Showdown!! - 決軍勝負!! 葛葉やみ対真紅魔人

SHOWDOWN!
YAMI KUZUNOHA XI VS THE SCARLET DEVILMAN
Keggun shōbu! ! Kuzunoha Yami tai Shinku Majin
決軍勝負!! 葛葉ヤミ対真紅魔人く

From the desk of Yami Kuzunoha XI

Confidential Mission given by the Kan’non Collective, approved by the Super Nationalistic Organization Yatagarasu, hence addressed as ‘Yatagasu’.

Target - Enrico “Scarlet Devilman” Rossi, Dark Summoner representing ‘Compulsivity’ of ‘The Seven Deadly Sin of Modern Times’, elitè subsect of the Ring of Gaea. Current Accusation against Enrico Rossi

• Leading multiple smuggling operations in Japan, culminating in the theft of several cursed Muramasa Blades, including Myōhō Muramasa (not currently known to the common public, as we use a copy at the Tokyo National Museum)
• Presumed capture of the Yatagarasu high ranking agent codenamed ‘Thunder’ [real name - REDACTED]. High probability that Enrico himself murdered him.
• Sources have brought evidence of Jotnars, man-eating primordial deities, roaming around Enrico’s base of operations, something impossible due to the Aesir’s barrier erected from Ymir’s eyelashes. On the grounds of the source being Loki, renown for his unreliability, such requires further corroboration.

Objective(s) -

1. Neutralization of the target
2. Recovery of the Muramasa blades.

• Optional) Intel gather regarding the Seven Deadly Sins of Modern Times.

Warnings by the Kan’non Collective -

• Your opponent is depraved and vicious, his heart is of a ‘Jotnar’, a devourer of the weak, and his blood flows in the name of Gods of war and bloodshed. Strong is the grip of Mrtyu upon him, he shall be drawn to you, for your clan stole her duties. Yet, even from such overwhelming powers lie weakness. This savagery will be compounded by the New Moon. Prepare yourself accordingly and do not allow him to sway you: only then, your spirit will emerge triumphant
• Like we have preached matching defense to your opponent’s attack, we also advise stealth and swiftness: the Scarlet Devilman’s last sighting has been close to Cadiz, land protected by the ones that call their god ‘The One and Only’. Do not be found by any of these Orders, especially the Messians, for their zeal will only escalate the battle, and bring it to us
• This is unprompted by the Yatagarasu, yet warmly suggested: give relief to the spirit of Thunder: while our superiors expect to give ourselves fully to our righteous cause, we cannot forget others’ sacrifices. Not even you, Yami.

Background Research performed with a deal a lesser emanation from the Seraph Amaros of the Fallen Grigori order, codenamed Minima from Mini(A)ma(ros). Such a deal was performed in exchange for a basket of Taiyaki -

→ [Enrico Rossi is a long descendant of the Norse Explorer ‘Erik the Red’ from his mother’s side, while his father’s family boasts several generations of librarians secretly working with the Ring of Gaea ever since they came to the New Continent in the early 20th century. Throughout their stay, they have been accused of stealing ancient tomes, scrolls and old books from museums and churches alike, presumably in exchange for fundings and protection. However, no incriminating evidence has been brought to the authorities thus far.

The young Enrico, while sharing his family’s passion, coasted through his early life, on his family’s riches and reputation to get away with acts of delinquency, mostly shoplifting, graffiti and general harassment. However, ever since he was gifted the cursed blade Tyrfing by unknown sources(The Phantom Society being the prime suspect), likely resonating with his ancient blood, he has fully embraced the doctrine of the Cult of Gaea regarding the worship of fallen deity, no matter how depraved their rituals, as well as the belief of the strong devouring the weak, further rationalizing it with corrupted theories regarding the circle of life.]

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Under my Superiors’ orders, the services of the Midnight Bus had been called off for that night: the spirits would be waiting, restless. Exploiting my knowledge my bus had teleported into a cargo ship of trucks and other large vehicles off to Cadiz. While approaching the harbor, I couldn’t help but notice the anomalous weather: despite being an unusually warm fall, the atmosphere was as cold as the winter of cold Europe, each of my breaths causing condensation, with parts of the ship having a thin layer of frost upon them.

