Mirage stared at Victor, feeling as though the world had turned upside down.
This wasn't real. This couldn't be happening. But no – even when he squeezed his eyes shut and opened them again, the scene didn't change.
Victor still stood in front of him, facing General Hellebore himself. Sweat dripping down the back of his neck, his hands clenched into trembling fists. But he didn't back down an inch.
General Hellebore slid his eyes away from Mirage, instead fixing the full brunt of his gaze upon Victor. Cold dread knotted Mirage's stomach, and he suddenly – crazily – found himself wishing that Hellebore would look at him instead. Not Victor, he didn't have anything to do with this –
"What…." In the silence, Hellebore's sibilant voice seemed to echo. "What exactly might you be?"
Quick, Mirage had to speak. Find some explanation that would satisfy Hellebore, get both him and Victor out of this. But no words broke through the buzzing in his mind, and it was too late, because Victor spoke anyway.
"I'm Captain Mirage's wizard. Victor Hua."
"That's correct," a thin, sharp voice piped up from behind Hellebore. It came from a much smaller demon, pale and skinny with severely cut silver hair and purple eyes behind round glasses. Major Veratrum, Hellebore's personal aide. "This matches our intelligence. Captain Mirage formed a contract with a wizard in order to operate on Earth, and the wizard fights by wearing a dragon scale armor. Furthermore, the wizard has not been enthralled."
With each word he spoke, an icy dagger stabbed Mirage's heart. How the hell did he know all that? None of the Legion members on Tielos had ever met Victor.
"Huh." Hellebore tilted his head, his eyes flashing with mirth. "A thrall who isn't a thrall. So tell me, how is this your fault?"
Victor lifted his head higher, though he couldn't hope to match Hellebore's height. "It's as I said. I forced Captain Mirage to abandon the Legion. Believe me, he's made constant attempts at returning, but I stopped him every time."
What the hell was Victor saying? But even while total nonsense exited his mouth, he kept his gaze resolutely on Hellebore.
"And why did you do all this?" Hellebore asked.
"Isn't it obvious?" Victor said, stony as ever. "I didn't want to be his thrall anymore."
"Hmm." Hellebore rubbed his chin, slow and theatrical. "Could it be...are you also responsible for Colonel Greisen's death?"
They knew about that as well? Damn it all, Mirage should never have underestimated the Infernal Lord.
Without missing a beat, Victor said, "Yes."
Hellebore made a quiet sound from the back of his throat, his Levia deepening. Mirage couldn't read his intentions at all, and that flooded him with a sickening wave of terror.
'Say something, do something,' but too late, Hellebore was already talking.
"So you're saying he isn't to blame."
Victor nodded vigorously. "Yes."
"Oh?" Hellebore's grin widened. "Really now? I rather think it is. After all, he's the one who didn't control his thrall well enough."
"No." A muscle worked in Victor's jaw. "He tried his best, I was just too insubordinate."
"Yet now you're willing to take a punishment for him."
"That's because I recognize I've done wrong." Victor took in a deep breath. "So punish me."
That idiot, couldn't he see this wouldn't work? Why was he even bothering?
Why had he bothered with everything? With saving Mirage from Ulrich? He wasn't enthralled; nothing bound him to Mirage. Nothing except…
'Promise me! I may not belong to you, but you – you belong to me! Don't ever leave me!'
The memory made his heart curl up in shame, and even worse, brought tears to his eyes. Idiot, idiot, he'd been a complete idiot. Promises didn't mean shit; he'd made plenty to Ulrich that he had never intended to fulfill. Yet Victor was still, in spite of everything –
When Hellebore's foot crunched in the dirt, all of Mirage's nerves snapped taut. To his surprise, the general had taken a step backward. He was still gazing at Victor, a strange contemplative light in his eyes.
And more importantly, his Levia quivered in anticipation. Whatever he had planned, it would not be pleasant.
"You know…." Hellebore sighed out the words, smug and satisfied. "I must say I don't believe a single word that's come from your mouth."
Victor stiffened. "I - " he began, but Hellebore spoke over him.
"Still, I have to admit...I'm intrigued. A human who wears a demonic armor. And one who killed Colonel Greisen at that." A grin spread across Hellebore's face, revealing the sharp points of his teeth. "It would be fun, wouldn't it, to test my strength against such a person."
