any girl Issei had heard before. “But I cannot blame you. It will be the last sight you shall ever see, so there is no harm in…indulgence~’

The way it drew out the last word sent shivers up Issei’s spine, breaking him from the boob stack’s hypnotic sway. 

“What the hell is that?” he whispered. To his great dismay, the creature instantly zeroed in on him, slitted pupils narrowing against those baleful red eyes. 

“So you’re the source of that delightful scent…” A long, purple tongue licked the underside of its clammy lips. “To think that you are nothing but a mere child…I’m almost ashamed.” It then traced a finger on its breasts - ‘don’t stare!’ - and held up a drop of purple sweat. “No wonder you came rushing in without a second thought. Most mortals would hesitate at first once my lure hooks them, but children tend to come running blindly.”

Issei paled as he screamed at his body to move. What did it mean by scent? Was it spying on them? And from what it was saying, was it the reason for the candy smell?

‘I still smell it,’ he winced, his nose wrinkling. ‘But everything else…gross.’

The monster’s middle eye darted to Motohama, who was reaching for his phone, and it wagged a clawed finger.

“I wouldn’t do that, little bug. Open your eyes and ears and take a good look around.”

Issei raised his head and saw that a blue shimmer had colored the sky, muting the sun. The chirping of birds and insects had vanished as well. Currently, only the sound of his rampant heartbeat, Motohama’s squeaky gasps and the monster’s teeth-grinding breathing scraped his eardrums. 

“What did you d-do?” Issei asked, raising his voice as high as he could. Any higher and he’d be squeaking. The monster idly waved its finger in a circle.

“A little parlor trick to ensure my meal isn’t interrupted. Communication circles and mortal technology are useless here, so your friend’s toy won’t be of much help.” Motohama nearly dropped his phone at the proclamation. “Rather garish for short-notice work, but I’ll be done long before any overseer takes notice. Pesky devil pillars and their anal-retentive attitude, always sniffing around every speck of dust in their territory.”

Amidst the terror gripping him, one word stood out to the brown-haired teen. “Wait…devil? You’re a devil?” 

The monster’s eyes blinked in unison and the corners of its grinning lips twitched. “Oh, so you aren’t some ignorant mouse. Peculiar, you don’t strike me as the knowledgeable type.”

Issei gulped and slowly clambered to his feet. “I met one of your kind the other day. Didn’t make a great impression.”

The monster tilted its head, its eyes briefly narrowing at him. Before Issei could react, it threw its head backward, and a bark of grating laughter escaped from its throat.

“HAHA! A fledgling! After so long, this is truly my lucky day!” Issei fought against his trembling legs as the monster lowered its head and flexed its claws. A rustle was heard, and two large, batlike wings sprouted from behind its back. “To answer your question, boy, I am indeed a devil. Once, I was great. I fought legions that shook the earth, feasted on succulent flesh, free to do as I wished, only to be cast out like garbage! Devolved and mutated into this wretched form!” It clenched its teeth as its body shook. “But even to a castaway like myself, all mortals are nothing but prey. For so long, I was forced to resort to eating beggars and drug-addled minnows just to sustain my powers. Do you know what it’s like, to gnaw on every bone and ounce of flesh so you can last just a little longer!?”

Rage slipped into the devil’s voice as its insectoid legs stomped. As it ranted, a heated roil swirled in Issei’s gut. His fists clenched tight as the monster’s wrath-filled rant stopped and the wicked grin returned.

“But it doesn’t matter anymore. Your magic is strong, far better than any magician I’ve ripped apart! You shall be my finest meal, and I will starve no longer! Take comfort that in your death, your meaningless life will renew mine!”

In a sudden whiplash, it cradled its cheek, and its face was touched by an almost impish expression.

“The worm next to you will provide a nice dessert. As mercy, I shall endeavor to be quick. Too much fear hardens the meat, after all.”

…

…oh, so that’s what it was.

“At least die knowing that your insignificant life served the noble calling of your betters. Consider it a small token of my generosity.”