Some of the truckers and sailors were anomalously tall men, easily past seven feet, spending their time drinking tequila, chewing tobacco and letting out crass laughters. All I needed to hear from them was the name of the Scarlet Devilman. They did: I was on the right track… Thus decided not to mingle with them any further, waiting silently for the docking. The sea was at first sight eerily calm, yet at times the faint moonlight reflected turmoils within the waters. I am no seaman, yet I could say that this weather seemed to be a harbinger to a storm.

As we reached the docks, the surrounding men betrayed their true identity by casually carrying cargoes of several tons with but one hand, unaware, or maybe uncaring, of my gaze upon them. Further, the frigid gale that awaited me out of the ship was beyond any sea breeze could. I would go so far to confirm Loki’s claims: not only Jotnar walked among people, but they were bringing their realm upon ours, seeking to morph this world into their new hunting grounds. The shadows of the night supported my tailing: nobody suspects the bus, even amidst the fog...

Only at the entrance of the Scarlet Devilman's manor I was halted by the guard's entrance, a hoary beast of a man, fat covering bulging muscles, his large face sporting big almost pointed ears and a wide nose, similar to a pig snout. Easy to recognize as either a troll or an ogre, growling at me. “Hey, you don’t work with us”

I had many options to get through it, including teleporting past him, but I worked with the least troubling solutions

“Yes, I do”

He fell for it, even apologized for his accusation and let me past the mansion’s gates. One last moment of levity before everything would get serious.

Enrico’s headquarters may have had a garish outer appearance, as you’d expect from a old house of the 17th century from spain, but as soon as you got inside, the place was considerably more barren, stripped of any riches, walls lacking even plaster, or at most being covered by metallic sheets: the area was sterile, even the smell was more akin to disinfectant and metal rather than any welcoming manor. A faculty for smuggling operations, with an underground interconnected system to allow for who knows what kind of

Unsurprisingly, the headquarters were the only area where weather wasn’t altered, the warmth of fall still staying. And while the floors were guarded and routinely patrolled, the brutes wielding blunt weapons such as hammers, whetstones and what I could describe as iron slabs. Due to my short stature, the jotun would perceive weakness in me, thus I was willfully ignored as long as I didn’t get in their way. Slowly, from the silence broken only by the echo of heavy steps, I could hear raspy female voices chanting ancient norse verses: it was obviously Seidr, ancient norse witchcraft, but I’d be damned if I knew what this enchantment was aimed for.

It was then I was stopped by two humans… At least, formerly humans, as while they looked normal on a closer look, on a closer look, their skin was gray-scaled: ‘Kamienny‘, men turned into stone because of their blasphemy, yet somehow still alive… it had to be the Scarlet Devilman’s doing, as they were wielding two conspicuously Japanese blades, as well as guns.

There was no need to talk. The instant the three of us had crossed eyes, our hands were on our weapons. I had two choices: spare my energies to fully employ them on my target and run, at the cost of the entire area’s security rising, or take the first move.

Rather than waste time with piercing damage, I spent one bullet with wind magic properties, the resulting gust knocking them against the wall, then as I rushed to the closest one, my Kartika knife, Taira, would stride against the metal of his Muramasa. Its bloodlust curse screamed, but it was weak, not having fed on enough death to affect me and, with my exorcism, destroying its influence, for the time being. My foot standing on the goon’s chest, I had the shotgun aimed at the other… what was going to tell me, however, took me by surprise.

“Mister Rossi wishes to invite you to his office. Please, allow us to escort you”

They were literally a welcome committee, yet just the utterance of the target’s last name gave me a glimpse of his power: my eyes played tricks of me the wall silently flashed before them the tragedy of the previous family owning the house and their personnel resisting the Scarlet Devilman’s desire to buy the place… and their fate by his very hands. From the metal, blood seeped through, the area beginning to smell of rust and blood

Either the target's cruelty was so intense to have been impressed on the house itself, or the chanting was beginning to affect me. I decided not to continue fighting. While keeping my weapon in my hands, I lowered them and nodded, deciding to handle this on my own.

