Steward Of Paradise At Work

by Tall-Gothic-Guy

I didn't come here to meet shrine maidens or monsters. I didn't come here to erect a cross. No one even told me about magic being a thing here. Actually, I didn't expect myself to be here at all. I was simply chasing a woman who created eye portals. But it beats being a runaway thief. I just wish I knew sooner, that this place will never give me a break, not even God...Bring it on.

15. Throw The Fire and Flames

[I keep telling you: I can't read it!] I threw the damn thing at Marisa.

She caught the book one-handed by its spine without bothering to get up from her bed of frozen furniture, comprising of a matching halved-table like the one I'm lying on but frozen because of her ripping open the ice bag I kept in my pocket. "C'mon! Just try to focus! Surely, it'll get ya back into it subconsciously or something-da ze!" She protested, throwing it back at me.

I caught the thing with both hands, then I threw it to the opposite direction, over an intact shelf and it will be lost somewhere in the pile of other books. I hope she doesn't go over there and find it. [For the last time: that was NOT me! The demon knew how to read the symbols! I don't!]

"But he was using your body! Your MIND! All the knowledge that guy had's gotta be flushed into ya!"

[That bastard already had a mind! Only needed a body so he could do what he wanted! My body!] Ugh! Motherfucking hell, I'm so fucking tired of this conversation! [I was possessed, it felt like I was half-asleep or having a stupid dream!]

"Yeah!? When'd you get senses back then!?" She asked gruffly, unmoving from her cool spot as she had her hands behind her head as a pillow.

[When you blasted me with a fucking sunbeam! That burnt, you jackass!] And look what you just did to my body! I'm literally coated with ash and I look grey!

"Hey!" She prepped herself up with her elbow, glaring at me, "You started it! Aren't you forgettin' what ya just did over there!?"

[I! WAS! POSSESSED!] You don't have to throb your thumb to the mess I made over there, you cunt! It was already obvious who the hell made that in the first place! And I swear to God, it was not me! [I barely remembered half of what I did!]

"If you said that you were you again when I blasted ya and barely remembered the half of it, how come you knew to do that!?"

She was pointing to the air-conditioner I was holding, which was the fucking winter book that I somehow managed to conjure a blizzard wind to blow towards my face. Not only did I knew the incantation (which was del orha kyil), I even knew how to dispel it. [I-I...I don't know! It was subconscious! Is prolly the demon influence still lingering on me!]

"Yer just in denial, brah!" Geez, she's been calling me that for the past few minutes. Where'd the change of names come from? "I'ma hundred percent sure that ya could get all the knowledge that demon had back into ya if you put some heart into it-ze!"

As tempting as that sounded and probably glorious it would be since I would be earning magical powers, I still say no. I don't take powers from a fucking demon, [I hope not.] I replied placidly, no longer shouting my lungs out. Then I thumped my head against the table I lied on, soaking in the freezing wind this book was giving me, [Let's just drop it, Marisa. I'm tired. My evening's been full of shit since I've woke up.]

I heard a gruff sigh, then the sound of someone slumping down on the wood, "Good idea. Dodgin' all the danmaku ya threw at me reminded me of a certain incident when I went Underground. But ya gotta focus on that demon knowledge thing, okay? It might help ya!"

I just did a 'eeeeghhhh' sound, not a yes or no. But mainly, I'm saying no. I don't want demonic knowledge to earn my strength. I would rely on stuff that do not predate from those infernal bastards. Arcane magic? Sure. Elemental magic? I'm game. Holy Magic? Hell yeah. Demon magic? I say Fuck off.

Demon, if you're still in me right now and you could hear me, I'm going to fuck you up so hard that you will ever regret entering my body. Do you hear me!? YOU'RE DEAD! JUST WAIT FOR IT!

I wish I could see the bastard right now. I bet that if I sleep, I'll see him in my dreams. Oh ho ho, when I see him I'm gonna fucking beat the absolute shit out of him, in ways that I'll ever enjoy doing that I cannot do in the waking world. Oh, I'm so excited. I know how to get very livid dreams, and I sure as hell know to deal with any nightmare that gets to me! The main thing that happened in those kind of dreams is that I raped every monster that ever wanted to terrorize me! That place is my world, my domain, and everything else inside it is my bitch! I'm top dog, no one else is!

I AM A FUCKING GOD!

I took a deep breath…..then I exhale, [hhaaaaaaaaaaa…] Loved the mist that came out of my mouth. My body's cooling really good thanks to this book, and I don't feel so hot anymore.

Haaaa…this is a nice moment of rest. After all that has happened from the moment I woke up this night, this was bliss. It ain't the rainy night tucked under a warm blanket but feeling tired and cooling down after a lot of muscle-work? Close enough.

"Nice spell card, by the way."

I opened my eyes and I see Marisa smiling at me. I could see that she was impressed, by the looks of it. And there's also the fact that she's also the second best human Youkai Exterminator in all of Gensokyo; hearing her compliment my work is more than a treat, and it fills me with pride. [Thanks.]

"It sure was a hell of a spell card-ze." She remarked, rolling to her side as she kept her eyes on me, "Was it you who thought it up?"

I see what you did there, Marisa.

I nodded in confirmation, [Yeah, it was me.] Certainly was, one of the fewer things I could remember during that clusterfuck. Even though my memories are so hazy and vague, I had the gut feeling that the demon was not really inclined to use Spell Cards. Bastard clearly wanted to just burn Marisa alive. [While I was…uh…possessed…I got a moment to be coherent when you blasted me with a big laser. What was the spell card called again? I kinda forgot.]

She looked up to recall, "Uh, I think it was called….oh yeah, 'Second Coming—The Lake of Fire'." Ah, it rang a bell. That's gotta be the one. "Where'd you get that from, eh?"

Oh, a chance to tell a bible reference. Ooh, so exciting~

[That's gonna require a little storytellin' so you lie back on your ice spot and don't you dare fall asleep! This is not a bedtime story!]

"Ha ha hahahaha…!" Even as she chuckled, she did relax herself on frozen reclining table, "I hear ya. So, fire away. What's this Lake of Fire thingy? Is it a lava lake with a lava Youkai living in it?"

Okay, that made me laugh. [Hehe, no-ho. It's much more deeper than that.] Lemme just adjust my position here….ah, there we go. [In my religion, Christianity, we have our own spiritual enemies. While you guys got Youkai as both a spiritual enemy and a general monster, us Christians are against what you call a uh…"Akuma". Compared to the ones you have here, our demons are way worse.]

She turned to me with an inquisitive eye, "Is that so? How bad are these…demons?"

[You can compare 'em to really seductive creatures. They are so beautiful that you literally fall into their trap and end up doing things you weren't supposed to do.]

"Li'e what?"

My lips pursed at the few things that came to mind as I remembered a couple demon stories back to my head, [Cheating on a wife. Stealing from your friend. Leaving a sibling to die in the cold. Fall into selfishness and leave your friends to rot.]

"So yer basically sayin' they're the cause of bad character as yer religion puts it?"

…..

[In a way, yeah.] I nodded, [But me? Nah, I don't believe that demons make people do bad things. That's just an excuse for people to not take responsibility for themselves. Humans are inherently evil to begin with, they don't need demons to be evil.]

Marisa really scrutinized me hard with her eyes when I said that.

[Or that's what I believe.] I added, stretching my neck to cause a rattle of bones. [You follow your own beliefs, I'll believe in mine.]

"Y'know…." Marisa began, her voice a little…solemn?

I wait for her to finish.

"….you aren't wrong…."

Hmm…..

Then she snapped back to being that bright and annoying witch girl that I knew since the day I met her, "Hey, aren't we goin' a bit off-topic here? I thought we're s'pposed to talk about the card and its backstory-ze."

[Oh, right. Hehe.] That was embarrassing, I got too enthusiastic in sharing my belief. [Anyway, about the Christian demons, they are, like, the sworn enemies of our faith and they are bound to be eradicated as spoken by a Prophecy.]

"Hmm…" She hummed in interest, "What prophecy?"

[Well, a time in which our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, shall descend from the Heaven and every demon that exists will be condemned to eternal damnation in Hell, which is called…] Come on, Marisa, fill up the rest. I'm leaving the blank for you to answer.

"The Lake of Fire."

That's right! [Exactly. That time is called the 'Second Coming', which I doubt will be happening any sooner. Probably not in a few hundred years, if the people in the Outside World do not lose their spirituality.]

Now for the reason why I made that into a spell card:

[You see here: due to that bastard inside me, I thought of the many things that'll happen to it once I get myself together.] I smirked here, [Apparently, I thought of the one place I'll be sending that bastard to. I turned that into a spell card because I thought that by making a representation of the prophecy, I'd be able to flush out the demon inside me by scaring it and get my sense of self back.]

"Huh." Marisa just huh'ed me, "You used a spell card….that was meant to attack me….to attack the demon inside of you?"

Yeah, that's pretty much the reason why I'm smiling right now, [I know. It's ironic, right?] The fucking thing was a gamble, I wasn't even sure if it would work, [I used the meaning of the spell card against me, or the demon—]

"Yeah! Yeah, I get it-ze." She cut me off, then she gave me an appraising smile, "What you just made…is a real Spell Card, Eman. It ain't just about the firepower, it's all about the history, meanin', or emotion you put behind it. That's the one thing about being 'Beautiful'. Take mah card, for example." Whoa, she made a spell card appear out of her hand like a card trick, "Love Sign—Master Spark. Anybody that got hit with this ends up being mah friends. Y'know, with the power of love."

Pppffftt.

[PPhhaahahahahahahahaha!]

"Hey! Quit laughin'! That's how mah Spell Card is s'pposed to work-da ze!"

[I know! I know! It's just that….] Ahem, [It's just that it all makes sense to me now! The entire gist of a spell card, I get it now! Ahahahahaha!] The brilliance of everything was actually impressive. Why does this place that doesn't make way for Common Sense keep having aspects of it that make perfect sense?

She hummed in approval to me, "Pretty cool, eh?"

Okay, I calmed down now. No more laughing, [Yeah, really cool. Not just the emotion part but also cool-looking patterns of danmaku and sick moves could count as beautiful, right?]

"That's right!" She thumped her thigh as a punctuation, "If it ain't flashy, it ain't danmaku-ze!"

Flashy?

….oh, I get you now.

[That's your general style, right? Being flashy and looking good to fill the beautiful aspect of the Spell Card System.]

"Exactly! You caught on real fast 'bout the Spell Card System, dude. Looks like yer ready for a real Spell Card Battle now! And ya got yerself a Card too, no more bleedin' for you anymore-ze!"

I agree. I SUPER agree with you, Marisa, my friend. With this Spell Card, I no longer have to worry about bleeding in a fight ever again. I'm SO excited!

[I agree. Can't wait for the next time!] Then I brought a fist close to me and examined it. When I was possessed, I lit my hand on fire and began firing fireballs and flamethrowers with it. I could remember that. Could I possibly do it again? [Lemme just figure out how to make that fireball thing again, then I'm ready.]

"Y'know me! I'll be waitin'-ze!" Thanks. "Trainin's still open, remember that!"

Gotcha!

…..…..…..…..

…..…..…..…..…..…..

…..…..would it count as relying on the demon knowledge just so I could light my hand on fire? I already sworn off using whatever that bastard had used the sooner I was conscious. He nearly made me kill my friend. But….would it be considered demonic knowledge when all that power came from that one book?

"Hey, Eman!"

Yike! Way to jolt me out of my head, Marisa! You nearly made me jump out of my spot! [Geez, Marisa, you scared the hell out of me.]

"What's gonna be yer style on the beauty thing?"

She ignored what I just said. This woman….goodness…

….just like me. Hehe, I like her more.

Anyway, about her question….hmm…..my style on the beauty aspect of danmaku and spell card….? I wonder…..

"I'm gonna say that yer on the emotion thing." She suggested.

Whuh?

I raised an eyebrow, [What do you mean, "emotion thing"?]

"Y'know: Raw emotion. Anger, passion, euphoria, ecstasy, rage; I'm sayin' that you'll apply yer emotions to the play. Usin' yer feelings to fight, turning them into hot fire!"

…..that…..actually made sense.

[I'm gonna agree with ya on that one.] Oh shit, there's suddenly an itch on my neck. Did it react when I recalled the firefight between me and Marisa? [The entire time I was fightin' ya, I was pissed beyond reason, right?]

"Yiiiep." She answered with her arms crossed. "Kept growlin' all over the place. Yer face was fuckin' red like a tomato! You were definitely pissed the fuck out of yer mind-da ze. The fires ya made sure sayz somethin' about yer feelings."

I chuckled, [So what? I have to be frickin' pissed the entire fucking time just so I could make those fires?] Am I going to be a fucking berserker?

She just gave me a big smirk, full of expectations and excitement, saying nothing.

[Right, thank you.] Appreciate your comment on that one, Ms. Marisa Kirisame, I will adjourn our talk right here and now. As to that, let us relax on our reclining tables and try to rest out our exhaustion.

Hmm….

Maybe the berserker thing could work for me. Meiling did say that I use my emotions in a fight, mainly rage. Even before I got to Gensokyo, I've been doing the same strategy. Whenever I get caught in a hate-fight and not a play-fight, my body kept itching from a hot fire building up inside my body because it had come to that. Silent anger or full-out raging and screaming, I barely remembered a time when I fought calmly against somebody who didn't like me. I find doing that quite difficult. I have issues on certain people who just skip into the fist fight instead of talking it out. There's no way I could be calm amidst all that bullshit. It just keeps reminding me that humans are starting to act like animals, no longer using their human reasoning and submitting to their emotional urges quite easily.

*Cough! Cough!*

Damn it. Screaming and growling during that firefight might not have been a good thing to do. [Damn, my throat is dry.] I rasped, coughing even more afterwards.

"You were screamin' half the fuckin' time on the battle, dude."

[I know. I'm gonna take a shut eye for a bit.] So sleepy. Now'd better be a good time to take a break. And by 'break', I mean 'Sleep'. Fucking SLEEP! PLEASE LET ME HAVE IT! I swear to God if something interrupts me again—ESPECIALLY YOU, MARISA—I will immediately go apeshit!

Stroking my hand on the page of the winter book, feeling a dry-ice surface, my fingers immediately going numb (this thing's literally full of blizzard hell), I closed my eyes, relaxed on the broken table and eased my muscles. Shirtless and in a cold environment (thanks to this book); deep and lucid dreams, here I come.

…..

…..

…..

*Kling. Kling. Kling. Kling. Kling.*

Motherfucker.

I opened my eyes to Marisa, she looked back at me with an exasperated look, with a touch of looking a bit nervous. I gave her an eye roll and slumped back to my position, looking unbothered and just done with it. I'm just straight-up annoyed. Is it me or does this house has a problem with me trying to sleep in peace? I seriously think that that was the case. Scarlet Devil Mansion, if you're conscious and actually hearing my thoughts: FUCK YOU!

*Kling. Kling. Kling. Kling. Kling.*

Patiently. Patiently.

Marisa and I kept our eyes towards the source of the sound that's coming closer and closer. She and I, we're practically in the same position and angle as the other, Flandre will eventually appear in-between us, and we placed all our attention to her.

There goes the red shoes, the pale skin of the ankles that nearly merged together with the white socks. We raised our view upwards and there she was, holding….2 bronze pitchers in each hand?

…..

…She's just standing there, unsure of what to do now that she's between us. Marisa and I kept our eye on her, waiting for what's next. Also, what're those pitchers for?

"Um…." Flandre glanced to me before looking away.

I arched an eyebrow.

"Uh…" Then she took a little look towards Marisa before looking at the floor.

Marisa raised an eyebrow. "Somethin' wrong, Flan?"

"Um….would you…uh…" She began, turning towards me.

I drew one leg close to me, still staring at her with patience and neutrality.

"Uuhh…" She fidgeted in place, her cherry eyes barely able to stay looking at me for at least a single second. She extended the pitcher in her right hand to me, "Would you like water, Mister Eman?"

I frowned, my throat rumbling unconsciously in a growl. Despite my apprehension, I took the offering from the handle but carefully without touching her fingers—

Oh my.

This thing's loaded. My hand nearly fell to the floor because of how unexpectedly full and heavy it is. The way she held it made look like there's barely anything in it. Fucking vampire strength.

Instead of giving the other pitcher to Marisa like I expected her to, she held it with both hands and looked at me expectantly.

Marisa's looking at me like she's expecting me to be the taker of whatever the hell Flandre put in this thing. Way to support me.

Looking down on it, it looks clear….and it smells like water. Not falling for that though.

[What did you put in this?] I asked warily.

She was surprised for my asking, "Um, nothing. It's just water."

I frowned even further, [I thought vampires can't touch water.]

She shook her head, bleached ponytail swishing, "Uh uh. I can touch them but…" She looked around uncomfortably, "…it'll just weaken me. I can't cross running water though."

Oh really…..?

Let's see how you react on this. [Why are you giving this to us?]

Instead of a nervous fidget or an uncomfortable shifting, she's giving me a sad frown, as if she was questioning why I asked such a thing. Then she tried to wear a disarming smile, "Because…you are tired, right? You and Marisa were playing danmaku and there were a lot of fires and you both looked sweaty and exhausted. I thought you both were thirsty so I went out to get water. I tried to find a fairy or goblin but everybody was sleeping so I had to do it myself since it'd be bad manners to wake them up so….yes. That's why."

…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..…..Just that?

Marisa and I shared a confused/questioning glance. The two of us were not expecting this, like, at all. Looking back at Flandre's face one more time, I turned my attention back to my pitcher.

I rested it on top of the winter book: It instantaneously did the condensation process, moisture picking up on the thingy.

Gulping, I drew the freezing pitcher close to my lips, then I let the cold liquid slip inside my mouth. It's very cold. I'm surprised it didn't freeze up.

Then I *gulp*

…

….‼!‼

POUR IT DOWN ON ME!‼!‼

Up and over, I made the thing pour down all its contents on my mouth. I don't care if I end up spilling it all over my face or chest! This fucking thing is water! COLD WATER! I've been fighting fire with fire the whole fight, my throat needs to be watered, and I'm horribly dehydrated! I DESERVE THIS THING!

*Gulp!* [Aahhh!] That was heaven to my tongue and throat! Thank You, Lord, for the concept of cold and water!

Okay, time to do the fucking deed:

I shot up to my feet, the winter book slipping off my lap and into the floor with a thick thud, crusting a little of the charred carpet with ice.

"Eep!" Flandre flew a few steps backwards in surprise.

Then I pour it down on my head! [YeeeaaaaaaAAAAAAGGGGHHHHH!‼!] COLD! FUCKING COLD! CAN'T STOP JUMPING IN PLACE! [WOOOOOO! HOOOOHOHOHOHOHO! COLD!]

"Gimme it, Flan!" I heard Marisa say something but I didn't pay attention. I'm trying to take a bath here!

"E-hey!"

"And that book too, Eman!" That I heard so here ya go!

*Kick!* I kicked the book and it slid towards her foot. There ya go, go nuts.

Just by stomping on its edge, it bounced upwards to her head's level and she got it with one hand before placing the pitcher near it. There goes the condensation. She throws the book over her shoulder like it's trash and then….

*Gulp! Gulp! Gulp! Gulp! Gulp! Gulp!*

Okay, she's guzzling it like Suika with a bottle o' booze.

"Aaahh!"

Alright, she's finished drinking and I think there's still some more in it.

"Back away, Flan, cuz this is gonna…"

She held the thing over her head as Flandre understood what she was implying and flew away before….

*SPLASSSSHHHHHHHH!*

"AAAAAAAAAGGGGGHHHHH!‼!‼!‼!‼!‼" Then she began jumping in place, shaking like fucking hell, dropping the pitcher to the floor with a loud clang.
Who the hell said it was a nice idea for you to have an ice bath? You look like you barely take one once every month in your life. Me? I take them almost regularly. Sorry but I don't like to shower with warm water, and I don't like bathing with a showerhead. Not that I hate them (I love Hot Springs, thank you very much), I just don't prefer to use them. It just makes me distant from my proper identity as a Filipino. We don't bother with artificial hot water, and a majority of us don't use showerheads.

"Whoo! Ho! Ho! Co-co-co-cold!" Geez, she's already shuddering. "Didn't thi-think that it would be tha-that cold-ze!"

[Feels great, right?] Couldn't stop myself from smirking like a bitch at the sight of Marisa's vulnerable self. She's usually so energetic and on fire that it's really getting overrated. [One of the fewest things I remember is that you were sweatin' like hell in our fight, I figured all that ice water might be heaven for you, hehehehe.]

She shot me a hard glare, golden hair sopping wet and sticking to her ash-smudged face, "How come yer not shiverin' like hell, eh!? Are ya activatin' some kinda heating spell or somethin'?"

Wow, assuming.

[I'm born on a country that doesn't know snow but regularly use cold water in a bath early in the morning, d'you really think something like this could set me off?] There's also the fact that I've been living on the streets for a long time, there ever a time I bathed or at least washed myself with warm water? No.

"Shut up! I shouldn't have used the book!"

Hey, was your fault for taking it, not mine.

I patted her wet shoulder before I walked a couple steps away, shaking my head to whip out some water.

Hmm, there's still some ash on my head. There's no mirror around here for me to see what kind of state am I really in right now either.

I can't believe I'm considering it but….I'm wanting to borrow a showerhead in this mansion just to get all this ash off me.

Once in a while won't hurt anybody.

*Kling. Kling.*

Then everything got stiff, at least a little bit. The fun of looking at Wet Marisa or listening to her shiver is no longer present. I turned around and I faced Flandre once again.

"Shouldn't you both take a shower if you were going to do that?"

Marisa and I shared a grimaced glance, she looked lost as to what to do now that she's here.

I just sighed, lowering my head and kneading my forehead. After just a few seconds, I wiped my hand downwards to my chin, wiping off the wetness and I looked at Flandre directly in her cherry red eyes.

I think it's time to address this. Anymore delays and this'll only complicates things with her.

...She's not reacting to the silver crucifix. Hmm...odd.

[Do you hate me, Flandre?] I asked firmly, crossing my arms, making sure I didn't hide my necklace.

She blinked, "Why do you ask?"

No reaction at all. She doesn't even shy away in the face of God. Common demons would have. Is the crucifix weakness of vampires false too?

Alright, no more of that. She asked me a question. [You know why: I stabbed you in the eye and I gouged the other one out. Do you hate me for that?] I asked, the cold bravado on.

She gasped, eyes wide before wearing an uncomfortable expression, frowning and unable to look at me. Her hands crumpled to fists too, her lips pursing at the memory. When she looked back at me, it looked conflicted between bitterness and sympathy, "That wasn't you."

I raised an eyebrow, [Excuse me?]

"It wasn't Mister Eman who took my eyes out, it was Mister Demon. Your eyes were black when you attacked me, and your voice got growly too."

I frowned, [That's impossible. If that had been the case, I wouldn't have remembered it.]

"But you weren't yourself." She insisted, but her eyes are saying something else, "You wouldn't have done that."

[Do you even believe that?] I think I have just enough of her trying to deny it, in front of my face at that. I have issues with that, I really do, [In case you didn't know, I fully intended it. I purposely stabbed and gouged your eyes out. Even if you say I was black-eyed, I was still myself, and I still did it.]