It was like before, waiting for death in that dark alley. He was afraid back then as well. But amidst the fear and the impending doom, one sensation stood out. He’d never really felt it before. Never had a reason. But now? When that devil, that monster, threatened his friend?

It was volcanic.

The long-held breath in Issei’s throat was finally released. Not a chance.

“I-If you think I’m gonna stand here and let you eat me, you’ve got another thing coming, you six-boobed freak!” he cried out, even as his legs threatened to give out under him.

The devil, however, merely smiled in amusement. 

“And how do you intend to stop me, exactly? You are no mortal champion. Your magic is raw and powerful, but I know the traits of a novice. I bet you can barely break a twig with those arms.” It lowered itself to the ground and stamped on the asphalt, leaving a foot-shaped crater in its wake. “Cease your bravado and hold still. My scent can be rather pleasing; I guarantee your end will be swift and painless, minor discomforts excluded.”

His first thought was to run. To invoke the Joestar Secret Technique, grab Motohama, and hightail it away from the monster. 

‘Yeah, that’d never work. I’d die before I could even blink.’

That left only one option. 

Rise, ye Tarnished.

Set forth, and conquer.

“I don’t have all day, human. Don’t shame my courtesy.”

A nervous smile crept up on Issei as he settled into a guarded stance, with one arm behind his back. What came out of his mouth was fueled by nothing short of false confidence and empty prayer. “You know, before we do anything, I just want to say that your boobs are magnificent. Six pairs? Man, if it wasn’t for…everything else…I’d love to motorboat those puppies.”

The monster blinked, utterly confounded. Even Motohama gaped at him with a twitching eye.

“Is… Is that supposed to flatter me?”

“No.” His hand gripped the heavy object. “But maybe this will.”

“What do you-”

A howling spiral of wind flew from Issei’s sword swing toward the devil. It barely had time to raise an arm before the attack tore at its skin, scattering black blood across the pavement. Not allowing it a chance to recover, Issei sent another Storm Blade careening toward the devil.

He turned to Motohama. “RUN, YOU IDIOT!”

The boy screamed and scrambled away into the treeline. The Ash of War skill struck the devil again, eliciting a pained hiss as it lightly buckled from the force of the attack. Staring at its bloodied arm, the monster snapped its gaze toward Issei and narrowed its eyes at the broadsword that appeared from seemingly nowhere. Issei flinched as its second pair of eyes honed in on the Seal tied to his other hand.

Issei tried to form a grin, only for it to vanish as the sharp cracking of knuckles rang amidst the wind.

“So the rodent can bite,” the devil hissed, red eyes flashing red. “If you wish to spit upon my courtesy, very well. As they say, the harder you work on a meal…

It puffed out its chest and unsheathed its talons.

“The better it tastes!”

Every instinct screaming at him, Issei threw himself to the side just as an insect leg skewered the spot where he stood. Picking himself up, he saw the leg snap up and fly toward him. With a grunt, he raised his left arm, and the Brass Shield snapped into existence, blocking the incoming attack. 

Or at least, the sharp end.

‘Holy fuck!’ Issei mentally screamed, stumbling backward and righting himself up. Looking at his shield, relief swept through him as it remained intact, save for a scar on the ornamentation. ‘This is one sturdy shield. My arm hurts like a bitch though.’

He barely had time to dwell upon it further, however, when another leg pierced the air. Twisting himself, he let the blow glance off his shield and swung at the overextended appendage. The broadsword sliced at the greenish limb, causing the devil to hiss and back away. Issei gripped the sword and sent another Storm Blade at the limb.

The sharpened wind spiral carved through chitin and muscle, provoking another cry of pain from the monster. With his heart beating faster than a speeding racecar, Issei sprinted toward the stunned limb and swung.

“AAARRGGH!”

The leg plopped to the road, severed from the limb. All that connected it was a stump dripping with black blood.

“MY LEG!” The devil howled in pain and bared its fangs to the youth. “You little turd! You think some cheap weapon-swapping is going to stop me!?”

