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This was the first time in Damien’s life an enemy had wounded him so heavily. He’d rarely met anyone as strong as him, physically speaking. As for skill, the only opponent he fought seriously had been Sir Kane. Jacob too, at first, but eventually he overwhelmed the boy in terms of sheer speed to the point where any difference in actual skill was moot. Even the boy’s gifts which allowed him to foreseen the movements of his enemies was rendered useless against Damien, who was able to attack faster than the boy could react. 

 

In all, there had never been someone who was his equal in terms of both physical ability or skill. Only those who’d been lesser or much greater. No in between.  But now? He met his match. The thing had even taken the time to mock him as “Weak.”

 

The appearance of such a foe set his fighting spirit ablaze. He could feel the Hell Knight’s power as clearly as his own. That was why when the bastard had taken his spear out of Damien’s body and allowed it to fall, thinking the battle was already over, he was enraged.

 

To be fair, he had a large gap in his chest and was bleeding out as he fell from the sky. But that? It would take much more to kill him. 

 

Thump. Thump. Thump.

 

His heart pounded. The wound closed and healed. Damien caught himself, his wings catching the wind and bringing him to a stop. The Hell Knight seemed to sense something and looked down. 

 

It’s eyes, hidden in the darkness behind it’s helmet, glowed brightly. 

 

Damien didn’t bother to say a thing. There was no need. The battle had begun.

 

It happened again. The Knight appeared in front of him in a flash. It’s spear came down on him like the wrath of God. But Damien already had up his guard. Before the weapon reached him, he caught it with his one hand. His muscles screamed as he used the entirety of his strength to stop it, but stop it he did. Having accomplished that, he headbutted the Knight with full force. A boom echoed forth as soon as contact was made. 

 

The Knight stumbled back, it’s feet somehow standing on air like it was land. Damien wrenched the spear from it’s grasp and spun it around, delivering a similar attack to the one it had inflicted upon him just moments ago. The spear made a mere dent in it’s armor. 

 

Well fuck.

 

He felt a smack across his face that sent him flying yet again. His neck twisted as he spun away like a football.  A spiral of blood was left in his wake. The Knight appeared right under him as he flew and grabbed him by the arm before slamming him into a nearby building. Rubble scattered everywhere.

 

“Weak.” The knight mocked for the second time. Damien dangled in his grasp. His arm became a twisted, mangled mess. He’d heard the cracking of bone and he was sure his lungs had been punctured. Then he was dropped, tossed away like an old Doll. He’d never sympathized with Woody so much in his life. 

 

The thought made him laugh. It wasn’t only due to the nonsensicality of the thought. He was laughing because he was having fun. No, he wasn’t a masochist. 

 

But finally, a worthy opponent!

 

He was overjoyed. The pain, the blood, none of that mattered. He crawled his way out of the ruins and shook off the dust. The entirety of his being felt energized as a thick golden aura exploded from his every pore. His wounds healed at a visible rate. His arm repositioned itself into the proper angle. Disgusting, wet cracking sounds could be heard coming from his own body. 

 

When the last of the healing finished Damien charged at the Knight like a rising comet. His leg lashed out and connected to the creature’s side. A hollow bang spread out. His body, augmented by a thick layer of Aura, made another small dent. Red eyes flashed. The Knight opened a palm and the spear, which had fallen to the ground with Damien, flew.

 

A piercing agony bloomed in his chest as it pierced him from the back. He smiled bloodily. “That’s not enough.” To kill him, it wasn’t enough! He used his one good arm to pound away at the first dent. The Knight grunted as his fist rained down upon him. The spear twisted, sending shockwaves of pain. But Damien knew pain. To him it was like an old friend. No amount of it would sway him. 

 

The Knight seemed to understand that, too, eventually. A giant skull appeared behind it’s body. A black skull with an open jaw. Damien sensed danger. 

 

[Warning. Warning.]

 

His head rang with constant notifications. He didn’t care. 

 

[Evade.]

 

An eerie blue light formed within the skull’s open mouth. 

 

[Warning! Evade]

 

Damien never was good at following orders.

 

Phantom-like flames erupted forth. Both he and the Knight were caught in it’s wake, but only Damien burned. It was different from Cory’s flames. Her’s was like standing in the sun. This was infinitely colder. It was as if he were laying naked in the snow. The chill bit at his skin and sunk deep into his bones. 

 

Even so, the smell of burnt flesh clogged his nose. His hair, his skin they were all seared away.  Sweet, excruciating agony pervaded every cell in his body. It was an unimaginable torment. A suffering beyond human tolerance. 

 

Damien simply cackled. This didn’t kill him. And if it didn’t kill him, he was betting he could heal from it. What was pain? What was suffering? He’d experience those things for an uncountable number of years! He felt his soul tear and be ground to dust! 

 

Didn’t he already say it? There was no earthly, mortal pain that could move him! Let him burn. Let him freeze and starve and be eaten alive. You think he could give even the slightest fuck? 

 

Damien was already insane! He’s gone mad so many times it was impossible to remember how many times he’d willed himself back to sanity simply for the fact that madness had come to bore him. 

 

This fire was nothing to him. It could not kill him, and it could not sap his will to fight with merely this amount of suffering.

 

The Infernal Hell Knight stood motionless. It looked down upon the human and was silent. It did not understand him. For all the hundreds of years of it’s existence, it had not encountered a being such as this. 

 

A fledgling Envoy...or perhaps something else...weak, unimportant. There was no danger to be felt from this welp. Yet there was another feeling that rose: Horror.

 

The Infernal Fire had been what his master used to cleanse him many years in the past. Back when he had been a human, these flames had erased what resistance was left after his defeat and had recreated him into his master’s loyal follower. He’d seen his master do the same to countless others. And even now he still remembered the cold, mind-destroying pain of these flames as if it had happened just the day before. None who were baptized within this blue fire had come out with their psyche intact

 

Much less laugh as they burned. 

 

To see such a thing happening before him now, it was a dreadful thing.  Though this man was weak, his willpower was on a level the Hell Knight had never seen before. 

 

It decided. 

 

This one would make a good soldier for his master.