Agreas, the malevolent demon, sat lazily on his crocodile, observing the chaos with a twisted smile. His minions wreaked havoc, and the sight of Hiroshi and Ringo as the last ones standing amused him. "Let's see how long they can entertain me," he muttered, settling in to enjoy the spectacle.
Hiroshi fought with unyielding determination, cutting down Agreas's minions one by one. His sword moved with precision and fury, each strike fueled by his grief and rage. The battlefield was littered with the fallen, but Hiroshi pressed on, unwavering.
Suddenly, a monstrous figure loomed before him. It was Monstera, a formidable spirit in Agreas's army. With a menacing growl, Monstera rushed at Hiroshi, wielding a massive wooden spear. The weapon swung down with terrifying speed, and Hiroshi barely had time to react. The spear struck his head, sending him sprawling to the ground, blood pouring from the wound.
The pain was excruciating, but as Hiroshi lay there, something miraculous happened-the wound healed almost instantly. Dazed and still reeling, Hiroshi didn't even realize the extent of his regeneration.
Rising to his feet, Hiroshi glared at Monstera, his eyes burning with the desire for vengeance. As his fury grew, a shadowy aura began to emanate from his body, and his sword dripped with dark energy. With a fierce battle cry, he charged at Monstera, aiming for its stomach. The blade cut deep, and Monstera howled in agony.
But Monstera was relentless. Ignoring the pain, it swung its weapon at Hiroshi. In a desperate move, Hiroshi raised his sword defensively. The clash of weapons should have been enough to block the attack, but the force was too great. Hiroshi's bones tore through his skin, and his hands were left mangled and bleeding.
Monstera's laughter echoed through the battlefield, a cruel sound that mingled with Hiroshi's screams. The pain was unbearable, and Hiroshi's vision began to blur. With a final, agonized cry, he collapsed, his body and spirit broken.
When Hiroshi awoke, he found himself in a hellish landscape, chained and surrounded by darkness. Before him stood Baalze, the same sinister spirit who had once put a sword in his chest. But this Baalze was different-his face was an exact mirror of Hiroshi's.
"You've finally come, huh?" Baalze's voice was eerily calm. Hiroshi recognized it, but it was not the same as the voice from the shadow spirit form. This was more personal, more intimate.
"Who are you?" Hiroshi asked, struggling to make sense of what he was seeing. "You look like me. Are you me?"
Baalze chuckled, a sinister sound that sent shivers down Hiroshi's spine. "Do you need some help, Hiroshi?" he asked, his tone mocking.
Hiroshi was still in shock, unable to process everything. "What are you talking about?" he managed to stammer.
Baalze's expression turned aggressive. "Do you want to take revenge for your sister?" he demanded, his voice rising to a shout.
Tears streamed down Hiroshi's face as he whispered, "Yes."
"I didn't hear you!" Baalze roared. "Do you want revenge for your sister?"
"Yes!" Hiroshi screamed, his voice filled with anguish and rage.
In an instant, Hiroshi found himself back on the battlefield. His wounds were healed, his strength renewed. But something was different. Was this Hiroshi, or was it Baalze? Or perhaps, they were now one and the same.
Hiroshi looked at the monstrous spirit before him. "Hey, you big fatty monster," he called out, his voice dripping with contempt. Monstera turned to face him, and in a blur of motion, Hiroshi drove his hand into Monstera's eyes.
The demon spirit howled in pain, staggering back. Hiroshi didn't need his sword this time; he was fighting with his bare hands, his strength far beyond what it had been. Monstera fell, defeated, and Hiroshi stood over it, his chest heaving with the exertion.
Agreas, watching from his perch, laughed harder. "This is getting interesting," he mused.
As Hiroshi stood amidst the chaos, the line between man and demon blurred. His soul was a battleground, but for now, the fight continued. And as he gazed at the carnage around him, he knew one thing for certain: there was no turning back.