“It cut off your leg, didn’t it?” Issei retorted, his muscles throbbing at their exertion. 

The devil bellowed and leapt forward, fangs bared and the promise of agony on its lips. Raising his shield high, Issei recoiled as the razor-sharp claws raked against the metal. A blow came from below, ready to tear his stomach open, but Issei forced himself down and sent a mental pulse to the shield. In an instant, the shield glowed white and the second blow harmlessly bounced off it. A kick that should’ve sent him flying instead only pushed him back a foot, and he didn’t miss how the devil winced after that blow. The remaining arthropod leg came down from above, and Issei sidestepped as it impaled the air right next to him.

‘Now!’

The sword swung. A storm roared. Another limb…reduced to ribbons.

“AAAAARRRRGGHHHH!” The devil stumbled back, the force of the Skill overpowering its resilient body. Once it righted itself, it stood dumbstruck for a few seconds at the sight of its stumped appendages. Issei himself couldn’t believe the sight either.

‘I actually did that?’

Filled with disbelief and slight giddiness, the boy couldn’t help what came next.

“Uh, you don’t have much of a leg to stand on, so why don’t you beat it?”

Five red eyes locked onto his form, freezing him in place from their sheer intensity. The snarl reverberating from the devil’s trembling form felt like an approaching bulldozer. Clawed hands curled into fists, filled with promises of endless suffering.

“...that’s it. My wretched master? Fine. I can wait. The overseers? Fine. A temporary obstacle. But you? Some half-formed amoeba that thinks he’s dangerous because of a little stinger with paltry wind magic?” 

One burst of speed later, Issei found himself standing face-to-face with the monster, pure wrath exuding from every fibre of its being.

“Know your place.”

The slap came out of nowhere, and it was only thanks to his shield that Issei’s stomach didn’t cave in. The shock of the blow, however, was way stronger than anything he’d endured before, sending him tumbling down the street. Cursing at the numbness running through his body, Issei scrambled to his feet even as his body protested. But when he tried to grip his sword - 

‘Damn it!’ 

His eyes widened as he stared at the weapon, lying on the asphalt far away from him.

‘Don’t panic, Issei, you’ve still got this!’ he thought, biting his lip. ‘You just need to grab it before-’

A sharp kick punted the sword into the green, and Issei’s stomach fell as he stared at the angry devil.

‘That happens.’

Another burst, and he found himself hauled up by the neck, gazing into the eyes of the monster. From a distance, even with their creepiness, they looked somewhat human. But up close and personal, they were anything but. Rimmed with green and bloodshot sclerae, their swirling red irises converged into a slit blacker than black, radiating with hatred and wrath Issei hadn’t thought possible. Not for a human.

“Not so tough without your prick, are you, boy?” it spat and began to squeeze, cutting off Issei’s breath. “Now do me a fucking favor and die quietly.”

Issei gasped as he felt his breath cut off, watching as the devil opened his mouth and closed in, ready to bite his whole head off. Its tongue slithered and wriggled, waiting to taste its first morsel of flesh.

But there was one fact the devil wasn’t aware of.

‘Fuck…you!’

Issei didn’t need a sword.

“Hm? Wha -”

CRACK!

The devil’s skull heaved sideways as the Grafted Dragon smashed into its side, forcing its grip to slacken and drop the teen. As it roared with pain and shook its head, Issei inhaled and let out a war cry, punching it right in the torso. The dragon’s eyes lit up as fire erupted from its maw, sending the devil lurching backward. Issei panted as air returned to his lungs, watching as the devil groaned and stared at its wounded chest. What was once pristine skin was now marred by a scorched, sizzling scar. 

Seething, the devil glared at Issei, and he braced himself for another fit of rage, only for it to freeze in surprise.

“A Sacred Gear? That was the source of the scent?” 

Again with those words: Sacred Gear. 

‘The other bastard mentioned them like they were something really important, and now this one?’