Her body shook real hard with frustration and anger, her lips pursed and quivering, it also looked like she was holding back tears, I could already see them welling up in her eyes right now…red tears.

Typical.

She steadily floated down to place her feet on the ground, eyes downcast. Marisa, who's been lost as to what to do since the entire thing started, finally did something: stepping close behind the kid and laying a comforting hand on her shoulder. Marisa still looked apprehensive but still remained on the spot, and Flandre didn't have any objections either.

When just one tear slid down her cheek, leaving a red trail on her pale skin, she turned her glistening red eyes to me once again and….

"…..it's my fault…."

Too soft. Way too soft, I barely heard it…but I could guess what she had just said, and my eyes widened from it.

"…..I lost control." She mumbled, rubbing her thumb all over other hand in front of her waist, "…even though you forgave me, I still attacked you….you did it out of self-defense." Then her expression was falling to a resigned look, as if she had closure to something, "…it's my fault it happened. I attacked first."

Sigh…..Motherfucker.

I placed a hand to my face, frowning. I hate myself. I really hate myself. I seriously do. Why am I this way? How did I end up like this? Why? Why!?

[Hhhhrrrggghhh…..!] A rumbling growl broke out of my throat as I pinched the middle of my nose. {Yawaa ani e!} I irritably wiped my face with that hand. The two of them looked at me with a tiny bit of apprehension, they probably thought I was going mad because of the growl (and prolly the lapse of language).

One hand in my pocket, I shook my head and stepped closer to the kid. Once she was in touching distance, I slightly raised a hand, then I laid it on top of her mobcap head.

Poofy. That's what my hand felt her hat.

"Eh?"

I roughly ruffled it, her head swaying side to side from my grip, earning a squeaky grunt from her. Then I trailed my hand down to her unkempt side-ponytail (smooth, why am I not surprised?). As I reached the end of the bleached blonde locks, it quickly fell down to its original place.

Again, my one mind just can't set itself on one mindset. Either I think of this kid as a monster or a kid with a lack of self-control, I just can't maintain on one thing. Is this the reason why I couldn't hold a grudge on somebody who is mean to me at first but suddenly becomes nice to me the next day?

If I didn't consider myself already fallen into the deep end due to the isolation of two years, I'd be willing to consider myself having a mental impairment in the emotional department of my brain.

I slowly lowered myself down, then I sat cross-legged in front of her, the cold bravado now gone and simply into a neutral one, a bit softer one. Eye to eye with her, I spoke, [How bad is your self-control, hm?]

She instantly had her eyes downcast, I noticed Marisa giving her a comforting squeeze on her shoulder. "….bad.." Again, your voice is too soft. "…even if I see just a tiny bit of blood, I lose myself. I just get so thirsty that I can't help it…." She turned to me, then her eyes roamed all over my body before going downcast. I looked and—oh my, I forgot that she scratched me all over in that hallway. "…I'm sorry."

Fucking….!

Just looking at her gnaws me on the inside….!

I traced a finger across the cauterized scratches, especially the gashes on my chest left by a claw.

"…if you don't mind me asking…." She began, voice still pathetically soft. "…who did that to you?"

…..

…..…..…..

What the hell….?

[….pardon?]

She pointed a tiny finger to my chest, "…the…ssscratches…who did that?" Wait, what? What—what's going on? "I heard you screaming in the hallway earlier, you sounded like you were attacked."

[Wait, stop. Stop.] Just hold a fucking minute here, [Are you saying that you did not do this?] I gestured to the scratches all over me. [Are you saying that somebody else had been doing it?]

She shook her head, "I think so. I mean, I wouldn't do such a thing. It would be a bad thing to do to a guest. I would've come over to help you but I…..I…" There goes the shaming look again, "…I smelt your….blood and…"

[Okay, stop.] I held a hand up, [I get it.] I'm really starting to get sick of this kid being shameful of herself, even if it was justified. The fact that I want to be angry at her just to rub it in but could not doesn't help. [Tell me, did you hear the scratches on the walls and the jingling when you heard me screaming?]

What the? You look genuinely surprised, "N-no! I swear I wasn't there!" She looked very earnest here, "I mean I heard one when I was walking around, like somebody was scratching the walls but that's it. I couldn't see who it was, I tried to find out and then I heard you screaming. I didn't hear anything else, just screaming. No scratching or jingling."

…..wait..

There's still this. [One last question, and I need you to answer this with all your honesty, okay?]

She nodded, ponytail swishing, "Big sister said it's bad to lie."

You sass about her so much earlier, and now you talk like you love her so much you listen to whatever she says, [Can you….dim your gems' light?]

Her eyes widened at that, she glanced at Marisa before turning to her wings, angling her right wing forward to show us the priceless gems, dangling like Christmas lights, "No. I can't control them. They just shine all the time. I don't think I could dim them. I mean, I never tried to but I don't think it's possible."

I frowned, then I turned to Marisa, [Do you believe her?]

"U-uh…" She sputtered over being addressed suddenly, "Ye-yeah, as much as I know."

…..…..…..

…..…..…..…..…..

She's a bit talkative. Her childish mentality could guarantee that.

Her lights can't dim, that's assured. They can only brighten, I saw it happen.

She attacked when I bled. She never got hostile before I got myself injured (besides the first time she saw me but it can be excused).

She had small self-control, but she has manners. At least that's what I know.

Her sincerity is real. That much I could fully confirm as a genuine fact about her (because I know), but her vampire instincts get in the way of that.

.…..…..…..…..…..

[Someone else did it.]

"Eh? Um…what?"

I shot up my stare towards her, [You really did not give me these scratches?]

She shook her head again, this time vigorously, "No! I wouldn't without a reason!"

[Then that settles it. Someone else had been there.]

"Um, guys?" Finally, Marisa decides to interject. I've been wondering if she's going to stay silent the whole time, "I'm kinda thinkin' that whoever attacked Eman is tryin' to make everythin' that happened afterwards…happen.]

Wha…?

[Come again?]

"Dude, think about it." Um, I can't. I think you should be elaborating this, "Eman, what happened while you were attacked?"

The muscles on my face suddenly contorted and it made me look like I just sneered. The memory of that incident….fucking terrifying. It was dark, I couldn't measure how hurt I was, and I was helpless. It was almost traumatic. [I kept hearing cackling and jingling, and whoever was there kept scratching me all over. I couldn't see anything, I was fooled that I thought I was going to die…..]

…..Wait a fucking minute….

In the dark where I couldn't see.

The injuries were not severe, but thanks to the darkness I didn't know that and instead panicked.

My blood seeped out of the wounds, and that triggered Flandre's feral side…

….….….

When Flandre came from that hallway and chased after me, she did not sound like she had been with me the whole time. She sounded like she had just arrived.

"I think yer startin' to get it now, dude."

I nodded, fist clenched and lips pursed. [Whoever that was….it wanted me to be scared, down to the point where I wouldn't trust Flandre anymore. Those jingles…now that I think about it…] They didn't sound the same way Flandre's crystals do. Lemme confirm that, [Excuse me, Flandre.]

"Wha-what are you doing?" She asked, taking just one step back as I approached her.

[I'm going to check something, now I need you to hold still.] Now let me position myself around your back here. [I won't do anything, I just need to….] I brushed my hand across all 7 crystals on her right twig wing.

*Kling. Kling. Kling. Kling. Kling. Kling. Kling.*

…Motherfucker.

I stood back up and moved back to her front, [It wasn't her. Whoever it was, it was trying to make me think it was Flandre who did it. When I got scratched, the smell must've messed Flandre's senses and made her go out of control.] I faced Marisa, she was taking in everything I said with a full grimaced look, [It wanted me to go mad. It wanted me to be possessed. I'm getting the idea that if I ever come close to getting angry, the demon inside me gets ahold of me.]

This could only lead to…

[It wanted me to kill Flandre.]

Marisa's eyes hardened at that, placing a hand across Flandre's back to comfort her, "Or….it wanted Flandre to kill you. Whichever it is, whoever's doin' it is doin' a good job of hiding tracks."

Agreed. You're absolutely right.

[I remembered earlier that Meiling shouted the word "Intruder" and ran out the door.] I think this could be it.

Flandre gasped, tiny hands coming up to her mouth, "You…you mean…"

Yep. Exactly. Marisa, you getting me?

"There's someone here wantin' to kill you…" She turned to Flandre. "…or her."

There's also this, [At a time when Remilia, Sakuya and Patch aren't around? Yep, I think the bastard who's doing this is taking this opportunity to strike when the defenses are weak. Could be using the storm as a good camouflage, I don't think even Meiling could spot anybody passing by through all that hell.]

Whoa, Marisa, you're looking real worried now, "You think that guy's here right now?"

[That's the issue.] Look at this place, for example, [Even if that guy's here, this library is too large. Could be hiding anywhere. Could jump out at any turn of a corner.]

Then she drew a sharp breath and blew it all out, looking all over the place, looking for that motherfucker, "Oh boy…"

Okay, what're we gonna do here?

"Mmmmm…"

Um, Flandre what're you doing?

She had her hands in front of her chest and curled them into fists, her eyes were closed and it looked like she was concentrating hard. There was a blurring outline coming from her too, and I'm getting the feathery feeling of magic starting to roll all over my hand and face. I think she's trying to do something. I backed away just in case, Marisa followed suite.

…..

.…..…..whoa…

She's…..cloning…

I thought her wings were starting to multiply but when I saw her arms, feet, and even side-ponytail dividing too, that wasn't it. She's cloning. One Flandre jumped out behind her. Flandre number 2 skipped forward out of her, looking disoriented. Then Flandre the III took the air from Original Flandre's head.

Holy shit.

I can't believe that just happened. She just cloned herself!

I can't believe that was actually a thing. A vampire could clone!

This is overkill! All this is too mind-blowing!

"Okay, I want you to go outside and find the baddy."

"Roger!"

"And you, I want you to search the library."

"Okeydokey!"

"And you, I want you to protect me and Mister Eman there."

"Protect me and Mister Eman, okay!"

Something nudged me on the side, "Surprised?" It was Marisa, and she was loving the way I looked right now: gaping-mouthed and wide-eyed.

…..

Marisa closed my open mouth and that made me able to respond properly, [Very.] Whoo, boy. Holy hell, that was….NOT what I expected her to do. I can't believe that was possible. I understand that it's fucking Gensokyo but…still!

I reached for my head and combed the wet locks with my fingers, [Damn….that was new.]

"Hehe." She nudged me some more. "That's just the tip of the iceberg of what's 'round here-ze."

[You don't have to tell me.] Geez, Marisa. You just have to make it even worse by stating the obvious. What else Gensokyo has that I have not seen yet, I probably won't be able to see it coming, even if I try all of my hardest to imagine.

"Something wrong, Mister Eman?"

Hm?

Oh, it's Flandre and her twin. Holy shit, look at 'em both. If I didn't know any better, I would'a thought she was standing beside a mirror. They both look extremely alike. The facial expression and everything, even the hair. Though, vampires had no reflection so mirror thing's moot at this point.

I wore a wan smile, [Flandre, I didn't know you had 3 other sisters.]

They looked at each other and giggled. Damn, holy shit, looking at these two is so weird. They look so fucking alike. [[Surprise~~!]] They said in perfect unison, in English too. I like it.

"Hi! I'm Flandre."

"Hello, I'm Flandre."

Then the two giggled again, high-fiving.

I couldn't stop myself from giggling too, these two are very amusing to watch. [Which one of you two's the real Flandre?]

They looked at each other again, grinned deviously and began to giggle (borderline cackle). The fact that they're doing it together just makes all too creepy. They interlocked right elbows and began to spin around in a circle, wings jingling and the cackle/giggle orchestra going all over the place.

Then they stopped, one twirled around until they both faced on one side, interlocked arms again, then they began skipping forward….towards me.

""Lalalalalala~ Lalala~ Lalalalalalalala~~""

This is so creepy! Much worse than The Shining!

It took nearly all of my control not to take a step back as they neared me, then went around me. I kept them in my sight, their jingling wings never going anywhere so long as I looked at them. Their singing is just too creepy that I can't trust them being behind me where I can't see them.

While I was spinning around to keep up with their pace, I noticed that Marisa's just standing back, chillin', giving the two an amused…and a creeped-out look. I can see why Marisa's nervous around her.

After 2 more revolutions around me, the two skipped back to their original spot, twisted around to the direction in-between them and faced me once again, giving me sweet fanged smiles, [[Guess!]]

Oh, so we're playing this game, eh?

Alright, I'll bite.

…Should never bring that out verbally in front of a vampire…ever.

[Hmm…] Thinking pose, thinking pose; one arm across the abdomen to hold the elbow, other hand reaching up to touch the chin. Loading….loading…

Is it…..

[You.] Left Flandre.

"Yay!" She clapped happily, "You got it!"

"Wait, no!" Wait, what? "It's me! I'm the real Flandre! Mister Eman, pick me! She's just a clone!"

"No, pick me! I'm the real one!"

"Me!"

"Me!"

"No, it's me!"

"Me!"

"Oh yeah!? In what way are you real? I'm the pretty one here!"

"Your hairs all messy and frizzled! My ponytail's still beautiful!"

"Your skirts ripped! Look at me, I'm the prettier one here!"

"Your dress is all crumpled! I bet Mister Eman wouldn't look at you long enough! He's been looking at me the whole time!"

"No way! He's been looking at me since I created you!"

"What are you talking about!? I created you!"

"No, me!"

"Me!"

"Me!"

I slowly looked over my shoulder, gesturing to the two with a hand and gave a wimpy smile to Marisa. 'Are these two for real?'

She just shrugged, returning the wimpy smile. 'Pretty much.'

*Grab*

COLD!

What!? What!?

"Hey, Mister Eman! Let's play a game!"

*Grab*

COLD! Wait, why're you holding my other hand, Flandre the II? I thought you two were going at it a couple seconds ago?

"Yeah! Let's go over there!" She pointed to the main reading area, the part with the tables. Quite far but I could take it. "It's too tight around here. C'mon!"

[A-ah, hey!] Too late, I can't get a say since these two are already pulling me.

Flandre the II looked behind her, suddenly disappeared, the grip on my right hand relieved and—

"O-oy! What're you—Flan!?"

"Join in, Ms. Marisa!"

Oh….well, at least I'm not alone on this one so the kid won't hear me complainin'.

I don't normally say it but….thank You, Lord, for the big amount of stamina I get to have in my suffering of 2 years.

Even after the firefight battle, I'm still primed for a little game with these two little moonlights. Playing while under the danger of being assassinated. It kinda works as a way to make the assassin careless since we are not on our guard, but Flandre secretly is, and her other sisters are watching out for us too. I think I could oblige in some childish play while the bastard gets lured in.

I just hope these two don't ask for anything too extreme for me….!

~~~~~ « ҉ » ~~~~~

Not too extreme? I guess such a thing's kinda too much to ask, 'specially in a fucking place like Gensokyo.

"Yeah! Howz it goin' on yer side, Eman!?"

[Would you please focus on your own battle!? Geez!]

This kid's got a pretty morbid way of defining fun. Can't say that it's unexpected and quite bothering, her species considered, but still….I'm very off-put.

"Make fires! C'mon! Go angry or somethin' and make a blaze! Ain't ya the emotion-trigger pyromancer!?"

[We have not made that title official yet! I ain't—whoa!—no pyromancer if I can't cast it right!]

Started out as innocent. Perfectly child-friendly. A rather unfair game of hide and seek, considering her good sense of smell. A rather fair game of tag, she kept her running speed as slow as possible that it matches her childlike frame, didn't even fly too. Marisa and I even bothered to compete against each other in acrobats, much to the delight of the two kiddies, and myself. Competition in these kinds of games is my cuppatea.

"Then do the subconscious thing!"

[What 'subconscious thing'!? Hey! Watch it! You nearly clipped my head there, kid!]

Then everything came down to the final game for the night.

'Play danmaku with us!'

Should I not have said yes?

"Hehe! Sorry! Yah!"

"Oof! Urgh! Why're you so strong!?"

"Why are you so funny when you fight, Mister Eman!?"

Well, it could've been worse.

[Yeeeeiiiiiiiiiiii!]

"Ahahahahahahahahaha! Come back here!"

She could've used a lot of destructive power in the fight, but she had a trait that I could easily like her for.

"The 'Subconscious thing', Eman! Use the heat of the moment to remember how you did it!"

[What!?]

"Yah!"

[Whoa! Flandre—Hey!]

"Hihihihihi!"

She is a very fair girl. She's placing some limits on her power to keep me on even grounds with her. She's fighting with her physical abilities, right on my level.

"Sometimes ya gotta feel it, brah! Not think it! Remember the way ya felt when ya blew a fireball-ze!"

[Is that even—AY!]

"Oogh! I missed!"

It's safe to say that I am starting to like Flandre Scarlet.

[That was not funny!]

"It's supposed to be funny!?"

[If you're a guy? NO!]

Maybe the 'like' thing will be left up to debate considering that she nearly stabbed me in the balls with that life-sized wiggly…minute hand? She said it was called the Lævatein, the staff of Loki. Ain't that the Norse trickster god? Last I've heard of him, he was falling for half an hour inside the portal.

I kinda have questions. For one, is that even the actual thing? Is it supposed to look like that?

"Ya!"

Oh shit! Whoa! Duck under that!

Then I rolled backwards on the floor and run somewhere else, running up a shelf and climbing up to stand atop it.

"Hey!"

And Flandre instantly gets to the same area as me just a few feet away, holding her weapon. Seriously, how could I block perfectly with my fucking butter knife against that club?

[Hi.] I greet you.

Then I bolt towards her, knife at the ready.

She wore a smile, holding the staff with both hands, eager to meet my strike with her own.

Here goes nothing…!

Sliding sweep kick—not!

She fell for it. She made for a mid-air float will trying to hit the area she thought I was gonna go to, right beneath her legs. I actually jumped to the air, doin' a little Webster flip, and slammed both my feet to her torso.

*Bak!*

[Oof!]

It's a hit! And I did not fall off the fucking shelf! Wow! I landed on my back! I ACTUALLY EXECUTED THE WEBSTER DROP KICK!

Which is still painful! Fuck, I felt the edges on that…!

[Ack…!] I sat up, gritting my teeth and rubbing my back. [Ow, never gonna do that again….!]

Okay. I quickly clambered downwards to the floor, let go at the height of 8 feet and rolled on impact. As I thought of Flandre to do, she was standing right there fine and dandy, waiting for me to come down instead of going after me while I was vulnerable. She's so honorable.

Right as I was only a couple feet away, I asked, [How many now?]

"Um…" She looked to the ceiling, holding her chin. "Oh! 5 for me and 3 for you."

Only 3 hits? She hits me 5 more times, I'm done. I'll be out of the game! Damn it with all them vampire perks. They can't get me an easy hit on her. I can't go wild either, that'll just draw out the bastard into me.

If I could just figure out how to draw the fire into my hands again…

….but then again, that'll be no different than me being a demon! Using demonic knowledge…

….but I remember that the bastard had to read a book to be able to cast fire…

….does that mean that it isn't from the bastard if I invoke fire…?

Would I just be putting all the bastard had known from using me as a vessel into—

"Just 7 more for you, Mister Eman!"

Geez, you just had to interrupt me, kid! [What?]

"I said that if you hit me 7 more times, you win!"

Ugh. Please, don't remind me, kid. [I know. I know.] You're just rubbing it in at this point for me.

Then we fancied a little stand-off, giving each other a calculating eye and squaring our shoulders. Flandre looked a little funny at the attempt: what she lacked in body build, she compensated by curling her wings above her like a floating tiara, lights glowing and jingling. It doesn't make her look big, her unique beauty is just given a lot of emphasis.

With a stomp to the floor, I equipped the standard knife-fighter stance. She held the staff with both hands in turn.

"Ready?"

[Mm hm.] On your go, kiddo.

"Go!" And she cheated her mega-jump using flight, arching her weapon for a hammer-slam.

Just like her recent starting moves. This should be easy.

As she comes close on the downward arc and about to clobber my head, I quickly took a side-step in just a tiny distance that there's barely a feet between us as she landed, cracking the floors with her staff. My power-jumping position ready, I stiffened my legs and power-kneed her in the face!

"Whoops!" Missed. She dashed forward before I could get her.

My momentum still steaming with me, I rolled with good ease on the floor to recover back into a crouch and I did a full-sprint towards Flandre. With the momentum fully ready, I executed the corkscrew straight-up, it got to the point where my body was completely upside down on the spin, and when I landed, I was about to do a clobber maneuver with my knife.

[Hrm!] Get split in half, Flandre!

"Nope!" Oh no, she did the same dodge as me, and she's 'bout to power-knee me in the face! I can't dodge that in time! She's a vampire!

Good thing my body got some automatic reflexes.

Upon my landing, I rolled again too quickly that I end up hurting my back. Worth it, she didn't hit me. Upon standing up and the momentum gone, I full-sprinted towards her and did a side-flip kick. When I missed, I did it again. I missed the second time, why not the third time? Still missed? I did the fourth. If I missed again, why don't I keep doing this until I hit ya, kid!?

7th. 8th. 9th. 10th! 11th! 12th! Fucking hell, how many times are ya gonna let me flip, kid!? Are you purposely leading me and not moving out of the way because it looks funny or cool to you!?

Oh no, that ain't happenin'!

19th! 20th!

And double front-flip!

"Wow!"

Damn it, kid. Stop enjoyin' it! This is a fight! Not the Tournament!

[AAGGHH‼] Clobber!

Actually, no, I was just going to roll on the ground. I knew you'd get out of the way.

She back-stepped instead of side-stepping, it was a good time to do the double-horse kick.

"OOF!" Kid focused too much on her fun that she forgot about the fight and incoming surprise attacks from her enemy. Now she got sent flyin' backwards a little away, gems jingling upon impact to the floor.

That's 4 for me then.

Hup! I kip up to a stand, then she stands back as well, having a little flabbergasted face.

[Don't forget that we're fight'n', Flandre. I generally try to make sure nobody sees anything coming from me.]

"Yeah," She curtly nodded, her fangs starting to show in her smile, "Sorry, I was enjoying myself too much."

[Hey, it's fine to enjoy a play fight but try not to overdo it.] Ya wanna know why? It's because, [That's my thing.]

Oh boy, her face told me she didn't get that, "What?"

I waved her off, [Mm, nothin' too big.] People get the gratification when they land a blow on the opponent, especially me, but every hit gets me a fine dose of vigor much better than the first cuz it just gives me a damn reason to hit the other in the face and be proud of it, it even makes the satisfaction of landing the blow even sweeter. Much worse/better when I go wild from getting hit too much or couldn't hit much that the stress relief is real whenever I beat up somebody in the midst of screaming and roaring.

"Okay." She hopped a little to prep up, wings jingling and side-ponytail flopping, then she readied her weapon. "Ready?"

[Go!] Then I sprint towards her!

Why do you look so surprised? When you ask me to be ready, that means you already are!

Swiping a diagonal to her, she parried it with her weapon. I slapped her weapon upwards, leaving her open in the middle and I took advantage of it: horizontal swipe to the abdomen.

She suddenly dashed backwards, my knife slicing air. Her feet didn't even move, probably the flight again.

Damn it! Fucking, fast-moving, cheating, motherfucking cun—

Cheat!

She Cheats You!

She Will Suffer For This Insole—

*Slap! Slap!*

Calm down! Calm down, me! Calm down! Don't let that bastard get ahold of ya!

This bastard's gotta get exorcized soon! I wish morning'd come already! Or is it morning already? Wait, what about the storm outside?

*Slap! Slap!*

Focus! Focus! Vampire kiddo about to attack, charging spear jab incoming!

[Uurrghh!] Shaking my head, my cheeks stinging, I instantly executed a B-twist in a panic, and amidst that panic, I threw a downward punch in my spin just as Flandre swooped over where I was supposed to be when I was still standing.

I could not believe what I just did….

*Bak!*

….but I got her in the head.

Oof! Okay, did not do the roll and instead landed flat on my back.

She didn't lose flight and skid on the floor after getting hit, she looked like she got some turbulence, her form swaying in the air, her chest nearly sliding against the floor but she got steady and flew upwards, twisted in the air and began speeding towards me!

Okay, no stand-off starting this time!?

Waiting….

Her eyes began to glow red, a very firm expression all over her little face. She doesn't look like a kid anymore, she looked like an adult.

Waiting….!

Hiiiii! She's coming closer! I'm scared!

That sneer of hers is even more predatory. The creases on her nose are clear, and there was more sharp teeth than I could ever remember from all the Movie Vampires having.

That….is SCARY AS ALL HELL!‼

[AAAAGGHHH!‼] SIT-UP OUT OF THERE!

*BUURRGGGSSSSHHH!*

Holy shit, the floor literally exploded with dust and debris! If I was even a second too late, my head would've been nothing but fucking mush!

Panic! Panic! Adrenaline! Aaaaaaahhh! The adrenaline's rushing all over me! Shiiiiiiiiit! My body's shaking!

[WWOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH!‼!‼!‼!‼] THIS TICKLES! IT FEELS LIKE MY BODY IS CRAWLING WITH WORMS!

*KICK!* UGH! KICK THAT BOOKSHELF OVER!

"Mister Eman?"

WHAT IS IT!? OH, IT'S YOU! VAMPIRE KID CALLED FLANDLE! HERE! LEMME KILL YOU WITH THIS KNIFE! AAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!‼!

[AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!‼!‼]

"Whoa! Mister Eman, are you possessed again!?"

WHAT YOU TALKIN' ABOOT, KID!? THIS IS ME GOING APESHIT FROM AN OVERDOSE! HERE! HAVE A STAB!

[YAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYA—] I'M INSANE! I'M STABBING AND SWIPING AT YOU! EVEN THOUGH YOU'RE BLOCKING AND DODGING THEM ALL, I COULDN'T STOP STABBING AND SLICING!

"You're even faster than before! What happened to you!?" What the!? HEY, NO FLYING!

[HEY, NO FLYING OUT OF BOUNDS!] YOU COME BACK TO THE GROUND OR I'MMA SPANK THAT ASS!

"Sorry!" Then back to the ground a dozen feet away.

[AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!‼!‼] C'MERE AND LEMME KILL YA!

"I guess you're not possessed!"

[WOOOOOOOOOOOOOO—]

"Here comes the swing, Mister Eman!"

OH, BRING IT ON! JUST SWING THAT WIGGLY THING THE SOONER I COME NEAR, YOU'LL BE HAVIN' A KNIFE IN YA AFTERWARDS!

[OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO—]

HERE IT COMES, FLANDRE!

[OOOOHOOOOOOOO—]

STAB TO THE CHES—

*BOOOOOOOM!* A bright yellow object just exploded right into us.

[AAAAARRGGHH!] I got thrown sideways, ending up rolling a few times before stopping and coughing.

"Aaaaaaaghhh!" Oh dear, that sounded like Flandre flew a long way.

*Cough! Cough!* Agh! What the fuck!? I was about to stick it in, then a fucking yellow star just slammed into us without any warning!

[The hell!?] Marisa! Was that you!?

"Heads up, Eman!" Sez she as she flies over my head, her form a very blurry black and white, quickly being chased by…..

"Come back here!"

….a very gleeful Flandre with gem lights glowing too brightly, looking more like a really big firefly with a lot of color asthetics. Was the kid going all out on her?

Also, [WATCH WHERE YOU AIM, FOR FRICK'S SAKE!] One more time and you're gonna have two enemies once I'm done with my own!

"«Magic Sign—Milky Way»!"

She didn't listen to me.

Now all those dazzling little bullets are flying and spiraling everywhere!

Oh you gotdamn nikkofu—

*Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!*

