Hello loyal readers, welcome.

I still do not own the Dark Souls series, or the dxd series. If you havent heard of them then go check...them...

Oh...

'These pyromancy teachings are dark, and delves into the depths of the soul, where a dark nature resides. These spells are forbidden anywhere you go in Lordran, and only one terribly afflicted, or burdened by deep sorrow could begin to understand them...'

'It would be perfect for you, wouldn't it?' A witch determined if her student could learn the following teachings, but it seems that there was no need for clarification.

'You're a wicked one, aren't you?' The woman snickered at the enjoyment of spreading her teachings. Her student may be able to make incredible use of it.

'The pillars collapse. In shame.'

The dark pyromancer cast a debilitating gaze at the thing that had been assailed by darkness. The noble was just a thing to his mercy now, he might as well be a peasant, and he was getting weaker by the moment. The fire that was meant to form his wings were tainted into a black flame, and steadily retreated into the squire's off-hand.

If things continued like this, then the devil could die. Realizing this fact, he roared away a vestige of life, in turn brightening the black wisps into a dull grey, for nothing can alleviate a fire born from the abyss. So within a moment, it was as if nothing had happened, like his attempt had been deleted from the annals of existence.

The wolves remained silent, and so was the dark fire. It was the only reason his hunched self could hear the squire twist the grass with each step. But his head looked away, it was propped against an arm that lay on the grass for rest, or whatever comfort it'd bring in the situation. While he diverted his eyes, he could not stop his ears from receiving the tell-tale signs of a devil's weakness.

Indeed, a lightning spear was being held in the depraved pyromancer's right hand, where a sword usually was. Riser saw the field around him flash a familiar bright yellow, but weakened and useless, there was nothing that he could do against the boy. A crunch on gravel brought the devil's head up, away from his arm, yet he could do nothing past this notion. With a final step on twisted grass, the tip of a boot came into the corner of his view.

With brutal savageness, it was lifted quickly, into the devil's shoulder, rolling him sideways, and onto his back. Now Riser could see what would be able to kill him. Yellow arcs forced him into a squint, already tired from the sapping of his power, all his limbs could do was become victims of justice and judgement. Of which was still in the happenings, thieving his life before his eyes. Even if he would open his eyes, all the devil could see would be the stretches of lightning from the spear, but he felt the exhaustion seep into him from places the corrupted fire stole from.

The from the ground, Riser felt the gross incandescence deter enough for him to open his squished eyes, stealing only a glance of a single arm outstretched above him. He lacked even the strength to voice his pain the next second, instead only shaking slightly. In fear, or from the effects of lightning, whatever you believe, he was shaking.

The tip of the spear phased through his body, it now lacked the hand that would support it, but a strange thing happened with this event. in the middle of the spear, the charm that created the miracle was wrapped in the stretches of Lordran faith, and floated within the confines of the spear. Left to it's own devices, the spear's reaches of stray arcs furthered along his body, nullifying a transport spell.

Well, what would be the point if an indicted sinner escaped from their judgement for their crimes against justice?

So, with intent to hand the devil his due's, Tristan fell to a knee, placed the sword-hand on the dirt beside the sinner's head, and widened the grasp on his dark flame. All with the expression of a murderer. By now, the surge of faith had expanded from the devil's chest to the wrong-doer's face, completely blinding him for the time it remained, and slightly searing the devil.

For true retribution would come in a different form. Faith expressed as lightning was painful to devils, yes, that is true. But to a devil of the house of the hunted Phenex clan, then another form of torture could be delivered.

A slow grasp to the head, and the dark flame in Tristan's hand dissipated into a surge that choked the devil and robbed him of his existence. Without the strength to shout in pain, the devil's blue iris faded from existence, forming complete whiteness, a whiteness that would be entombed in the dark flame.

Life was slowly pillaged from the defeated devil, and in it's place, where the darkest of visions. The kind of visions that would make even the proudest heart sink in eternal misery.

'Kingdoms in tatters, your peace will succumb. To flame.'

A second of nothing passed, during which, the lightning still streamed its surges, but the dark flame had ceased it's judgement.

