A thunderous boom rent the air as a multitude of stones, tiles, and debris were blasted skyward by the sheer force unleashed. Gideon shot out from the heart of the explosion, his previously seen sharp blade gone, replaced now by a set of austere, heavy black armor adorning his frame. Within moments, Gideon stood once more before Demon Burd.
Burd regarded Gideon's newly manifested armor with a mix of surprise and suspicion. Engraved with ancient patterns, the armor seemed to pulse with encapsulated golden light. The black full-body armor enveloped Gideon, conspicuously missing a helmet, instead featuring a black brow guard that tied his dark hair back, exposing his smoldering black eyes.
"Your feet?" Anger and frustration did not unravel Gideon; instead, they honed his calmness. The swift healing of severed feet was startlingly impressive.
"Ah, my feet? A trivial injury. They're fine now. In fact, unless you grind them to dust, they always come back."
"Severed feet that return?" Gideon met the claim with skepticism before making a mental note, "If there's a next time, I'll make sure to grind them."
"If there is a next time... Now, can we talk about your armor? From what I understand, donning full-body armor like yours should take at least half a day, and that's with several skilled servants assisting. You dress faster than my Susan undresses." (Susan is a succubus, Burd's companion for the last few centuries.)
Gideon chuckled, "Who reveals their weapons' secrets to their enemies? Though really, telling you wouldn't matter." The implication hung in the air, clear to all three present (the third being Azazel, whose body Gideon controlled): Gideon did not consider Burd an adversary worthy of concern.
"My weapon is named 'Wu Bing' (Five Soldiers). There's a verse in the 'Dragon Fish River Map' that says, 'At the dawn of the Yellow Emperor, there were seventy-two brothers named Gideon, with copper heads and iron brows, who consumed sand and stone, and crafted weapons capable of summoning clouds and mist.' What nonsense. When have I ever eaten sand and stone? But as for my weapon, it's true, and today you'll have the fortune to witness its might. It once sent the Yellow Emperor crawling and wailing."
As Gideon spoke, his armor dissolved into a dark luminescence, fluid as water and nebulous as mist, transforming into a silver steel spear. After the knife and armor, this was the third manifestation of 'Wu Bing'—the spear.
Burd didn't wait for the spear to solidify, launching a preemptive strike. As he leaped, a halo of magic illuminated him, casting 'Cat's Grace' and 'Bull's Strength' upon himself. Magic seemed futile against his foe, so Burd enhanced his own abilities instead.
Roaring with fury, Burd vaulted skyward, his sword raised overhead, his power and speed vastly augmented by the spells. Such a strike would reduce even a celestial emissary to a spray of light returning to the heavens.
Looking down from his airborne vantage, the momentary elation vanished; his mighty strike was unstoppable, provided it landed.
And once again, Gideon had disappeared from Burd's sight, vanished as swiftly as the demon's earlier good humor.
'Mage's Eye' relayed Gideon's image to Burd's mind: Gideon descended from the sky, his silver spear multiplying into ten, then a hundred. Burd understood the myriad of stars in his vision were the countless shining spearheads aimed at him.
The sword trembled with incessant clanging, like rain on a tin roof. Burd's entire being tensed as his sword, broad as a door, became a makeshift shield against the relentless assault.
Their midair clash was fleeting, a continuous metallic symphony that echoed even after they landed.
Burd, battered and perforated, with an eye missing, would have been a mortal's end. But he was not mortal; he was a demon.
Upon landing, Burd spun and swung his sword without pause, unfazed by the gruesome injuries. He fought with a fury that brought his demon nature to the fore, his black blood splattering and igniting ferocious flames upon his blade. Where his blood touched the earth, it withered and decayed.
Acknowledging his disadvantage, Burd unleashed a barrage of curses, "You rat! If you're a man, stop darting around. Stand and fight!"
Unexpectedly, Gideon halted his elusive dance, retreating with a feline smirk. "Oh? And what would you have me do?"
Both spells were ready in the back of Burd's mind.
Daring to toy with a demon, let's see who gets the last laugh.
"I'd wager your slender frame couldn't withstand a single strike from me. I'll ask you: do you dare stand still and let me point at you just once?"
"A point?" Gideon's expression was curious.
"Yes, we both stand still, and I'll just point at you. You're not scared of that, are you? A man who's afraid of a mere point?"
To Burd's astonishment, the crude taunt worked.
Gideon scoffed, "There's nothing I fear. Let me see your trick."
As soon as Gideon consented, Burd recited the incantation, invoking one of the most terrifying high-level necromancy spells—Death's Caress.
Even a dragon might succumb instantly to such a dreadful spell.
Burd pointed at Gideon as his other hand made intricate gestures behind his back, preparing another spell—his final move.
A massive skeletal hand materialized in the void behind the demon, a single finger pointing at Gideon.
Death approached, silent and invisible, a torrential force against which there was no evading, no resisting. In that moment, it struck like a pebble in a pond, ripples of mortality spreading outwards.
Burd did not wait to see Gideon fall; he unleashed the second spell. Space itself tore open, and a portal materialized behind him.
This was Burd's last resort: escape.