Against the advice of the voice that told him to shut up and kill the monster, Issei swallowed and asked. “Hey, what’s a Sacred Gear?”

The devil’s eyes narrowed as it entered a guarded stance. 

“So you truly are a fledgling, to be so ignorant of the weapon inside of you. Shame you’ll die in ignorance; you’ll get no answers from me.”

“Not a fan of calling it quits?” Issei asked, opening the dragon’s maw and bending his knees. ‘Please say yes, please say yes!’

“The day I retreat from a human child is the day I rip out my own heart.”

Issei cursed his luck. ‘Is one lucky break too much to ask?’

Clawed hands spread out and a fiery purple aura enveloped the devil. Rearing its head back, Issei braced himself for the worst. ‘Is it gonna breathe fire? Lightning? A supersonic roar that’ll shatter my eardrums?’

With a horrid shriek, the devil belched forth a torrent of acid! 

Panicking, Issei jumped out of the way right as the stream of greenish liquid splattered over, melting the asphalt and leaving deep holes in their wake and the stench of corpses.

‘That is disgusting, and now I never want to use acid as a weapon again. Note to self: Don’t let a drop of that thing touch you!’

The devil didn’t let him ruminate on that thought, because it spewed more acid at the teen. With a yelp, Issei dodged the stream and raised his shield. He charged and the devil took notice, rearing for another acid burst. In a flash of inspiration, he activated Barricade Shield and closed his eyes as the acid splashed all over his shield. The burning odor of rot wafted all over him and drops of acid flew past him, but thankfully, he remained untouched.

“What is this? That’s no magic shield, and my acid burns through enchantments. How is it still intact?”

Instead of replying, Issei cocked back his fist and punched it again in the chest, drawing another howl of pain as fire scorched its body. It seemed to have mentally prepared itself, though, because it leaped back and showered the road with acid. Praying the Barricade Shield would hold, Issei tried to find a path forward amidst the lethal shower, but the road had turned into a cratered mess. 

“Not so tough when you can’t land those exploding punches, aren’t you?” the devil mocked him, its smugness returning. “I’ve never heard of a Sacred Gear like yours. For a moment, I thought it was the Boosted Gear itself, but it seems my worries are unfounded.” It splayed its palms open, revealing holes in each of them, spewing fountains of acid. 

‘Hell, its whole body looks like it's sweating acid!’ Issei thought, unable to lift his gaze. The asphalt around her feet dissolved into steaming nothingness as acid waterfalls cascaded from every sweat gland on her body…including her triple pair of breasts.

‘I don’t know if I should be having a boner or throwing up,’ he felt his face sour as he flexed the dragon’s jaw, hiding behind his shield. ‘But I have to end this or she’ll flood the whole street! If I could only land a punch…without stepping on that acid…’

Another torrent of acid broke his concentration, and he grit his teeth as the raging stream blasted his shield. It parted the acid around him, but a few drops landed on his shirt and clothes, melting holes straight through the fabric and exposing his skin. A choked noise escaped from him, especially when the pale glow around his shield started to fade.

‘Shit, shit, shit!’ he frantically looked around. ‘Come on, there’s gotta be a solution here! Another shield? Shit, no one carries two shields! And I don’t know any defensive spells! If I don’t do something now, my skin will melt!’

Right as images of the acid liquefying his skin filled his head, a golden flash enveloped him and a massive weight was now covering his body. The devil itself paused its attack, tilting its head in curiosity.

“Oh, what’s this?”

All Issei could do was gape at the iron plate covering his arm. ‘I have no fucking clue.’

He was covered from head to toe in black clothing, tinged with smatterings of rust. He still felt his shirt, but the rough feel of leather permeated through the thin fabric. Boots adorned his feet and iron gauntlets covered his hands. A strange skirt encircled his waist, falling to his knees and secured with a belt lined with pouches. A shadow fell over his face, and he tugged the fabric above him to see that a hood had appeared and covered his head, extending down to his chest as a cowl.

