The hall trembled when Lucifer announced the next battle:
"Morfis… against Sitri."
The echo of the words crawled like chains into the hearts of those present.
Ashura laughed, slamming his fist on his seat:
Ashura: "Hahaha! Let's see the next show… which power will devour the other?"
As for Astaroth, he quietly closed his book, speaking in a voice as cold as death:
Astaroth: "This fight will not be a clash of powers, but a clash of minds."
Lilith smiled with a mocking grin, leaning back on her seat:
Lilith: "I think my brother will win."
Erathos, his wounds still burning from the previous battle, lifted his head heavily:
Erathos: "Fear… is not to be underestimated. Even if it looks weak, it is like a plague, seeping in mercilessly."
Scene One: Entering the Arena
Morfis entered first.
His steps were slow, hesitant, as if every stone beneath him mocked his existence.
His body was covered by a wide black robe that swayed with each breath, his eyes hollow, and sweat dripping from his forehead despite the cold arena.
He whispered to himself:
Morfis (trembling voice): "Why… why must I always fight? Fear devours me… and I am fear itself."
Then Sitri entered.
A cheerful laugh echoed.
His voice was light, but deep within, it carried unbearable cruelty:
Sitri (playful tone): "Well, hello… will you kneel before my masks, or will you show us your true face?"
He then raised a black mask, lined with dried blood.
Sitri: "Every mask holds a power, every mask tells a story… what do you have, besides trembling?"
Scene Two: Beginning of the Battle
Lucifer waved his hand.
The arena exploded with crimson shadows, and the battle began.
Sitri raised the mask, put it on his face…
and his power burst forth like a storm, his hand igniting with raw energy, his every movement now faster and sharper.
Morfis stepped back, his hand shaking as he raised his black staff, but his eyes filled with a strange darkness.
Sitri (mocking): "I see your body trembling like a rat before a serpent. Tell me, Morfis… does fear devour you, or do you devour it?"
Morfis (hoarse, frightened voice): "Fear… is neither my enemy nor my strength… it is me… but I… cannot control it."
Scene Three: Explosion of Fear
With every strike from Sitri, Morfis retreated further, the echoes of the clashes shaking the arena.
But suddenly…
a dense aura burst from Morfis, like whispers of a thousand terrified souls.
The sand beneath their feet trembled, and the stone towers of the arena cracked.
Sitri (shocked): "Hah…? This feeling…!?"
Morfis (desperate scream): "Don't come closer!"
From his body, black shapes emerged, like nightmares, their eyes glowing red, their mouths open in voiceless screams.
The audience shivered… even Ashura went silent for a moment, before smiling a savage grin:
Ashura: "Hahaha! Now that's… interesting!"
Scene Four: Masks vs Shadows
Sitri put on another mask, the face of an ancient warrior.
Suddenly, his muscles swelled, his movements became sharper and sturdier.
He stomped the ground, sending a shockwave that shattered Morfis phantoms.
Sitri: "Fear without a face… is weak. But I possess countless faces!"
Morfis (terrified): "But… what if you saw your true face?"
He raised his hand, and from his fingers spiraled a vortex of darkness, filled with distorted faces mimicking Sitri's masks.
The masks began to crack, as if facing their terrifying reflection.
Sitri (angrily): "You dare taint my masks?"
Morfis: "Fear… doesn't spare faces… it reveals them."
Scene Five: The Generals' Reactions
Lilith gasped in shock, her body trembling for a moment:
Lilith: "It's… even I feel a shiver inside… what is this?"
Erathos smiled faintly:
Erathos: "That's my brother… weak in body, but within him lies a bottomless abyss."
Astaroth closed his eyes, his tone still cold:
Astaroth: "Fear… is not mere magic."
Scene Six: The Decisive Moment
Sitri screamed, donning a third mask, the mask of the beast, releasing immense power that tore through the shadows.
Morfis staggered, his chest heaving, his eyes brimming with black tears.
Morfis (whispering): "I… am only a mirror. And fear… sees everything."
A final storm of darkness erupted from him, unstable, smashing into Sitri with overwhelming force, cracking part of his mask.
But Sitri, with a mocking grin, removed the mask… revealing the Mask of Truth.
His face glowed with pure black energy, his voice trembling but steady:
Sitri: "Even fear… needs a face to remain."
He struck Morfis with a decisive blow, crushing him to the ground.
But Morfis did not vanish.
The shadows still lingered… as if fear itself could never die.
The generals felt it too… fear was still seeping into their hearts.
Lilith (whispering): "He's not defeated yet."
