Gary had figured that today couldn't get worse. It had reached such a level of pure horrific fantasy that he struggled to accept that this was his life. He had assumed that reality would take a break from this utter nonsense, but that was proven to be a foolish thought when he saw the figure of the demon.
The body twitched, its arms and legs wildly spasming as strands of flesh and patches of skin stretched and spun, weaving a complete form as charred chunks of meat and organs were pushed from his mouth and innards.
Yet, the healing did not progress smoothly. The dark fibers of sinew withered and recoiled from the worst injuries, as if singed by the heat of foreign magic that still clung to the wounds.
But the two adventurers spent no time pondering over the magical scene.
'A weapon, I need a weapon!' Panic coursed through Gary as he saw the speedy recovery the demon was undergoing, with a mind filled with a consuming voice that demanded him to finish the threat, to kill it while the chance still remained.
His desperate eyes darted across the floor, lighting up as they found a golden and resplendent shortsword. Gary shot forward like a cannonball as he lowered himself close to the ground, a hand effortlessly scooping the blade from the earth while he barreled toward the demon.
Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the imposing form of Alfred chasing behind with a raised mace, though he failed to match Gary's nearly unnatural agility. The giant still strained his pounding legs as if his life and honor depended on it. No, that was exactly the case, considering the past circumstances.
A shame his weapon would not do much, Gary considered as he glanced briefly at the steel weapon.
His random musings evaporated as he closed the distance, the sword glowing ever brighter as it left a bright trailing curve before plunging into the seizing demon.
Black blood splattered across his bared face as he yanked the metal blade free with an animalistic ferocity, only to be cast down once more. A fiery inferno fueled his raging strikes as he stabbed and tore and slashed, begging for the next blow to finally end it.
His multitude of slashes— done in a frame of only a few seconds —had carved a cavity into the demon's chest. Both the ribs and spine had become visible from his primal butchering, yet the sight of regrowing muscles and tissues left him tearing the hair from his scalp.
How could he still have life in him? Just what level of torment must he go through until he would leave him alone? This- this went beyond a mundane cockroach, it bordered the realm that mortals couldn't reach. Yet, that was exactly what he wanted to do: to cleave each new layer of flesh and bone from the demon's body until something gave. Whether it was the power of regeneration or the strength of his own arms, he would see it through.
In other words: he has had enough.
Alfred watched on with horror as a hint of madness shone from the depths of Gary's dark pupils, bringing the desecrated blade up once more before a mass of stone sent him reeling to the side.
Nor was it the last. All manner of ruined rubble began to coalesce in front of the demon at lightning speed, forming a thick— if still penetrable and hastily constructed —wall around his enemy while Gary recovered from the attack.
A weakly flowing stream of blood dripped from his nose as he stood up, a crimson hue left across dried lips as his tongue licked over the top of them. While the projectile had stung, the pain had brought back the lucidity he had lost, and with it, he could finally notice what had been drowned out before; the screaming of the fortress's walls... they had grown to a feverish pitch.
The castle— it too could fight.
The walls echoed the malevolent aura as it pressed against Gary with all its might as if a guard dog that had just seen its master struck by an assailant, growling while it curled itself around the demon for protection.
But the display did nothing to avert Gary's intentions, his blade already scattering red-hot sparks dancing into the air and swirling with each successive swing. Though the wall was thick, the desperation it had been created with was enough reason to continue his assault.
But it would seem that even a sword of the highest quality was no match for the rotating sphere of earth, the short blade proving unable to do any real damage as the quaking of the dark abode grew.
Gary ground his teeth as the clamor reached a new height, meeting the challenge of the accursed castle with more wrathful blows. All the while, pieces of beams and arches came free from the ceiling as they crashed to the ground around him.
He could tell that whatever creature was putting up a show of might. Trying to frighten him away through the threat of death.
It would not work.
He had lived through hell to get here, and he would rather be admitted into the actual dimension than have all of his work be for nothing.
Survival was no longer the main goal; it was now a matter of pride.
Gary would have gladly continued to wail away for the rest of eternity, if not for the strong arms that suddenly wrapped themselves around him.
"Leave it, Gary! Leave it! We gotta go!" Alfred's voice rang out as he struggled to keep the angered imp under control. "Listen to me, we have to leave! This place is about to fall apart, we're gonna be buried alive if this keeps up."
"Then help me! We are so close. J-just one more hit. One more solid hit on the bastard and it will be over!" Gary screamed as he maintained his struggle with a desperation that matched the castle walls.
A mournful lament met his ears: "Fool! Do you really want to be killed that badly? Why does it matter now? Why can't you be the slimy little bastard you always are, and run away? Have you even thought about the others? Brandus, Edwin... you're sentencing my friends to die!"