‘No way…my Confessor Armor?’ his eyes swept over the armor that his game character adorned since he started playing. It even had the cloak! ‘Motohamma, you are a genius!’

A whoosh pulled him back to reality, and he paled as the devil appeared, inches away from gouging him with its claws. Pivoting as claws scraped his shield, he tried to land another punch, only for the devil to leap back and spray him with more acid. True to his fears, the liquid sizzled as it came into contact with the metal. Thankfully, the stray drops of acid landed on his armor, leaving only singed spots.

‘I can’t get close, not with the bastard acting like a death sprinkler. Punching his lights out isn’t an option…but I don’t need to get in close to knock the smugass grin off its face.’

He stared at the Grafted Dragon as the sizzling crescendoed when an idea came to him. ‘My Seal’s on my left hand, but I need the shield. In the game, I need the menu to swap weapons between hands, but this power isn’t 100% like the game, is it?’

He positioned his right arm behind his back and imagined the Seal in its place. To his relief, the weight on his arm vanished and the familiar sensations of rope and stone rubbed against his fingers. 

‘YES! That’s useful!’ He stared at the devil as searing heat pooled in his left hand. ‘Come on, you ugly bastard…’

The monster raised its palms, ready to spew more acid…right as black flashed.

Heaving, Issei lobbed the charged Black Flame at his opponent, the fireball careening toward the devil at remarkable speed, way faster than he expected. Its eyes widened, and it tried to dodge, but -

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGHHHH!!!!!!!!”

The spell collided with it head-on, coating its body in roaring dark fire. It stumbled around, desperately trying to put out the abyssal flames, to no avail. Burnt flesh clogged Issei’s nose and the devil wailed in agony, smoke rising from its body. Leaning closer, Issei recoiled at the sight of purple droplets dissolving into fine mist. ‘Is it actually evaporating the acid? How hot are those flames?’

He stepped forward and tried to charge another fireball, but pain jolted through his arm. Did he overuse it?

Unfortunately, the devil took notice of his failure and drilled Issei with an infernal stare.

“I’LL KILL YOU, YOU FUCKING HUMAN!”

Lunging forward, the devil bared acid-coated claws, aiming to tear the boy to kibble. Issei stared at his impending doom, and with mental speed he didn’t know he had, only one plan came to mind. 

Right as the devil landed on his position, back coated in black fire, Issei swapped his weapons. Shield on the left, and dragon on the right. Praying to whatever deity was listening, he leapt under the devil, landing right below its charred torso. With bent knees, he stared up and gripped the dragon tight. He readied a punch - 

But in that moment, the world became awash with gold.

O truest of dragons…

Lend me thy strength…

Help me show this shattered world the greatness of our bloodline…

I am the lord of all that is Golden.

Kneel before thy master, wretches, and tremble at my glory.

Fools and champions, grafted to my skin. Their toil shall become my sword.

Wretched Malenia, leaving me for dead like some mongrel pup.

The unworthy will see. 

I am the last scion of the Eternal Marika. My triumph is written in the stars.

The order shall be mine.

So sayeth Godrick, the Grafted Lord.

As one, across time and space, both mortal and demigod bared their soul to their foes.

“Forefathers, one and all…”

“BEAR WITNESS!”

And the heavens shook.

Whipping his arm up, chunks of flame erupted from the dragon’s maw. A volcanic force, unlike the city had ever seen, tore through the devil’s torso. Fire rained down around them, burning any acid or ichor that would’ve rained upon the boy. The miniature meteors landed all around him, cratering the acid pools and leaving patches of flame in their wake.

Staring at the destruction, Issei panted heavily with exhaustion as his body trembled. Fire kept burning in the Grafted Dragon’s maw, and his arm had fallen numb. A groan pulled him away from the chaotic vista, and his cheeks bulged in disgust as he saw the still-burning devil lying upon the ground, body severed in half and gushing blood all over. Despite its injuries, its upper half heaved and clawed at the ground, desperate to live.

