by George Fry
While some of the attendants continued praying, others lifted their heads and solemnly watched as Drifter continued to approach the stage. Some out of fear, while others from mere curiosity.
As he reached the end of the aisle, one of the acolytes, leapt from their seat, stretching out their arms, blocking Drifter’s path.
“Wh-who are you!? How did you get past the barrier!?” The man questioned, terrified for his life as Drifter stared him down.
“Sit down.” Drifter responded.
“I-if you’re not here to pray, then please leave.”
“Praying? To a demon?”
“There’s nothing wrong with that. W-we’re not hurting anyone.”
“Not yet, now move.”
“Lord Anderson warned us about people like you… Heathens who can’t accept that the world is changing…”
“Oh, fucking christ, here we go…”
“Everyone thinks the demons are evil, that they’re here to destroy humanity, but you’re wrong. The demon’s are here to bring salvation to us all, to find those who are worthy. If everyone joined us in solidarity with the demons, we can live in peace together, as they change our world for the better.”
Drifter didn't care for the desperate cries of a brainwashed idealogue. Whether the demons were good or not was an argument someone else could have.
“Hey! Demon priest!” He called to the hooded figure on the podium. “How about you face me, instead of hiding behind your followers?”
“How did you get past the barrier?” The priest asked.
“Not telling.” Drifter teased.
“I see… then, I have no further reason to converse with you, Heathen. Now, leave this place.”
“For fuck’s sake…”
Tired of their deflection, Drifter leapt over the acolyte, landing on the stage behind the priest, back to back. The onlookers shocked by Drifter’s sudden acrobatics.
The priest had the same disgusting smell as the oil creatures from Marble Hill.
“You… what are you doing? You are wasting your time.” The priest criticised, neither of them giving the other the courtesy of looking the other in the eye, keeping their backs turned.
“I’ve got plenty of time to waste.”
“I can sense great power within you… why would you abuse it for such petty reasons? What do you hope to gain from striking me down? What have I done to deserve such a fate?”
“Nothing yet, but if you don’t get your greasy paws off my scabbard, I may be forced to retaliate.”
“That sword doesn’t belong with you, Heathen.”
“Oh… and you think you deserve it, instead?”
“That sword is only fit for a king!”
The priest yanked the sword from his sheath, becoming entranced by its legendary power.
“With this, I can avenge my brothers that fell at your accursed hands, Heathen!”
“That's only if you can handle its power.”
“Of course I can! My people have waited their entire existence for this moment!”
“Little over-the-top, but okay. Let’s put your conviction to the test.”
With a snap of his finger, Drifter’s sword erupted into white flames, setting the priest ablaze, as he cried in anguish.
“But, why!?” He wailed. “Why won’t it accept me!?”
“The sword doesn’t accept anybody. You have to accept the sword.”
Like his brothers before him, the priest quickly fell to ashes, leaving only charred robes and ash behind.
Drifter took notice of the items hidden behind the priest’s podium. A dish full of money and a syringe with a black substance inside it. The money didn’t surprise him, but the syringe gave off a bad vibe.
He didn’t sense anything demonic from it, but it definitely didn’t belong in the human world. Whatever it was it seemed invaluable. He slipped it into his wallet, someone out there probably needed it, so keeping it to himself could prove useful.
While the rest of the acolytes looked on in horror, Drifter continued on like it was business as usual.
“Dale!” He called. “Is the barrier gone?”
Throughout the whole ordeal, Dale had no idea what Drifter was doing and was still a little stunned by his brazen performance, nonetheless, he quickly checked outside.
“Uh… yeah, it’s gone.”
“Cool, but we’re not done yet. I can still sense a bunch of them around the back.”
As Drifter dropped from the stage, his path was blocked by more of the acolytes, who weren’t pleased with his behaviour.
“You murdered our priest!” One person yelled.
“This won’t go unpunished!” Another threatened.
Drifter was unfazed by their criticisms, as they blocked off the aisle. Rather than force his way through them, he instead opted to walk around them, ignoring their angry cries.
“Let’s blow this shitshow.” Drifter groaned, as he and Dale began their search for the remaining demons.
They headed around the back of the church, casually strolling through the graveyard, surrounded by trees, as Drifter followed the scent of the demons.
“Did you really have to barge in and make a scene like that?” Dale asked.
“What? And let them drone on about their gay religion?”
“I guess…?” Dale quickly changed subjects. “Still… to think there are really people out their worshipping demons, although I can’t really blame them.”
“Elaborate.” Drifter questioned.
“Uh… well, imagine being religious all your life, only for literal demons from Hell to show up and ruin that life. It probably shattered their whole world view, like everything they were taught was wrong. It’d certainly make me question my beliefs, not that I really had any.”
“Please, don’t go all fedora on me.”
“What? Do you believe in a higher power?”
“I don’t care.”
“Do you believe in anything?”
“I believe you're an idiot.”
“Goddammit, walked right into that one…”
Luckily for Dale, a sudden soda can to the back of his head snapped him out of his misery.
“What the fuck!?” He cried, as he noticed the group of acolytes closely following them to their destination.
