Chương 75: Plagues of Egypt

Damian erupted from beneath the sand. His body shifted from loose grains back into flesh and bone as he threw his head back and laughed.

"Damn." He brushed broken glass from his uniform.

"You really are absurd." Alaric adjusted his glasses.

"Thank you." Damian grinned.

"I suppose I'll have to start trying." He raised his crimson nail and pressed its tip against his chest.

"Sorry if you accidentally die." Alaric's smile faded slightly.

"This nail was forged from one of the Emperor's Philosopher's Stones." The crimson weapon began sinking into Damian's flesh.

"A stone that is nothing short of a divine miracle." Blood ran down his chest as the entire nail disappeared into his heart. Damian's veins ignited. Crimson light spread throughout his body, pulsing beneath his skin with every beat of his heart. His short brown hair lengthened and gradually turned red.

"So consider this your warning." Damian reached for his eyepatch.

"You may very well die." He tore it away. The eye beneath shone a brilliant crimson. A black skull had been imprinted within the iris. A Demonic Eye. The Reaper's Eye. It revealed the optimal path to killing whatever target its owner looked upon. Every weak point. Every opening. Every movement required to reach death. The skull within Damian's eye turned toward Alaric. Then he vanished. Alaric barely had time to react before Damian appeared behind him. A hand seized the back of his head.

Damian drove him face-first into the ground. Alaric's skull smashed against the glass formed from the melted arena sand, sending cracks racing beneath him. Before Damian could strike again, Alaric's body split open. A swarm of locusts poured from beneath his coat. They covered Damian within seconds, biting through his uniform and devouring pieces of his flesh. Damian leapt backward. Crimson energy exploded from his veins, burning the insects away before they could strip him to the bone.

Alaric slowly pushed himself upright. Blood ran down his face.

"Darkness and hail." The sky disappeared. A wall of blackness swallowed the entire arena, leaving Damian unable to see even his own hands. Then the hail began. Chunks of ice rained from above, battering his shoulders and tearing through his skin. Damian closed his visible blue eye. The Reaper's Eye remained open. Even without sight, it showed him the path. He rushed forward. Alaric sensed him too late. Damian's hand cut through the darkness and severed his arm at the shoulder. Blood sprayed across Damian's body.

Alaric chuckled. Damian immediately staggered. His stomach twisted as he vomited onto the sand. Boils swelled across his face and arms wherever Alaric's blood had touched him. The severed limb lay several feet away. Blood poured from its stump, stretched across the ground, and pulled the arm back toward Alaric's body. Flesh reconnected. Bone fused. Within moments, Alaric flexed his restored fingers.

"It's frightening, isn't it?" His voice had changed. Softer. Feminine. His crimson eyes slowly turned purple.

"To be incapable of seeing…" Alaric's smile widened into something cruel.

"While your body is torn apart." Phobia brushed the blood from her cheek.

"My brother is far too passive sometimes." Purple light pulsed within her eyes.

"He only kills when he believes it is truly necessary." She tilted her head toward Damian.

"I am not nearly so considerate." Damian slowly rose to his feet. The Philosopher's Stone pulsed within his heart, crimson light spreading through his veins as the boils and wounds across his body vanished. The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there. He stared at the figure before him. The same face. The same body. But everything else had changed. The posture was different. The voice was different. Even the smile carried an entirely different cruelty.

"Who are you?" Damian raised his fists.

"You're not the same person as before." The woman inhabiting Alaric's body chuckled.

"You may call me Dorothy Sanguine." She offered him a small bow.

"That is the name I chose for myself." Damian's Reaper's Eye focused on her, searching for the fastest path to death.

"If you're truly curious…" Dorothy's purple eyes gleamed through the darkness.

"I am the reincarnation of the First Apocalypse." Dorothy Swallowtail. The Apocalypse of Thorns. She placed one hand against her chest.

"I merely share this body with that man." Damian's expression hardened.

"A monster like you needs to be killed." He vanished. Dorothy barely raised her arms before Damian's fist crashed into her chest. Bone shattered beneath the impact. She was launched across the arena, her body skipping over the glass-covered ground before tearing through the sand. Dorothy coughed up blood as she pushed herself upright.

"Monster?" Her broken ribs began forcing themselves back into place.

"My brother is far more terrifying than I am." Her voice dropped into a whisper too quiet for Damian to hear.