~~~~~ « ҉ » ~~~~~

He was confused between cackling in excitement or giggling nervously, his mind could barely decide as dodging stars is more important than deciding either to have fun or be mentally impaired.

Instead of running away from the barrage, he chose to go towards it. It is indeed hazardous but the bullets are easier to track and dodge in this fashion. Good thing these things glow, makes it easier for me to see 'em, unlike dodge ball! That was the last time I'll ever do a cheat gainer flip just to fucking dodge the last guy's throw and hit him out.

He doubts that he'll ever get the chance to do that again, not in this Fantasy Land that had women firing glowing and colorful dodgeballs that explodes with a fire-rate faster than a heavy machine gun.

Spinning once to the left, dodging a large star, he ducked low and quickly scampered on all fours forward, not standing up until he noticed a tiny cluster of star danmaku heading towards him and rolled sideways to evade. Rising up to his feet with his upper body slightly lowered just in case, he remained in place and focused mainly on the evasive.

I hope Flandre breaks her Spell Card sooner or later, I can't dodge these things all day.

…but this is fun! I'm starting to get the fun of the game now!

The star bullets were fast, fast enough to compare to the thrown dodgeballs he once faced back in high school, but they had an obvious pattern and there were a lot of gaps, and the lights they give off just makes them even easier to predict.

Ducking low and spinning around once, he executed a B-kick to jump over a cluster that could've hit his legs and cartwheeled to the left, dodging an enormous green star. Thrusting his hips back and spinning to the right, he slip past a few stars going where his abdomen should be and a single red star grazed his bare shoulder. That instantly pushed him to a mild panic and he used that panic to consciously infuse adrenaline into himself, an ability he learned in a fight-or-flight moment several months ago. The fact that he was bare at the top is more than disconcerting. Even if a shirt is not enough to protect him from the pain of getting hit but at least he'll feel secure.

Noting a gap about to form just a few meters away, he patiently waited for it to arrive; leaning sideways and diving forward to the floor in spite of his dislike for the action towards hard floors. Still crouching, he rolled to the side, dodging a star that slammed against his recent position and he bolted. From the revolving stars, with each speed varying from fast or average, it created a particular path that could only last for two seconds in front of him.

[Yeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaa—] He could barely keep himself from exposing his panic and extreme rush. [—aaaaaaaaaaaoooooooooooooooooowwwooooooooooooo‼!‼!‼!‼!‼!]

As the gap closes behind him in his sprint, he could actually feel them nearly hitting them in the ass. The feathery feel of magic is completely perceptible on his backside, and the thought of getting hit right there is motivation enough to give him a rush of adrenaline and fun.

[Ahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!] He gave up on maintaining the sane and composed image of a very professional parkour artist/tricker, he submitted to the fun-loving, unhinged man who desired nothing but to feel the ultimate thrill in the midst of every terrain. A side that many of his trickmates knew existed within the calm exterior.

Slipping through the passage way and into the open space, he executed the backhand spring and a finishing backflip to release all the momentum and the exhilarating rush out of his senses. He back-stepped almost out of reflex as a blue star passed by where his head should be. Spinning and thrusting his hips back, dodging a small cluster, he wasted no time in going back into dodging, ducking and jumping, side-stepping and dashing, and soon enough he was tumbling and flipping. The very thing made him smile.

Ho-holy shit, I'm doing it! I'm actually doing it! I'm dodging bullets! I'm Batman, motherfuckers!

He was glad for his reflexes and good coordination, honed for 2 whole years of suffering and running, committing assault on drug addicts and common thugs, and a very good grip of adrenaline rush. Both his mind and body was put into motion, keeping the body moving and swerving to dodge as many bullets as he could see while at the same time keeping track of the bullet pattern, path, speed, distance, and formulating a fitting maneuver to dodge. The very act was extremely exhilarating for the Rumbling-Tumbling Outsider, more than the fun of going through an obstacle course against a competitor.

Is this what people here usually do in a fight besides beating the shit outta each other!? This is INSANE! How'd they come up with this!? How'd Master come up with this!?

This is amazing! This is awesome! I LOVE THIS GAME!

The evasion game had lasted for more than a minute, and yet he wasn't tiring, he only felt more excited and invigorated. Not only was the dodging consistent, but also the adrenaline. Each near-miss made his body infuse a dose of adrenaline to his system; the thought of getting hit by these explosive candy was enough to do that and being bombarded by the majority of the barrage afterwards is too much.

The pain that'll come.

The burns that'll mark his bare torso.

The scars that'll leave on him.

The certain colors his new pale skin could have if he was ever struck.

And the shock of losing if he ever lost his consciousness.

The thought of being hit, even if just once, is simply shocking. The thought of losing in this game is much more unthinkable. He had just discovered his affinity for fire magic, his skills in dodging were getting sharper and refined, even his strength seemed to increase, and his nimbleness was getting slicker and showy. His skill in the Gensokyo Game was starting to improve, he was starting to match one of the most prominent players in this dangerous Fantasy Land, and to think that he'll lose all that glory of surviving an entire spell card barrage coming from his tiny witchy friend, Kirisame Marisa because he failed…..

Aint't!

Spin: Dodging a tiny star from hitting him in the arm.

Fucking!

Step: He grazed a baseball-sized bullet under his arm, pushing him into a frenzy.

Happening!

TD Raiz: A gargantuan green star missed him by inches, its buzzing form careening past where his spinning form should be and exploding in the background.

BITCH!

And end with a corkscrew: And in the last execution, he successfully reached a very fantastic height as he jumped over one large star that could've struck his legs, grazed a few clusters with the side of his head and waist, and he landed to the floor with a roll.

He pumped a fist in full triumphant glory, [HELL YEAH!]

*ZZZZZ—BOOM!* He celebrated too soon.

[Aaghhkkhhaaaa!]

*thud!*

"AW!"
"Aw!"

"Dammit, Eman! I thought ya had it-ze!"

"That was so close, Eman-san! It was looking so cool!"

The Spell Card still hasn't timed out, and he got the pattern readings wrong. Instead of the red basketball-sized star going over his head, it was actually angled towards his bare back and it exploded right in-between his shoulder blades.

Among all the unceremonious landings that ever happened to him in his tricking and running days, this one was particularly traumatic. Not only was the victory 'hell yeah' too premature, he landed on his face. This never happened before, and it is horrifyingly humiliating.

[….fucking…gggghhkkkkkk…!] He growled on the floor, muffled slightly. Reimu's totally going to have a field day once he tells her about this. 'Hey, Reimu. I just fucked up in the game you made. I was like 'hell yeah', and then a fucking star blew my ass off the floor and onto my face'. She'd definitely blow her ass off with this.

The buzzing ambience of flying stars resonated for another second above his collapsed form before it stopped, the spell card timing out and the bullets popping into glitter, the very air sparkling like molecular jewels.

His back ached badly. It was an explosion, a hard punch, and a lot of heat mixed together that seemed to have happened on his back, the fact that it was a star-shaped bullet could not be any more ridiculous. If he plans to continue playing a game like this, he'll have to invest in some very durable clothing. His back stung with burns, it felt like it was scalded, and he is frightened to find out if the damages went far as to shred open his skin and exposed the tissue beneath.

[Ooowww…!] He groaned, lifting himself up by the elbows before he placed his knees underneath him. The adrenaline soon left him, and his exhaustion bore down like a weight suddenly dropped on him. His inhales and exhales came out in growls and heaves, taking as much oxygen as he could. The relief on his legs was delicious, but the burning pain on his back held him back from enjoying it. […fucked it up at the end….] Refraining the urge to roll on his back and pressure on the pain, he simply collapsed on his backside, holding himself up with his arms and looked up to the ceiling, admiring the handiwork of his first spell card leaving it charred and black, [….of course.]

*Kling. Kling. Kling. Kling.*

He looked back down and faced the little girl stood just nearby him, "You nearly captured Marisa-nee's spell card, Eman-san!" She remarked as if she was talking about a failed 3-points.

A monochrome figure sooner arrived to his opposite side, giving him a condescending smile, "Yeah! Should'a kept yer eyes open while the thing's still active-ze!" She advised with the abominable flair of arrogance.

Not bothering to find out what 'capturing' means and not having the patience to counter Marisa's advice, he lolled his head backwards groaning and attempted to stand up. His body was sturdy enough to not have overworked ankles just yet and his mind is strong enough to ignore the pain, if slightly. Once again, he was grateful for his above-average physical fortitude and heightened stamina. If he cannot survive an even complex danmaku spell card, then he can rely on endurance to compensate. Pain is a partner, a sidekick in battle, it will help him go further into the Rage.

But right now, the Rage is not beneficial to him anymore, it will only open the door for the demon into possessing him. He is very handicapped at the moment.

[Tch.] Rolling his neck, causing a crackle and rolling his shoulders to ease off the stiffness, he turned to the two of them, [What gives? Why'd you two stop fighting? Did somebody win?]

"We'll…" The two girls shared a glance before Marisa continued, "…you were goin' all-out so we kinda paused for a bit and watched ya go at it."

[….uh huh, okay…..] He brushed a hand across his wild unkempt hair, its former silkiness either gone or covered by dry ash. He really needs that bath, [What's the verdict?]

"You were amazing!" Flandre exclaimed, hands in the air and hopping, "You were flipping and jumping and things! Are you some kind of master acrobat or something!?"

"Still screwed up though," Marisa chortled, her smirk giving no sign of any deflation of her condescending flare, "He was like 'oh yeah', then he got shot in the back-ze!"

[Shut up.] He sluggishly swung a roundhouse kick and only the gigantic witch hat fell off as she easily ducked under it before picking it up. He turned around and exposed his back to them, [What does it look like? Any damages or anything?]

"Um no. Nothing."

"Yer just a little red there but nothin' serious."

He sighed in relief. Looks like the spell card system's injury prevention is finally starting to work on him. He looked around him a little before addressing them both, [Where's the Flandre I was fighting?]

"Oh….uh.." Marisa looked to the side, looking sheepish, "Remember that shot I got ya both with?"

He didn't reply but he felt his back starting to itch out of the memory of being interrupted by that explosive bullet.

"Yeah, Flandre number 2 kinda died." She bluntly stated, scratching her head, "Hehe, sorry to break the fight-ze."

Seeing her apologize was enough to sate all the irritation that boiled inside him. Her arrogance was starting to provoke the demon into coming in and he felt really inclined to let the bastard have his way if it meant shutting her up, [I hear you.] He crossed his arms over his bare chest, [So what now? Halt the fight or we continue?]

"Let's continue!" Flandre exclaimed excitedly.

"…." Eman glanced to Marisa, surprised that it was Flandre out of the two women to ever voice out the obvious choice between them.

"Uh…" She returned the look with an uncertain mien. "But what 'bout Eman here?" Marisa gestured to him, "He don't have a partner to tussle-ze."

Flandre's eyes widened, "Oh…" She scuffled her shoe in embarrassment, then she quickly recovered and turned to the Outsider, "Oh! You should team up with Marisa-nee, Eman-san!"

He gulped; well, that leaves throwing in the towel. I'm fucking tired here, [2 against 1?] He asked in spite of himself being unable to hold a candle to anybody in terms of giving the kid a challenge. He couldn't throw fireballs anymore or even cast the spell card he made himself, he's just a human with a measly knif—oh, he lost the knife when he got shot by that star prior to the Milky Way spell card.

She nodded vigorously, "Uh huh! It's okay with me!" The kid informed with a smile, fangs showing, "You couldn't throw danmaku anymore so it's not unfair if you two are together, yeah?"

Eman's eyes widened at the consideration of her words, he was initially shocked. When he glanced to his witchy friend, she was shocked too. He expected the kid to be all hyperactive in the game, all for the fun and excitement and everything else disregarded but he never expected the vampire to be very considerate.

"Marisa-nee will do the danmaku-ing and Eman-san shall handle the…uh…knifing and fighting on the floor thingy!" Eman couldn't hold back from snickering at the attempt to find a proper term besides CQC, "Yeah! It's fair, right?"

Eman held his forehead and massaged his temple, shaking his head in exasperation of himself. This kid. He really doesn't fully know the little girl. It seemed there was more to the vampire than just an immature kid who can't really hold down any thirsty urges.

"Ya got the short end, eh?" He felt an elbow nudge him on his side.

He moved his thumb away to look at Marisa with one eye, [You mean…?]

"Yer gunna go hand-in-hand with her, dude!" She told with a smile, it looked like she was pitying him with that smile, "Forget the danmaku, dude, she's a vampire! She'll kill ya with one hit-ze!"

He only had a second of silent panic and reconsideration before a simple memory reassured him of any bloody outcomes. [Even so, we are playing in the bounds of the Spell Card game, right?]

"Yeah!" Flandre answered first before Marisa could. "I might kill you if I didn't."

Eman gulped again. It was actually unsettling to hear that coming from a child. [Then I got nothin' to worry about. Since I got a spell card, nobody ain't gonna bleed or die, right?] He smiled, feeling his playful side rising up to make him feel eager for the coming fight, [Worst that could happen is me being knocked out before a minute could even pass.]

"Well, yer right about that but…" Marisa suddenly began to smile ominously, tilting her hat upwards to show the dangerous glint in her left blue eye, "Unless you activate it, the 'no death' thing ain't gonna save ya at all-ze."

Eman's panic was guaranteed to last the entire battle.

"What?" Flandre was genuinely caught off-guard by this, "Is-is that true?"

"Ppfff! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" She instantly doubled over, holding her stomach.

Marisa's guffaw was so sudden that Flandre and Eman literally jumped, eliciting the sound of gems clinging and a surprised squawk erupting, respectively.

"Ma-Marisa-nee?"

[Wha-what!?]

"Your face! Your fa-he-he-he-he-ace! I understand if it's you but Flandre!? AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA—"

[Oh….] Eman felt the itches coming in and he was sure that the demon inside him was dead-set on helping him out with a stress relief. He gladly allowed it; he reared one foot back, [yOu LiTtLe—]

A guttural curse left unsaid and Marisa was sent flying backwards from a single punting kick, courtesy of the Outsider that once had a pair of blackened eyes for only half a second before Flandre could see them after hearing him suddenly speaking in a strange throat.

Marisa crashed back-first to a standing bookshelf and it fell backwards with a loud thud, filling the relatively silent library with a loud thunderclap of wood and cement.

A thumbs-up was raised, followed by a gloriously free-willed holler, "Worth it-da ze!"

Like a dog, his brow creased, his teeth exposed in a sneer and let out a deep guttural growl, [HHHHHRRRRRRRRGGGGGGHHHHH—] Soon enough, his mouth started to open and a roaring monster bellowed in the sanctum of knowledge, [—AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH!‼!‼!‼] Then he stomped his foot to the floor, filling the silence once again with a second thunderclap that was more like a small boulder instead of damaged rubber landing on hard ground. Flandre was honestly surprised that the floor didn't crack.

After a few moments of him slightly heaving for breath, his shoulders rising up and down, Flandre lightly poked his leg, her apprehension rising at the demon actually possessing him again, "Um…Eman-san?"

*Stomp!*

The same leg she poked lifted itself from the ground and stomped, rather lightly than the first before Eman groaned into his hand, his other hand reaching for her head and patting her mob cap tenderly. [I'm okay.] He rasped, clearing his throat and coughing a few times. When he removed his hand from his face, Flandre saw hazel irises, no blackened scleras, [Stupid witch.] He muttered, glaring at the tiny woman standing proudly atop the toppled bookcase, smile glowing brightly to blind anybody seeing it.

It only annoyed him even further. He felt really inclined to just let the demon take control and make her go through that Hellstorm again.

[Can we start?] He was more frustrated than eager as he asked.

"Oh! Sure! But first…" Flandre took something behind her and drew out a black knife, "Here you go."

"Wait, ain't that Eman's knife?" Marisa asked.

He gave a little smile, [Thank you, Darlin'.] He took the tool from her cold little palm and took a few steps back, knife reared back behind his thigh.

Flandre giggled like a blushing teen, "He called me 'darling'~" She quickly took to the air and levitated just a few feet away from the air in-between the two, "Let's go!"

[Let's set down a few rules here.] Eman raised up a finger with a free hand. [Only one opponent at a time; No two at once unless Flandre clones herself; I will handle the melee combat, Marisa'll handle the danmaku combat—although I'm also involved in dodging them too so you can shoot danmaku at me as well, kid; Marisa and I can substitute each other by saying 'Sub' or 'Switch'.] He turned to his partner, [You getting me here?]

"We switch by 'sub' or 'switch', gotcha!"

[You can sub with me too but make sure it's only on melee combat. You can't sub on danmaku combat, 'kay? Not unless I find out how to make my fireballs again…] He trailed off lightly. Inside, he felt seriously conflicted of such an occurrence. He's still stuck in the dilemma between seeing it as relying on demonic knowledge (which he abhors) or using the knowledge the demon learned from the book, which belonged to Patchouli Knowledge (which is not the same thing, and something he's okay with).

"Okay!"

He chose to ignore the ugly thoughts and instead rolled his shoulders. Alright, things are startin' to look good. Eman rubbed his palm on his knife hand, his anticipation exposed by the gesture,

[Where was I? Oh yeah, as I was saying…..] He frowned for a bit, unable to think up any fair bounds anymore. It seemed like everything seemed set for a clean game, [I…think that's good 'nough. You all okay with them rules?]

"Yeah!" Flandre agreed, wings flapping gently and jingling in rhythm.

Marisa simply shrugged, "Hm, seems okay." Then she took to the air, flying to the same level as the vampire. "On yer go, dude."

He nodded, smacking his knife grip to his palm. [On yer go, kid.]

Flandre was slightly surprised, "M-me? O-okay, go!" She shot a few scarlet orbs towards Marisa before flying downwards to Eman, Lævatein arced back for an overhead strike.

Spinning to the left to dodge, the wiggly weapon destroyed the ground, sending a few pieces of cement to the air as the Outsider Scooted and attempted to sweep the kid's legs. Flandre floated her legs upwards to dodge, Eman killed the momentum of his leg by slamming the ground with his heel and swung it to the opposite direction, aiming for her face. When the Lævatein blocked the blow, the other leg shot forward and struck her chest, knocking her off her feet.

[Sub!] He barked before executing a monkey flip, twisted around upon standing and running off into the isles, handing over the battle to Marisa.

"Kirisame Marisa, comin' in!" Marisa arrived to the scene, already firing her danmaku towards her foe, colorful bullets of galactic origin blasting towards Flandre's general direction.

The vampire took to the air, sending back her own bullets, filling the air around her with scarlet light, granting a new illumination to the oddly lit library. She remembered that Eman was involved and so she maintained a barrage not just on the air where Marisa flew and dodged but also on the floor where he would be.

Somehow, he was nowhere to be seen.

She zigzagged sharply, wings erratically flapping and her crystals creating an orchestra of jingle bells in the midst of conflict. Marisa spewed forth everything she had in her disposal, from lasers to stars. Instead of going for the kill, she focused on firing beautiful patterns to make the style points, hoping to impress the kid with her new designs. Flandre likewise played along with the way the game was going, instead of shooting danmaku to take down the opponent, she competed in the beauty game with her own stylized patterns, honed and practiced since their first meetings.

