Monarch of Darkness, Arsene

Chapter 505: Terror of Baphomet

Chapter 505: Terror of Baphomet

Taking a single step towards Baphomet, my vision was consumed in a field of ice that seemed to swallow all of space. It was akin to a sheet of snow, halting my thoughts in a bubble of mist. I couldn't even see when the cruel lance of demonic energy struck my neck—tearing away my life force.

Blasting me off my feet and through the manner I skimmed over the land; my face, arms, legs were caught uprooting stones and wood. Blood gushed and sprayed over me as I continued, unable to slow myself down.

"The First Spell is called Frigid Mind; the second is Demonic Lance."

Spitting blood from my lips after piercing through a few hundred homes, I held my neck shimmering with gore, feeling the chill of death hum in my mind. I struggled to gulp down the blood threatening to leak; I helplessly glanced at Baphomet stepping slowly through the rubble.

"Both are Tier One Spells, used in the forgotten age. While not at God-Level, these circles are powerful enough to kill a God; One simply needs to tweak them a bit." He said as the air once again began to chill.

"Frigid Mind? Did it attack my soul?"

"You think people didn't invent ways to kill soul benders?" He mocked, "One simply needs to attack the mind directly. While less effective than the soul and slower to attack, the outcome is the same."

Rising to my feet, I snorted, narrowing my eyes as my injures began to heal at a visible rate, but he only shook his head, "Regeneration will soon become a thing of the past, boy. True Gods do not heal in battle. Divinity is too useful in the heat of battle to waste."

"Unlike Qi, you do not just suck in divinity, any which way unless you are draining your thralls or apostles of their divinity. We conserve and use it with heavy discretion unless your mortal Dao allows otherwise. But even so, it's limited. "

Condensing my sigil till it condensed into a swirling vortex of flames, burning blacker than the darkest night, another sigil appeared, causing all my spears to multiply with the identical flames around them. Turning my surroundings to ash, I chanted, making sure to add all my comprehension in.

"Hellish Flame Spear!"

Casting an almost endless massive ray of hellish flame towards Baphomet, an almost invisible vortex appeared, shielding him from danger. The ground itself had all but turned to an inferno that could kill any false god, but Baphomet was fine.

He smiled, but I was not one to remain star-struck. Charging at him, with all I had, the ground shattered as I appeared a few meters away, heaving my spear towards his eye.

Slapping Noctem away, a field of embers filled my vision, but I would not let up. Raining a folly of strikes towards Baphomet. The echoes of thunder fired off in quick succession, but to no avail.

Pushing forward Baphomet, met me up close and personal. Grinning savagely, his fist came crashing up towards my chin. I could feel all of space tear. I could hear the howls of wind and the twisting of Dao. Death was about to follow.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!!!

Bathing me in my blood, I held onto Baphomets fist, watching the demon savagely grinning from ear to ear. Meeting his smile with mine, he spoke."This is the peak power of what a Royal Devil can do. You are coming along, but you are not quite there."

Glancing down at my skinless arm, I did not groan or whimper in anguish. Not in this battle, not against a demon like Baphomet. Demons grew with battle, and this is what I needed. Not some meat sack that couldn't last more than a minute.

Twisting Noctem towards his neck, I quickly gave up on the Dao of Illusion against the Demon of the Nines; he was too intelligent and proficient in Dao to be tricked. I needed precision, skill, and a plan.

Humming with profound darkness, a misty flame shimmered like flames from my spear, cutting through the air, as Baphomet dodged my strike towards his neck.

Cleaving his ax towards my head in a fluid reaction of skill, two sudden crests appeared. Unable to tell what type of circle it was, the Sigil of Noctem, and the Abyss, appeared at the tip of my spear.

Howling with a resonance, I never knew about the Path of Abyssal Night, coiled around me, as four brilliant, almost holy flashes of light struck me, or at least tried.

Stinging my flesh with its lock trying to tie me down, I watched four golden swords of pure, holy energy being blocked by an almost ethereal barrier around me.

"Fascinating! you can ignore anyone at False God in the bed of chaos, royals would have to use full attacks to cut through your skin, and now there is this barrier."

Somewhat bewitched, I glanced at the smile of Baphomet, feeling my heart begin to quiver; I staggered back by the beastal smile upon his face.

"Show me your Royal Blood, ability. My Legacy Crest changed my ability, but I am curious what your's is."

A little hesitant, I glanced down at the spear within my hand and the two sigils humming with power. Taking a deep breath, a sharp whisper entered my soul. It was soft and quick, but its words shook my heart.

"The Weave belongs to Zariel, The Heart of Man, Lucifers, and The Heavens, Aurelia." It uttered, startling me.

Shrouding the mirrored world in smoldering darkness that smelt of the Abyss, my breath grew ragged, and my mind cloudy.

"Tenebrae," I whispered.

"Devil, you are no more, their abilities remain, but you are so much more. Show the Realm, the ability born of your blood. Show me, my child, your darkness, Show me, my Shadowfell."

Arching my hands high, a crackle thundered through Baphomet's domain. Cracking the mirrored Realm. Noctem howled, shaking with the screams of Sitri, and Yeshamiel, while the name upon my spear radiated a light that withered life.

Turning my gaze to Baphomet, my world turned to a string of weaves twisting back and forth. My very body had all but transformed, turning me into my abyssal form.

"What does it do?" Baphomet asked. But I could see it, the fear within the weave brewing like a withering ember.

"Freedom. In this domain, everything I do will be without price. Any spell, ritual, or Arte, are mine to use without divinity or worry of something being paid." I muttered, absentmindedly falling to my knees as blood rained for my nose. "I am not even bound by death. so is the power of the Nines, the Night, and the Abyss."

"This is the ability of a Shadowfell."