Online In Another World

Between the man's trembling fingertips, the emerald rune rapidly cracked over before shattering into particles, leaving him utterly defenseless as only bits and pieces of his trusty armor still hang loosely to his exhausted body.

"Everett…!" Melisande yelled out.

"Get out of the way, you'll…!" Yuna called.

–Yet, the shielder did not move a single step. It was a promise made not just to those behind him, but to himself: the stake of his life and integrity as a defender, a pact he set on his own soul:

Not a single hair…not a single hair on their heads will be harmed! Everett resolved.

It was an act that supplied both fear and hope, so drastic and inexplicable in the lack of self-preservation needed: spreading his arms out, Everett stood firmly as he stood between the nefarious storm and his comrades behind him.

Immediately, a spill of blood was seen as the violent shadows began eviscerating the man's body, cutting into him on his entire frontal side, but he did not allow himself to give even a single inch.

"...If I don't have my shield, I have my armor! If I don't have my armor, I have my body!...And even if my body starts to give, I have my will!" Everett shouted from the top of his lungs up to the heavens.

The man stood as an immovable mountain amidst the world's wrath, enduring it all as he yelled out to supplement his own fleeting strength.

"...Everett!" Yuna yelled.

–After what felt like an eternity, the malignant storm came to an end as pebbles stopped rattling on the ground and the shadowy winds calmed, settling down.

"...Huff…"

The Dread held an unchanging look on his face, though it was clear that the result before the evil being's eyes were unexpected.

"Well, that was quite a showing," The Dread spoke.

Still on his feet with trembling knees and a quivering body, Everett still stood, dripping with blood from seemingly every inch of his body as his golden locks became dyed in the dark-red essence of his own life-supplying liquid.

Even as enough blood to form a puddle at his feet grew, Everett couldn't help but still wear a half-cocked smile as he looked straight at the Dread.

"...I see. On the brink of death, you must not feel much fear now," The Dread spoke.

"That's not it…" Everett slowly shook his head.

"Hm?" The Dread watched him from afar.

The man drenched in blood smiled, straightening himself up once more as he faced down the violent entity, "We're not in too different shape now, that's it! If I'm feelin' it right now…you must be reelin' yourself!"

It was those confident words of the one who stood as a 'mere human' to the Dread that ignited a level of anger in the primordial being who was missing an arm himself with a body layered in eviscerations.

"...You think just because my vessel is damaged, we're on a similar level now?" The Dread quietly asked.

"--!"

"Everett!"

Not given much of a chance to react, the shieldless defender's eyes widened as the Dread suddenly appeared in front of him with that blurred speed, bringing with him a mountain of bloodlust.

"--How about I show you how wrong you are?!" The Dread posed.

Crap…I'm dead! Everett thought.

Yuna was nimble enough to react to the incoming strike, though even with a dash with her cat-like prowess, she wasn't close enough to intercept the incoming swipe of a dark-forged blade held in the Dread's hand.

"Ngh!"

"What–?!" The Dread let out, stopped in his path.

A hand armored in demonic hide had wrapped around the mutilated Dread's ankle, gripping onto it tightly before all eyes followed its source: a dozen meters back, the Devilheart was huffing, on his feet as he used the unorthodox nature of his armor to stretch his limb.

"You–" The Dread scowled.

"Me," Asher responded in a quiet, determined breath.

Though before a retaliation could be made, Asher withdrew his hand, causing the Dread to trip before being flung into the air.

"Nnnghraaah!" Asher yelled out.

There was nothing held back as in his other hand, the Devilheart prepared a condensement of the Devil Force he wielded, bringing the Dread up before slamming him back down through the tainted winds of the destroyed region.

"What're ya doin'--?!" Everett looked over at Melisande and Yuna.

Specifically, Melisande was attempting to use the basic usage of healing magic she had access to, but was denied by the injured man.

"Huh–?" Melisande looked up at him.