I was brought to the very center of the building, and there was the target, surrounded by horrifying Jotun hags looking at him adoringly. The very energy I felt just at hearing his la.st name being pronounced was now overflowing the entire area, it was like being at the center of a slaughterhouse. This aura was beyond a simple killer, closer to a god that employs human sacrifice for the sake of it

“My beloved witches, the Seidors, had announced your coming, Kuzunoha. I expected you ever since I dealt with ”, he said before pouring two glasses of vodka with a reddish tint “Don’t worry, it’s not blood, I tried to actually bottle up blood, but by the time i went to mix it up, it was all sticky like glue and wouldn't come down”

He and the Jotun hags began heartily laughing, I refused to indulge in anything: Viking rules of hospitality be damned but I am not going to drink on duty when I drive for a living. Enrico was just staring in amusement at my behavior, sipping on both glasses.

“So… which clan representative are you? I thought most Kuzunoha remained in Japan, you had to be one of the side branches tasked with clean ups”, he commented, seeking to rile me up “Is it true you descend from kitsunes? I heard kitsune livers are very good for medicine. Weird for you to be descending foxes, given you are Yatagarasu’s lapdogs… merchant of deaths… I think you only can understand the beauty of my research”

Standing, he began seeking his weapons. The Jotnar witches are checking on me, one making a throat slit gesture to threaten me if I dared to shoot him, but another told her to quit and actually encouraged me to try, but none dared to talk. Only Enrico spoke, wielding a collection of blades of old, each more dreadful than the other

“This is a neat blade, young Kuzunoha. You see, this was a sword that Arthur inherited from his father Uther, used in rituals such as crowning and knighting. However, Clarent is then reportedly stolen and later used by Mordred to deliver the fatal blow to Arthur. From a blade of peace, this is turned into an instrument of murder, some myths saying it was driven by hatred to the point it killed Arthur even after its wielder’s death, but this… this Clarent is not the one from our universe, belonging to a version of sir Mordreaut called …”

I curtly interrupted him: “I am QUITE familiar with the myth of the Winter Servant, you can stop recounting it”

His red hues had narrowed in tight serpentine slits, annoyed that someone had stopped him from listening to his own voice.

“Are you, hmm?”, he questioned me challenging, a tinge of disappointment in his voice before he showed me another blade

“This one… this one is a jewel of ancient times. The very first evil weapon recorded in history: Kullervo’s black blade. According to folk legends,Kullervo was a man consumed by revenge against his uncle who wiped out his family.. strong, but mad… and indeed, he could listen to his sword lusting for blood: both his enemies’… as well as his own. This blade, if fully awoken, would be capable of so many atrocities… alas, I know not its true name… just like I don’t know Thunder’s… but fear not, I am going to find out, I have a specific torture system for him to do so. As soon as I find it.. . ah, the power of true name”

He was twirling his blades, seeking to see where I’d budge. I did not. As soon as I’d defeated him, I was going to get Thunder back: Jotnar are cowards if you take down their leaders.

But then there was the third blade… for a second, his face twisted itself in a monstrous glee that had to reflect his own soul. I didn’t need to know from him the name of that blade. Beautiful, golden, with an edge so sharp that could cut through iron and steel like clothes… A blade cursed to kill every time it was drawn… and to cause forth great evils. Such was Tyrfing.

“I am not an expert in Eastern mythology, but from what I know, it’s something about how everything flows. I think I know what is that flow: blood”, he kept pontificating “After all, old traditions did employ cannibalism to absorb the victim’s energy and corpses were used even in post medieval medicine. Apparently, according to my fellow Jotnar, the spilled blood of their fallen progenitor was what gave birth to the world, while wiping their old kind out. Speaking of olden times…”

This caught my attention, as I stood from my chair. Enrico gazed at me as he would further explain: “The Ring of Gaea believes in all of the rituals from the past, especially the ones demonized by current religions, under one simple command: the weak worships the strong. But then, didn’t they already lose, which is why they became demons in the first place. I seek to carve a new god. And if the flow of life and death is blood.. This is my intention: a blade of blood, the blade worthy for the ascension of a god. Of course, it takes a lot to forge the sword out of the iron from a people’s blood. Over 400, assuming you don’t spill a drop. And while I am at it, I can grind the bones to dust to strengthen it. Further, as I am a spiritual person, I make sure the person will truly come to hate me and curse me, to earn further strength. I don’t waste anything of who I kill”

He was seeking to make me hate him, but the advice of my Management was resonating within me. I was not going to fall for his provocation. However, I couldn’t stand idly either. I aimed the gun at him, my Kartika knife in my hand ready to strike the Seidors, if required.

