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Chapter 12

Ifrit was burning up. Everything around him blurred as his vision started to fail him. The heat of the fifth circle's fire was far more than the lava flow in his own layer, and all of it came out from Azgal's body.

Nothing in that place had become a weapon of significance to Ifrit. While the floor was chipped to make for a plank, it was useless upon the fire that generated after. Trying to use his own fire was useless on the basis that he couldn't even concentrate in a torrent of pain and pure hatred.

He couldn't scream or even feel anything. He started to slip into unconsciousness, barely even able to keep the sword solid. Ifrit wasn't surrendering, though. Fueled by his own will to fight, he wanted to end the fight and save the whole place. He couldn't let a raging wrath demon on a loose, could he?

Some minutes before, everything seemed calm. Using only claws, Ifrit still managed to hold on his own grounds, but a wrath demon mastered every known hand-to-hand combat technique known to a demon, and possibly from the damned souls. Knowing that the fight would reach a stalemate at one point, Azgal stopped the fight, and did the most unpredictable move. Stabbing his own self (as he had the free will to do so), Azgal relieved himself of his earthly shell, and out came a figure of fire, hatred, and animal that Ifrit knew was all over the explanations of demons.

"Come on, Ifrit! What's your waiting for, you pitiful dog! Kill this old demon, you cocksucking motherfucker! That's what you want, huh? To save this useless realm populated by jelly-made humans?"

Since getting out from his human shell, Azgal reverted to his real demonic self, and that personality, coupled with the urgency of the matter at hand, started to make Ifrit mad enough to start materializing devil blade out from his wounds. He tried to move, out of pain, anger, and urgency, to finish Azgal. The action the demon made was too much for the surface world to bear.

"I'll kill you if this action is necessary, Azgal! You've threatened this city for turning into your real body! You must stop this!"

"Once I've turned, I can't go back to my body, Ifrit! You either kill me, or die useless! Or, you can absorb the heat all around you like a proper wrath demon, but you're just a weak little hellhound! Come on, give me a proper fight!"

"I really hate you for pushing this shit too far..."

Ifrit mustered every concentration he got and started running, roaring to give the illusion that he could actually hurt Azgal in his primal form. He could go past through the most severe of the blade dance, but upon trying to sink his claws into Azgal's body, a clawed hand snatched one of his hand and pulled him to the demon, which was close enough to see through the blur and haze.

Azgal's primal form was of that of a goat. While he didn't look very threatening without the fire around him, the red eyes and the black fur he had was an indication that he was not an ordinary goat. The tattered remains of Sheldon's clothes were still intact, and his lean body hadn't changed either. Some of the body parts, though, weren't like any goats. No goats had a demon's tail. It's just a common trait for a demon to had their animalistic primal form to have a long tail.

"You can't possibly think that those black claws can kill me, do you, Ifrit? Take the anger that you've been taking, and put it into a blade! I bet your dead Eshdar can't even think how his friend will die in the most pitiful state!"

"Don't talk about him like that!"

"I bet he's going to see how your body becomes dust, and he will see how you, a good friend and comrade, is actually nothing but dust and bones. The afterlife holds many surprises, don't you think? He might suffer long before sleeping in pieces. I would love to see the thought of that!"

The laugh of a pure demon was enough. Ifrit snatched the hand and started to try to rip it off, which partially successful as Azgal dropped him out of surprise. In a fit of rage, he roared loudly, out of his own body's character, and he could feel the anger and pain started to materialize as a weapon of pure hatred. Ifrit didn't think anything anymore. All he wanted to do was to kill Azgal for insulting Eshdar.

Yet, something very bad happened, and both of them became surprised. Despite of the hatred and vengeance that Azgal had fueled, the sword failed to materialize. The red outlines were seen for a moment, and just like before, it started to form an ornate sword. It gave a glow that made it full as a proper demon blade. The problem was, it quickly exploded when Ifrit made another roar of rage, which burned the hellhound's hand.

The very after-effect itself was severe. The hellhound quickly fell to his knees, knowing that despite of the sacrifices both of them made, it didn't go the way it supposed to be. Ifrit knew he was done for. He couldn't put any more of the rage into him. The fire around him was too hot for him, and Azgal couldn't seem to be able to control them.

"I guess my bet's failed, Ifrit Schelkz," said Azgal with a sigh. Sitting near the hellhound, he said, "Unless this fire is out, I won't be staying on this plain for too long. As a punishment, I won't be seeing you for a very long time before I'm free. Anytime now, this fire will be my downfall."

"At least I won't be seeing you being dragged into prison for doing something like this. I'll be meeting with Eshdar soon enough. Besides, they won't need me. I'm just as expendable as everyone else."

"(Giving up so soon, my friend? It's not like you at all)."