Yuna was perplexed too in that moment, looking at the man who had one foot in the grave, "What's your problem?--You're on death's door, you know?!"

"This is our chance!" Everett screamed as blood dripped from his lips, "...Don't let up now! Look at him! He's fightin' still! We can't lose this opportunity…!"

It was a tough pill to swallow when looking at the trembling, mutilated form of Everett, but just as the enemy in question was slammed into the ground by the Devilheart, there was no need for hesitation.

"C'mon!" Yuna said, dashing in.

"Right…!" Melisande readied herself for combat, breathing in.

Asher didn't let up for a moment, engulfing his claymore in a hefty swarm of his demonic energy as he rushed towards where the Dread had been embedded.

It was clear the Devilheart wasn't running at full-power himself, yet among the others, he by far possessed the most physical prowess as each step he took left a trail of cracking, demonic energy. Resembling black lightning, it coiled around Asher's ankles as he sped through the crumbling field, dragging his engulfed claymore through the land as it carved into it before finally slashing it towards the laid out Dread.

"--Don't lose your edge thinking I'm out of this."

The vile voice of the Dread spoke out just before Asher reached him, witnessing the air vibrate before the figure shifted out of the ground as a blur, moving at a heightened frequency once more as the air hummed around him.

BA-DUMP. BA-DUMP. BA-DUMP. BA-DUMP. BA-DUMP.

It was kicked up to a higher degree; like a mighty drum being rapidly beat, the heart of the Dread's vessel thumped wildly as the augmentation of its body increased.

Just as Asher raised a spiraling, black shield of energy in front of himself, the Dread blitzed forward with speed that howled like a bolt from the sky, slamming his fist down against the barrier.

"Ngh-!" Asher endured.

Though the swirling shield held for the initial impact, the vibrating knuckles belonging to the Dread's sole arm produced a continuous force that shattered it a second after.

As the fist sailed down towards the skull-helm covering Asher's head, the Devilheart ducked down to avoid the swift blow.

FWOOSH

The wind contorted from the failed connection of the Dread's blow, though Asher knew it was only a split-second miracle he managed to evade it as he spun around to counter with a kick. A turn of the Dread's hips allowed it to vanish from the path of the kick, growing a limb of darkness from its amputated arm.

"--!" Asher watched it come closer in that fraction of a second.

"Wind Bore!"

A blast of wind came with miraculous precision, hitting the elbow of the Dread and knocking the attack ever-so-slightly to the side, merely grazing the Devilheart's head as half of the demonic armor was flung off in the process.

It was a battle of milliseconds; a reflex, a twitch, a reaction just a moment too soon would be a loss–Asher kenw this as he didn't waste a moment rushing forward after his foe missed their attack, lunging forth with his claymore held forward.

"Hraaaagh-!" Asher yelled out.

Thrusting the claymore forward with a spiral of demonic force around the steel, the Devilheart used it like a knight jousting with a lance, pointing it towards the audibly beating heart of the Dread.

"--No!" The Dread spit out as blood leaked from his lips.

The malevolent being managed to catch the blade just as the tip stopped before its chest, clenching it as it tore at the vibrating fiend.

"Grrgh…!" Asher struggled, trying to push it forward.

"You won't…!" The Dread spewed out.

The ground rumbled between the two as they exerted their aura, pushing their physical strengths against one another as pebbles levitated and sparks spread across the cracked soil.

In a contest of strength, even the Devilheart struggled with both hands on the handle as the Dread began pushing it away from its chest.

If I can just push it…a bit farther!...A bit more, and this will be over! Asher thought.

Drawing further power from the depths of his being, the reincarnated young man summoned a cape of pitch-black skulls, cascading down his back as [Stage Five] entered full-throttle.

Due to the tattered state of the Dread's vessel, Asher was able to begin to slowly move his blade closer.

"Nnngh…!" Asher struggled.

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