The Scarlet Devilman smirked, by now the bloodlust he was emitting akin to the overwhelming spurt of a waterfall, gleefully expecting my challenge, but an expression of disgust sullying his visage at the sight of my shotgun.

“Please, put it away: one of the gods I made a contract with abhors those guns”, he remarked. In retort, I cocked it as a sign of challenge, to which he pushed it down with defiance. I shot the desk with an explosive charge, pushing away the witches… he didn’t seem to have even budge:. an enchantment had to be making him more resistant, likely Seidors’ doing. Not that it mattered as my Kartika knife can tear through witchcraft and toxic magic, thus I got ready to stab him with its side hook, but what I met were sickles… and leathery wings. A grotesque spectacle stood before my eyes as the Mayan God of Death Camazotz was spouting out of Enrico’s chest, opening his maw and seeking to drain my blood through its vampiric bite. All he got was a mouthful of my arm wrapped in my Dragon God scales: he may hurt but was unable to pierce my defense. Just as I was about to stab him, Enrico dispelled him and swung Tyrfing.

Much to my own personal shock, the draconic scales actually failed to clash with the golden blade and pierced through clothes and cut flesh, drawing first blood from me. That was the first time my cape was damaged. Ever. Pain stung, but I refused to give in, using the knife’s curved blade to deflect the blade away, blood and body paint seeped into the accursed metal… but refused to drip off, as if the weapon was feeding on it.

“Gold bodypaint… I had heard of a tradition from Japan”, Enrico commented, still barely letting out any emotions. He summoned a helmet, bellowing out a mighty war cry by the power of its Greek personification, the deity Alala, stunning me enough to kick my chest and off balance, then trying to plunge his blade on my chest. The blood of dragons tempered by divine flames are, thankfully, resistant enough not to cave against the accursed blade, and he pushes back. Taira strikes his calf, red mist of spiritual energy coming out of what should have been a wound, but makes him back down.

“A wounded being, covered in gold to enhance his imperfection, like the gods are said to have golden ichor in Greek Mythology. A blasphemy or a coincidence?”, he was still impassable, as if he didn’t enjoy the battle. Puzzling, I met ruthless figures like him, but he seemed to act as if it were a duty rather than a pleasure. If anything, he seemed to enjoy his own speeches more than trying to kill me. As I tried to shoot him, the summon of a third arm wielding Ares’ shield blocked the bullet from injuring him. I was ready for his next attack, he stood with his defensive stance, realizing

“You aren’t of many words, but at least you are of passing skills… your blood and bones might be what I need to carve my divine blade”, he said before turning to the witches: “ Call my guards, then finish the ritual”

The chanting had grown more fervent while the door opened, the Muramasa wielding stone skinned bodyguards entered, the entire office was enveloped in witchcraft energy as it descended down. A snap of the Scarlet Devilman’s fingers, and the two men were fighting me back. But Enrico hadn’t paid attention to what I shot.Spiritual energy

Spring Heeled Jack had taken shape from the energy and was bouncing all over the area, his knife at hand

“A redhead, tarts and goons attackin' me boss? Ah, I like it, this is like the ole time in England. Time ter shank everyone! Oi!”

He was quick and fast, capable of jumping from room to room, and his weapon, while not powerful, imbued with the fog and the darkness of 19th century Lon, enough to bypass their physical defenses. The only trouble was Enrico himself. If Tyrfing were to land a blow on Jack, he’d be doomed. Thus I focused on the Scarlet Devilman myself. The instant we had crossed blades, the office had reached the bowels of the faculty, ancient caves with runes carved upon them likely regarding ascension through blood. My style, based on Miyamoto Musashi's Two Swords as One, against the brutal strength of blades bolstered by hundreds of dying curses, enough hatred to kill even deities. The Scarlet Devilman was deceptively fast too: whenever I tried to dodge a blow, my blood glistened the accursed golden blade, just enough not to be a deep cut.