“Drifter, you seeing this shit!?”
“Ignore it.”
"But, they're yelling at us."
"And that's all they can do.
Ignore it."
They soon arrived at the center of the graveyard with the acolytes continuing to hurl threats and slogans at them.
“Those who oppose demons will only bring about their own demise!”
“Demons are the true Gods!”
“Lord Anderson will not tolerate the existence of wicked souls, who deny the truth!”
Their words meant nothing to Drifter, who hadn’t met a single demon he couldn’t handle, doubtful that he would meet one now.
Then, they arrived at the demon’s location.
A large, torn chair, surrounded by more gremlin demons sat at the edge of the field, behind the graveyard. Upon this ragged throne, sat a tall individual, covered in black armour. It was simple and sleek, built with functionality over style, with the exception of his long black cape and horned, corinthian helmet, hiding his face.
“So, you must be the big boss around here?” Drifter called out to the armoured creature.
The creature folded his arms as they examined their new guests.
“The Legendary Demon Sword? So, the rumours really are true. It was in the ownership of a human these past few years. How amusing.”
“Hey!” Dale yelled. “Are you the one in charge of this cult!?”
“I suppose. They were all defenseless against the mist demon plaguing this town. They seeked help from me and after I obliged, they chose to worship me. But, it seems you two didn't come here to shower me with the same adoration. Thank goodness. Their grovelling was growing tiresome.”<
br />
“Do you recognise the name Locke?” Drifter asked.
“No. Why?”
“Welp, I’m outta here.”
“Hold on!” The demon sat up in his chair. “You’re not seriously leaving!?”
“I don’t care about your cult. Later.”
“Lessers. Attack them.”
On his command, the gremlin demons rallied together to viciously assault Drifter for their leader.
“Ugh, Dale, you handle this.”
Drifter planted his sword in the ground and folded his arms, completely uninterested in fighting cannon fodder.
Dale rolled his eyes, before drawing his blade and slicing through the lesser creatures.
They weren’t very smart, nor fast and they certainly weren’t dangerous, as Dale made quick work of cutting them to shreds in a blindingly fast display of dashing and slashing. Despite his impressive performance, this only stained his suit even more with blood.
“Oh man… it’s even on my shirt now…”
“Now, that was a sight to behold!” The demon exclaimed. “Two humans with demon weapons? What a pleasant surprise.”
The demon directed his attention to Dale, intrigued by his swift techniques.
“Boy! I wish to see the extent of your powers for myself! Duel me!”
“Wait, what!?” Dale yelped.
“Prepare yourself and duel me!”
“You heard the crazy man." Drifter coaxed. "Duel him.”
“I thought we were leaving.”
“You said you wanted to find their master and now you have. Don't be afraid, Mr. Hero. Defeat the villain.”
“Oh Christ, fine!”
“Excellent.” The demon responded.
He blew his cape open, revealing two scabbards strapped to his back, crossing over each other in the shape of a crucifix. With his left hand, he drew his blade from the horizontal scabbard, just under his neck and with his right, he drew from the second scabbard, just over his shoulder.
Patiently, he unsheathed his two impossibly large zweihanders. Swords, almost as tall as he was, wielding both of them effortlessly, despite their massive weight. How he managed to fit them into such small scabbards was beyond the understanding of anyone present.
He crossed his swords to properly display them to his audience, before scraping them together and assuming his fighting stance. Wielding the left sword in front and the right sword backhanded, from behind.
“Now, come at me.”
Though a little intimidated, Dale wasted no time and immediately charged in. Wanting to test the demon’s reactions, he aimed for his left side, to see if he could even defend himself against his blistering speed.
In a split second, Dale rushed to the demon’s left, but was suddenly thrown off balance when the earth spontaneously shattered underneath him.
Without even realising, the demon’s sword had preemptively crashed into the ground in front of him, blocking off Dale’s angle of attack. A moment earlier and Dale would have been crushed.
After jumping back, Dale sprinted around the demon to attack from behind, but was quickly met by a backhanded slash from his right sword, behind him.
The demon didn’t even bother to try and attack Dale, he simply swiped horizontally to ward off his assault. Once again, if Dale hadn’t reacted and leapt back, he would have been cleaved in two.
Dale was at a loss, either the demon’s reactions were impossibly fast, or it was predicting his every move. He circled around to its front again. This time, he charged at the demon’s right side, left open as it was preoccupied with defending its back.
Even if it could predict his moves, there was no way it would be able to react fast enough to swing its sword completely around to stop him, they were too large to be that precise.
However, Dale’s hypothesis was only partially correct, the demon couldn’t attack him with his sword in time and Dale managed to land a blow on the demon’s armour, but it was all for naught.
Rather than attacking with the blade, the demon simply thrusted the hilt of the sword into Dale’s stomach. All Dale managed to accomplish was scratch the armour with his blade, before being tossed back to Drifter with the force of a megaton punch.
Lying defeated on his back, all Dale could muster, after coughing up blood was a pained:
“Your turn, dude…”
Drifter checked Dale’s pulse for a moment.
“Well… he’s not dead…
Interesting… who are you?”
