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Ilfrit steadied himself, flames flickering unevenly around his form as he looked at Bordeaux with clear irritation.
"To think a demon of your caliber was here," he said. "How annoying. And those weapons you keep conjuring, those are not normal either, what are they."
Bordeaux simply smiled.
"They're conjured through my Unique Skill, Prototype," he said calmly. "It allows me to rebuild anything I can remember."
Ilfrit frowned. "What a ridiculous power. But that doesn't explain those weapons. Anything you can remember? Where would you have even seen things like that before?"
"That's a very long story," Bordeaux replied lightly. "And unfortunately, I don't have the time."
Ilfrit pushed himself upright despite his injuries. "Well It doesn't matter," he said. "Even if you are stronger than me, Spirits cannot die. Kill me here, and I will simply be reborn."
Bordeaux stared at him for a moment.
Then he sighed, disappointment clear in his voice. "Ilfrit… are you perhaps slow?"
Ilfrit's brows furrowed. "What are you talking about?"
Bordeaux raised a hand and pointed at him. "Are you really not going to question why you're bleeding?"
Ilfrit froze.
He looked down.
Blood, real blood was dripping from his body.
His eyes widened as the realization struck him. As a Superior Spirit, he wasn't supposed to bleed.
"…What did you do," Ilfrit demanded.
Bordeaux began walking toward him, his steps slow and deliberate. "You see, Ilfrit," he said, "aside from Prototype, I possess another skill."
Ilfrit swallowed. "Another… skill?"
"Its called Soul Scholar," Bordeaux answered, lifting a finger. "It allows me to interact with—"
He paused.
A sinister smile spread across his face.
"—and damage the soul."
Ilfrit felt a chill run down his spine.
"All of my attacks so far," Bordeaux continued, "weren't aimed at your body. They were aimed at your soul."
The unease twisted into panic.
Ilfrit reacted instinctively, sending a wave of fire toward Bordeaux.
Bordeaux didn't even move his hands.
He blew upward.
The fire was redirected, scattered harmlessly into the air.
"Pointless," Bordeaux said. "Your soul is already in tatters, Ilfrit. Your flames can't do anything to me now."
Ilfrit staggered backward. "Get away from me."
In the next instant, Bordeaux vanished.
Ilfrit barely registered the movement before Bordeaux reappeared in front of him, grabbed his face, and smashed him into the ground. The impact echoed through the forest as Bordeaux pinned him down, his smile twisted and vicious.
"Now," Bordeaux said softly, "back to what I commanded you to do when we first met. Do you remember It?"
"I will not obey a mere demon," Ilfrit snarled. "Who do you think you—"
Bordeaux touched him.
Not his body.
His soul.
Ilfrit's eyes went wide as an indescribable sensation tore through him.
"My," Bordeaux said casually, "you have quite a powerful soul. Not on my level… but still impressive."
"What are you doing?" Ilfrit cried. "Let go!"
Bordeaux's smile deepened. "Actually, since I'm already here… I might as well help myself to your abilities. Don't you think?"
He pressed further.
Ilfrit felt something being ripped from him, his abilities, engraved into his very soul, copied and transplanted onto Bordeaux's own soul.
Bordeaux released him and straightened.
He opened his free hand.
Intense fire erupted from his palm.
He chuckled.
"Look, Ilfrit," Bordeaux said. "I can shoot fire now too."
Ilfrit was left wide-eyed.
Impossible, he thought.
He copied my intrinsic abilities. How is that even possible? And why… why does his flames feel more intense than mine?
Bordeaux watched his expression change, fire flickering lazily in his palm.
"Do you see now, Ilfrit," he said calmly. "With my ability to interact with the soul, I'm practically a god. Wouldn't you agree?"
He stepped closer.
As he did, an invisible pressure crushed down on Ilfrit's very existence. It wasn't physical, it was far worse. It felt as though his soul itself was being squeezed, compressed, on the verge of shattering.
"And as a god," Bordeaux continued evenly, "I can completely wipe you from existence. Don't you think?"
Ilfrit screamed.
The pain was overwhelming, far beyond anything he had ever experienced.
"Okay, okay!" he shouted. "I'll listen! I'll listen! I'll try to coexist with Shizue Izawa!"
Bordeaux raised an eyebrow. "Try?"
The pressure increased.
"I don't like the word try," Bordeaux said coolly. "I prefer I'll do it."
Ilfrit nodded frantically, desperation etched across his face. "Yes! I'll do it! I'll do it!"
Bordeaux tilted his head. "It's I'll do it, Bordeaux-sama."
"O–Of course!" Ilfrit said quickly. "I'll do it, Bordeaux-sama!"
Ilfrit had feared almost nothing in his long existence.
But now, faced with the reality that he could be erased completely with no rebirth and no return. He broke. He accepted it and he submitted.
Bordeaux's voice turned cold.
"Remember this," he said. "Shizue is your master. You are her servant. You will give her every drop of your power to her even if that leaves you with nothing. Are we clear?"
Ilfrit nodded again and again. "Yes. Yes, I understand."
Bordeaux released him.
He straightened, his smile returning as if nothing had happened. "See? That wasn't so hard, was it?"
Ilfrit stared at him as if looking at a monster far worse than any demon he had ever known.
He has to stay on good terms with this demon, Ilfrit thought desperately. If I anger him… I'll cease to exist.
In that moment, he resolved himself. He would help Shizue in every way possible. Anything just to avoid Bordeaux's wrath.
"I'm done with you now," Bordeaux said casually. "Give Shizue back her body."
Relief flooded Ilfrit so strongly it felt like a second life.
"Right away, Bordeaux-sama," he said quickly.
He wanted to leave, no, to escape that presence as soon as possible.
The flames surrounding his body began to collapse inward, spiraling tightly until they vanished completely. In their place, an unconscious Japanese girl appeared, falling gently to the ground.
Moments later, Shizue's eyes fluttered open.
She blinked a few times, disoriented.
"…I'm back," she murmured.
"Welcome back," a voice replied.
Shizue turned her head, searching, until her eyes found him.
"Bordeaux-san," she said softly.
He smiled. "You won't understand until a few minutes from now," he said lightly, "but you can thank me with a kiss once I get a physical body."
Shizue's face burned crimson. "H–Huh!? What are you talking about?!"
Bordeaux chuckled. "Oh, and one more thing. I'd like to ask you for a favor."
She stiffened.
"If a massive war ever breaks out anywhere in this world," he said, "please summon me."
He waved once.
"Thank you. Bye."
And just like that, Bordeaux vanished from her sight.
"Wait!" Shizue shouted. "You can't just say something like that and then leave!"
There was no response.
She clenched her fists and glared at the empty space where he had been standing, frustration written clearly across her face.