However, that was all according to my plan! As I backed from his attack, my kodachi blocking an overhead attack, I summoned my Domovoy, the perfect Sprite to employ underground an household: appearing as a blackbear, he slammed his feet, his Earth manipulation causing stone spikes to erupt

“рушится! [Crumble]”

While defending himself with Ares’ shield, the Scarlet Devilman was thrown off balance and this was the moment for me to strike. My Kodachi was blocked from stabbing his chest, yet my Karika knife, thrown, dispelled his arm. Spring Heel Jack with a jump brought down a Seidor dressed in her eagle suit, making her fall in the newly created stalagmites. Red mist is all that remains of her. As I keep pushing back my enemy, Jack further bounces down, striking him on the heel, allowing me to deliver upon the final blow

Camazotz ‘s bestial wings were forming the cape of the Scarlet Devilman, allowing him to dodge the blows and stay out of . Enrico’s presence was making the Domovoy as feral as I had never seen before… no… he was afraid. He told me why soon after.

“Его душа - армия [His soul - an army]”

“Blimey, yes, that’s one bleedin’ soul”, Jack agreed

“Mediocre summons, but clever usage”, The warrior commented on my skills “Unfortunately… they are nowhere as powerful as mine”

I was not surprised by how Enrico was proving the kind of person that would place power over everything… but the summoning of the zoroastrian torturer Alastor was a surprise as it began raining forth darkness and pushed my entire group back… I wished I could think of a strategy, but then I saw the greatsword Clarent in my opponent’s hand, charged with energy. I knew what I had to do next: first, I dispelled my summons and rushed to get back my Kartika…. and only then, Clarent’s trademark power would come down in a cluster of cursed energy and spiritual filth, my cape the only thing capable of blocking and my Kartika knife the only weapon capable of disrupting it.

I could feel the heat and the hatred of that energy, I’d have been wiped out without my equipment, while now all I had to do was to withstand the energy, and ignore the cuts and the burns on his cheeks… and prepare for the next attack.

Tyrfing again. if I hadn’t deflected it, I’d have been bisected! More of my blood kept soaking the blade, yet it felt like it hungered for more of me. I was stumbling back. Admittedly, Enrico was much stronger than any opponents I had faced, save for top tier deities and the other Kuzunoha representatives. But I am not the kind that yields.

The Scarlet Devilman, just to display some of his power, allowed his stone skinned servants, barely in condition to fight after Spring Heeled Jack roughed them up, to get close. One swing and their head was off, the spiritual energy flowing through them being now absorbed by the Dark Summoner. He was so confident he could beat me at this moment, he wordlessly revealed to me the way he summoned Devils.

Out of his body, several humanoid misshapen masses horribly spouted out, looking akin to bodies of corpses dehydrated and lost in the blizzard. This was, ultimately, the Scarlet Devilman’s soul: a congregation of grudges and corpses taking the form of ancient Norse revenants, draugar. They were the summon’s catalyst: whenever he called forth someone, he was using their energy rather than his own.

Despicable.

Again, I was forced back as all the revenants summoned at once the Alala to stun me with their war cries each seeking to stab me with a Muramasa, but as usual, my cape saved me. I tried to summon Karkinos and even out some odds but alas, the second I did, Enrico’s blade plunged into its shell

“.γιατί εγώ? Είμαι απλά ένα καβούρι… [Why me? I am just a crab…]”, was all it could say before exploding into red myst. I grabbed a fistful of it, before seeking to move back but again, the draugar sought to push me against Enrico, their mouth shaping into Camazotz and seeking to bite me in place, drain my energy and stab me…

Unfortunately for them… I still had an ace up my sleeve. Normally, I wouldn’t use it for it is far too taxing on my body, but I was being pushed in a corner. Holding my cape, I tapped into its latent deific spiritual energy. It was going to aid me once more in battle. The cape would swell like an horo, its leather would turn thicker, growing scales and limbs: the power of the Everlasting Black Flame was once more mine. I had now to use it fast to destroy my enemies… lest it would destroy myself.

