A heavy shroud of tension hung in the air, a tangible force warping the very essence of reality where the two stood.
"Destructive Death. Compass Needle!" Akaza's declaration came as a guttural chant, echoing with the weight of eons; beneath him, his compass, a snowflake in design, pulsed with readiness, his demonic presence erupting like a fierce gale.
This compass, was Akaza's Blood Demon Art that cadence of his foe, grew more potent with the strength of the adversary it faced. The stronger the enemy, the more acute the Compass Needle's response—its efficacy magnified against mightier foes.
Jon, devoid of any breath techniques, rendered the move somewhat futile, yet it still offered Akaza glimpses into Jon's unpredictable maneuvers.
Having observed Jon's prior skirmishes, Akaza found his combat style enigmatic, devoid of any discernible pattern, yet lethally efficient. The Compass Needle, he surmised, might just unveil the enigma of Jon's arcane methods.
"Refusing to disclose the lord's whereabouts, and rejecting the gift of demonhood, leaves me no recourse but to end you!" Akaza proclaimed.
Like a specter, Akaza closed the distance, his hands astonishingly aglow with a cerulean energy.
Punch! Punch! Punch!
His fist struck Jon's chest with a bone-cracking impact, convinced he had crushed Jon's skeletal frame and vitals. Yet, he persisted, bombarding Jon's torso with relentless velocity.
Boom!
A barrage of punches culminated in a final, devastating blow, propelling Jon's body through the air, shattering a gravestone upon impact.
"Tsk!"
Akaza's sneer was icy, his disdain for the mere mortal before him clear. Underestimating him would result in crippling, if not fatal, consequences.
"Arrogant fool, to claim the strength to slay the Lord. Your victory was but a fluke, a moment of surprise exploited. You lack the true power to vanquish him!"
"!"
Yet, as the dust settled, Akaza's confidence was shaken to its core.
Centuries of life as a demon had exposed him to myriad supernatural phenomena. Mutations from Muzan's blood had birthed aberrations like the Spider demon family demon. But the entity before him now, the Ghost Rider, with eyes ablaze within a hollow gaze, instilled a terror and pressure surpassing even Muzan's.
"Is this... what is this creature?! Can this still be called human?!" Akaza's voice quivered, the Ghost Rider's oppressive aura eclipsing all he had known.
'Could it be that this human spoke truth? That he held the power to extinguish Muzan-sama at will?!' Shaking off the dread, Akaza's warrior spirit refused to yield to fear.
"Human or demon, it matters not! You are but an obstacle to my ascension!" he roared.
"Destructive Death. Annihilation Type!"
Boom! Boom!
Energy surged once more, Akaza's fists a blur as they sought the Ghost Rider's destruction. Yet, upon impact, an explosion ensued, and the Ghost Rider remained unscathed, Akaza's hand frozen upon the skeletal visage, immobile.
"This... impossible!" Akaza's terror was palpable.
"And... I am bound, unable to move! What sorcery is this?!" His teeth clenched in defiance. "No one has withstood my assault without consequence, yet he stands unmarked. Is our strength so disparate?!"
"How can this be? How can such a chasm exist in this world?!"
Struggling against the shock of the Ghost Rider's power, Akaza regained mobility and launched into his next offensive.
"Destructive Death. Eight-Layered Demon Core!"
His fists, ghostly in their speed, assailed the Ghost Rider from every direction, a relentless downpour.
Yet the Ghost Rider stood, an unyielding monolith amidst the onslaught.
"Impossible, this chasm... it's insurmountable!" Akaza's efforts were met with sweat and futility.
With a sigh of impatience, the Ghost Rider's hand flicked, and a fiery chain lanced forth, piercing Akaza's heart, repelling him.
"Eghhh!"
The demon felt the searing agony, his regenerative abilities sluggish against the burn.
But his focus remained on the formidable adversary before him, a sense that overcoming this foe could elevate him to martial supremacy.
"Then let us clash with our final might!" Akaza, gasping, assumed his ultimate stance. "The strong shall never yield! In defeat, they embrace their dignity!"
"Destructive Death. Final Form: Blue Silver Chaotic Afterglow!"
With those words, a maelstrom of fighting spirit coalesced around Akaza, transforming into a barrage of five hundred punching missiles, enveloping the Ghost Rider in a tempest of blows.
Yet, to the Ghost Rider, these were but the caress of a breeze. His chain, now alight with hellfire, swept towards Akaza's neck.
Slash!
In an instant, the assault halted, and Akaza's head descended slowly to the earth.
In the original story, Akaza, on the brink of death, broke through the limits of a demon with his unyielding fighting spirit. His neck was no longer a weakness, and he could regenerate even after beheading.
But faced with the Ghost Rider's overwhelming might, his spirit was quenched, and no breakthrough came. His body lay still, dissolving into the ether.
"To fall thus..." Akaza's whisper was a murmur of acceptance: "It is not an unworthy end."
The Ghost Rider's flames dimmed, his human form returning.
Jon, foregoing any mockery, extracted Akaza's blood, then knelt, snapping his fingers.
In an instant, it seemed that Akaza's sealed memories were unlocked, and countless familiar memories flooded into his mind, causing his eyes to widen in astonishment.
"These are..." he murmured, tears falling.
Jon, now versed in the Darkhold's arts, had no need for potions to restore memories. His action had returned to Akaza a life once human.
"Your past," Jon stated, his tone detached.
"I see…" Akaza's smile was faint, his human past flooding back—the father driven to death by avarice, the girl he vowed to shield.
This was the catalyst for his demonic transformation.
"Thank… you," Akaza's voice was serene: "Watch out, D…doma pursues your comrade...."
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