The Demon of Desire: the rise of the slum rat

The sigil flared to life as the last rune snapped into place, casting the stronghold in a brilliant, otherworldly glow. The intricate patterns on the floor pulsed rhythmically, resonating with the artifact's energy. Mikhael stood at its center, his blade sheathed, his crimson eyes fixed on the glowing lines beneath him.

Kael's voice was strained as they channeled their mana into stabilizing the sigil. "Once this starts, you're on your own. If you fail—"

"I won't fail," Mikhael said sharply, his tone leaving no room for doubt.

Shirone stood near the edge of the sigil, her golden eyes wide with worry. "Be careful, Mikhael."

He gave her a faint smirk, his hands resting at his sides. "Careful's not my style."

The artifact pulsed against his chest, its whispers growing louder as the sigil's light engulfed him.

The Descent

The stronghold dissolved around Mikhael, replaced by a vast expanse of darkness. The air was heavy, thick with the scent of decay and the faint hum of power. In the distance, fragments of broken memories floated aimlessly—images of battles, faces he couldn't quite place, and shadows that seemed to move on their own.

A voice cut through the silence, low and mocking.

"So, you've come to challenge me?"

Mikhael turned, his hand instinctively moving to the hilt of his blade. A figure emerged from the darkness—a twisted, humanoid version of himself. Its eyes glowed a sickly gold, and its grin was sharp and menacing.

"Who are you?" Mikhael demanded, his voice steady.

The figure chuckled. "I am you. Or, at least, the version of you this artifact wants you to become."

It spread its arms, the darkness around it swirling like a storm. "You've been fighting me this whole time, but now we settle things properly. Let's see if you're worthy of my power."

The First Clash

The figure moved with blinding speed, closing the gap between them in an instant. Mikhael barely had time to react as its blade clashed against his, the force of the impact sending shockwaves through the void.

"Not bad," the figure taunted. "But you're holding back. Afraid of what happens if you use everything I've given you?"

Mikhael gritted his teeth, countering with a series of rapid strikes. His movements were precise and fluid, a combination of Wing Chun chain punches and Muay Thai elbow strikes that kept the figure on the defensive.

But no matter how many blows Mikhael landed, the figure seemed unfazed. It retaliated with a devastating capoeira-style spinning kick, forcing Mikhael to retreat.

Skill: Capoeira Spinning Kick

A fluid, acrobatic kick that combines power and momentum, capable of breaking through an opponent's defense.

"You can't beat me like this," the figure said, its voice filled with amusement. "You're still afraid to embrace the truth."

"What truth?" Mikhael snapped, his blade held at the ready.

"That you need me," the figure replied, its grin widening. "You can't win without my power. Stop fighting it and take what's yours."

Pride's Intervention

As the figure lunged again, a second presence made itself known. A voice, calm and commanding, echoed through the void.

"Enough."

The air shifted, and another figure appeared—a tall man with sharp, aristocratic features and an aura of absolute authority. His eyes burned with a faint blue light, and his posture exuded confidence.

Pride had arrived.

The humanoid embodiment of Mikhael's sin stepped between him and the artifact's figure, his gaze cold and calculating.

"You dare challenge him while he's still unrefined?" Pride said, his tone dripping with disdain. "You overestimate yourself, parasite."

The artifact's figure snarled. "Stay out of this, Pride. He's mine to break."

Pride smirked faintly, his voice laced with condescension. "You think so? Let's test that theory."

A Two-on-One Battle

With Pride's assistance, the tide of the battle shifted. While Mikhael focused on direct combat, using his speed and agility to land precise strikes, Pride exploited the figure's weaknesses with calculated precision.

Pride's unique power, Dominion, allowed him to manipulate the flow of battle, forcing the artifact's figure to overextend and leave itself vulnerable.

Skill: Dominion

Pride's ability to impose his will on his surroundings, controlling the battlefield and disrupting opponents' strategies.

The figure roared in frustration, its form flickering as Mikhael and Pride's combined assault wore it down.

"You think this changes anything?" the figure snarled. "You can't silence me forever."

Pride glanced at Mikhael, his expression stern. "The final blow must come from you. Prove that you're worthy of controlling this power."

The Decisive Strike

Mikhael's grip on his blade tightened as he channeled his energy into a single, focused strike. The artifact's whispers surged, but he silenced them with sheer force of will.

He activated Rising Dragon, his body moving with blinding speed as he closed the distance. His palm struck the figure's chest, shattering its form and releasing a burst of golden energy.

The void around them began to collapse, fragments of darkness dissolving into light.

Aftermath

Mikhael awoke in the stronghold, his breathing ragged and his body drenched in sweat. The sigil on the floor had faded, its glow replaced by faint scorch marks.

Shirone rushed to his side, her golden eyes wide with relief. "You're awake!"

Kael approached cautiously, their gaze wary. "Did it work?"

Mikhael reached into his coat, pulling out the artifact. Its glow was dimmer now, and the whispers had fallen silent.

"For now," Mikhael said, his voice steady.

Pride's voice echoed faintly in his mind. "Remember, boy, this is only a truce. True mastery lies ahead."

Mikhael's crimson eyes burned with resolve as he stood, the artifact's weight heavier than ever.

"Let's move," he said. "This isn't over."