A formation of colorful flowers against a cloud of scarlet. A streaming zigzag colliding against a shotgun spread of star danmaku. An endless barrage facing against a hail of danmaku with additional lasers. Despite such massive power, any effort made to hit the other is not evident, even to the untrained eye. The two combatants barely had to move, and even if they did, they didn't have to go far or move in sporadic directions to dodge the storm of projectiles, they simply needed a proper place where it is the least likely for them to be hit, a better place to show their performance. The environment could only count as the only victim of their relentless barrage, everywhere from ceiling to floor, bookcase to books, carpet and wood, there was not a single thing nearby that was spared from the barrage of beautiful chaos.

The Witch and the Vampire were smiling, a smile that conveyed the childlike enjoyment of a fun game under the sun. Any concealed snicker or exposed laughter that ever managed to escape is left unnoticed by the other, the sound of danmaku colliding against each other or slamming against any surface loud enough to muffle anything else, but they could clearly tell that they enjoyed the ordeal as much as the next person.

The conflict seemed to be no more than a competition between two artists hoping to beat the other in terms of aesthetics, rhyme and reason, rhythm and pattern, balance and unity, color and beauty, shape and form, negative space and positive space, numerable direction of lines. Even the principles of art were applied, the competition varied from balance, emphasis, movement, repetition, proportion, and variety. Marisa displayed fine artistry that mixes together the wild sway and the aggressive glide of the brushstroke in such impressive harmony. Flandre's hand displayed such nonchalance and carefreeness, relying more on the imaginations confined within the mentality of a young child to suit the canvass's subject while at the same time displaying all her invigorated emotions to the art, a chaotic mixture that is actually eye-catching rather than messy.

From a distant part of the library, away from the conflict in a distance where it is safe to spectate without getting hit by a stray bullet, the only viewer of the display was awestruck beyond belief, completely unsure which of the two had won the battle in terms of jaw-dropping the audience.

Eman could not believe his eyes as he watched the chaotic display above him. The number of bullets shot and thrown were beyond counting, it was blinding and absolutely overwhelming to the eyes. The amount of firepower in front of him is possible to put every Gatling Gunner to shame.

He already witnessed a danmaku combat, but it was never played like this; played similarly like a Breakdance Battle between him and his boys against another show-off group. Through this unfamiliar variation of the game, he finally knew what 'Danmaku' truly means.

[Bullet Hell.] He breathed, eyes remaining wide and unblinking. Not only does it involve overwhelming the opponent with a storm of bullets, you will charm the opponent into looking at your patterns that they forget about dodging. I am not fit to play this game!

Even if he ever managed to conjure a fireball in his hand, he doubt that he'll ever achieve throwing out such horrifying quantities of them and make them look absolutely beautiful to anybody who was looking at the same time. I bet I'll be drained towards a Mana Burn before I could pull it off without getting possessed by this bastard in me.

There was the fact that he was an emotion-trigger Pyromancer, or so what Marisa presumed. So I just have to get pissed? Do I really have to let myself be possessed before I could do the same fucking thing!?

He was both frustrated and exasperated, he realized that he was actually stuck. He can't revert to his default furiously murderous state whenever under extreme conflict because of the risk of being possessed, and he cannot believe that anger is the only thing that could trigger his powers.

…..or is it?

Eman carefully thought this through: his Witchy friend said that his powers were emotion-triggered, she did not say that the trigger was exclusively anger. She did say he should blow up in rage, but that came off as a suggestion that easily came to her mind, she didn't say it as if it was the only source of activation.

Maybe his other emotions can be used.

If so, what emotion should it be?

What feeling would fit in a fight like this? Nothing springs to mind except blowing my shit up!

Wait! His eyes widened in a realization, a hopeful smile rising on his lips. Maybe the invigoration could work. Let's see: excitement, exhilaration, hyperacti—

"Switch!" A shrilled bark whizzed by above his head, carrying a breeze and being a blur of black and white as Eman jumped in surprise over the complete suddenness of her arrival. "Eman, yer it!

He shot her an annoyed look, [What!? Whoa!] He jumped backwards and landed on his backside, successfully dodging the diagonal swipe of the Asgardian artifact that would've whacked him across the face. Pulling his legs close as the weapon came again to smash where his legs should've been, he quickly rolled backwards and spun the helicopter with his legs before executing the flare, alternatively switching to the air flare when necessary, especially when she was coming too close with her weapon.

Flandre backstepped, not to dodge the 6th flurry swing of hardened legs that prevented her from coming close but because she was loving the display of acrobats and she doesn't want to be in the way of the performer.

"You are amazing, Eman-san!" She cheered.

[Grrr!] It seems he only succeeded in pissing himself off by entertaining the kid when they're supposed to be fighting. Putting his feet back to the ground like a normal person, he stood up with an annoyed look, [Kid, we're supposed to be fighting here!]

"Oop!" She changed her smiling face and covered it with her free tiny hand, "Sorry, Eman-san! Yah!" Then she swung.

[Yikes!] Backstep, then a lean of his head to the right for a head-strike, then a side-step from the diagonal swing, [Hah!] He struck forward with the heel of his palm ready to meet her temple.

"Nope!"

She caught his hand.

An overwhelming wave of panic rushed all over his being at the tight crushing contact of the very dangerous bloodsucking being and he screamed—pulling her along as jumped back, heaved his grabbed arm upwards, and flung Flandre off him when she didn't wish to meet the ground with her wings and let go.

"Whoawhoawhoawhoawhoa!" Her voice zigzagged in her spinning flight to the air before steadying and turning back to him with a slightly dazed look, "Don't do that again, it makes me dizzy!"

His recently held hand protectively placed behind his back, he nearly stuttered in his response, [Sorry!]

When she slammed her feet to the ground, the solid thump of her little red shoes plucked a combative string within him. He pursed his lips, drew out his knife out of his holster, and charged her, now vying to go in a different approach.

Gotta stay within bounds. Fight, but make it beautiful.

Prepping himself to perform the 540 kick—he smoothly transitioned to actually executing the side-flip, landing the inner foot to the floor and ejecting the outer foot for a kick. While Flandre did fell for the feint and was caught off-guard, she successfully managed to block the strike with the middle of her weapon, stumbling just one step back thanks to her supernatural fortitude. Eman wasted no time in following up with a roll to the ground, then swiping his knife in a rising angle, allowing it to nick the weapon before slapping the air in front of her face, directing her focus there to leave the punch from his knife hand towards her abdomen go unnoticed.

She doubled-over slightly, surprised but not actually hurt. She straightened back up when Eman attempted to slam his palm to her side and the flat side of the Lævatein slammed into his abdomen, sending him 1 foot off the ground and landing on his back but quickly recovering to a stand with a roll. Audibly growling while holding his stomach, he bolted towards her and executed a Webster, fooling Flandre that he was going to do the side-flip kick again. As she swiped the empty air, Eman bounced off the ground upon landing his feet like a spring and dropkicked her straight in the mug—

*Catch*

She leaned her head sideways and his ankles rested on her one shoulder while she held them with both hands. Before he could panic, she smirked and swung him over his head with a holler, most likely to send him slamming to the floor as a favor return for attempting to do the same thing moments ago.

Once again, he was thankful for his reflexes for what happened next:

Before his face could be reformed via faceplant, his hands reached to the floors, directing the flow of momentum elegantly as he smoothly executed the roll, this time going sideways in a one-shoulder-to-other-shoulder fashion instead of the standard diagonal shoulder-to-waist. As the momentum that was once packed in his upper body transferred to his legs as per usual, he stiffened his legs, swung his captive legs outwards, bringing Flandre with them and flung her towards a bookshelf, slamming against it and toppling over with a loud thud.

"Ooooh!" Marisa was actually impressed from that. She began to applaud from her seat atop another bookshelf, not further away from the two, "Nice escape, brah! Was like a grapple-break and a counter at the same time-ze!"

Calming his agitated heart by tapping it as he held himself up from the floors by his other hand, he was very glad that Flandre weighed like a folded blanket. Had she weighed more than a hundred pounds, the results would've been different. Rubbing his aching shoulder (he still rolled on hard floors), he stood up and faced the rising form of the kid.

Adjusting her winched hat, she gave him a leery grin, fangs showing, "Not bad."

He pursed his lips. When an enemy compliments you, it's a sign that they will begin to step up their game. Still, he maintained proper courtesy and bowed his head without looking away, [Thanks.] He readied his knife, legs stiff in preparation for a proper response.

Suddenly, she struck. Eman barely held his hands up before the vampire slammed the shaft of her wand into his forearms, hurting him and sending him off his feet. When she slammed him to the floor, a knee crashed into her navel and got herself pushed off him.

Quickly rolling sideways to one knee, he dropped his knife and held both his bruising forearms, relieving the excruciating pain by rubbing them. That was extremely painful, one that hurt far worse than the earlier explosion on his back. He was so thankful that the Spell Card System kept his arms from shattering apart. He would've committed suicide had it been otherwise.

While the back of his injured head has been mysteriously healed right after the time he was firmly defeated by Marisa and earned his sense of self back despite losing, giving him a big relief of never having to remain careful not to let his head land on anything hard-surfaced whenever he's blown backwards and reopen it, his shoulders indeed hurt without question. It would have been reduced to several fragments if not for the metaphysical limiters of the game. The strength of a vampire was outright horrifying, especially when the bloodsucker is the size of a kid.

His fear began to grow, especially if the vampire was already on her feet, coming closer with deliberately slow steps, the wand ready to finish him off while he knelt vulnerable.

That fear triggered the next emotion to take the spot: Anger.

[HHHRRRGGGHHHHHHH…..!] He secretly reveled in gratification when he saw her freeze in her steps as his throat began to act up. Unlike the ones before, this anger was genuine. And he loved it when his emotions are sincere instead of them being artificial just for the sake of advantage, it's less tiring that way. He's NOT fond of being outdone, especially when it hurts. He DISLIKED being helpless, it makes him weak. And lastly, he HATES surprise attacks, especially when he's not the one doing it.

Holding down a roar, he picked up the knife with a slack grip and placed it in-between his teeth, keeping his outrage contained by biting down hard. With arms hurting like this, his default efficiency is reduced to maybe 25%-49%. But in a rage like this, his regained efficiency outmatches it by a large margin.

I don't give a fuck anymore. If I get possessed from being pissed off like this then so be it, cuz I'm not letting her go for bruising my arms like this!

His roar muffled, he exerted one foot stomp and Flandre immediately took the bait: Side-stepping a spear jab, he jumped over her in a 180 corkscrew as she swung horizontally, eyes firmly planted on her before landing in a hands-free backwards roll, evading the follow-up swipe. He thrusted his hips back to dodge another swipe, he didn't expect the third swipe to be fast; it hit him right in the hip.

His screams went muffled, even as he laid on the floor holding his side. Flandre looked satisfied over her hit as she reared it over her head, then that expression changed to a look of pain when a foot shot to her abdomen once again.

Eman was shocked over his feat, even with the pain on his side. Holy shit, I didn't know I could hit that fast! Refilling his heart with anger again, he rolled to his feet and charged at her, the pain on his side serving as fuel for more hot boiling rage. Dodging the first swipe, he struck feinting left cross before sweeping his foot towards hers. Flandre lifted her feet up, floating as his limb passed by and slammed the wand against his shoulder.

[GGGRRRRRRRRRRRGGHHHHH!‼!‼!‼!‼] If he wasn't biting down on the knife, his screams would've echoed all throughout the library. Reflexively, he spun upon getting hit, and executed a compasso straight to her face. She did not saw it coming and got herself slamming against the floor.

Using the pain as more fuel for the fire, he lifted one foot up and stomped down. Flandre flew backwards out of the floor, Eman quickly jumped to the air for a dropkick. This time, the vampire was prepared, bringing her wand up and blocking both feet with the shaft. She didn't budge from her elevated place. Landing on the floor, feeling like he just kicked a stone wall, he saw another hammering strike coming in and—

"Ha!"

He slid backwards—

*SMASH!*

"WHOA!" Marisa shouted in the background, flying over above their heads to see the damages. She was wide-eyed at the sight, "Holy…"

Eman stared in horror, his pale face going even to the palest shade of white. His legs were spread, his groin feeling like it just committed suicide, and in-between his thighs was reminiscent to a certain nightmare nearly coming to reality. Flandre's Lævatein was buried to the cement, cracks circling the epicenter, just 3 inches from crushing his balls to near oblivion and sending him to the HELL that he never wanted to enter.

The amount of fear that struck his system was too much that even anger couldn't take over completely, and hysteria instead took hold of his body.

As she pulled the weapon out of the ground, he didn't allow her to pull it back as he coiled his legs around it and heaved her lightweight body over him and into the floor. An adrenaline overdose was rushing all over him, and it was impossible to not lose control. Things began to move too slowly, moving objects are getting clearer in their movement instead of blurring, Flandre began to look predictable in her next actions, and his pain instantly disappeared.

[HHRRRRRRRrrrrgggghhhhh‼!] Letting out what could be interpreted as a shrilled screaming muffled by his knife, he began to lash out at her in insane movements. Flandre was initially flabbergasted, his limbs flailing out like an animal and his vigor almost unbelievable to come from a human. She was easily dodging his wild movements but her swings were missing as well, his dodging speed suddenly increased and she was getting forced into the defensive more often.

And he was still screaming in his knife. He wasn't possessed, but his eyes were wide, bloodshot, and morbidly unhinged. Marisa's eyes narrowed as she began to ponder over this development: Comparing the silently furious demon to this screaming mad man would have yielded noticeable difference in terms of disposition but the ferocity from both are a perfect match. I'm startin' to wonder if this dude's got MPD. First it was that demon, now's this guy. Maybe this one's a version of the demon he could control.

When Eman slowly began to display finesse in his movements instead of a wild abandon, he executed a few feints, Capoeira kicks and several quick slams of his palm. The lucky hits he landed were far and few but he could tell which ones could land and which ones couldn't. A direct pattern of his movements can be seen through but complex movements had a 50% percent chance of landing like the Compasso. The kid is durable, fast, and strong, far more than him considering their species difference, but she had something that he could exploit endlessly. Her movements were completely mediocre. For all the raw power the vampire had, Flandre was not a warrior. Her movements were untrained, slack and rather childish, as if she was a child holding a wooden stick, fresh into the way of the sword.

Eman was starting to suspect that this kid never fought in a duel before, much less of swordplay. This was a predator that did not know how to hunt. This was clearly the case. She didn't have enough experience to swing precise blows, inexperienced to strike without any openings, her movements were lame and self-made: too many openings. She's susceptible to losing against a skilled opponent no matter how weak even if she's not being careless.

Her most exploitable trait: She's easy to fool.

When he motioned a jumping punch, he smoothly transitioned to the leg sweep, the vampire landing in an ungraceful heap. Performing the L-kick to soften the momentum of his still-steaming leg, his one hand hopped off the ground as her wiggly wand whipped by before both recovered back to their feet. The extreme pain on his forearms now lessened to a simple bearable ache, he spat out the knife and held it, ignoring its wet grip.

[RRRgghh!] He charged, knife swung towards her face: she merely leaned her face back, dodged. She retaliated, swung her wiggly pole towards his side. Reflex kicked in and Eman thrusted his hips back, the weapon missing his abdomen by the hairs. Flandre swung again, aiming for his face: dodged likewise.

A diagonal swing, he smoothly let his knife graze it before his other hand slammed a punch to the elbow, a follow up abdominal punch with the knife hand, and a palm slam to her back, sending her stumbling just one step forward while he executed a simple TD-Raiz for the style points. Cherry red eyes turning to him, he leaned away from a hit-and-run diagonal swipe, he didn't expect a blunt blow from the Lævatein to hit him in the middle of the back. A follow up kick sent him face first to the floor, his grip on the knife lost and it slid just a few feet away.

Crow's feet appeared in the outer corner of his eyes as he growled in pain, holding his back. Such a blow should've shattered his spine in half and leave him paralyzed in the legs. For the System to restrict severe injury, it does not stop people from feeling the pain that would make people wish they died instead of living long enough to experience it. Rising up to his knees with his head still lying on the floor, he peeked to the corner of his eyes and found her slowly approaching—

She's going to grandslam his butt with the Lævatein!

Whirling to send his back to the floor, the weapon missed his backside by inches.

The pain along with the absolutely indignant act of hitting him where it will ultimately humiliate him is just enough to set his fuse off.

[HAAAAGGHHHH‼!] He practically exploded from his lying position that Flandre did not actually see it coming, considering that she surely damaged his back good enough to make sure he won't get up from the pain. From that moment of weakness, a hard palm slammed itself to her temple once again so hard that she hit the floor and rolled from the force of the momentum.

The momentum was still rolling when she felt a pair of hands pick her up by the waist and threw her straight to the air as if she was a ragdoll. When she gathered her senses in the air, she swerved sideways and successfully avoided a whirling axe-kick from slamming the back of her head. When Flandre placed her feet back to the ground, Eman was already on her with fists swinging.

At this point, the strength of his blows have multiplied twofold, strong enough to make Flandre stumble more than 3 steps or even off-balancing her to the floor. Jabs and bare-palm slaps managed to land, but a full-powered swing of his fist is yet to land. It's too slow, the child will hit him first or just move away before it connects.

Likewise, Flandre returned a few blows with him, even managed to leave 4 red lines on bare his chest when she clawed him. There were some strikes from the kid that came close: a thrust that nicked his cheek; a right swing that grazed his bicep, leaving a stinging cut; the flat end of the weapon's clock hand point slamming against his side but he managed to grit his teeth and retaliated with a kick to her shoulder. Every time she nicked him with her wiggly weapon, it felt like it just went past his skin like a razor. The strike on his side left him the impression that she had hit him with an aluminum bat.

Her speed was a problem, however. She waved the pole as if it was a feather and her natural speed as a vampire didn't give Eman a chance to strike back in the numerous openings. Only by rage or hysteria did he could ever barely be in equal grounds with the vampire.

Swatting off a thrust of her weapon with his knife, he back-stepped a horizontal swing towards his chest. He saw the familiar incoming swing aiming for his face, he swung his body around and quickly ducked, his back facing her, the pole striking where his head would have been—

And a compasso quickly swung to her face.

"Ooh!" Flandre simply leaned her head back, a very smooth motion as if she had seen it coming.

My goodness, she actually dodged it. Nicely done.

Despite his miss, he couldn't help but smirk.

Let's see you do the second one.

The steam of his leg still rolling, he swung his body in a snap to face Flandre so he could add up momentum to the limb for extra power, and swung the Compasso again.

As surprised as she was, the kid did well to quickly hold up her wand up to block the incoming kick. Eman shared her bafflement when he felt his foot easily batting the weapon away like he was swatting a twig off a branch.

She prolly didn't lock up her arm to keep it steady.

The steam of his leg was now transferred to the Lævatein, explaining why it flew off her hand, and he executed the Compasso again—

—Not. The leg was bent.

Flandre leaned her head back again just to dodge a phantom foot.

Her abdomen was very stuck out when she did: a very easy target.

The motion of the Compasso smoothly replaced into a fast spin to build up a momentum, he shot a foot straight to her gut.

The satisfaction felt was so real when the momentum transferred to Flandre's entire body and sent her flying backwards to a shelf so hard it tilted, and flung out a few books out of their places but not topple over.

Breaking free from his frozen whirling back-kick position, he executed a cartwheel to make just a slight distance away from her, running to pick up his fallen tool and back to his standard knife stance.

Once she gets back up, she's gonna be pissed. He assumed.

Flandre raised her lowered head up, staring back at him with furious blood eyes, frustrated at being outdone with physical blows. "Nice play, Eman-san. Even if you go crazy, you still do it well." Her voice was quite even, despite the look in her eyes.

[Thank you, Flandre.] He bowed his head to her.

She conjured a card on her hand, forming from scarlet energy before becoming material. "May I use a Spell Card on you?"

He rose his eyebrows, [Oh…stepping up the game, are we?] That meant he's about to go into the evasive now, that also means more dodging and running and flipping. And he's kind of tired, he should sub with Marisa now, but…[Why not? It's time you get some revenge at least.] He should at least go for another try, without dropping his guard at the last second and get his back blasted by a bullet again.

A very appreciative leer crossed Flandre's face when he said that. "Thank you, Eman-san."

"Duuuuude…." Marisa drawled in a warning intonation.

Eman was quick to get the implication of her voice and the apprehensive chill ran through his spine, contrasting the heat of his exerted body. He turned his eyes to her, the slightest sign of worry in them, [What? What I do?].

"«Taboo — Lævatein»!"

He was starting to regret not subbing now.

The large wiggly minute hand in her grasp was suddenly lit aflame, its length extending past its original point, long enough to be considered a spear if she had not held it like a sword. Eman's eyes widened at the sight, a literal semi-gargantuan fire sword was in the hands of the child. He could feel the heat coming from it, the amount of energy it contained, and the amount of destruction it carried. He cannot fight back against such a thing. If he ever came close, he'd be singed off. If he clashed his knife with that, his fingers would come off!

If he had not been the receiving end of that, he would've been in awe.

But since he was going to be the receiving end of that, he could only mutter in his mind: Aw Fuck!

He was starting to wish he could make fire appear in his hands again, demonic or not. At least in that fashion, he could break her spell card by hitting her hard with that explosive fist he barely remembered doing in the fight against Marisa. He could have been able to put himself just barely compatible to her power, if not her match.

After a few tense seconds of staring and stiff posturing, Flandre swung the fiery weapon horizontally and clusters of fireballs were sent propelling to his direction. His body stiffened, legs tense in preparation, eyes focused and careful, he—

….….

It's happening again.

His eyes remained narrowed but he was internally gaping at the sight.

Just like the time with Sakuya, the fireballs were not blurring in the flight, he could see them in perfect quality even as they flew towards him in the speed of a kicked football. He could see the yellow within the flames, he could see the red outlining the fires itself, there was also the scarlet aura that surrounded each fireball entirely.

All were absorbed under one simple second.

He twisted his body to the side, a fireball whizzed by where his shoulder should be. He leaned his upper body forward, dodging another one that would have struck the side of his head. He spun to the right, dodging 4 in the motion.

Flandre swung her sword again, sending more fireballs towards him, denser than the first one. This strike, however, seemed to have a pattern. The fireballs were flying towards him in a linear pattern, one fireball behind the other as the 5 fireball worms propelled in a conga line for the kill.

I see a gap there.

Smirking, he boldly charged the incoming attack and slinked through the opening in-between two lines, being careful as they moved both vertically and diagonally at the same time. While the effort was easy, the sudden rise of temperature whenever he dodges a fireball in any area around his body is not pleasant. He was already sweating inside his clothes, his forehead was wet from the slightest exertion and he felt his skin being overheated from the inside when he passed through the pattern.

Now I know how Marisa feels.

He was very nervous within, despite his stony expression. He had no way of landing a blow on the girl, that sword will keep him at several meters away the longer it stays lit. His only strategy at the moment was to stay in the defensive, dodge as much as possible, and wait for the Spell Card to sap out.

How long would that be?

Seeing a chance as he saw no more fireball clusters coming in and Flandre needing to get her wits about her for some reason, he charged forward—

"HA!"