"Though he is sweet enough to ensure The Crows never discover that I am Dorothy." Damian charged again. Dorothy raised one finger.

"My brother once read a book written by Sirius Blackwood." The darkness surrounding them stirred.

"It described a fictional land called Egypt." A buzzing sound spread throughout the arena.

"A nation brought to ruin by ten divine plagues." Gnats and flies poured from Dorothy's body, filling the air around her in a black cloud.

"We found the story fascinating." She smiled.

"So we decided to recreate it." The insects swarmed Damian. The instant the first fly touched his skin— It exploded. Then another. And another. Hundreds of tiny detonations tore across Damian's body, shredding his uniform and blowing chunks of flesh from his limbs. His Philosopher's Stone immediately began repairing the damage. New skin formed. Muscle regrew. Bone reconnected. Only to be destroyed again.

"That regeneration truly is frightening." Dorothy laughed as Damian forced himself through the swarm. He appeared directly in front of her. The Reaper's Eye guided his hand toward her throat. Dorothy twisted aside. She was not fast enough. Damian's fingers tore through the side of her neck, ripping away a chunk of flesh. Blood poured down her chest. Dorothy stumbled backward, one hand pressed against the wound. The spilled blood swelled unnaturally, crawling back into the opening as her flesh sealed itself.

"That was close." Damian rushed forward once more. Dorothy raised both arms toward the sky.

"Now…" Purple light spread through the darkness.

"For the plague upon the livestock." The air above the arena split open. Cows began falling from the sky. Then pigs. Goats. Sheep. Entire herds of livestock rained down around Damian, their terrified cries echoing throughout the arena. The moment one came near him— Its body exploded. Blood, fire, and shattered bone engulfed Damian. Another animal detonated. Then another. The explosions came from every direction, battering him without pause. Damian's body was torn apart and restored over and over again.

Even the Philosopher's Stone struggled to keep pace. Dorothy watched from within the darkness, smiling as crimson light flickered through the storm of blood and fire.

"Let us see…" She raised one hand toward the falling livestock.

"How many plagues it takes to kill a miracle." Damian's body continued to break apart and regenerate. Flesh burned away. Bones shattered. The Philosopher's Stone within his heart pulsed desperately, repairing each wound before the next explosion tore him apart again. Dorothy appeared in front of him.

"Don't worry." She reached through the smoke and wrapped one hand around his throat.

"I'm not cruel enough to inflict the plague of the firstborn." Damian grabbed her wrist and struggled against her grip. His muscles swelled. Crimson energy erupted through his veins. Dorothy did not move.

"Though…" Her purple eyes narrowed.

"I wouldn't be surprised if my brother was." Damian's Reaper's Eye spun wildly, searching for a path to victory. It found none. Dorothy lifted him from the ground with one hand.

"You won't remember this conversation." Her voice softened.

"But you should know one thing." Damian clawed at her fingers as his face began turning pale.

"Despite his appearance…" Dorothy leaned closer.

"My brother is far more horrifying than I will ever be." Damian's movements weakened. His visible eye rolled back. The Philosopher's Stone inside his heart cracked. A sharp crimson light burst from his chest before the stone shattered completely. Dorothy released his neck. Before Damian could fall, she plunged two fingers into his crimson eye. Then tore it free. Blood poured down his face as his unconscious body collapsed onto the sand. Dorothy examined the Demonic Eye resting in her palm.

The skull within its iris continued to move. Still searching. Still trying to find the path to death.

"How useful." She slipped the Reaper's Eye into the pocket of Alaric's coat. Then snapped her fingers. The darkness vanished. The hail stopped. The exploding animals and swarms of insects disappeared as though they had never existed. The crowd was finally allowed to see the battlefield again. Damian lay unconscious in the center of the arena, his uniform torn apart and one eye missing. Dorothy stood over him without a single visible injury. Lord Ars stared down from the imperial balcony.

"Well…" He glanced around the ruined battlefield.

"It's a shame we missed nearly the entire fight." The crowd muttered in confusion. Ars shrugged.

"But the result seems rather obvious!" He raised one hand.

"The winner of the final match of the day is Alaric Sanguine!" The Helheim section erupted into cheers. Dorothy smiled and began walking toward the tunnel. Damian remained motionless behind her. The Demonic Eye pulsed inside her pocket.

"Sweet dreams." Her purple eyes slowly began fading back to crimson.

"You won't remember a thing." She adjusted Alaric's glasses.

"Not even who I truly am."