The demon pointed to the crowd of acolytes behind Drifter.
“There was a human with a strange manner of speaking who referred to me with the word Stolz. I’ll use that as my moniker.”
The acolytes all moved aside, singling out the heavily accented German man of the group.
“Nein! I did nothing!” He pleaded.
“Okay?”
Drifter ignored the strange man and returned to the matter at hand.
“Keeping your identity a secret?”
“I have no need for names. I exist simply for the thrill of the fight. Now, will you pose a challenge, or have I sorely overestimated the Demon Sword’s abilities?”
Drifter was ready to bring the heat and casually strolled over to Stolz, who had already assumed his fighting stance, again. The moment Drifter got in range, Stolz wasted no time hammering his sword down, only for Drifter to stop it by merely raising his fist, covered in his white aura.
Convinced the force of his aura alone would snap the blade in two, Drifter was mildly shocked to discover, the blade had instead embedded itself into his fist, slowly carving between his knuckles. Stolz’ second blade came swinging from the other side, with Drifter catching it with is free hand, clamping him in place. Just as before the blade slowly sank into his palm.
Stuck in a sudden stalemate, Stolz put more force into his blades, to crush Drifter. However, Drifter took advantage of this force to hoist himself up, like a gymnast and deliver a super charged dropkick to the demon’s chest. The force of the blow, sent Stolz reeling back, releasing Drifter from his grasp, but it wasn’t nearly enough to deal any significant damage.
Before Drifter had a chance to counterattack, Stolz charged forth, with the hilt of his sword. He thrusted it forward, only for Drifter to catch it in the palm of his hand at the last second.
Although he successfully blocked the attack, Drifter still had to brace himself for the extraordinary weight pushing behind it, briefly opening him up, as Stolz’ second blade came swinging over head.
Drifter’s paralysis was only temporary. He sidestepped the blade as it crashed beside him. He then grabbed the demon’s right arm and yanked it forward, throwing it off balance, as it embarrassingly stumbled forward.
Stolz recovered swiftly, but didn’t face Drifter, instead he got back into his stance, with his back-handed blade awaiting Drifter’s approach.
“You sure do love that stance.” Drifter mocked. “You must be predicting our attacks.”
He pointed his finger like a gun, gathering energy into it.
“But, can you predict this?”
Drifter fired a shining speck of light like a bullet, closing in on Stolz, but by just slightly raising his sword, the demon was able to block the glittering gunshot. Despite its minute size, the speck detonated like a bomb, tearing up the earth beneath the demon, engulfing it in smoke.
"And now to finish it."
Drifter charged in, aura ablaze, when suddenly, a black, X-shaped, energy projectile, burst forth from the smoke. It appeared so suddenly, Drifter barely reacted and took the full brunt of the attack head on.
The black cross collided with Drifter’s face, leaving an X shaped burn and stopping him in his tracks. As Drifter leant backwards, losing his balance. The demon leapt out of the smoke, ready to pounce on his bewildered prey.
With both swords raised above his head, Stolz prepared the killing blow. However, glancing at Drifter’s face, he saw his deep, black eyes already locked onto his target, with a
smug grin. Whether it was on purpose, or quick thinking, Stolz could tell Drifter hadn’t lost yet.
Using his power, Drifter clenched his fist, regained his footing and rocketed forward. Stolz halted his assault and crossed his blades to shield himself, as Drifter slammed his fist into them, sending Stolz sliding across the ground with the force of his strike.
“Aren’t you a tough cunt?” Drifter praised, taking a quick breather. “Shame you joined a shitty cult.”
The demon took a moment to compose himself.
“I am no cultist. I simply came to the human world out of boredom. I heard there was a human here who was far stronger than any creature in Hell, so I grew curious. It seems the rumours were true.”
“So, you’ve been sitting on your arse this whole time, waiting for me?”
“Indeed. I’m not sure why these humans chose to worship me, a simple warrior, but the priest insisted I stay, implying if I did, that you would show yourself. Although, I bet he wasn’t expecting to encounter you first.”
“So, what’s your plan now?”
“Now… we begin phase two.”
Stolz raised his two zweihanders above him, in an upside-down cross formation as he began his chant.
“May the souls of the fallen, lend me their undying valour! May their hopes and despair, their forgotten dreams and empty screams give me strength!”
“What?”
The corpses of his deceased underlings emanated with a black aura, transferring their demonic energy into Stolz, as he too gained a powerful black burst of energy.
“What… the hell is he doing?” Dale asked, just barely lifting his head off the ground.
“His power just fucking skyrocketed.” Drifter exclaimed.
Stolz stabbed his sword into the earth, creating a fissure that chased towards Drifter. Once it reached its target, a burst of dark energy erupted from the ground. Drifter dodged to the side, impressed by how far the geyser of energy reached into the sky.
So distracted was Drifter, he wasn’t aware of the second fissure chasing him down. He braced himself for impact, but this was no geyser. Now that Stolz could see he had Drifter trapped, the fissure spread out, around him.
A large circular crater quickly formed, before a massive explosion of energy, as wide as a helipad consumed Drifter in a wave of black lightning.