Murmurs rippled through the soldiers behind him – perfectly matching the shock surging through Mirage. Veratrum actually stepped forward, hissing, "General, are you certain?"
"Oh, shut up." Hellebore carelessly shoved Veratrum out of the way. "You, human. Do you still have your armor?"
Victor nodded slowly.
"Good." Hellebore snapped his fingers. "Put it on. Let's fight."
"General – " Veratrum began, but again Hellebore had no ears for him. His gaze was fixed on Victor, bloodlust blazing in his eyes.
For his part, Mirage could only stare at Victor too. He had no idea what was going on, let alone how to get control over this situation. Somehow he had to stop it, but it was already too late, and –
Rough hands grabbed him, yanking him to his feet and dragging him back. Mirage let them. The soldiers were clearing out a wide circle around Hellebore and Victor, giving them space.
Completely emotionless, Victor pulled the jagged black crystal out of his pouch. Mirage couldn't even sense anything through the contract.
Shouldn't he do something? Give Victor some strength, somehow – but it was too late. Purple light flashed, Victor's icy Levia flared, and for the first time in weeks the armor appeared on his body.
Excited whispers bubbled from the crowd. Some dim part of Mirage almost felt proud looking at Victor like this, clad in black armor. But even then, he seemed small and pathetic before Hellebore's might.
And – and he shouldn't be wearing the armor. Not when it killed him a little more every time he did. After that whole mess with Ulrich, Mirage had vowed Victor would never have to put on the armor for no reason ever again.
Just like him, not living up to his promises. Yet Victor still hadn't broken the one he'd made.
Shame settled in Mirage's gut, cold and bitter.
"If I win," Victor said, "may I make a request?"
Oh, the crowd erupted at that. While they laughed, Veratrum sputtered indignantly, and Hellebore's eyebrows flew to his hairline.
"You think you've got a chance of winning, human? I like that confidence." With a loud slurp, he licked his lips. "Sure, if you win you can do whatever you want. You've got General Hellebore's word."
Victor nodded. Then he reached for his sword.
But Hellebore had already struck. Mirage barely had time to feel his Levia surge before two massive woody vines burst from the earth beneath Victor, shedding dirt everywhere. The vines whipped toward Victor, bristling with thorns as long as his torso.
Victor lurched, but couldn't escape in time. One of the vines slammed him across the back, knocking him to the ground with a cloud of dust.
When Mirage saw shards of black armor flying through the air, his heart lodged in his throat. Before Victor could get up, another vine erupted beneath him and punted him high into the air.
He twisted futilely, trying to swing his sword. Only for the vine to catch him around the waist, thorns digging in deep. Armor cracked, stained with blood. Mirage felt Victor's pain sear through the contract, bright and hot.
The vine dropped Victor, slamming him back to the ground. The sword spilled from his fingers. He reached a trembling hand for it, only for Hellebore to kick it aside. Then Hellebore stomped on Victor's wrist with a sickening crunch, and Mirage knew the sound hadn't only come from his armor.
Victor spasmed. Still he struggled, trying to rise.
Too late. Grinning savagely, Hellebore lifted his arms high. Vines crawled around the rippling muscles, covering his hands like spiked gloves.
Mirage couldn't help it – a cry tore out of his throat when Hellebore reached for Victor. His hand closed around Victor's face, thorns piercing into his helmet. One-handed, Hellebore lifted the kicking, struggling Victor into the air. His grip tightened until cracks spread across the armor, blood seeping out through them.
"Victor!" Without thinking, Mirage lunged forward. But the soldiers behind him tightened their grip, dragging him back, and no matter how he tried to fight he couldn't break free. Because he was weak, completely weak, weak to the core –
It was too late now, he couldn't do anything about it. Damn it, he should have made Victor shut up the instant he started talking, insisted on taking the punishment himself. But he'd let Victor interfere anyway, and maybe he'd even welcomed it because it meant he himself wouldn't have to suffer.
He'd thought he was fine with being such a selfish coward. All his life, he'd believed it was the only way to survive. But now, watching as Hellebore punched Victor over and over again, sickening thuds echoing through the air, Mirage wanted nothing more than to take his wizard's place.
All he could do was writhe and thrash, screaming Victor's name until his voice gave out. And even then it wasn't enough. It never was.