-the monk's temple, mountain peak-
A ruined sight comes into view as dozens of houses and praying shrines lay ruined for the dead to see.
The ground is flattened, almost matching the marvel slabs used for construction. However what stood out was the not the flat ground but the monks imbedded into it like decorations.
The monk– or rather their corpses were crushed into the ground like stones on a dirt road. It was a pitiful sight, showing the end of a community that had long isolated itself.
However amidst such destruction, a single person pushed himself out of the rubble. It was Lats, injured and greatly traumatized.
"Head priest? Master Valir? Everyone... Is Anyone There!!"
Unable to continue watching, Lats turned his head in shame. He pushed himself forward, but his weak limbs failed to completely lift any of the heavy logs that were crushing him down.
"Is this, really how it ends?... *smiles with tears* So much for all those dreams...I will be dying in here for sure. " He said sadly as tears poured down his eyes.
Then, just when the light was about to fade from Lats's eyes, a impact happens, throwing him far away like a frisbee. He crashes into a tree soon after, dislocating his shoulder in the process.
Awoken by pain he looks ahead, finding a grotesque looking giant with four limbs with a face similar to the destroyer of his village, retreating back while fending off a black blur that kept circling around it like a mosquito.
Rubble! Rubble!
The ground snaps, turning into giants broadswords of compressed stone. The swords were grabbed by Dante as he spew magic and curses at Asta, his eyes unable to keep up with his fly like dexterity that kept forcing him to retreat.
"TRY ALL YOU WANT!! BUT IT IS ME WHO WILL WIN!! " yells Dante as he finally lands a hit.
... For a second there was silence, the previous intensity has instantly vanished for some reason. The sudden silence however did nothing more than to terrify Dante even more as his pupils shrink.
He had cleaved Asta into two, splitting him down the middle along with his heart. Yet there was this small feeling in his chest, a feeling telling him to keep going with his attacks.
" DIE! DIE! DIE! DIE! DIE! DIE! DDIIEEEEE!!!!"
The giant swords kept swingings, chopping and slashing endlessly until there was nothing left of Asta. In his own eyes, Dante has won the battle and gained a full fledged victory.
However the brief moment of satisfaction faded away when a voice reached his ears from the side.
"You just had to say something about my friends, didn't you?"
Asta was sitting there, sitting right on one of Dante's massive arms. His body was Unscratched and unharmed, showing no sign of any damage, almost as if all the hits Dante just did never happened.
"H-HOW DID YO-"
A sucker punch to face, followed by a roundhouse kick to chin. Asta struck twice before Dante could speak.
Slash!
Blood explodes as a sphere crushed Asta again. however, he appears once more, regenerating from nothing more than left over finger on the ground.
The sight felt unreal to look at, both for Lats and Dante. Even Devils weren't supposed to have such a regeneration when their hearts get destroyed.
Little did Dante know, the being in front of him was not Asta but rather nothing more than a amalgamation. The thousands of lesser Devil souls were all fighting right now, struggling with each other for control and each heart that formed was neither Asta Or his devil side but of one the voices instead.
In simpler words, what Dante was facing was neither a warrior or a fighter but rather the vengeful decaying souls that Asta was also fighting against in his mind.
Meanwhile a also invisible panel also popped up in front of the newly regenerated Asta.
[Trait – Transformed Human have changed]
[Tranformed Human => Half devil]
[Mode function has been removed, A control Level has been added in return]
[Current control rate: 0.2%]
[Trait acquired: Devil's regen(racial trait)]
[Inherent trait awakened: Battle fanatic]
Meanwhile, In the inner world of his soul, Asta launches from the one place to another with a katana in his hand.
He was running on tendrils made of hundreds of hands, his feet not stepping as he leapt from one tendril to another like a phantom walking on water.
Soon he arrives, his hands already in a swinging motion as he cuts through a shield made of black flesh. In his eyes there was no longer any time for thought.
"Death Cannon."