Yet as he beheld the gory sight, an eerie apathy befell Issei. He was sure he’d throw up his lunch soon enough…but all he could feel was an odd calmness or detachment. He wasn’t a violent person, not by any means. 

But this bastard threatened to kill his friend.

And from what it said, it killed a lot of people beforehand.

Maybe he’d be forgiven for not caring.

With a moan of despair, the devil pushed its torso and inched its face, eyes darting to and fro. When they landed on Issei, they paused. The dragon opened its jaws…

…only for a bitter laugh, tinged with blood to break the silence.

“Hah…what a sight I must be…a devil…weak as I am…brought to heel by some no-name human…not even an exorcist or a hero…” It coughed again, hacking up more blood. The red glow in its eyes began to dim.

Then, it chuckled. 

‘What’s so funny about any of this?’

Yet the devil kept talking, even as the rising of its chest slowed.

“Eh, what the hell. Might as well…screw them…over…self-righteous pricks…”

Inhaling, the devil forced its head up and narrowed its cycloptic eye at the teen. 

“Listen well…human…my kind…rules here…they’re not deformed. They’re you…and your friend’s….wettest dreams come true. They’ll find out…about this…and come seeking you…tempting you…a chain you’ll never escape from…”

A crazed smile began forming on its face as Issei stepped back. ‘There are more devils here? And what do you mean by ‘not deformed’?’

He wanted to ask more, but the words became lodged in his throat. The sight of the devil’s burning remnants pinned him where he stood.

“They claim they’re…cultured…noble…enlightened…bah!” It spat, dissolving the road into tar. “Platitudes and empty words. They’ll wring you dry…and leave you rot…I wanted a little fun…to enjoy life a little more…and they turned me into thissss…”

Trembling and on its final breaths, the monster slowly lifted a finger. “Wretched devils…that’s what…we are. We take…what we want…and they’ll…want…you. Never letting go…never accepting no. Remember…these words…boy. Re…mem…ber…”

It let loose one final cackle…and breathed its last. With glazed eyes, it fell to the ground, utterly unmoving.

The words echoed in Issei’s mind over and over.

‘They’ll want you.’

He sighed and hung his head. Tears stung his eyes as he stared at the dragon’s flaming jaw.

‘What am I gonna do now?’

“Um…Issei? Bro?”

Issei’s head shot up in the direction of his friend’s voice. Motohama stood behind a tree, fear etched all over him as he gripped the bark. His bespectacled gaze darted to the bisected, burning corpse, and his face wrinkled in disgust.

“Is it…dead?”

“...yeah.”

“You sure?”

Issei glanced at the corpse again and rubbed his forearm. “I don’t think there’s coming back from…that.”

“...oh. “ His voice was soft and frail, and that speared a metaphorical lance through his friend’s guts. “Okay, I’ll take your word for it.” Motohama nodded, glancing at his armor. “So…I was right about the armor.”

“Hmm. You sure were.” With a mental push, the armor faded in gold dust, revealing his sweat-soaked and acid-burned clothes.

“Handy. Looks good on you.” His gaze fell to the Grafted Dragon. “So that’s the weapon skill in real life?”

“That’s what it looks like. Kinda…packs oomph, right?”

“Heh. Oomph. No shit, dude. No shit. And Black Flame…it actually fits.”

Even gods can burn.

Issei couldn’t help but agree.

His friend then looked around with quaking knees, as if trying to find another trap the devil had laid for them, hiding in plain sight. “Can we go?”

Leave? 

Asphalt sizzled under smoldering flames and bubbling acid. The line of trees that the door cleaved through remained lying on the ground. The warehouse’s entrance was gaping wide, a torn top distinguishing it from its previous blandness.

“...yeah. Yeah, we should do that.”

No way they were gonna tell anyone about this.

And so they bolted, leaving a scene of ruination behind them. 

Had they stayed for a little while longer, they would've noticed the absence of the blue haze in the sky and how the sounds of nature played again. Furthermore, the purple circle blazing to life from nothing would’ve caught the boys’ attention. 

Including the slender figure that rose from it.