Mind Demon's Path of Domination

A Demon Emperor's clone was in the Savage World, and the Armor hadn't been headed towards Mark when it flew close so fast. And surprisingly, both the War Slayer Armor and the Demon Emperor had a history with each other.

It didn't take long for those two to begin fighting, and both Mark and Reol'ran were stunned stiff as they watch3r. The skill by which the people before them fought was just incomprehensibly profound.

A Demon Emperor alone was a Tier 5 existence and the Armor didn't seem one bit inferior, in fact, it was superior in its performance. Both of these outstanding creatures were just Tier 2 Pinnacle in the Tiers of Evolution at the moment but they both fought with intensity beyond that of any Tier 2 Mark had ever seen.

In fact, both of them seemed to have a way of fighting beyond their Tier—the Armor had its helmet, the Mask of the Savage, that made it have Tier 3 Low level battle power and the Demon Emperor also seemed to have something similar.

But in the end, the Armor took the chance to nullify Mist Blade and that made the Emperor lose his best weapon. Using the chance, the Armor transformed into a man made of chainsaws and completely shredded the eight headed creature into bits.

Blood and gore exploded, even bathing Mark who stood to the side.

The Armor left one head remaining on the Demon and it grinned.

"As foolish as ever," the Armor said. "You seem to not even remember all my powers—or are you just that delusional due to your greed?"

"Kehk…" The fallen head released a chuckle. "Your greaves can give you Resistance to any attack it has faced once. How great, truly, you are a masterpiece!"

"Humph."

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"Do not be too arrogant, War Slayer. I didn't think I could defeat you with a mere clone anyway," he said with a resonant laugh. "Without Ultimate Demonic Arts, you are impossible to beat. Sadly, my clones can't use those."

"You talk too much." It crushed the last head with its foot. "Next time, it will be your main body—pup."

Mark stood rooted to the side, still staying where he had been when the Armor came in. He took a deep breath, readying himself.

These people, the Armor and the Demon Emperor, must both have information regarding the Sufferings in their hand. As long as he could get them, he could face it with much more confidence. Even Reol'ran didn't know much about it other than the fact that it was a tribulation faced by Tier 5 Beings.

This is an opportunity as much as it is a danger, Mark thought.

The War Slayer rotated its arms and the Demon Emperor's corpse began to turn into smoke. The smoke then rose and was absorbed into the Armor body, and soon enough, it stood up straight.

Mark had felt respect for many people, but for the first time in his life, he felt a sensation of true, profound admiration. But at the same time, he couldn't help but clench his fists.

This was just an armor, but it was so, so beyond his current self. Like a beginner standing before someone who had stood near the endline.

"What is this?" The War Slayer said, turning. "You haven't run away yet? I thought that battle would be enough to scare you away though, you don't seem like the type to need a dungeon to survive in the Otherworlds."

Its multiple eyes blinked all over its body in a weird, mechanical rhythm. It walked to stand in front of Mark, a head taller than him.

"What kind of bloodline is this?" It said, its pupils moving as it seemed to stare into his very soul. "Hm, there is a scent of Dream Demon, Dungeon Demon, and Heart Demon bloodlines in you. A mutant, no wonder you were capable of killing my host—the Savage Lord. Hm, that combination might have created some interesting demonic tricks."

A slight amount of killing intent began to radiate from it and Mark felt his heart chill. Can he match this monster in combat?

Mark stood still. What it said was true. His bloodline was the reason for him having most of his best demonic tricks. Heart Input, Dream Shock, Dungeon Heart Seed, Dream Gambler's Mortal Puppet were all his because of his bloodline.

Without his bloodline, or if he had another one, he would be in a completely different strait today.

"War Slayer Armor," Mark said. "Do you intend to kill me?"

The armor thought with an audible hum, and Mark wondered how it did that. The armor had no hosts inside, and none of its abilities allowed it to produce sound. How did it speak?

"The question isn't whether I want to kill you," the Armor said plainly. "The question is what you want by staying here when you could have perfectly escaped earlier. And now, yes, I do not plan to let you go for free."

"For… free?"

"You got a Seal of Destiny and a Portal Key. Leave it here and you may survive to tell the tale."