The voice came to him like a hallucination, despite of it being all real. When Ifrit had closed his eyes, he slowly opened them to find a white background. Everything was white, except for the presence of a particular red furred hellhound in front of him that caused him to wonder. Eshdar was still wearing his usual hunting garment, but now, he didn't bother to cover his tail and his hood was open, revealing his dirty-colored pair of short horns and the wildly combed red mane (or hair, if you prefer either one). Though he wasn't carrying his usual bow and arrow, he was carrying his ever handy second weapon, an ornate dagger.

"(You've certainly come this far, man)," said Eshdar while helping him getting up. "(Got to admit, you look like shit from here)."

"(Well, I've been through a lot when you left us. Am I dead?)"

Eshdar smiled. "(Depends on what you say it yourself. It's just a white plain place with no end and no beginning. Nothing's here except me)."

"(So, you've been trapped in this place after you've died? Oh, Eshdar...I can't imagine the loneliness...)"

"(It's just a gateway. Like a carriage station. It's the place where I wait. Not for long now, yet for you, it's still a long way to go)."

"(But Eshdar...do you even believe in the afterlife?)"

He became silent, but Ifrit knew he had his own doubts himself. Concealing his emotions, though, he asked Ifrit if he wanted a walk. Ifrit just nodded.

"(I'm not all that lonely, you know. This is just a limbo between worlds. I've died, yes, but there's a very long queue for me to cross to the afterlife. I'm not saying if there's a heaven or hell for me. If it's heaven, I'll be burned to crisp, but if it's hell, I don't know where I'll end up. I don't even believe in reincarnation, either. That said, I just wish it's another place where I can go live on forever)."

"(But, who are you talking to?)"

"(To some of my ancestors. They're just piling up in this limbo waiting to go and...well, my father...or my grandfather now, I guess, would love to see his own father again, right?)"

Ifrit made a chuckle, but he didn't know if it was sincere or not. His friend was waiting to pass through, and it was just a matter of time that Ifrit would. When Eshdar was gone, Ifrit would be lonely again, but if he didn't die, he would never want to see Azgal go either. The demon might be in pain. The feeling that he somehow found had made his sympathy extended to the wrath demon as well, despite of knowing that it was how the hell was structured.

Eshdar seemed to sense this, and said, "(Having feelings are great, Ifrit. You cannot imagine you much you've achieved from becoming human. But then, Ifrit, it's not in ourselves that rules are made. For the hellhounds, there are hellish rules that must be broken to be more of a surface dweller. But then, with that, we've seen so much more. The world is a brilliant and colorful place, Ifrit. We have found enemies, we have found friends, but that doesn't mean we can go away leaving them behind, right? When your life flashes in front of you, you see everything you love and everything you have protected...but then, you also see those who will miss you when you die. That strong feeling is how you'll get a strong power that defies every rule.

"(It's not time for you yet to go, Ifrit. You're not even dead yet)."

"(But how can you talk to me?)"

"(There are more things you can learn while you're dead)."

There's a voice of horses walking, and it was getting louder and louder any second. Ifrit knew this was time, and so, he turned to his back, and saw the same scenery that he last saw. It was still blazing, and the goat figure of the wrath demon was still there, waiting for the inevitable.

"(If I can just...take everything into me..., Azgal didn't need to go. He's too important, and he would have a chance to be a better demon. Goddamn it, if I can just use the blade I would...)"

"(Hey, buddy, if you want to know the simplest secret, you might laugh)," said Eshdar. "(But let me tell you somethin' for that. Don't stop believin' on miracles, even if you're a demon)."

"(Can I believe one day you'll return?)"

Eshdar made a smile. "(How about if it's true for me?)"

A strong light came upon them, and Ifrit was blinded momentarily. The next moment he knew, he came back to the real world, with the world still burning around him. Now, with a counsel from his best friend, he knew, that despite of all the rage, he never believed in what he was. Wrath was not always the answer.

He knew that believing was seeing, and as he saw it, the fire was starting to burn everything. Ifrit could absorb a little of those flame, but how about if he could be more optimistic and take them. Taking a long breath, he put one of his hands to the fire. It started to burn him, but it wasn't needed. All he needed was a word, and he perfectly knew the word as if he had learned it many years ago as his memories started to jolt.

"(Extinguir...)"

The fire that had been flickering about around him started to recede, starting from the one he touched. Ifrit moaned a bit from the pain, but he knew it was over. He put out the fire, and suddenly he saw another memory. It was just a flash, but it was seen very, very clearly.

"(The sword you'll carry is not a sword of steel, but of souls. There's no rage and anger can defeat the power of your soul)."

He knew the answer. The sword made of pure soul energy. His own survival is now his power as the sword he sought to made materialize slowly from his palms. He didn't need blood any longer. It was the new form of the devil blade.