He gasped and felt his adrenaline pump up at the attempt that would have taken away his head had he not stopped himself: she swung her sword in a speed that horrified him, it was close enough to be in arm's reach and it burned him even though he didn't even touch it. Flandre swung again and she left a 180 arc of fire on the floor in front of her as she seemed to be aiming for his legs. Eman jumped back and executed several backflips, alternating to the backhand springs.

Executing the final backflip, he was high in the air thanks to the brewed momentum being released. Thankfully trained, he didn't need to look at the floor to perform a perfect land. As the toes of his feet felt the floor, he fluidly lowered his bottom to the ground, tucked his head inward to his chest, and the momentum made him roll backwards on his back from the center of the waist to the left of his shoulder and back to his feet with a hop.

A momentum hop on hard concrete, haven't had those in a while.

He didn't have time to celebrate as Flandre was beginning to advance with the destructive weapon in her small hands, swinging it without any effort at all, destroying floors, burning carpets, and even a few bookshelves that were caught in the range of the sword, sending books flying to the air but oddly not lit to flames despite their proximity against the weapon of fire.

"BURN! BURN! BURN!" Flandre screamed in a pyromaniac intonation. Her manic smirk is not helping at all.

Eman struggled as he dodged and jumped back with the best of his abilities, from the extended length of the blade, the speed of the swings, and the unbearable heat of the flame: super problematic for a powerless human like him. Whatever Flandre was doing, she's doing a good job in making him unable to retaliate in any way. The only thing saving him from being cut in half and roasted is his adrenaline rush and trained reflexes, making every movement of his enemy perceptible and manageable to be dodged.

[Oof!] His back hit the shelf.

"HAGH!" Her prey cornered, she swung horizontally.

*VOOOSSSHHHHH!‼*

The top half of the severed bookshelf exploded from the force, the wood crumbling apart or burning away to cinders. The only survivor of Flandre's attack were Patchouli's books.

Eman was lucky to have lost none of his hair any more than Marisa already had as he ducked at the lastest second.

Leg tensed, he put his hands to the floor and Flandre's chest was struck hard as he horse-kicked with his right foot, using the heel of his feet and the hard soles of his shoes to amplify the force of impact. Struggling as she flew from the kick, she flapped her wings frantically until she was steady in the air.

Before Flandre could compose herself from the strike, a hand grabbed her ankle and she was instantly pulled down from the 9 ft. elevation straight to the ground on her backside. She quickly swung her Lævatein erratically in front of her to prevent giving Eman any chances to hit her while she's down and she quickly stood up to her feet.

Eyes glowing red, she advanced the Outsider with frustrated fervor. Swinging and advancing nonstop, the whoosh-whoosh sound of her every swing resonating, Eman either back-stepped or dived away from her every attack, despite her supernatural speed and strength, her frustration at every miss was used against her as her movement pattern got very predictable overtime.

When she thought she could get him to land his back against another standing bookshelf, he quickly turned around, wall-run upwards by laying each foot against the edges and ejected upwards, twisting in the air and aiming his feet towards her for a ground-stomp.

Flandre smirked at this.

She quickly held up her fiery weapon above her horizontally and the smirk on his face instantly turned into horror.

Gotcha, Eman-san.

[WUUUAAAGGGHHH!‼] His feet felt like it touched a cauldron of boiling oil when it landed on the hot shaft of the weapon. His shoes were not fireproof, and the skin of his ankles were exposed, he was finally acquainted with the pain of fire on flesh.

Sliding off the burning weapon and landing on the floor, his agonized growls and screams didn't stop. His pants lit on fire, he struggled as he slapped them out in a panic, desperately trying to remove the searing pain on his ankles. His hands burned, it felt like his skin and tissue burned away and his muscles suffered the damages next but in his panic and agony he gave no mind to their condition and focused on putting out the fires.

This isn't ordinary fire! This isn't ordinary fire! This isn't ordinary fire! This isn't ordinary fire!

THIS IS HELLFIRE!

The fires were gone. The hellfires burned all the way up to the knees of his pants, and to his horror, the skin on his ankles were no longer the same: wherever there was flesh that was a prized reward by God in honor of his efforts for building a monument in His name, a terrifying surface of 3rd degree burns overtook it like a landscape ravaged by a lava flow. Where veins could be found, they are awfully bloated that they seem to look like branches had been merged into his skin and protruded outwards from the inside.

Eman wasn't sure if his mind became too numb from the burns that he couldn't feel them anymore but his eyes were wide and his shock left him staring at his injuries for how long.

I thought…I thought there were no injuries…! I thought no one would get injured!

A sinister giggle brought him out of his mind and he looked forward to see Flandre rearing her weapon behind her, a beheading motion incoming to put him out of his misery.

With a sadistic grin, fangs showing and a menacing flare of her red eyes, she bid him farewell, "Nighty-night, Eman~"

*WHOOOSH—GHAAK!*

An explosion of blue light overtook his vision and he instinctively looked away, covering his eyes. When the light cleared, Flandre's form was overtaken by a black-white one. The witch hat reminded him that Marisa was still here.

And she was holding a blue glowing staff that blocked the fire sword from severing his neck.

"Geez, dude." Her condescending voice betrayed no effort in keeping the fire sword at bay. "Too proud to call a switch?"

He said nothing, still flabbergasted at everything that happened.

"Well, can't blame ya if ya back out now. Ain't no crime, really-ze. Ya ain't fit for a serious fight yet, ya need more trainin'."

Marisa gave the Lævatein a firm push and Flandre quickly took a few steps back, turning her attention to the second opponent, knowing that Eman was out of commission. Spinning her blue staff around her, she slammed the bottom part to the floor and the bulbous gemstone that adorned the head glowed bright.

"«Magic Sign—Smitten Sidhe»!" She declared with the dignity of a woman who had accomplished a great feat. "Check it out, Flan, Brah, my kind of Lævatein: The Staff of Merlin!" She turned to the still-gobsmacked boy behind her, "Watch 'n' learn, Eman."

Facing her opponent once more, her new staff, created from the fragment of Merlin's staff, embed to her broomstick and turning her aerial vehicle into the Arthurian artifact, worked its wonders against the Asgardian's weapon.

Eman did no such thing as spectate and retreated further away from the conflict after swiping his knife off the ground, ignoring every explosion, every laser that whizzed by, every bullet that strayed nearly to his form, he ignored everything.

~~~~~ « ҉ » ~~~~~

This…

….I'm terrified…! I'm scared….!

I was nearly burned to death….! My legs are burnt….!

Why do they not hurt….!? Were the nerves damaged….?

Does that mean that I've lost feeling there….? Would it mean that my legs are going to deteriorate? Does that mean that I'll eventually lose my ability to walk?

No…! No…!

That can't be! THAT CAN'T BE!

"No…! No…! No…!" I reached up to claw at my face, then froze.

My hands are burnt as well, they are almost burnt inwards to look like fleshy bones!

Oh fuck…! Oh fuck…! Oh fuck…!

You Are Terrified!

My back is itching.

My breathing is coming fast.

My consciousness is starting to slip.

My vision is starting to waver too.

I am about to pass out from everything I'm seeing. From my burnt hands, to my burnt calves, to the possible chance that I may never walk again!

I'll be a dead man! If I cannot walk anymore, I'm already dead!

Turn To Me!

I still couldn't pass out.

I wanted to throw my consciousness away in the hope that this was a dream, in the hope that none of this had happened.

My hands and feet did not burn.

I did not jump straight to that fire.

None of this bullshit ever happened.

But no.

I couldn't pass out.

Even if I closed my eyes, I couldn't!

My mind was still stuck in a traumatic stance, but I was still conscious of my environment. I was even self-aware of what's happening to my head. I could still hear the sound of my heartbeat, the sound of combat somewhere, the numbness of my hands and legs.

I know the reality of my situation, and I am mad enough to understand it. This is real. ALL of this is REAL!

My hands are burnt! I'm going to lose my ability to walk soon!

You Desire Revenge!

My back is itching.

Now underneath my shoulder blades.

My head followed.

My chest.

And the direct hit that made me scratch all over: the area in-between my abdomen and my ribcage.

[HHHHHhrrrrrgghhhh!‼!‼!]

I was now lashing out on myself. Bony fingers turning into claws. My head, my face, my torso, my arms, my legs, I was beginning to harm myself. I am piercing through the skin.

I'm bleeding!

Turn Over To Me!

I'll Give You Power!

Hand Your Entire Being To Me!

You Desired Revenge!

You Want To Return The Eye For An Eye.

I'M BLEEDING! I'M BLEEDING! MAKE ME STOP! MAKE THE ITCHING STOP! PLEASE! SOMEBODY STOP ME FROM DESTROYING MYSELF!

BUT I CAN'T STOP! WHY IS THE ITCHING NOT STOPPING!?

[AAAAAAAAAGGGHHHHHHH!‼!‼!‼!‼]

Let Me Help You!

You Are Weak!

You Cannot Save Yourself Like This!

Turn Over To Me And You'll Live!

You'll Be Great!

You'll Be Stronger!

Submit!

Submit, And Nothing Will Ever Harm You Like This Ever Aga—

{HAWA‼}

*SLCK!*

…..…..

…..…..…..

…..…..…..…..…..

…..I knew you were doing something to me, you motherfucker.

You were trying to overtake me, aren't you? Aren't you?

Pumping me with irrational fear, making me assume stupid things, making me itch all over that it'll throw me over to the rage—and you'll use that time to get ahold of me.

Nice try.

If I know how to distract the nerve receptors of my body from feeling stomach pains just by simply pinching the space in-between my thumb and index, I sure as hell know how to make the scratching stop by cutting my wrist as a form of 'FUCK YOU' to your face.

Heh….heh…haha…how do you like me now….you invasive shit-pissing cuntfucker….!?

If something else hurts more than a stab wound, your mind will be diverted to focus on that one pain. That's how I could stop the itching on my own, the price to pay is that it must hurt very badly.

Well….I'm no stranger to Pain, I live practically next door to the guy. He either barges through the door or I invite him in.

I trust Reimu, and there's nothing here that could make me doubt her, not even this 3rd degree burns could. They'll heal, I know they will.

"There's this: you will suffer some bodily damage, bruises or bleeding or even some broken bones but even if you get them, they'll disappear over time or after a good night's sleep. Just trust the fact that you don't die. It's an absolute thing when you agree to a Spell Card Battle."

Good thing Reimu said that during the crash-course. It dissuaded every worry I had.

I could still walk, and these hands will heal back once I win. Even if I lose, I'll just…sleep it off…literally. The wounds will just disappear entirely once tomorrow comes, or maybe a few hours after. Reimu didn't specify.

But still….I'm bleeding. The cut I put on my wrist, it's spilling to the floors. I gotta bind this thing.

Fucking shit, I look like I got attacked by a Bobcat that got too hopped up on catnip and imagined me as a scratching post that tried to run away. Goodness, my nails are black from the blood.

This…is going to endanger me the next time I put myself in the fight once again. Flandre's going to freak out once she smells me. She'll end up hurting Marisa in the process if I show up like this.

I'm gonna have to sit this out until my scratches fade. How long though, that's the question.

I need a good vantage point.

Somewhere outside of Flandre's smell range and somewhere high enough for me to get a good view of everything.

Somewhere….somewhere….

This area's got all its bookcases on the floor. No visible perches for a black bird like me. Wait, ain't this the place I bombarded with those asteroids before?

Oh yeah, there's the crater! It's fucking 11 ft. deep! Holy shit, that's impressive! Patch's gonna kill me for this if she doesn't listen to my reasoning first!

It ain't smokin' no more, no more glowing embers too. It's just a black pitfall, and I don't wanna try and see if I could climb myself outta that one.

Life-risking bullshit will have to wait.

Now where do I go~?

Should I sit on top of a bookshelf? Or should I go for the second level of the library?

"…smells delicious…"

…..…..

…..…..…..

No….no.

I forgot.

I fucking forgot!

A Third Flandre is keeping the library monitored.

She's not in a fight. She's not bound to the spell card rules.

She could possibly kill me. Nothing's stopping her from attacking me.

I turned my head to the side, and there she was. She had her eyes planted on me, and the hunger in them paralyzed me, "…Blood." She breathed something.

Cold fear had already rolled all over my being, and I could not infuse anger within me. I risk letting the demon get ahold of me, I risk destroying myself even more, I risk doing something I'll regret.

Cold hands gripped my shoulders, and I heard somebody sniffing me all over me. I was supposed to be running, I was supposed to stab this girl in the eye and quickly bolt before she regenerates. She's about to drink me dry, I should be running.

Why was I not moving?

I'm panicking. I'm not lying, I really am panicking, down to the point where the adrenaline is practically coursing through my every blood vessel.

Why am I not moving?

Something cold and wet lapped a bleeding scratch on my collarbone. I turned my eyes to her, she leered at me with her red eyes as she licked her lips, savoring something I didn't see, "You're tasty, Eman-saaan…" She breathed again, this time she was audible. "Since you're not running away, you're giving me permission, right?"

She neared her lips close to my jugular, sniffing it, sticking her nose to it, nipping it, licking it.

"Aah~" Her cold breath sent a shiver across my spine, and my hands twitched from it, yet I still could not move. "I'm digging in."

DON'T TOUCH ME!‼

KEEP YOUR FUCKING HANDS OFF ME, YOU FUCKING LEECH!

{BUHI!‼}

Heat exploded all around me. Unlike the hellfire Flandre used on me, this one was something completely bearable. It burned, it was hot, it made me feel like my skin was too close to a candle light, but I could bear it. I was very enduring to this fire, and the sensation was very familiar.

It horrified me, but comforted me too.

The hazing yellow light that invaded my eyes immediately disappeared, the library returned to my eyes once again. I looked at my right hand, and it was no longer bony thin. The exposed veins had returned beneath the flesh, and the white flesh had returned to them. I was healed.

I looked at Flandre….she was in the same state I was in when she burned me with her Lævatein. Her arms….her arms…are those burn wounds?

Vengeance Shall Be Served.

You'll pay!

I did something sensational with my body, like I just made my nerve receptors perceive the blood flow of my body. I could feel the streaming blood cells of my blood vessels. I could feel their passage coursing through my arms and legs, and every flow originated from the center of my chest; the heart.

You'll burn! You'll burn!

For some reason, my thoughts immediately turned to heat, fire, flame, inferno, coal, boiling earth, steam, hazing air; every physical or metaphysical thing that I ever knew to be hot was flooding my head. Fast moving cells….fast things burn.

My right hand is brimming with so much heat, so much fire energy, I could feel a clump of them grinding against each other, creating friction and heat, so much oxygen around me to feed life to the fire…all it needs is a little shake.

With a flick of my wrist….

*Whush!*

….let there be light.

My turn…!

With a smirk on my face, I roared with all of my invigoration and threw the fireball towards her.

She side-stepped out of the way, but I didn't stop there: my second hand lit up to flames and threw another, followed by another.

Familiar sensations were returning to me, and my mind accepted each one with the full knowledge inside them instantly absorbed.

I was remembering how to cast my fire abilities now, what to do, what to feel, what autonomous function to manipulate inside the body, how to manipulate the autonomous functions, everything.

The inferno.

The asteroids.

The explosive fireballs.

The explosive fist.

The tunnel of flames.

The fire shield.

The roses of the Agni Shine.

A body of fire.

Cauterize wounds.

And there were others more that my possessed self didn't do when I fought Marisa. The knowledge as to what to do is as fucking clear as a very direct instructions paper. I could just read it and immediately do so without trouble.

This sensation…..oh no…this isn't healthy.

Inferno on my hand, I quickly blew into it and a flamethrower followed Flandre's flying form, sweeping across the air and heating the temperature of the room.

I should not be allowed to revel in this sensation….this….this….

When she dropped to the floor like a bullet and made a beeline towards me to rake my face across with her claws, my body manipulated the heat and fire energy of my body to flow out into the air in front of me simply by exhaling and sweating, and from that action I created the flat sun shield. Flandre crashed into it and she ran away screaming, her left arm now a smoking stump.

This sensation of power…the sensation of domination…..the power of being in control…..the power of being strong….

….Aahh…it's so…

…intoxicating~~!

[Hhaaaghh!] I lit my upper body up in flames, the burning heat barely a bother to me, I ran onwards to Flandre with my burning fists ready to leave a mark on her face. [HHEHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!‼!‼!‼!‼!] I could not stop myself from laughing at all this power I had. It felt great. I feel great. I feel powerful. I feel like I could do anything!

I FEEL LIKE A GOD!

Whatever danmaku Flandre threw at me, I simply caught them in my hands where they will be eaten by the flames and the ones I didn't catch simply crashed into my bare body. They hurt, but they barely mattered. I could heal with these flames. I am invincible, Flandre! You can't kill me now!

[HHEAAAGH!] I jumped to the air, an awesome distance and height covered when I did, my body motioning for a hammer slam. As I was in mid-air, my entire body was boiling with all these heated energy, my head down to my feet. I had the feeling that once I land my feet, I will explode.

When Flandre jumped away from the predicted impact zone, I was right, but I did not expect the magnitude of the explosion to be this big: I became a fucking impact-C4.

~~~~~ « ҉ » ~~~~~

When I opened my eyes and regained my sense of self, I was in the epicenter of a Car Bomb. Everywhere around me was lit in flames, wood snapped and crackled from the flames, ember lights were everywhere, even the floor was smoking from the heat, and my skin was hazing the air into waves. Those books, they're fucking immortal, aren't they?

I looked at my hands: these hands….they were my weapons, a piece of my arsenal whenever I had to fight alongside knife and rage. They could punch, they could grab, they could break, they could claw, they could….kill. That was all they could ever do in all those years, they could not do anything else; they couldn't turn my hate into fire, they couldn't manipulate the flow of energy in my body to create fire, they couldn't take advantage of my invigoration to fan the flames, they weren't supposed to be able to do these things.

But now they do.

From that moment of weakness where the purpose of my blood will be violated under the whims of a very unstable vampire, I unlocked something I could not ever hope to accomplish in the Outside World.

I could manipulate fire now.

I became a Pyromancer.

And it turned me into a Megalomaniac.

I grasped for the rosary.

Calm down, Eman, you got to calm down.

The episode was brief. The drunkenness of power didn't harm anybody but Flandre's clone.

I didn't harm anyone, I simply won a very brief fight against a copy of Flandre. She wasn't the real deal, there's no need to feel guilty about it. I was about to be drained, and would have possibly died.

†Lord, put me under control.†

I must not lose myself to this power. Power corrupts. Power harms. It hurts others. It makes others look insignificant. It makes me look like a monster.

All that power does not deserve to be in the hands of those who cannot control it.

There was no way I could control myself on my own. I do not trust myself from ever escaping a megalomaniac episode. No way could I hold myself down before I end up losing control and end up hurting somebody.

†With all this power in my hands, I'm afraid.†

All this power came from the demon who read from an entire book, and the first thing that happened to me is losing control when I'm not possessed.

If I don't control my power, if I cannot control my inflated ego from this power, I might end up no longer calling myself equal with my fellow humans. Humans are weak, imperfect, and frail. I am a weak, imperfect, and frail human. I want to stay that way. Just because I could do these things, it will not change who I am. I am still that stubborn motherfucker who hated being in the seat of power (I am weak). I am still that son of a bitch who left his family because he couldn't take it anymore (I am frail). I am still that fuckhead who will pay back every bad thing he did (I am imperfect).

All this power without love and compassion?

I'll be no different from the demon that's currently inside me, eating away at my self-control.

There was only one person who I could turn to.

†Though these powers are wrought to me by the evil spirit, I will contribute it to You as a gift in my hands. Whatever whim You have to lead the events that end up with me having the power over fire, I put in all my faith that Your reasons are right and for the good of my being.†

If I don't want to give credit to the demon for giving this to me, might as well throw his stupid ass in the mud and thank the Lord instead. Turning me into a monster, that's what you'll get.

†Hear me, O Lord, when I beg. Keep me from myself. Protect me from myself. Protect my friends from myself. Keep me from falling over to the darkness. These powers will merit me nothing if I do not contribute or use them in Your name. Guide me, O Lord, to use these powers with control and discipline. Keep me in the same level as my neighbor, who are weak and vulnerable. Help me use this power for the sake of good. Help me use this power for the sake of ministry. Help me use this power for the sake of charity.†

A verse in the Book of Corinthians speak about power.

If you could speak all the languages that you could even talk to angels, have them do your bidding or listen to you, or even serve you but not have love: you're an annoying out-of-tune cymbal that's not fit to be in the drum set. It deserves to be bent apart by sledgehammers (just like every self-righteous son of a bitch I've met and broken).

If you got the power of Prophecy, could understand every mystery and secret of the world, had all the knowledge of the universe, and all the faith to move mountains (even literally) but not have love: you're nothing. You only think of yourself and nobody will pay attention to you once you fall, like nothing (just like those fuckheads from Westboro Baptist Church).

If you were to help the weak, the helpless, the needy, and the desperate, or even sacrifice yourself for the lives of many but not out of love: it'll all be for nothing. Every altruistic deed done without love is just like holding a selfie stick when you give a full McDonald's meal to a starving child (fuck everybody who does this).

I'm not like those people. I hate attention when I do good things. I don't want anybody praising my name just because I did something anybody could've done. I celebrate in silence. And I liked it that way. I do good things because I'm trying to change. Even though I hate being good, even though I will never be a good man, I will try to be a good man. The kind of man who will do good deeds for no reason, one that deserves God's blessing.

†Make me like Your son, O Lord. He was divine, but He stooped to our level just to understand us humans. He made Himself weak for our sakes. And so, make me weak again for the sake of my neighbor. I do not want to look down on anybody. I want to be an equal to my fellow humans. I want to continue serving. I want to continue helping. I want to continue being the way I am.†

I will remain the way I am: Imperfectly Human.

†Nothing is impossible to You, O Lord, therefore I have no doubt that You will accomplish this prayer of mine. Amen.†

At the sign of the cross. {Pangalan sa Ama, sa Anak, at sa Espirito Santo, Amen.}

Amen.

Deep breath.

Then exhale.

[Haaaah…..]

I stood up, and looked down on my hands again.

Lemme do that again.

Let's see here…..feel the passage of blood, starting from the center of my chest, then feel them spread out to the arms and legs.

Feels ticklish, it feels like I'm brewing up an adrenaline surge consciously. I even feel a little fidgety on the feet and fingers. My face twitched as well.

Now, brew fire…by thinking of fire….

No….that wasn't it…..

Oh….think of….burning….emotion….

Rage…..euphoria….hysteria….complete abandon of coherence for the sake of releasing a primal energy inside the human psyche that unlocks our most primitive side since the Stone Age.

Abandon intelligence…..

Abandon calm…

Feel, not think…..

Let the emotion take over.….

….….….….….

….….This is it, I could feel it….its flowing down to my hands…..these must be the fire energy….so much friction…

….it's warm…fluttery….but warm, a fiery side of warm. It hurts….but it's bearable….

They're in my hands now, I could feel my hand pulsating in the rhythm of my heartbeat. My heart was supplying the heat, my mind manipulated the flow of the fire energy, and my body needs to give it a spark.

One flick. That's all I need.

Hmm….

Hands spread wide, pale skin turning red probably from the pent-up energy in them, I twisted them around so it'll be palm facing the other.