Mark clenched his hand and looked at its face with a silent simmering flame in his heart. "I was prepared to die earlier. I came to fight you with resolve to die, but you dismissed me as if I were not worth even your gaze. As if I was insignificant. As if my resolve didn't matter."

The armor's hinges creaked as if in cold curiosity. "Does it matter, really? Not to me, certainly. Not to the universe either. Then, is it supposed to matter in some other way? Are you… not insignificant, little particle?"

Mark sealed away the sense of unwillingness deep in his heart. Rage, hatred, or whatever other emotion, it didn't make a fighter stronger but weaker in battle. There was no need for them in such times.

And he was going to fight. Even though he was more than aware how deadly the enemy was.

No way will he be giving away his hard earned progress and treasures to someone who was of the equal Tier as him.

Mark said, "When I began my journey, I decided that my life would matter, that I wouldn't vanish in the endless expanse of time as another insignificant existence. I swore I'd make it happen."

The Armor shook its head. "And here you are, recklessly challenging a senior who has seen a million more moons than you.

"Dreamers are everywhere, I see them once in a while. Lost in their own dreams, miserable wretches who can't distinguish between fact and fiction.

"You are just one of them, overestimating your own value in the face of reality's bitterness."

Mark listened studiously, not losing the chance to absorb wisdom from the creature before him, one whom he truly did admire.

Now, the time has come.

"Senior," he said. "I shall fight you. If you defeat me, I will give you my Seal of Destiny and Portal Key, I will even give you all the Golden Savage Heart Blood in my hand."

"Cheap attempt at deluding me with greed." The Armor shook its head. "But if you move, do not think for a second that you will leave with your head intact."

Mark got into a fighting stance, a form that was ready to move in the most agile, most fluid form.

"I will still fight. And I will defeat you."

Wings flourished behind him and the Armor stood still. Mark felt the pressure, that aura which seemed to cover the skies themselves.

What was this aura?

Facing it, the harshest realities of the world seem to batter at his mind. Yet, he calmed down and moved, his wings flapping as he began to fly in a circle around the Armor.

He was as fast as sound, hard to catch with the eye but even as he moved in circles, the eyes on the Armor, numerous, followed him with perfect pace.

"There is no one in this world who has no weaknesses," Mark said. "And you are just a Tier 2 Pinnacle, just like me."

The Armor seemed to smile. "So you've prepared some little traps in this dungeon, how cute."

It was a sudden move, a feeling as if time had warped. So quick, Mark couldn't react. The Armor appeared before him and its fist slammed into his chest at lightning speed, and his chest caved in.

Then, his chest exploded and he was slammed into the wall shortly after, only his head and some of his torso remaining. Violet blood caked the walls and floor.

Mark felt his world turn dim.

Aura Teleportation!

Weapon Creation—Hammering Gauntlet!

The many traps he had cooked up, like small holes in the floor that  might affect a fighter's movement in critical moments, were all destroyed due to the impact of the crash, too.

"War lesson no.1," it said. "When you fight in your enemy's homebase, first destroy the homebase. Then destroy the enemy."

Mark coughed up some blood, smiling with a wretched expression. He had only his left hand remaining of his two hand and with all his strength, he made the hand touch his face.

In a quick second, his whole body writhed and regained its perfectly healthy form.

Alchemic Shapeshifting!

Mark might have been fast, but the enemy was faster and it had the power of its helmet, making all its powers Tier 3 Low level. But, Mark smirked, breathing in the bloody smell.

"You cannot even break my defence," it said. "But I will agree you are a bit special for a Middle Demon. Maybe if you had more time, you might be a bit more interesting."

Mark stood wobbly.

"I feel like I am fighting that Savage Lord again," he said with a berserk smile. "Just that he is ten times more intimidating, but I am stronger than then, too. And this time, i have questions to ask. And...

"You are not the only one who could fight a Tier higher."

His heartbeat echoed throughout the cave as Mark stamped his foot on the ground and came back into his battle stance.

Thump!

Blood dripped from him, but his gaze was steadfast.

THUMP!

The red slit mark in the middle of his forehead grew crimson bright. Bone-like structures grew over his face, his horns, and even his neck. He clenched his fist and the very air itself crackled.

Mask of the Savage.

"I am ready," he said, growing into his zone. "Let's begin round two!"

The Armor squinted.