With a swift stab forward, Asta blows a hole in the flesh, revealing the darkened face of his devil version grinning at him for a second before the flesh recovers again.
It was supposed to be his soul which he was fighting in, but right now it was too corrupted for him to even barely control his sanity with each passing second.
"This can't go on.. *huff* This is just like that time I fought with that bastard Dante!"
Asta grits his teeth, erupting Into a dance of slice and stab moves that shred through the darkness encroaching at him from all direction including the floor.
Every hand he cut, every mouth he slashed lifted a bit of the pressure on his body. He was recovering, taking back the control over his body and mind from the corruption.
However there was a dilemma he was forced as tendrils caught up to him, forcing him to focus dodging and finding a opening once more.
He wished he could just burn or freeze it but all his life he had learnt nothing but swordsmanship, muscle training and techniques of energy control that were as useless as they can be in a place without ki, mana Or Anti-magic.
... For a second Asta paused, his smooth butter brain having his once-in-a-while smart thought.
"I really am a Idiot! All this while I have been dodging with ki detect! So why the hell would there be no ki here?! "
A smile formed on Asta's face. He closed his eyes slowly, sensing the bloodlust coming at him from all sides. He could sense it better this way, seeing all the attacks before they happened.
The trajectory of the tendrils began appearing slow, turning them into nothing more than moving platforms for him to use as footholds in the fight.
There was no longer any sound, leaving Asta in a shroud of silence as he backs away while dodging and the cutting through the hands like butter.
A hit from the side? blocked. A impact from beneath? Used as a evasive tactic to escape the reach of tendrils.
Then came a shower of small bullets each the size and shape of a witch's finger nails. The katana wasn't going to be much help with one, but it's not like Asta has only wield one sword.
With a shift of his intentions, the katana in Asta's hands turns to the Demon Slayer broadsword from his memories, the wide blade was the best defense to be used again projectiles, giving Asta a easier time blocking the shots.
[Ding!]
[T-r-- : ac--qui----d]
The fragmented sound of the panel finally reached the ears of Asta but it was nothing he cared about at the moment.
At this moment, everything he had learnt over his life, from his swordsmanship to his well trained intuition were all supporting him in his perils, helpings him find his way through the ever shifting swarm of shadow hands that kept gathering around him like bugs to a flame.
There he was, dancing in darkness as he cleaned the corruption off his soul. Each step he took shifted him in random directions, each time barely escaping any injury by a spoon's width.
Then as if signifying the end of a performance, he slowly opens his eyes, looking at his own old human appearance before slowly turning his gaze downwards where his Devil version stood impaled by his sword.
"Any last words?"
The devil's eyes widen a little in surprise from receiving such a pity. A smirk formed on his mouth as he gives a giggle and then raises his sight to Asta and spoke:
"You still got someone to defeat, don't you? Go for it, he won't go easy like I did."
The Devil Asta died there, his soul broken down and absorbed to strengthen Asta's own just like those of other thousands of lesser devils that have died in the past few minutes.
Then as if he had travelled between worlds again, Asta blinked to see himself looking down at a tower of stone spikes aimed at him from below.
Far away on the ground he could see Dante, a pair of claw marks running across his face. Soon, the memories to the battle outside entered Asta's mind, giving him a moment to reconcile his thoughts.
It turns out the fight inside him was also happening at the same time while his devil self fought Dante. Just Thinking about it gave Asta quite a bit of pride, to imagine fighting two completely different battles at the same time was very in line with his own personality.
"You bastard, To think you will not even treat me like a decent opponent. *a vien pops up on the arm* I am gonna beat the hell out of you when we meet next!"
Asta knew that his devil version wasn't completely dead. He had just been merged into his own soul, but the day he loses his hope again will be the day they will meet again.
Now there was only one obstacle left, a obstacle that will have to be overcome before Asta could return back to save everyone like he vowed.
"Let's dance... You sadistic scum with a superiority complex."