If you're crazy and you know it, clap your hands.

*Clap clap*

*VHOOSH!*

[WHOOOHOOOOHOOOOO!] I DID IT! I DID IT! HOLY SHIT! I FUCKING DID IT! NO! No! I lost focus and they sapped out! [Okay, let's do that again.]

Rub-rub-rub-rub-rub-rub the hands together, brew up the heat in the palms aaaand—

*VHOOSH!*

[AH YES! YES! YES!] I fucking did it again! I could totally control my fires now! Danmaku battle, here I fucking come!

*SLAP!*

Ow. Thanks, Me, I needed that. It's kinda surprising that my palm was still on fire when I did it, how come my face didn't come off?

Damn, this is how it hurts, Marisa? I feel kinda pitiful now, you took these things like a champ. I couldn't keep count of how many times I hit ya with these.

Okay, Eman, you need to remind yourself with this: you're no different from anybody else in Gensokyo. You already got the hint that everybody here has their own powers, and manipulating fire is a very vanilla power. Marisa's human, and she casts magic. Reimu too, she has powers too. Even that silver-haired teacher in the village has powers, I saw her floating when she chased after me.

I'm no different from anybody else. I am probably the weakest among them. I am just fresh from acquiring these fires, and I haven't honed them for even a second yet. What's power if you don't know how to use it? All I know from this is just throw fireballs and that's it.

I gotta refresh my memory on cauterizing the wounds and making the fire shield again. All that was activated from my hysteria. I need to learn how to do so in a calmer state.

But that'll have to wait.

I need to get back into the fight.

Oh, Marisa's gonna be so proud once she takes a look at me.

[Alright, here we go.] Let's hype up for a bit. Okay, I'll hop a little. Now, lemme get my sensations back to my blood vessels. Now, build up the fire, and…. [FLAME ON!]

*VHOOOSH!*

Flame on the hands? Flame on the arms? Flame on the shoulders? Flames on the waist?

[Hell yeah….]

~~~~~ « ҉ » ~~~~~

In a wide arc, she swung the Sidhe Staff towards Flandre's head, the gemstone point leaving a blue trail. The Lævatein met it head on, causing a blue spark of light to emit and a spark of embers to erupt. Breaking the clash, Flandre quickly swung her sword in a diagonal angle and Marisa parried the strike before jabbing Flandre's middle with the bottom of her staff. The vampire was quick to recover and swung her sword of fire in a blinding 360, the trail of fire confusing Marisa's eyes before she could jump away. The ground exploded in a torrent of fire and wood as the Lævatein crashed down, sending Marisa flying away and landing on her back.

Using her Staff as a support, the Witch stood back up and wiped the sweat off her brow. That sword's way hotter than me. Jumping to the air, she spun the staff above her and slammed the point against the ground upon her landing, creating a great shockwave that shook more than a few bookshelves around her. As Flandre got blown backwards by the blast, the surrounding areas that were on fire were quickly extinguished, giving Marisa a lot of room to walk in.

Charging forward, she and Flandre traded blow for blow. Fire against pure Light magic, flashes and explosions erupted at any given time the two weapons struck against each other, whether a clash or a block. The very library shook in their conflict, reaching as far as the end of the entire room, books slipped out of the shelves, bookshelves precariously tilting, threatening to fall, chandeliers began to swing back and forth, the glass windows above had cracked from the force of the conflict—A true sight of magical combat that any outsider would ever be lucky to witness in the Outside World.

Danmakus and fireballs were thrown against each other, waves of fire against blasts from a beam of blue light, leaving scorched ground and burning property in their wake, the two combatants fought with their all.

And Eman can't wait to do the same.

Patience, patience.

His explosive fireball brewing in his hand, a recovered memory of proper steps to create one coming back to him before he arrived at the scene of the conflict, he held back from announcing his presence and awaited an opening. He just wanted to see how things are going, and by the looks of it, it's getting intense.

Oh, he'll be joining in the intensity. Fire and explosions everywhere, mixing in the chaos of cosmic destruction and scarlet hell. He entertained the thought of fighting with fire-fists or even a burning knife, oh the visual effects of that will be tremendous, especially if he asserts his agility into the fray.

His hand was starting to burn, and not in a bearable way. He's gonna have to join in soon, he needs that opening.

Marisa slammed the bottom of her staff to the floor once, twice, thrice, an explosion of blue light pushing Flandre away at each intensity. The vampire took to the air, waving the fire sword in wide arcs, sending waves of fireballs towards the witch. Instead of dodging like always, Marisa spun her staff in quick circles that it became a blur, swatting any fireball that came close and sending them off to another direction, a few returning towards Flandre.

After a continuous moment of deflecting, Marisa slammed the head of the staff straight to the ground, creating blue danmaku orbs from the impact and sending them off towards Flandre.

That's one.

Seeing his chance, he revolved his hands around the burning basketball-sized sphere on his hands for the last time before ejecting it forward, straight to the kid's flying form.

He missed but the shockwave of the explosion that followed when he struck the ceiling was powerful enough to send Flandre merely a few feet closer to the ground.

Two pairs of eyes turned towards him in complete shock; Flandre's mien was more questioning than surprised, Marisa was everything from astonishment to complete disbelief.

That's right, girls, that was me! His smile could not be contained anymore. Flushing more of the flames around the blood vessels of his upper body, he stomped the floor, smacked his fist to his palm, and his body erupted into flames. This time, the two shared the reaction of taking a step back at the display, especially when his eyes were not even black.

"Whoa! You did it, Eman-san!"

"Dude! Since when!?"

[Minutes ago!] He joyously replied, looking at his spread arms, flaming yellow all the way to his shoulders. [This is amazing! I could finally fight with danmaku now!]

"YAY!" Flandre clapped happily.

"Danmaku-five!" Marisa barked, throwing a simple yellow star towards him, trailing glitter.

"Danmaku-ten!" Eman returned, firing a fireball straight to the bullet and it was a direct hit. A tiny explosion of fire and sparkles erupted upon collision.

"Hell yeah!" Marisa pumped her fists, her staff fading out into the simple broom she always carried with her.

[Yes, indeed!] He approached Marisa with an open hand, fires on the entire right arm extinguished and exchanged a real high-five. Sharing one more smile, he turned to Flandre, [Flandre, change of plans!]

She nodded, plummeting back to the floors with a loud thud, opting to listen.

[All the rules we agreed on, forget them all!] He told, closing and opening his fist out of the anticipation. [Me 'n' Marisa are gonna team up for real. No more subbing. It's gonna be a two-on-one!]

Marisa stepped up, wearing a ready grin, "But it's not a two-on-one, right, Flan?"

Flandre nodded vigorously and she drew out another card, smiling like the time of her life. "«Taboo—Four of a Kind»!"

Eman's eyes narrowed, wondering what this spell card could be. After a few seconds, he immediately held his forehead, [OOooooooh….] He turned to Marisa, [Look at that, we got reversed!]

"I know, right?" She replied with an ironic grin, "We got two-on-oned-ze!"

[Haaah…] He let out a tired sigh, planting his hand to his head, but his grin still remained.

Four Flandres stood in a line, expressions and body positions a perfect match. They all look ready for a rough play.

Crackling his neck, Eman's entire right arm was encased with flame, his hand cradling an explosive fireball.

Marisa snapped her fingers and two white orbs revolved around her in a slow revolution, each one brimming with danmaku struggling to be let out.

"Ya wanna know one thing before we get it on, brah?"

[Yeah?]

Marisa quickly shined him a smile, "Welcome to the club. Yer one of us now."

The increase of heat coming from the enlarging ball of fire in Eman's hand exposed his elation at Marisa's words.

One Flandre stepped forward, two took to the air, and the original Flandre, which was the far left, swung her wand downwards and yelled, "GO!"

[Fire in the hole!] Eman lobbed the explosive right in the center of the clones.

As the explosion blew him backwards, Marisa and the vampires took to the air, apparently surviving and making Eman's efforts useless. Kip up back to his feet, he already began to throw his batch of spread shot fireballs, aiming at one vampire. Said vampire flew towards him head-on, firing back scarlet orbs and maneuvering in several directions to avoid getting hit.

Marisa already began firing once the explosion was gone, chasing around a hightailing pair of Flandres that were firing back ball-like patterns of danmaku back at her. The chase reached all over to the end of the library, the sound of danmaku bullets exploding and jeweled wings jingling followed in their dog fight. Lasers and mega-sized scarlet orbs filled the illumination of the library, destroying woodworks and generally leaving a mess all the way without a care.

As the vampire pair and witch whizzed by above a separate conflict between a man against two predators, a pillar of fire shot upwards to the ceiling from the spot. A Flandre clone was decimated from that attack, making the mistake of attempting a Death-from-above strategy when his palms were pointed upwards. She didn't last long against the St. Elmo's Pillar.

Lowering his hand down and facing forward, he was too late to dodge Flandre's tackle and he was sent to the floor on his back. I don't think so, kid. He smirked despite the pain and his waist suddenly lit aflame, burning Flandre's front before she got off him and flew several meters to the air. Kicking his legs up and back to his feet, he rapid-fired a streaming pattern of fireballs towards her flying form as he ran.

Flandre quickly flew upwards, then dived down in a twist, her red and white form careening towards him with the Lævatein poised for a joust. Casting the inferno in his arms, he blew into it and sent a flamethrower for just one second before diving out of the way. Having seen the flamethrower coming, she flew upwards and sent a few scarlet orbs towards his lying form.

He looked behind him and he quickly rolled to the side, smoothly executing a TD-Raiz upon coming to his knees and followed up with a corkscrew, his feet firing a wave of fireballs back at her. As Flandre continued to fire her bullets, Eman did not stop tumbling. He discovered a secret: he kept nearly getting hit by her bullets, and a load of them nicked his skin several times; that pushed him into an adrenaline rush, and from that adrenaline rush came the invigoration of his mental state. That drive proved to be fuel to his Fire Core, filling his blood vessels with vast amounts of fire energy. His every movement is the flick needed to activate it.

I won't even have to concentrate on firing, I'll just have to tumble and my body will do the rest!

Cartwheel.

Sideflip.

Cartwheel.

B-twist.

Where he would wave his hands or feet, a wave of fireballs streamed out of them like a submachine gun being fired in a sweeping motion. His efforts left the general environment around him riddled with fire and ash; he was no longer aiming at Flandre anymore, he was doing this for the style points. In a far view, his patterns are a sight to behold, shaped like a flower about to bloom with his tumbling in the center of it all.

Flicking his feet up, a double-stream of fireballs swept in an upward motion from his soles, their direction heading towards Flandre's haggard form, her red-white dress riddled with burnt marks and ash, showing the lucky hits. As his feet landed to the ground, he smoothly rolled backwards to a stand and slammed his fists to the ground, sending out a cloud of fireballs around him.

I'm on fucking fire! The act simulated his fighting spirit even more.

As he ran to another location, his body spewed out fire in numerous directions at his every exertion, front and back, right and left, and even up to down. Even simply lifting a finger is considered a flick for the fires to light up. From this ordeal, he was remembering the steps of the flower-shaped clusters upon looking at his explosive handiwork spread out all around him.

I think….I think I got it. I remember….It's like plugging a hose: you press your thumb in, the water will instead spray in an arc or like a funnel if you angle it right.

Let's try it.

He imaged the muzzle of the garden hose in his palms. Upon running across a fallen bookshelf and jumping off it to create another cloud of fireballs to spread out around him upon landing his feet, he got the image of a 'thumb' to press down on the muzzle.

Now we will just turn the faucet.

Sharply taking in a deep breath, he executed the 180 corkscrew, his body turning upside down in midair and twisting slowly before landing on his feet, blowing out another cloud of fireballs and turning the 'faucet'.

The results went as expected: the Agni Shine spewed out of his palm, the patterns of the clusters from both palms coinciding and shaped the image of a fiery yellow rose before the formation dispersed. Flandre flew above the formation but Eman saw it coming: as he fired the first shot, he ejected an explosive fireball to follow behind it, angling its flight right above the path in case Flandre swerves upwards to dodge the first attack.

*BWOSH!*

A direct hit.

He grinned in satisfaction as the vampire exploded into a cloud of red mist upon collision.

He allowed a few seconds to pass before he finally slumped his body to his knees and exhaled a sigh of relief. [Whew….that was fun….let's do that again…] He said drolly.

Relaxing his nervous system to let the magical furnace inside him to dim down, his body suddenly felt a little cold. Feels like I just had a fever of 43 degrees and it suddenly plummeted to normal. He wondered if his body temperature served as a factor to his emotion-trigger….or was it just the fire energy doing that?

Fixing his rosary back into proper position in front of his chest, he grasped it and muttered, {Salamat, Panginoo.}

He'll have to make that a habit from now on. He will not leave a fight with an inflated ego after every victory. It's not good for a Christian's health.

[Alright, what do we do next from here?] He asked, looking around the air for the supposed witch and vampire duo duking it out. He could hear the explosions but where were the causes? It's hard to tell where given that the place is very wide and the echoes seemed to be coming from everywhere.

"«Forbidden Barrage—Catadioptric»!"

Behind me. Of course. He sarcastically remarked in his thoughts before diving out of the way, a giant teardrop orb slamming his recent position and bounced diagonally upwards, leaving clusters of danmaku to trail behind it.

He tilted his head at the sight, fascinated by the nature of the explosion. Fancy spell card. Looking towards the source of the teardrop, he could already see a monochrome figure on a broom in the air firing bullets and lasers in horrifying quantities. The kid was the one who activated the spell card, her hands spewing out either 4 or 5 giant tear drops in each swing of her hand. Smaller tear drops leaked out of the vampires hands along with the larger ones, giving variety to the attack. As they bounced from whatever surface they touched, leaving a smoking crater, he found out that staying in one place might not be a good idea.

He ran, keeping his eyes on the air to make sure no giant teardrop gets the drop on him while at the same time keeping an eye in front of him to make sure he doesn't trip over a misplaced book. Marisa was doing expertly in dodging the giant globs, firing back without problem while doing so. Eman envied her efficiency and combat experience but quickly dismissed the thought. He'll get there, he'll get strong. Nobody becomes strong under one day after all. It took him 4 months to learn the B-Boy Flare.

Seeing one glob about to come towards him, he front flipped in a diagonal direction, the ground shaking as the teardrop slammed the surface and bounced back up, the smaller danmaku that accompanied each impact missing him since he was already far. Thinking that he was now in the fine distance of the conflict, he lit up the furnace and let the heat course down his waist and into his legs.

I did the fire-fists already, why don't we do the fire legs next?

As quickly as fusing the heat straight to his bare calves and ankles, leaving his feet to be the only part covered thanks to his shoes, they instantly lit aflame the sooner they landed a step on the floors. He smirked ironically. I wish I could run fast with these. They would've looked cool.

He needs a lot of distance, but not far enough to make sure his shots reaches the target before the fireballs lose their magic and disappear in midair.

After a bit of running, he arrived at an opening. Many bookshelves were toppled around him but the area is stable enough to accommodate a flat ground for his performance. Now, we just Dance. He smirked at the delight of next action.

After kicking off any book that was scattered on his toppled bookshelf, his hands readied the pinwheel, and he let loose.

Judo kicks, taekwondo kicks, wushu kicks, every other martial art that had a kick in its arsenal, he executed them all. Considering that he was in no hurry and had just a less chance of getting hit by any stray danmaku bullet, he made sure to add grace and fluidity in his movements. The game's all about beauty after all.

While he danced the tricking, his fiery legs always swung in any direction in front of him, sending waves upon waves of fireballs. For some reason, the fireballs always fly in the direction he wanted it to go: when he executed a head-kick, where the leg will be arcing upwards instead of forwards, the fireballs fly forward instead. Despite this oddity, he didn't question it and instead used it to his advantage. Sooner or later, he's going to consider himself a dancing fighter like Lateef Crowder if his status as a berserker doesn't get much spotlight.

He didn't care much about hitting anybody anymore, he's here to make a show. That's how he'll play the Beauty part of the Spell Card Battle.

After a myriad of fireballs were sent, he quickly changed gear to the Capoeira, with a mix of B-Boy. He let a beat and rhythm play in his head, guiding his movements in an impromptu pattern and making his executions very fluid. The only thing missing from his performance was a boom box playing some hard rap in the background. If he tries to examine his patterns, they are looking quite refined in this style. He could almost see his wave of fireballs accidently making squares and triangles. He even witnessed a moment where a formation of a perfect star was made. From what movement he made it from, he completely forgot.

"Hey!" Marisa's voice was good enough to break his rhythm and send him toppling to the floor just like the bookcase he danced on.

[Wha-what!?] He asked as he turned around to face her, more annoyed than surprised for breaking the flow of his dance.

"Show them moves to her! She's comin' in-ze!" She ordered, pointing past him.

He looked over his shoulder and there was a red bullet about to blast him across the face. [Yikes!] He quickly spun his body around with his hands, his feet staying erect before he began swinging one leg below him; the coffee grinder. His fireballs streaming out in circles around him, he fluidly switched to the B-boy flare when he saw Flandre's colorful wings in his peripheral vision.

From his dance, he created a full-bloomed flower. Petals fully splayed out in all directions, some of the fireballs that shot out from his foot would suddenly stop in midair, freezing at the right places to complete the formation; all he needed to do was to keep spinning and flaring. If the display wasn't satisfying to all who has seen far more beautiful formations, then Eman compensated with his dances.

As Marisa kept Flandre busy, keeping the vampire focused on her and away from her flightless comrade so he could continue doing his thing, she was starting to wonder if he's ever going to make a second spell card any time. This dance of his would make a nice addition to his deck. He was an emotion-trigger pyromancer, and any action that stimulated his emotions are the mark of his power. His fancy dancing clearly plucks a string in him somewhere, she'll have to ask about it later.

One flare.

Two flares.

Three flares.

Four flares.

The last flare.

His dizziness about to reach its breaking point, he stacked back to his feet, jumped off the fallen bookcase with a front flip and slammed his fists to the ground.

The flower burned; every fireball that was left to elevate in the air is now sent flying forward, making short work of filling the entire space surrounding the middle with nothing but extreme heat and flame.

Marisa figured out the pattern ahead of time and came out unscathed.

Flandre was not so lucky. Due to the speed of the projectiles and the suddenness of the movement, her front was instantly charred black and she fell to the floors.

Eman collapsed to his knees and on his hands, his exhaustion nearly reaching the breaking point. Looks like his above-average supply of stamina is starting to run out. He won't be able to continue dancing, running, tumbling, or even throwing fireballs at this rate.

I guess I'm out of commission, then. He submitted, and he chuckled despite himself. [Oof!]

"Nice work!" Marisa slammed him to the ground with a friendly slap to the back. "When'd ya learn them moves, eh!? You some kinda dancer troupe before or somethin'?"

[Grrrr…] His energy was instantly revitalized. He failed to realize that there was somebody else that needs a beating. He turned to her with a hard glare, speaking in gritted teeth, [Just what were you doing….!? Can't you see I'm fucking tired here!?]

"Yeah, I could see that!" She answered, her tone giving the vibe that she did not realize what she just did, "So, were you in a dance troupe or somethin' back outside?"

Eman's head suddenly lit aflame, and in this variation, there was black smoke coming out of it. If his Energetic Fires were yellow or orange like any other fire and perfectly smokeless, his Furious Fires were tinged with shades of red, and the smell of ash accompanied the smoke.

Sneering his teeth, the burning hot rage manifested in the form of red hot flames that coated his arms, he rose up to his feet, his exhaustion all but ignored and—

*kling kling. kling.*

Both heads snapped to the direction of the sound, the tension in-between them forgotten as they witnessed the vampire girl rising to her feet, albeit shakily and she looked quite exhausted herself.

"Had 'nough, Flan?" Despite the question, Marisa did not carry a condescending intonation in her voice.

Eman was starting to suspect just how considerate to children, human or not, this infuriating witch was. For that reason, he can't stay mad for long. It made the hot fires go away, the smell of smoke and ash disappearing, and the increase of the heat vanishing entirely, delivering a somewhat warm air around him and Marisa.

"Not yet….hah…hah…..I'm not tired yet." Flandre rasped through her exhaustion, her shoulders rising up and down in her every breath and her grip on her Lævatein was quite slack.

[It surprises me that you're still standing, Flandre.] Eman commented, his voice carrying his full honesty. He gave the girl a smile, [You're a strong girl. Human or not, I think I'm starting to like you.]

The child returned a grateful smile, then she drew out one more card from her deck, holding it by her side, "One….more…card."

Eman and Marisa shared a glance, sharing a silent but brief discussion together with eye-contact before turning back towards Flandre. "Sure." Marisa nodded.

[Bring it on, kid.] Eman readied a fighting stance, fists up with no fires conjured on his being for some reason. [Show me the spunk of the Beautiful Vampire, Flandre Scarlet.]

His words was motivation enough for Flandre to regain her energy back, her grip on her wand locked tightly, and she declared the card over her forehead. "«Secret—And Then Will There Be None?»"

She suddenly vanished.

[What the?]

"Get on!" Without even waiting she just grabbed his arm and threw him to the broom behind her, earning a yelp and an irritated growl from the man. She was disappointed that he didn't land in-between the legs on the shaft; that would've been hilarious. "Flan's gone invisible, she's gonna be untouchable while that Spell Card's active."

Boring a hole on the witch's head with his hard glare, he adjusted his seat on the broom, legs on either side instead of one side; a horseback stance just like Marisa. He wrapped one arm around her waist and the other lying atop his knife holster, ready to whip it out once needed. "Your plan?"

Without looking back at him, her calm voice betrayed the hyped-up grin on her face, "We're gonna have a little joy ride-ze."

And then Marisa just blasted off the ground, nearly losing his grip and falling off the magical cleaning material, flying towards seemingly nowhere. When he looked back behind him, trying to see if they were running away from something, that something took the form of a big ball of blue light that seemed to be chasing after them!

[Hey, what is that thing chasing after us!?] He asked in a shout amidst the roaring speed.

"That's her!" Marisa shouted back, suddenly taking sharp turns that would have sent Eman flying off if he hadn't had one hand around her waist. This time he opted to just hold on with both hands together, "Don't bother shootin', you'll just hit air!"

Looking behind him once again, the big ball of blue light that was Flandre was quick in its flight, and it was leaving a long trail of danmaku as it/she flew after them. From Eman's opinion, it looked like she was trying to collide herself against them.

Wait, was there a second one before?

There was another one big ball of blue light, appearing from completely out of nowhere and was swiftly pursuing them in sharp angles like a rigid snake, leaving behind danmaku trails like the first. The path they passed through, they left a completely white environment ruled by white danmaku floating in the air like bubbles.

After several tight turns and other maneuvers, Eman looked behind him once again, hoping to assess the situation. His eyes widened in both horror and complete exasperation.

A third!?

A sudden barrel roll brought his thoughts out of the increased predicament of the situation and focused on not falling off the broom. The fate of the battle is left entirely to Marisa's hand, and he prayed silently as he held on for dear life, nearly squeezing the life out of the witch with his grip.

It continued on like that, Marisa continued to bob and weave in flight, Flandre continued to drift in her invisible form and attempted to cage the two humans with everything she had, sometimes teleporting in their flight path and try to outsmart them with an ahead strike. The vampire even had to pelt the entire library with everything, filling every space in the air with danmaku, leaving nowhere for a breathing room, to potentially box the two humans in.

Marisa, however, had spent so much time in the years fighting and solving incidents since she met Flandre, she encountered the most complex danmaku patterns and the most precarious battles, some even worse than Flandre, and she conquered them all. Flandre barely had time to do any Spell Card Battles at all, her times of ever being in conflict with danmaku are almost void of difficulty and rare enough that they could be counted. Even with an extra-load behind her back and clamping down her waist, Marisa barely had any trouble to face Flandre's Spell Card the second time.

"Any minute now~~!" Marisa sung, making a sharp turn to the right and spinning in a barrel roll.

Eman was about to lose it, the 'joy ride' had been nothing but sudden sharp turns, couple of loops, so many barrel rolls and more sharp turns. He read from a book that Fighter Jet pilots would have to keep tensing their calves and thighs to counter G-force and not lose consciousness, their requirement was good physical fitness, especially the lower half of their bodies and the abdomen. He may have passed the physical fitness test but apparently have lacked the amount of intense flight training they had and his eyelids were steadily drooping, threatening him to sleep, especially if he was nearing exhaustion, but with the danger of the situation kept in mind he managed to keep his consciousness intact, but not for long. His will could only hold back the exhaustion for so long. He's been leaning against Marisa's back more than he was supposed to.

The chase had been going on for 10 minutes straight.

Come on…! Show yourself, Flandre! I'm about to fucking drop here!

The three balls of light disappeared, and the trail they left behind too vanished together.

Eman frowned at the sudden occurrence. What the? Does this mean—Whoa!

"Alright, the spell card's timed out. Now we just gotta find her…" Marisa remarked, swerving the broom around and heading back to the direction of Flandre's last known location. All without breaking the 180 mph speed. "Just keep an eye out an' we can get this over with-ze."

Shaking his head to clear out the sleepiness, he looked below at the passing toppled bookshelves and scattered books. He was amazed at how much of a mess it was prior to hours ago, [She'll be hard to find in this mess.]

"Whaat?" Marisa gave him an incredulous glance, as if he had just said the stupidest thing ever. "Come on, dude. I could find the Necronomicon in this mess!"

[…..There's a Necronomicon?]

"C'mon, it's kinda like dodgin' danmaku." Marisa continued like she didn't even hear him, "Same principle but different application. Like findin' a gap to slip through."

Eman just sighed, already feeling dozy after the first 6 words. [I'll just find her my way. No way she could hide with them wings.]

"O-or that, yeah! Good thinkin'!"

He gave her an odd stare. Were you too much in the bragging that you didn't even think that up?

"THERE!" Marisa barked, pointing at the myriad of tiny lights and the tiny form of Flandre shooting her danmaku at them.

Eman smirked, already lighting up the fires on his legs. [Dip down and throw me forward!]

Marisa instantly complied, curving downwards to the floor and skimming across it before suddenly stopping, fusing the momentum towards the load of baggage behind her and did a stationary loop-de-loop, throwing the human bullet that was Eman straight towards Flandre.

Midflight, he curled into a ball, infused his entire body with heat energy, and he officially became the first Outsider to ever be the literal Human Fireball.

Flandre stared in awe for simply one and a half seconds before she moved to the side, the organic fireball flying by and crashing to the floor, the fires extinguishing and the human inside rolling sideways before stopping.

[Ow…! Damn…..okay, didn't go 'ccording to plan….!] He spoke through gritted teeth, rising up shakily while holding his side and left shoulder.

"Are you okay?" She asked, tilting her head.

He turned to her with a pained smile, speaking through a forcefully calm voice, [Feelin' fine, kid. Don't forget that you got two enemies.]

"Huh?"

"Don't look away, Flan!" An energetic feminine voice hollered behind her.

The vampire twisted around and quickly blocked the broom from slamming her head with her wand. Pushing the cleaning material off, she swung for Marisa's waist and the witch jerked her hips back. Flandre didn't stop from there: she began to swing in whatever direction she pleased, using her vampiric speeds to compensate for the lack of finesse in her swordplay. Marisa, still amazing since the day she met the human girl, blocked every blow. It almost seemed like the witch knew where she was about to swing, knew which strike she couldn't block in time, and she even twirled her broom behind her just for her amusement.

Flandre did not miss that Marisa mirrored her gleeful smile, even as the vampire swung at speeds that could potentially kill a human outside the boundaries of the Spell Card System. When she let herself be vulnerable and give the human a chance to take a blow, the witch took it: swinging in speeds that weren't possible for any average human wielding what is practically a polearm weapon. Flandre returned the favor by blocking every one, the wood of the broom making loud placks in every collision to her wand. The vibrations in her hands made her giggle.

[Flandre!] A masculine voice roared behind her.

Marisa looked past the kid's shoulder and smirked. "Switch!" She barked before dashing backwards using flight and taking to the air.

Twisting around just in time, Flandre blocked the fiery sideflip kick with her wand, sending her skidding a few feet away before dashing forward, Lævatein arched backwards for a hammering blow. He quickly side-stepped before throwing a fiery fist to her temple, which she dodged by dashing sideways and striking with an upward diagonal swing. The man quickly went prone to the floor on all fours, the wand hitting empty air before he jumped to the air, executing a crescent kick towards her face, the burning appendage creating a whoosh sound in flight.

When Flandre attempted to block the kick, a sputter of fire sparks exploded upon contact, surprising the vampire and making her stumble a few steps back. Eman simply landed back to the floors on one foot, the discomfort of slamming his ankle against a thin pole not showing as he began to tumble with his legs on fire. Flandre watched in awe as Eman began to dance and tumble at the same time, the mesmerizing flare of his burning legs made the display all too captivating that even Marisa was enraptured.

A helicopter cartwheel, followed up by a walkover before a sideflip, then he executed it.

Spin.

Step.

TD Raiz.

Due to Flandre's childish amazement, she almost got her face stomped before she realized that she was supposed to be fighting and quickly dashed to the side, her vampiric speeds cracking the floors on her feet.

As the fires on his feet disappeared upon landing, his left fist instantly erupted into flames as he fluidly twisted around and struck towards her chest.

Barely expecting it coming, she dashed backwards once again, the burning fist merely bumping against her chest. Not good enough to be considered a hit but the heat, however, made her consider.

As Eman smacked his left fist to his open palm, the unlit right hand caught fire and he equipped a stance that looked oddly familiar to Meiling's. Marisa suddenly landed beside him with a thump, spinning her broom above her before holding it behind her, her fighting stance stiff and ready.

Despite how unfair her position was, being the only opponent against two, Flandre smiled fervently. This had been the bestest danmaku game she had ever played after so many years. Whether she wins or not, it doesn't even matter at this point. She had fun, and she will see it to the end.

Reverting to the old ways of her kind, she raised her upper lip, baring sharp teeth and fangs, creased her eyebrows to wear the scariest face she could ever manage, and she hissed.

While Eman was the one to be taken aback, Marisa struck first: spinning around once and swinging her broom diagonally downwards. That was motivation enough for the man to forget his fears and do the same; spinning around once and throwing a diagonally downward punch burning with fire. Slapping away the broom, she blocked the fist and her grip on the wand shook when the collision caused a tiny explosion that sent Eman stumbling backwards.

Marisa quickly followed up with a horizontal swing, which Flandre dodged in a twirl and struck back with a horizontal swing as well. Marisa easily dodged the strike and barely moved out of the way when the vampire threw a scarlet orb.

[Woagh!] A hoarse bark drew the kid's attention and she nearly did a dance as she grazed several fireballs flying towards her. His bolting sprint building up the momentum, he entertained a simple front flip, lighting his body on fire before slamming down a fist. When Flandre simply side-stepped out of the way, she didn't expect him to bounce like a ball upon landing and she received a fiery sideflip-dropkick as a result.

"Oof!" She yipped as she fell on her backside, her wings rattling in the impact before she quickly rose up to her feet.

Marisa took to the air, firing her danmaku. Flandre quickly flew up to her level, firing back with bullets of her own. They took a little chase, swerving and curving in numerous directions with Flandre as the chaser and Marisa as the one being chased before the latter stopped firing, skimmed the ground. Flandre quickly tailed her, only to be led to a waiting Eman with an explosive fist ready to hit her face.

The vampire was quick enough to dodge it, whip a free arm across his legs and trip him to the floor as his fist hit nothing but air. Quickly coming back to his feet by kicking his legs up, he and Flandre clashed with burning fist against wand. Flandre either blocked his fists or dodge them, landing either a graze or a direct hit of her Lævatein. She received a firm punch to the side and a single kick to her leg, however, and each of them burned.

When he suddenly grabbed her wand, she quickly flew upwards, bringing him up and she swung him sideways, throwing him off but failing to dodge the explosive danmaku star that struck her back and blew her to the ground. Landing in a heap, she quickly rose up to her feet and threw a cluster of scarlet orbs behind her before advancing with her wand.

Marisa took on the aggressive approach, grazing the red bullets and swung her broom in a wild frenzy, her years of experience in her 'broomplay' made her movements appear practiced and uncontrolled in such a questionably unified manner. Flandre's dexterity helped her keep up but there were sometimes too many surprise attacks and parries that she couldn't see them coming until she was hit.

Diagonal swing, the bottom of the broom quickly jabbed itself to her abdomen once blocked. Catching movement at the corner of her eyes, Marisa swiped the whisk upwards, brushing Flandre's face to stun her before quickly swinging it towards her gut hard enough to make her stumble backwards.

The witch quickly took to the air when the vampire suddenly began firing scarlet orbs in front of her, their aim undefined and lacked finesse; a desperate attack. With Marisa out of the picture, Flandre switched targets and swung the Lævatein behind her upon hearing running footsteps coming closer.

Eman had to slide under the wand instead of ducking considering her short size. Once out of the danger, he quickly executed the backhand spring, flicking away from Flandre's wild swings. She was easily catching up to him, he even felt the spaded point of the weapon nicking his damaged shoes.

Luckily, Marisa was there to provide cover: shooting blue danmaku with precise accuracy towards Flandre without hitting the acrobatic man, giving him breathing room as the vampire cannot focus on hitting Eman and dodging danmaku at the same time.

Eman executed the final spring, flicking his feet up and spinning rapidly in the air. Marisa grabbed the broom with both hands and held it out horizontally towards him, successfully making Eman's two feet land exactly on the shaft before she pushed him out with all her might, making him do a corkscrew spin again in the air—dodging the blurry swing of the wand that was coming for him and Marisa blocked it from hitting her neck the sooner she saw it coming.

Marisa finally noticed that man's right hand has been brewing and burning with fire energy, for how long, Marisa doesn't know. He was containing it, building up pressure before he's letting it out. Oh, I see what yer doin'.

With a smirk, she thought: With a bang, we go!

As Eman finally landed on the ground, Marisa pushed her weapon against the clash with every ounce of strength she had and Flandre got kicked forward from behind as she staggered backwards towards him. The witch struck towards the vampire's abdomen as soon as she came into close distance, and the man struck again with another kick to her back. Using the bottom of her vehicle, she struck an underhand towards the Lavætein, successfully knocking the wiggly weapon off her hands and flying over their heads, leaving the owner unarmed.

Seeing his cue, he sent Flandre one final forward kick, making her stumble forward to a distance as Marisa moved out of the way. As soon as the witch was positioned right in front of him, he steeled his guts, hardened his will, pushed out the last of his reserves to his burning right hand, and he placed his free hand on her slouched back, vaulting over her before Marisa pitched him upwards to the air with a push.

If Eman plans to end the fight with a bang, then Marisa's pride will not let herself by outdone by a greenhorn.

As she took to the air, she fished out a flask of explosive secretion, a mixture made from a still-beating heart of a monster that had oil in its blood. Thank you, Yukari! The Youkai sage sure knew her taste in explosions and flashiness when she gifted her this along with the rest of the artifacts.

After shaking the container, the liquid inside turning hot red, she watched as Eman's fist finally slammed to the ground in front of Flandre's feet, causing an eruption of pure explosive fire energy in the same magnitude as three grenades clumped together. The force definitely blew him away, his form careening backwards through the air like a ragdoll, but Flandre managed to escape, only barely.

Due to the force of the blast and the loudness of the explosion, the kid was floppily staying in the air, disoriented and shaking her head, her wings flapping erratically, jingles now a confused distortion,.

Now's my chance.

With an aiming eye, she threw the explosive straight towards Flandre with all her might, her eyes turning into tunnel vision, attention fully planted on the container and nothing else.

Due to the volatile nature of the liquid, it had to be contained in a very durable vessel (sometimes enchanted) if she doesn't want it to spontaneously explode once oxygen leaks through a crack. Thankfully, she applied the enchantment to the flask with the properties of biological magic, guaranteeing that her magic and only her own magic that contained her DNA could break that flask apart. An oni could pull it off though but Marisa could count the number of people matching their strength with her hand.

And so, Marisa closed one hand to a fist, extended an index finger, then the thumb, and she aimed the pistol at the vial. Before it could whiz past Flandre's head as she watched it fly with her hyper ocular dexterity, the Ordinary Witch fired a laser from the point of her finger and uttered the single little word she promised Eman how this fight would definitely end.

"BANG!"

*BOOOOOOOOM!‼!*

"WHOA!"

She thought she overestimated the magnitude of the red variation of the explosive vial. No, it still wasn't enough. Her hypothesized description of the red's explosion intensity is officially considered an underestimation.

The explosion was powerful enough to crack the ceiling, bright enough to blind a fairy to death, powerful enough to knock back every bookshelf that existed within the library and send them toppling to the floors, the majority of the woodworks that were nearby it quickly turned into splinters, and it blasted Marisa all the way to the back of the library.

As she slammed her back against the wall and crashed in a heap to the floors, her battle-hardened body meeting the floor in full-force, she couldn't hear anything except that loud ringing in her ears, her breathing shallow. As she flopped to her back, breathing sporadically as the trauma in her eyes were practically glowing, she couldn't stop herself from smiling despite her condition.

With the glory of no regrets, she raised a thumb to the air and forced out through gritted teeth, "….Wo-worth…it…..!"

The Spell Card Battle now concludes.

The Crazy Star Team wins.