The following Draconic roar coming into my hood-turned into dragon head shook the cave, bolstering me and my physical attributes. The closest draugr sought to stab my human chest, but draconic jaws of my hood caught him before he could do so, and their black flames consumed it. My tail slammed down the ground, shaking it further as I used my arms to control my new draconic limbs and crush each of the revenants, my touch sufficient for me to incinerate them…

The Black flames… so powerful… barely a few seconds and I felt like I was boiling, but I had to push them further: for Enrico was reading again Clarent for its trademark attack. This time, however, as I breathe fire the black flames push back the energy and begin to burn through it. I could feel burning scars forming, I bit my lips, seeking to hold back the pain…a loud explosion, the flames jetted through the chute Enrico’s office descended from and set the whole manor on fire, even burning through the roof itself. I could see Clarent fly away, so now Enrico could use only his preferred blade. As long as I kept the range, I could burn down the entire arena and eventually my own opponent… or so I thought.

From the inferno our combined had caused, Enrico’s voice echoed.

“To be able to use devils powers without summoning them…. You are the Devil Hijacker”, he asked, recognizing me “To think I am going to kill a Yami is hilarious, given your reputation as the God of Death”

I identified where he was and swung my tail at him. Much to my own surprise, Tyrfing proves strong enough to slice even through my Horo of Black flames. My dragon head is capable of biting through him, yet I am forced to toss him, lest he were to strike my brain Fire leaked through the wounds. I had to end it quickly…

“Kuzunoha, do you see the sky?”, the Scarlet Devilman declared with a smirk as red energy flew into him “They are waiting for a sacrifice! Let’s paint the sky red with our blood! This… this is my other self. BY THE BLOOD SPILT, KHORNE, I SUMMON THY BLESSING”

A contract with… He had been able to make a deal with a god from beyond this world’s mythology?! Sinking his finger down his face, he revealed muscle tissue and tendons, blood dripping down his face and shaping the stylized skull rule of the Blood God… I sought to throw a fireball, but his blessing made him immune to ranged combat, fire sliding away akin to water. I rushed him, my stomps causing the ground to shake, but as he is in fighting range, he jumps and slices through my back, once more getting blood. He was unable to do further damage as I struck him with the tail, although he successfully landed on his feet. What a mad warrior: he kept his calm face, but Khorne’s blessing had placed him in a berserker trance to numb his own pain, while the longer my transformation went, the more burns I was sustaining.

Mid-fight I was eventually forced to dispel the Horo, my draconic skin returning into a normal cape, but the size difference allowed me to avoid the attack and ducked underneath: the Blood God hated long ranged combat, but nothing was said about a bullet point blank. The electricity surged through my opponent making him stumble, the nerve convulsing overrode the berserking rage, but the golden blade was able to slice the second bullet that would have declared my victory. However, he was only delaying the inevitable: the damage he had sustained was enough now for me to triumph.

As he would seek to slash me I used Karkinos’ magical residue to conjure his pincers and was able to grab the blade mid swing. Now, my hand on the blade.. and I would whisper what I was doing.

“Magical… Hijack”

Tyrfing’s curse was after all, something within my powers to copy: a blade capable to slice through everything and not to miss as long as it wasn’t deflected, I could see even through his scarred face that he was nervous while gazing my scarred hand, flaring a golden aura and extending towards my Korachi… He backed away, placing his blade close to his face so I could not aim at the only exposed area I had just enough for three strikes of my blade…

As I dropped the gun, I explained to him “I will defeat you at the count of three, Scarlet Devilman… let’s count together, shall we?”

I can hear the curse of Tyrfing ringing screams for blood inside my ear.

My first swing of my hand tore through the armor and drew blood, just like how he did to me. One.

Then I blocked Tyrfing with my second swing, but I slid under and with a stab motion, I struck away the accursed blade’s handle and pierced through his wrist. Two.

The powers of the blade abandon me, although I feel its voices hungering for more blood, it even refused to fall like a normal sword and remains with the point aiming skyward

At last, Enrico has lost both weapons. Out of panic, he grabbed my dropped Valis to shoot a flaming bullet, forgetting Khorne's blessing forbid ranged combat to damage the opponent. Wrapping my cape around my hand, I caught the flaming projective and as my whole clothed hand was wreathed in fire, I punched.him straight in the head, Even with the Berserker trance, he is forced back… his back slumping against his favored blade. It held no mercy as it pierced his stomach, finally completely bathed in the blood it craved.

Three.

A Lifegem carrying healing energy was shattered to recover my injuries.

I had won.

The Scarlet Devilman, at last, had fallen, I immediately grabbed my Kartika knife and sank its blade down the skull rune on his chest, dispelling the curse and further sinking down.