CASTING TIME: TWO SECONDS

There it is, the darkness that disappeared had returned, with blue masses of the devil's soul accompanying each strand of smoky flame. With a final cascading of lightning, the suppression had ended, and the devil was transported away, as close to death as the dark pyromancer could bring him to.

The floating spear lost it's power, and the catalyst fell into a waiting hand, regaining a smidgen of faith. The vestiges of smoke flew past the dark flame, reaching up to the pyromancer's arm, meeting the fading branches of lightning that remained from the spear. Now there was only one thing left to do.

He lowered to his knees, and fell backwards, resting with an arm over a leg, a gesture that many would see at a bonfire. The sword and holder was removed, and lay silently on the grass beside a free hand, the head rests against the the arm on the leg, recovering from the use of black flames. A strange thing came across his thoughts, it had originated when he took a look at his arm.

The appendage felt static, glowing a subdued, dying yellow before fading into the brown that made the squire's skin. Within a moment, he was the destination of a few furred animals.

True to my word, a member of his old guard retreated into his back, leaping up to place her padded front legs onto his black hair and shoulders, calling right into his ears as if to say 'well done'. Another came from the silver ring, slowly. From the eyes, Tristan could discern that it was the elder Gold-eyes. Stopping just a short distance from him, the elder grey wolf lowered his head in reverence. The weight and paws on his back disappeared, and the squire looked around the ring.

The ones he had fought with had done the same thing, some at closer ranges than the rest, but all of them had lowered their fuzzy little heads to the grass, snouts towards him, eyes closed as if worshiping something greater than them.

Then, fading lights formed a bright circle that encompassed them all, with the symbol of a sword stretching through it. As a final goodbye, the wolf that formed his guard breached her position of prayer and leaped to wet his cheeks with her drenched tongue, and getting a ruffle of fur before becoming energy and was transported away with the rest of the family.

Realizing that there was no more reason to exist in this area, the elementary sword was retrieved, and then he moved towards the place where he knew the exit towards the town would be. It was like he didn't just participate in what could be the murder of the heir of nobility. Course there was no patience for useless things, so he paid the devils he passed no place in his thoughts.

"Quite the stranger, isn't he?" King Rias voiced her peerage's thoughts, to which everyone agreed with their own minds. Traitor Issei was still incapacitated by the sickness, and was forced to rest in bed by the people within his mansion.

The referee of the match had long abandoned his post, having already known what the outcome of the match would be. Leaving the devil from the hunted Phenex clan to slowly amble towards the devils of Gremory.

Fighting the urge to cry at her brother's supposed death, the devil raised a hand to the king in question. But was told that there would be another time when they could converse properly, now did not seem like a place to speak about what happened. The question remained, did the Lordran representative really save the devil? Or did he just hasten his death?

"Ami? You are looking very tired, is everything alright?" The brunette foreigner worriedly asked her only friend in the area. Her visible brown eye showed the emotion, while the other was hidden behind a large stretch of dark brown hair that ended covered an entire half of her face.

"...I...I am alright, do not worry." The voice was the same low pitch he showed to every person as of late.

"Vraiment? Your eyes look even more tired than usual..." In the girl's native language, the word vraiment is equal to our 'really'. The boy was quick to put her worries to rest, he attempted to, anyway "...As I said, there is no reason to worry."

Her father appeared in that same doorway, recently decorated with cloth flaps with the same pattern on each strand. There on the counter, a foam container awaited it's doom.

"Thank you, my boy!" The father soon noticed the slight tension between his daughter and the regular. He commented on the situation. "Getting to know my daughter, ah? HA, you ARE of that age already. Bahaha!" The aged owner shuffled the knuckles of his closed hands on his sides, and shook with laughter. There was barely anyone around, as it was dusk, and they had already closed. There was however always an exception for the young man.

The aged owner believes that it would be a good thing for his daughter to socialize with others, to turn her meekness into braveness. But as far as the old man knew, Tristan was her only friend in this town. The girl had quite the road between her and her destination.

One step at a time, her road ahead would be walked. Tristan was sort of like a stepping stone for her, a start.

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Also, let me guess, at the day that this was updated, the advertisement at the bottom is a Rise of Iron advertisement with Saladin at the front.

If it's not, then is it an advert for the new World of Warcraft expansion?

BYEBYE