~~~~~ « ҉ » ~~~~~

….….….….….….….

….….….….….….….….….….

He must've lost his sense of time.

….….….….….….….

….….….….….….….….….….

He wasn't sure if it was 10 minutes had passed since the explosion. Or was it 30 minutes? His ears still rung, but not intensely like before.

….….….….….….….

….….….….….….….….….….

His body ached, courtesy of the terrifying explosion that sent him flying even further through the library and had him rolling over rough edges of toppled bookcases and large books. The amount of distance he covered, he doesn't know. Given from the number of places his body ached, counting to a possible 32, it must've been very far, or maybe there was just so many toppled shelves and giant books he slammed against in his flight.

….….….….….….….

He wasn't sure if he blinked his eyes or anything. He has been looking at the same domed ceiling the entire time. His mind was too blank, any coherent thought was held back from passing through his head thanks to the ringing. Thanks to its intensity lessening, however, he could gather just one simple thought:

What the fuck happened?

….….….….

His hand twitched, his face did the same.

Then he consciously blinked, once again, twice, four times, then he shut them fully close.

….….

His hands shook, but he forced himself through the locks and he barely crumpled his hand into a fist. It was stiff, it was a very shaky effort, but he still made a fist.

He turned his head to the side, eliciting a snap on the neck bone, and he groaned in pleasure. Ah, hell yeah.

With a guttural grunt, he twisted to the side, his unhindered arm slackly falling flat to the ground before it slowly, shakily, but surely reached up to his head. He covered his left ear.

The ringing in his ears became bearable.

Finally, he was able to speak out.

[Fuuuuuckiiingg heeeeeeeelllll…!‼] The curse came out in the deepest growl he could muster.

Adjusting his hands carefully, he rolled to his front, his temple resting on top of his right forearm. This position feels comfortable. Though he was ready to throw himself to the loving embrace of sleep, hoping to have a beautiful dream where he could sin endlessly within, he opened one eye, his other hand splayed out beside him.

Throwing just one more coal into his dying furnace, he let just the tiniest amount of fire energy travel to his hand. Twisting his wrist a little, making the side of his palm rest against the floor, he let middle finger and thumb touch together and….

*Snap!*

His mood elated immensely: in-between his thumb and index finger, was a tiny little candlelight.

Not a dream. He thought with a smile as he watched the little flame die out, his mental focus on the energy in his hand waning, the furnace fires dying away. Then, it was gone.

He isn't holding the rosary, but he did it anyway. He's too exhausted to even try, {Salamat, Panginoo.} He breathed.

He once thought of trying to take advantage of the feeling of fulfillment to give himself a dose of energy just to see if it works. Though, in this situation, it just made him even sleepier. With nothing to do anymore, what next could he do? There doesn't seem to be anything he has to do anymore. Flandre's defeated, he and Marisa won, and he got to keep his power over fire. Sleep is the only thing he has to do left. Tomorrow, he'll feel like a new man.

His assessment: Elation won't revitalize him but it'll guarantee a very beautiful sleep.

Night, Fantasy World. 'Be back once I'm done raping the demons of my Dream World.

Closing his eyes, steadying his breathing, and putting himself in a peaceful state of mind, he awaited the arrival of the passage to his world, where he will be God and freely do as he wishes.

…

….…

.….….

….….….….

….….….….….

….….….….….….

….….….….….….….zz—

Something cold grabbed his shoulder.

Hm?

His eyes shot open, drowsiness instantly forgotten, and the painful aches crashed back to his senses at full force. [Aaagghh!]

"Oh, I'm sorry, Eman-san!"

That cold something rolled him over to his back, and the simple act of moving made him simulate hell. He was feeling paresthesia, the intense prickling sensation inside the skin if a limb that has lost all its blood needed to be pumped back. Moving a limb while it suffers such conditions could only be painful for anybody.

Once again, I can't get a fucking wink of sleep!

[AAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHH!‼!‼!‼‼!‼!‼!]

If anyone hadn't known any better, they might have taken that guttural bellow as the awakening of a long, slumbering behemoth roused to continue its rampage of destruction on all the land.

His breathing gone labored once again, his four limbs prickling like crazy, sensations reminiscent to being literally skinned off, and feeling like cracked glass, he turned to the person who dared interrupt his sleep without turning his head.

He instantly sighed in exasperation. Of course, it's Flandre again. If he was raising his head up to look at her, he would've slammed it back down on the floor just to relieve himself of the pounding headache that's just trying to destroy his sanity.

[Why'd you wake me up?] He asked, his irritation unhidden and clear as day.

Flandre was taken aback by his heated tone, "I...I was just concerned." She softly explained, "You look kind of hurt." Her words only made Eman's eyes narrow at her, then she realize the kind of words she used to describe the state of his wellbeing. "Sorry."

The little vampire looked quite unkempt compared to the last few hours ago when he met her in his bedroom: where she once had a red vest over a white blouse, that vest is either burned away or discarded due to its destroyed state that it was no longer fit to be worn anymore. She only had her blouse to bear, and some places are marked black from the explosion, especially her shoulder. Her red skirt was burned short, the edges blackened by a recent burning, reaching up to her thighs. Looking down, she seemed to be wearing rather old-fashioned underwear. A proper wear when she could fly. Her hat's gone too, and Eman could admit that he felt disappointed. She looked cute with that hat on. Now her bleached blonde hair is bare to the world. Her little side-ponytail is the only thing that survived.

Ignoring her haggard state, the tired look in her eyes, and her dirty ash-caked skin, she looked fine. No injuries whatsoever, no bruises or anything.

He sighed, [You should'a just left me here to die.]

"Oh…" She looked down, though more out of realization than out of guilt. Eman's stare became questionable at this gesture. She lifted up her eyes back to him, "If you die, can I drink your blood?"

…..

She's not human. She's not human. He repeatedly reminded himself, his shock leaving him completely gobsmacked. That was literally the first time he ever heard such a very Youkai-like response. Compared to every fuckery that Gensokyo threw at him, this one took the cake REALLY hard.

He cleared his throat, hiding his flabbergasted interior, […..s-sure, but make sure you check my heartbeat first, okay? Check if I'm alive or not.] He hastily added. [And I'm still alive—stating the obvious—and will remain that way for a very long time so don't you do anything funny. Now let me lie here in peace.] He closed his eyes, though he left one eye nearly closed, keeping an eye on the kid.

"Why not go to the guest rooms?" She suggested, "It's not comfortable there. A bed's more comfy."

[If I move, it'll only make my condition worse.] He quickly objected, testing his hands. It seemed stable, including the whole arm and the other. His legs are still filling up the lost blood, and the pins and needles are still there. [Well, gimme a couple o' seconds, maybe a minute.]

"Okay."

Afterwards, the two went into conversation, some topics either mundane or purely nonsensical. Eman took his time in telling the time of his days as a tricker once she asked about how was he good at dancing, how he turned it into a martial arts, and he even went into full-detail about his time with his other tricker friends. Flandre looked entertained with his stories, especially if he adds in some of his famous Eman epic-fails.

At some point, she got a little sleepy, yawning and rubbing her eyes. It seems the exhaustion is finally getting to her. She rested her upper body on top of Eman's bare abdomen with permission, folding her hands and resting her head atop it, closing her eyes, her side-ponytail splayed atop his waist, tickling him a little. He was slightly uneasy, especially if this child nearly drank him a few times prior before and in the middle of a fight, but the innocent and peaceful look on her face as she doze dissuaded any worry. It looked like he simply had a cute little girl with dirty clothes and fancy wings sleeping on top of his belly. He relaxed his stiff abdomen and let it rise and fall in a rhythm, reaching forward with his hands and giving her bleached blonde head a healthy kneading. One hand reached to her back, giving it gentle pats and soothing rubs below the base of her wings, making sure the kid gets comfortable before she goes away to sleeping.

In this moment, a fuzzy feeling came to him. It was old, nearly forgotten at that, but he never forgot what it was.

Peace.

He sighed contentedly, patting her little head.

So, this is Gensokyo, huh? You fight an enemy and you make up like this afterwards….it's not so bad. I think I'll get used to this easily.

[Hey, Flandre?]

Only one cherry red eye opened, looking at him sleepily but attentively, "Yes?"

[Tomorrow…..] He paused, gathering himself for a moment to add more resolve for the next thing he'll say. Once he did, he continued, […tomorrow, I'll treat you to a little bit of my blood, okay?]

Now the other cherry red eye opened wide like the other, looking at him with surprise, her little head rising up a little from her crossed arms, "Re-really?"

[Mm hm,] He nodded. [You deserve it, really.] He raised one hand beside him. He threw a few coals in the furnace and he let the heat come to being in his hand; creating a little fire in his palm. [Because of the Spell Card Battle you suggested we play, I finally knew how to do this.]

She shyly looked away, "It…it was just a game. Anybody could have powers like that."

[Well, yeah, but don't forget that I'm an outsider.] He told pointedly, "To us, having powers like this is a dream come true. Folks like me would kill to be able to do this."

"But why kill?" Her expression was more questioning than concerned. "Anybody could do it if they just read some of Patchy's books."

Ignoring her inhumane facial expression (with effort), he said, "That's just an expression, as if we'll do anything to get this."

"Oh."