“... Mister Rossi”, I speak “You were among the strongest opponents I have ever defeated. You must be even above the Winter Servant”

Coughing up some blood, Enrico muttered a thank, but I halt him by stomping on his chest

“It’s not a compliment”, I reply coldly “You are a wretched being who thought that by bearing people’s hatred, you could rise to godhood, you only see yourself and your own status. You disgust me… Now, don’t misunderstand… I don’t enjoy what I am going to do, but this exorcism will be quite thorough…”

My Kartika blade sank further down my defeated opponent’s chest, drawing no blood, until I finally felt a lump that was his soul, and pierced it with its hook. I wish not to describe the fleshy mass of screaming faces, eyes and tentacles that I yanked back, a cluster of trapped spirits and curses still forcefully clung to its host. With my short blade I begin to take it apart, rest myst and black filth oozing away from the Dark Summoner, acting as fast as possible. Over four hundred souls, just as many curses and grudges, lumped with the bindings with the Muramasas and the blades. At times my opponent tried to weakly fight back, but even his summons were unable to push me away, as I stabbed the lumps of magic before they could take shape.

Ignoring his screams and plight, I would stop only when his original soul was left and I let it back in his body. Standing away I pulled Tyrfing away, wrapping it in my cape and exorcism seals. Its powers were strong enough even the talismans were burning. I turned away from Enrico, as he feebly crawled toward me, still seeking to fight. Annoying. “Not… going to kill me, An-?”

He had to have figured out my true name from my involvement with the Winter Servant. Unfortunately for him, I wasn’t in the mood to allow him to talk further, and shot a bullet straight to his head, silencing him.... although the way his ghastly eyes were fixated on me, I knew he was still alive.

“I am not a God of Death”, I replied “You have accumulated enough grudges, I am letting them handle you”

I didn’t need to turn away to know how the over four hundred shadowy presences I had unsealed were grasping at Enrico, speaking in deadly whispers poisoned with rage and suffering. The Scarlet Devilman would begin ranting like a madman while dragged away, something about this not going to stop his ascension and him coming back someday to haunt me.

… At least, I assume so. Honestly, I did not pay attention to anything but the sudden sound of a swirl of flames and his screams. Then he was no longer there. So long, Enrico, you were despicable until the very end, but I had more important things to do. The sealed Tyrfing was on my back, and I had just summoned the devil of the Tower of Babel, Pruflas, and Yeobul.

“Enrico has been vanquished, let’s recover the Masamune Blades and agent Thunder, set everything on fire, then leave on my bus… Yeobul, if you do everything well, I am letting you raid the fridge of the mansion”

“야! [Yay!]”

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SUMMARY AFTERMATH:
Weapons and Items Employed

• Taira
• Masakado
• Valis Less Than Three (Wind Bullet x 1, Explosive Bullet x 1, Fire Bullet x 1, Electric Bullet x 2, Normal Bullet x 1)
• Tyrfing (through Devil Hijacking)
• Lifegem x 1

• Foul - Spring Heeled Jack
• Sprite - Domovoy
• Ghost - Yeobul
• Sacred - Karkinos
• Fiend - Pruflas
• Dragon - Everlasting Black Flame (through Horo of the Black Flame)
• Undead - Draugr (By Enrico)
• Maneater - Jotun (By Enrico)
• Ogress - Seidor (By Enrico)
• Undead - ‘Kamienny‘ (By Enrico)
• Destroyer - Ares (By Enrico)
• Raptor - Camazotz (By Enrico)
• Wargod - Khorne (By Enrico)

Status of the Target: Vanquished, then dragged by vengeful ghosts away into some recess of Sañjīva. Presumably deceased
Status Objective:

• Jotnar and Seidors dispersed
• Muramasa blades recovered, their curses currently sealed
• Tyrfing contained, but sealing is currently impossible, its curse is considerably beyond my capacity as an exorcist.. May require outside help.
• Clarent has been recovered by the Church, I am not going to pursue my research with it. Kullervo’s black blade was not found, likely taken away by the Seidors.
• Thunder’s whereabouts are unknown: I haven’t found him across the faculty. Further inspection with search teams. required

Stamp of Approval from Yatagarasu