Ashura (laughing, voice slightly unsteady): "Hahaha… this is fun… truly fun…"
Astaroth quietly closed his book again:
Astaroth: "Fear… never loses. Even if its wielder falls."
Baphomet waved his hand lazily, speaking mockingly though his tone held sorrow:
Baphomet: "As for me… I want to see which one will break first."
Suddenly, Morfis surged forward, his trembling hand transforming into claws of shadow.
Each claw carried a human scream, as if imprisoned souls burst forth with him.
Morfis (whispering shakily): "Run… run… or fear will consume you."
But his steps were heavy, as though chained by himself, yet the shadows spread, engulfing half the arena.
Sitri grinned behind his mask, his voice echoing like a thousand faces:
Sitri: "Hurry up, I'm dying of boredom."
Suddenly, a wave of energy erupted, half warmth enticing, half cold extinguishing.
The shadows around Morpheus evaporated, as if their source was severed.
The arena was stone and silence once more.
Morfis collapsed to his knees, his body trembling violently.
He lifted his head, black tears streaming down his face.
Lucifer remained silent, his eyes gleaming, as though testing something deeper than mere combat.
Scene Eight: The Transformation
While everyone thought Morfis had collapsed…
he slowly raised his head, a twisted smile forming on his trembling lips.
Morfis (whispering): "Fear… is not just shadows."
Suddenly… mist surged from his body again, but this time it wasn't fear for others… it was his own fear manifesting.
A monstrous entity rose behind him, larger than the arena itself.
The beast's voice boomed, like the echo of his terrified heart.
Lilith (whispering): "What is this being…? Even my soul trembles at it."
Erathos (coldly): "That is no beast… it is a reflection of all that Morpheus fears."
The monster attacked wildly, each step shaking the earth, its many mouths unleashing voiceless screams that paralyzed the will.
Sitri struggled desperately, shifting masks rapidly:
Blocking.
Striking.
Exploding with energy.
But the darkness consumed it all.
Sitri was nearly crushed, blood covering him, but his eyes still burned with determination.
The Final Moment
Sitri donned one last mask, one never seen before: a mask with no features.
As he wore it, all sound vanished… no scream, no moan, no roar.
The beast froze, disoriented, as if its world—born of screams—had been stolen.
Morfis (shocked): "What… have you done?!"
Sitri (calm, deep voice): "Even fear needs a voice to live… and I have torn that voice away."
Sitri used the opening, fusing the power of all his masks, and struck the beast with a decisive blow.
The monster shattered like black smoke, screaming silently as it faded into nothingness.
Morfis collapsed on his back, unconscious.
Sitri staggered, barely breathing, his masks falling one by one.
Lucifer raised his hand, his voice ringing with judgment:
Lucifer: "The victor… Sitri."
A heavy silence filled the hall.
Ashura (laughing loudly): "Now that's how battles should be!"
Lilith (uneasy): "But the price Sitri paid was heavy…"
Erathos (smiling faintly): "It's fine, brother… you did your best."
Sitri, covered in bruises and blood, didn't smile as a victor.
Instead, he staggered toward Morfis, knelt down, and gently lifted him, resting his weakened body on his shoulder.
Morfis (fearful voice): "What are you doing?!"
Sitri (smiling playfully): "We're friends now, aren't we?"
Morfis (nervous laugh): "…Fine."
A strange silence filled the hall.
Lilith (in disbelief, whispering): "I never thought such a brutal fight could… birth a friendship."
Ashura (laughing madly): "Hahaha! Yes, yes—even in the battlefield… friendships are born!"
Erathos only smiled warmly.
Astaroth remained indifferent.
Baphomet (mockingly, yet with tears glistening): "How beautiful… friendship."
Oceloth (coldly): "A good fight… but what is this nonsense."
Then Lucifer's voice boomed again:
Lucifer: "The next battle… Astaroth against Ashura."
Ashura (ferocious, excited voice): "Hahahaha… finally, I've grown tired of waiting!"
The arena shook with savage applause and laughter, for everyone knew this clash would be unlike any before.
It was the meeting between the Lord of Cold Magic and the Beast of Bloody Battles.
Scene Two: Ashura's Entrance
Ashura leapt into the arena, his massive body gleaming in the dark, his six arms bulging with power.
His three faces laughed together, their voices shaking the walls.
Ashura: "Come down, Lord of Miserable Magic… I'll slit your throat!"
Scene Three: Astaroth's Entrance
With utter calm, Astaroth closed his book, fastening it to his belt before standing slowly.
His eyes showed not a single trace of emotion.
Narrator: "The clash of the strongest approaches… who will emerge victorious?"