He smiled, [Now, as I were saying: I should thank you properly. Because of you, I finally got my powers, I finally get to play danmaku for real, and you gave me the bestest play fight of my life.] It was dramatic, life-risking, grand, fun, tough, violent, wild, exciting, stiff, tense, and free merged together at once. A normal play fight could not compare, a hate fight couldn't do so either, even a bitch fight can't. He loved it. [Thank you very much, Flandre.] He gave her head a playful ruffle, splaying out her hair.

She giggled at the gesture, "Stop~!" She reached up to grab his wrist and stopped his hand entirely. Her cold grip and vampiric strength is just enough to make him think twice of being in touching contact with a vampire.

But I don't give a fuck right now.

Quickly removing his rosary and placing it inside his pockets, zippering it for good measure, he said, [C'mere, kid.] He grunted as he rose his upper body up, the aches spiking him across the back. As Flandre rose up as well, large pale hands slipped underneath her arms, lifted her up to sit on Eman's lap, and she was given a warm bear hug.

"Hihihihi…." She gave a muffled giggle, her face mashed into his collar bone. "So warm…"

[So cold…] He playfully said back, his bare upper body giving him the full sensation of her cold body, despite her clothing.

"Aw, ya both makin' out already?" A gruff female voice made them part, they turned to the other blonde in the room, giving the two an interested stare, "An' people call me 'forward'-ze"

Eman quickly smirked. Cupping his mouth, he came close to Flandre's pointy ear and whispered, [Give her a hug. Quick! Go!]

Flandre's eyes lit up at the command and she quickly gave him a nod before flying off towards the equally haggard and roughed-up witch. "Marisa-nee~" She hollered, arms spread out.

"Whoa!"

*GLOMP!*

Eman looked at the impact with impressed eyes, [Wow…] She even sent her to the fuckin' floor. And the big ass hat came off, what are the odds!?

While the two go freaky, he rose up to his feet with a grunt, the aches in his lower body now deciding to make themselves known. The blood may have went back to his legs, but the aches did too. The lack of blood must've blocked the nerve receptors.

Managing to stand up with just a limping right leg in the way, he walked over to the blonde cuddle bunnies still having a glomping session. He wasn't sure if it's kind of one-sided; Marisa was confused between reciprocating or being terrified at the rather affectionate little bloodsucker at complete touching distance.

[C'mon, you two, break it up. It's time for lights out.] He reached down to do it himself, [Come on, you two could just share a room and—]

*grab*

[Yik—] His reaching hand was quickly pulled down by a tiny but cold grip and he was mashed straight into the bundle.

"Yay! One more!"

"Agh! Eman! Heavy! Yer big ass's heavy!"

He said nothing, appreciating the fact that his win along with Marisa brought out no sore loser out of Flandre. It just made her more loving towards the two of them.

Having the advantage of the biggest build and the longest arms amongst the two, he enclosed the tiny blondes all together inside his pale arms and squeezed them to his bare chest.

I feel like a daddy in this situation.

~~~~~ « ҉ » ~~~~~

After huggle bundle parted, they were now back to their feet, walking back towards the ground floor entrance. They left the library as it is, completely destroyed beyond recognition. Eman figured that they're going to have a lot of explaining to do. Though, he suspected that Marisa would try to bolt before Patchouli could get ahold of her so he should prepare to tackle her before she could get the chance. He won't be facing that lecture alone.

"Alright, what next're we gonna do?"

[Sleep. Straight away.] His voice was full of resolution, finality, and firm resolve. He is going to make this the last time he's going to try and sleep. No more interruptions, no more interference, no more nothing. He'll even barricade the door if he has to. [I need a full me-time in an isolated environment.]

"Oh~" Marisa leered at him mischievously, "You itchin' to get it on with Johnson again, dude?"

He took a moment to wonder just how the hell did Marisa knew that term and switched it to the Japanese language so perfectly before his head instantaneously lit up in red hot flames, smoking with ashes, and he swung a punch towards the infuriating witch. She simply moved her head out of the way, keeping ahold of her hat to make sure it doesn't fall off, [Could you not!? I never even did it for once in my life! I mean, I tried to once but I didn't feel anything!]

"Um," A soft voice reminded the two that there was a minor nearby, even if this minor was a slightly unstable 500+ year old vampire who could kill anybody if she wanted to. "What's going on? Why're you two fighting? Who is Johnson? What is Eman-san talking about?"

The fires on Eman's head quickly got put out, and a worried face was shared amongst the two humans. They dragged in 'ah's and 'uh's before they simply continued walking.

"It's a grownup thing, Flan. It ain't fit for yer ears yet-ze." Marisa hastily answered.

[She's right, Flandre. Best you leave it be, alright?] Eman's voice was steady and calm, but his face expressed all the horror of what he and Marisa nearly started.

Innocent minds should be preserved, and Flan's too cute for these things.

"Mmm…!" Flandre puffed her cheeks. "You two are just like Onee-sama…"

[Hey, whatever your sis didn't tell you, this one is clearly for your own good. It's for the very best you know nothing about this.]

"Yep. For yer own good. Please, Flan, just let it go. Yer sis will maim me and Eman if we ever corrupted you-ze."

Marisa's words drew a worried stare from Eman.

Flandre pouted even more but she nodded anyway, "Okay…"

"Good girl." She patted the kid's head before she faced forward.

Then Flandre's nose began to flare, catching a rather intoxicating scent.

The two were completely unaware that she had just walked off to the side, her wings creating not the smallest jingle.

"Hey, Eman." Marisa poked his shoulder.

[What?] He snapped, his irritation already spiked just by talking to her.

She elbowed his hip with a very flirtatious grin, "Do you have a small package—]

*KICK!*

A black and white human-sized bullet was quickly sent flying to the side, bouncing over toppled bookshelves before landing on a heap of books, burying herself under it. She poked her head out of the pile with an amazed smile, a large black and white book replacing her giant black and white witch hat. "Dude! That was amazing! I mean, I expected you to hit me but I didn't expect you to hit me that fast! I didn't even see it coming-ze!"

He simply groaned/growled, lowering his extended foot and flipping her off with his hand in front of his chest to make sure Flandre doesn't see it. His pace quickened and his annoyance nearly at a breaking point, he stomped onwards to the stairs that is just a couple hundred meters away, eager to just enter a random bedroom and lock the door. Though, with the witch already floating by his side, reclined on her broom like a hover bed, it's guaranteed that he's going to bear with a headache all the way.

~~~~~ « ҉ » ~~~~~

Appetizing.

Scrumptious.

Flavorsome.

Enchanting.

Savoring.

Succulent.

Attracting.

And unspeakably delicious.

Leering down on the intoxicating puddle, leering at it for its texture. Its smell was extremely overwhelming, her eyes tightened to slits, her fangs had exposed themselves in a sneer subconsciously, and her vampiric urges demanded a taste.

I want a taste.

With a small finger, she wiped her digit across the puddle before bringing it up to her eyes, judging it like a fine wine before she popped it to her lips.

Her wings began to glow, her eyes burned alit, her fingernails extended and she fell. The vampire in her had broken free, and has now taken ahold of her every being. In a mad frenzy, she drew out her pointed tongue and lapped up the entire mess, every lick increasing the loss of her rationality, her wings glowing brighter and brighter.

The child that Eman knew as Flandre the Beautiful Vampire was no more.

She tasted the floor. There was no more. She looked left and right, seeking for more, more to fill her needs, to fill her wants, to satiate her until she is satisfied.

More. More!

She heard two heartbeats, one calm and pacing, the other erratic and energetic. One smelt with the odors of flora and fungi, the other…scrumptious.

In a snap that would have broken a human neck, she looked at the second floor entrance of the library. There was a human girl, short in height and wearing a black-white dress, an oversized witch hat placed on her head. There was a human boy with her, tall and dark clothed, and the intoxicating smell fumed out of him like smoke.

Prey.

~~~~~ « ҉ » ~~~~~

"You take the couch. I'll have the bed."

[No, fuck off. You take another room. I need to sleep alone.]

"What? Can't enjoy the comp'ny of a babe sharing the same room as you?"

[Marisa, I would gladly share my bed with a friend but in the condition I'm in: I don't think so. Plus, I snore.]

"Ya don't say? I snore just as much-ze! How loud're ya?"

[Loud enough to disturb people any girl who isn't used to it? Seriously, Marisa, get your own room. I need to be alone….we're all tired. It's a wonder we're still walking.]

"Sigh…alright, but yer tellin' me why ya wanna go alone."

[Fair. I'm fine with sleeping besides a friend, but when I'm tired like this I must be able to sleep with the safety of knowing that nobody is nearby. It's almost like PTSD, to me it's kinda like sleepin' next to somebody with a knife while you have no way of waking up in time before he stabs ya because the day wore you out so much you might end up sleeping through a typhoon.]

"Aw…c'mon, ya can trust me, y'know I won't stab ya."

[I know. It's just a psychological thing, can't help it when I'm tired. I'd be fine if I wasn't. Maybe next time we'll share a bed. Just be careful though, I might end up cuddling you. Accidental spooning could happen.]

"Whoa….I'm gonna be sorry to every guy you did that to."

[Oh, don't worry. Happens only to girls, don't know why. My lady friends back in my days trusted me a lot that they'll let me share the same room as them if I ever wanted to get away from my dude friends' noisy hour of talking and yelling.]

"Wwwwhoaaaaa! I knew ya were a stud-ze!"

[….Not really.]

"Wh-what?"

[The girls were kinda fond of me because I'm the only boy who wouldn't touch them. 'Touch them' as in I would like to have a relationship or want to have sex with them just for shits and giggles.]

"…that's how relationships are outside?"

[Faithlessness is….common. There are those who would rather have sex and be done with each other afterwards, sometimes they won't even bother to know each other's names. Most of my classmates were complete horndogs, more animal than person.]

"….shit…"

[The girls find my restraint…cute. They wanted to get it on with me, much more than the other boys because I was good to them, polite to them, respects them, and even treats them like a person instead of a prize. When they found out I was a virgin…they got aggressive.]

"…."

[They got too far…..a lot of screaming happened. Few respected my wishes to remain pure until my marriage….some wanted to risk it.]

"…..risk what?"

[Hehe…Eman Letitia is a man with a reputation for turning into a monster when pushed too far. He'll start screaming in another language, he'll flail his arms around, hitting shit, and he's not afraid to hit women, especially those he once respected.]

"….."

[I'm still pure…..I protected it…we never spoke again. Word got out, women were now completely afraid of me, and the boys started respecting my abstinence when they first called me a wimp for it before. They kinda….pitied me, thinking I nearly got raped.]

"…dude…"

[They changed…..they now took their relationships seriously, no more one-night stands, and they are even saying no to any girl who's asking for it. They even got protective of me, like I was their little brother, even though we're the same age.]

She grabbed his hand and his eyes turned to her. His eyes weren't hurt, they weren't tearing up, they weren't staring at a mile away as if remembering trauma, his eyes looked at the memory as if it was a past scuffle.

He was strong. A very strong boy, not letting ugly memories pull him down and instead turned it into an important factor of his life that made him into what he is today.

No wonder he was fond of telling moments of himself getting hurt in such a funny fashion. He was proud of them. Good thing he didn't do the same to such a horrible one like this, she would never hear the end of it.

She squeezed his hand firmly, giving it a protective vibe and letting it stay. She looked straight to his hazel eyes. "Even if I sleep in the same room as you or even lied in the same bed as you, even if I were half-naked, or not wearing anything at all, I'll never do the same thing to you…'kay?"

His neutral expression didn't change, he simply nodded as if what she said was something he already knew. His large hand squeezed her tiny own in return, interlocking fingers, [I know.] He began to walk, his pace matching hers. Then he finished in another language, "I trust you, Marisa."

She smiled warmly to him, one of her rare ones. Reimu constantly gets a lot, especially when she's being altruistic to other people, human or not, even if Marisa mocks her about it.

Marisa chuckled inwardly. She's sure Eman'll get along with other girls, and maybe a lot of Youkai women if they don't eat him first. She'd love to see them get so frustrated once they get into heat and the look on their faces once he immediately says 'no' will be so—

Her neck prickled.

Her danger senses immediately went haywire.

The sound of something rushing towards her—no, towards Eman echoed behind her.

It was coming fast.

She had no time to turn around and find out what it is.

She has to get him out of the way.

Quickly!

"Look out—"

She was struck instead, tumbling several meters away, pain erupting at her sides, her magical barriers failing to hold up. She'll feel this once she wakes up.

At least he didn't get hit before whatever that was could hit him. She'll have to trust him to treat her if he knows any first-aid. She'll just have to black out for a whi—

Wait, was her side bleeding?

Why's her vision blacking out?

Why's it warm on her left side?

What's all that red stuff on the floors underneath her?

Why's….why's…..

~~~~~ « ҉ » ~~~~~

Eman stared at wide-eyed shock, sat on his backside unmoving, mouth gaping completely in disbelief at the site in front of him.

He watched.

He watched it happen.

First half of a second, she had pushed him to the ground, the other a red-white blur slammed into her.

Something else red spurted out, it was coming out of Marisa's left side once that blur struck her in his place.

She had tumbled some distances away on the side after the impact but Eman didn't look.

What's in front of him was even more unbelievable.

Bony hands bearing claws, once pale but was now coated with crimson liquid, a liquid that once sustained a living being, once coursing through veins to keep it alive, Marisa's veins.

A wild, manic face of a wild predator. He found himself remembering rabid dogs filled with rabies when he studied the assailant's countenance. Eyes so wide that they threaten to pop out the unhinged red orbs that filled the sockets; lips stretched so wide that he was surprised that they didn't bleed once they reached the end of the jaw; so much teeth was showing, more than he remembered before, and they all were still the same: pointed, sharp, and pearly white.

This couldn't be Flandre.

This monster wore the same clothes as her. Even had the same damages on her clothing but this couldn't be her.

She never had this face on her before.

Even if she had lost control in that hallway, her face was never this horrifying.

This isn't Flandre.

That sweet little vampire cannot be this beast. She was squeezing Marisa before, he was embracing her before, she was cuddling together with him and the witch—this cannot be her. She was unstable but this couldn't be her.

It can't be.

This can't be you.

She could not have harmed Marisa.

You can't be.

That Proves The Point, Doesn't It?

Flandre could not have killed her.

There Are No More Words Needed To Be Said Here.

She couldn't have killed her.

Flandre Is Dangerous, It Was A Mistake For You To Come Here.

She couldn't have killed Marisa.

It Was A Mistake For You To Trust Her. It Was An Even Bigger Mistake For You To Stay Here Either.

Flandre could not have killed Marisa.

She Isn't Human, And You Know That. She's A Monster, A Demon, A Devil, You Can't Trust Anybody Like Her.

Marisa's….dead.

Look At What She Did To Your Friend, You Think Somebody Trustworthy Would Do That? No, All Of Them Are Liars.

She was not killed by Flandre.

She was killed by this monster who was not Flandre.

And What Can You Do About It?

Killed…by this….monster.

Nothing, You Can't Do Anything. You're Just A Human, And A Human Cannot Kill A Monster.

Flandre…..

Only A Monster Can Kill Another Monster, Not Even Your Friend Or That Priestess, They're Just Humans. They'll Just Die, Soon Other One Will Soon Follow, But You'll Be The Second, Without Mercy, Without Thought, Without Prejudice. All Because You're Weak.

Marisa…..

Why Don't I Help You In This, Hmm? Just Like When You Fought The Servant, Just Like When You Were Frightened, Why Don't You Let Me Help You Again?

She….

I Can Give You Strength. I Can Give You Swiftness. I Can Give You Power. I Can Destroy Your Human Limits. I Can Make You Bypass Them. I Can Mold You Into A Monster! Stronger Than Anything You Ever Faced Before! Stronger Than You Could ever Imagine! You Could Even Win Against Remilia!

…..Died.

All You Have To Do…Is Submit To Me.

….….

…..….….….

….….….….….….….….it could not have been anyone else…..

Yeeeesss…

….no one else could've worn those clothes…

Yeeeeeessssss…

….there's nobody else I knew would do this….

Yeeeeeessssss…Yessssssss…..

Flandre…..

You were unhinged since the night I met you.

You were never sane.

You were a danger since the start.

I should never have trusted you.

I should have killed you when I had the chance!

You should have died!

Kill you…..!

KiLl YoU…..!

hUrT yOu…..!

MuRdEr YoU…!

hArM yOu!

SeNd YoU tO hElL!

Yes, Submit. Submit To Me, And I Will Give You Retribution. It Will Be So Pleasuring You'll Drown In It Forever.

YoU.

Turn To Me And I Will Give You Everything You Ever Wanted. First Is Revenge, The Rest Will Be Up To You. Whatever You'll Ask, It Shall Be Given To You.

wIlL.

Submit To Me And I Will Make You A God Among Men And Youkai!

PAY!

DROWN, MY BOY, DROWN!‼

~~~~~ « ҉ » ~~~~~

Once there were none, now there was hell and brimstone.

The Great Library burned to hell.

~~~~~ « ҉ » ~~~~~

"Was this wise?"

Yukari turned a bored look towards Queen, who was gripping her left hand very tightly and her brow creasing worriedly. She was clearly shaken by what just happened. For transcendent beings like her, they would not have cared, being above life and death, but Yukari stunted her mental growth by trapping her in that realm. Her behavior can be excused for that reason. "Whatever do you mean?"

"This." She gestured to the gap in front of Yukari with a dainty hand, showing nothing but a completely blazing background. If they didn't know any better, they would've been taking a peek at the realm of Hell. "Is the death of that poor child any worth it? Should you throw away your Champion and defender of your realm's life away in such apathy?"

The sage frowned, as if she was accused of something she hadn't done by her child. "Now where did that come from? Are you saying I'm killing her for no reason?"

She only received a critical stare from the queen. Anybody else would've quivered in shame and guilt under her stare, but not Yukari. Not the one person who had her life under her thumb but she could forgive the rather high-strung lioness. Her mentality is very young for her own kind.

"I'm not 'killing' her, as you think I'm doing." She told boredly, "I'm too fond of her that it wouldn't be right for her to simply pass away that suddenly. She's no use to me dead, and Reimu will never be the same otherwise. That will be bad for Gensokyo."

A relieved look crossed Queen's face but it quickly reverted back into worry, facing the blazing interface of the gap. "Is the poor girl okay?"

A smirk crept its way to Yukari's lips, the same kind that she always wore whenever something goes her way. "There are many unsung heroes in that Castle of Blood."

Waving her equally dainty hand across the gap, the flames cleared and the place where Marisa's bleeding form was: it was only a black smudge of dried blood now. There was a dried blood trail that lead off-screen, indicating that the witch was dragged off before the gates of hell were opened and dragged her in.

That girl breaks the impossible. She'll live. There's a reason why I call her the Paragon of Humans.

"What of the boy?" Queen asked next.

Yukari closed her eyes, sighing cryptically; not even the lioness was sure what this meant. Was she calming down to think or was she irritated for being asked? The smirk on her face, however, brought clues. There were fewer than few clues but even by that much can Queen figure something out of it.

"Let's leave that up to faith." Yukari's aware that her answer does not help and is completely irrelevant to the question or the situation but Queen saw the double meaning instantly. She nodded and turned to spectate the gap once again along with King, who has been ignoring the exchange the entire time, fully knowing what's about to happen in the next several hours inside the Scarlet Devil Mansion.

Dispatcher was somewhere else, (reluctantly) attending a spell card training with a hyperactive Chen and a calm Ran outside.

Maybe this Lioness isn't so immature. Yukari smiled as she mused. For somebody so rusty, her intelligence is still above human and average Youkai standards. Still not enough to match me though.

Turning to the gap once again, she waved her hand across once again and the presentation was a spectacle under the theme of 'Hell hath no fury'. The man that was once called Eman is no longer there. While through the eyes of a human and other average beings, especially standard Youkai, they will see an infuriated human who is throwing himself towards the vampire in wild abandon, entire body blazing like a living forest fire. Through the lenses of the gap, however, the tampered boundary of visible and invisible, a horrifying monster took the human boy's place. An unimaginable evil, a being that could only come to be inside the flesh of poor souls.

In the biblical point of view, Christians are vessels of the Holy Spirit, a figurative Temple for the Spirit to reside in. The Christian must value the Temple for the Holy Spirit cannot reside in a forsaken place, forsaken by sin.

Anger is a sin.

Sin pulls the righteous away from God.

Demons feed on sin.

A heart full of hatred will cradle malicious spirits and unforgiving demons.

The biblical demons are malevolent without question.

Satan is ruler among all of them.

Sathanas was Wrath among the Seven Sins.

And without the Holy Spirit to shield the Christian, even the most pious men will be enthralled by the Devil or his subjects.

Eman's body didn't bear the Holy Spirit, his Temple had no such resident. And without the rightful owner of the House watching over it, thieves and squatters will break and steal.

And the Youkai sage couldn't be anymore right: Satan, out of all the Unclean Spirits of Hell, had the balls to personally try and take it.

Anger is blind, it doesn't think of good or evil, right or wrong. It merely seeks destruction, either to the self or the other. It seemed the King of Hell used Eman's rage as a medium for his sacking to be successful. And he looks more than willing to feed the human's desire for revenge.

Sathanas seemed to have other plans besides that, he always does. His Agenda mattered more than anybody else, he will eventually abandon Eman to the void. He only needs a host, a physical body that is potentially fitting enough to walk the earth and survive the elements of Gensokyo's brutality.

Eman thought his religion would make him a good person, to change him for the better. Oh, it did, but it also made his seven sins even more fertile, capable of becoming great and ensuring that it will grow into a honeypot for all the other Unclean Spirits. He's not perfect, he is as limited as any other human. His body, however, was just perfect, and Sathanas had quickly sown his seeds at the open opportunity.

The first batch of Unclean Spirits has breached inside him now.

His ingenuity, wit, strength, personality, emotion, control, flaws, weaknesses—his simple existence as a Human had the potential to Destroy Gensokyo. The man in question could not have done it, but with the right supervision anything could be done. The disasters wouldn't be instantaneous but the possible chain reactions of instances are horrifying enough to be undesired by all. Once Eman succumbs to darkness, it would signify the coming calamity, the worst kind Gensokyo will ever experience, worst than Gensokyo's Calamity of Darkness decades ago.

Yukari basically brought one of Gensokyo's worst enemies to life.

It took a while to lure him out, only just at the moment when Eman finally abandoned all his morals, his conscience, and rationality for the sake of vengeance. Remained hidden when he sacked the boy's body and expelled the first captors, nearly successful at the first attempt of full-body possession but the host's fears won out, forcefully shut back in at the second attempt in the hands of a human witch, immediately silenced at the third by a cut to the wrist, now fully successful at the fourth and final attempt where he died.

Yukari's smile grew completely distorted, the edges of her mouth extending to impossible lengths as it reached past the cheeks until the ears, literally expressing the idiom of grinning ear to ear. Her eyes were wide in excitement and glee and celebration, her yellow orbs burned with a powerful passion as she watched the red entity through her gaps. She was at the edge of her seat, hands clenched to fists so tight she pierced her own palms with her delicate fingernails.

The Devil King and his legion of demons against the Sister of the Scarlet Devil, what an ironic face off. If nothing has been done, it'd be the Fallen Angel against all of Gensokyo, all while wearing the skin of a despairing Human.

"Let's see how long you last, Morning and Evening Star."