While Sahia and Maximilain were focusing on the succubus that never even gave them her name, Ifrit’s fight with Sovor took the turn for the worst. Ifrit was thrashed around despite his efforts in outsmarting the leopard demon in his own game. In fact, the hellhound had finally found the pattern and the weakness of the demon’s flying swords to the point where Sovor was forced to engage Ifrit using his own hands. However, therein lies the true problem for Ifrit.

Ifrit found out the hard way that his own claws and teeth could hurt Sovor as he was a half-demon. That did not help the fact that Sovor had a great resilience, and that resilience was the reason why Ifrit could not have a meaningful edge. More than once, Ifrit’s attack was shrugged off. More than once, Sovor returned the favor by slashing him. The wounds and the gashes were severe enough to be fatal, though for Ifrit, it only weakened him.

Yet, being weakened in a fight against a powerful demon would end with death, and Ifrit could not do anything as he lost a lot of blood and fell to one of his knees, propped up by his hand. For Sahia and Maximilian, he looked like he was kneeling, conceding defeat, while Sovor stood over him triumphantly, while at the same time also showing off a toned, humanoid body covered in what arguably the most exotic looking fur pattern the two had ever seen, more so than the red-orange fur of a fox.

“I thought you had it in you,” said Sovor with a disappointed tone. “But I guess your hellhound heritage is far more powerful. I can respect your wish to not be associated as a demon. Too bad you can’t even handle an anti-demonic weapon without hurting yourself. You failed to find a middle ground.”

“Yeah, well….” Ifrit shouldn’t have given up, but at this point, he realized that, unless he could unleash his Infernal abilities, he would die. He tried over and over again, even yelling at his own darker personality to help him or they would both die. Even his other self was unable to help.

Just before Sovor could decapitate him, Maximilian shot the demon in the back. The shot connected, but it wasn’t strong enough to kill the leopard demon, although the shot did cause the demon to reel in pain. He turned towards the married couple, fearlessly brandishing their weapons against the leopard. He smiled.

“Now, this will be more of an entertainment,” said Sovor. “Killing a succubus is a great feat. For mortals, of course.”

The two engaged the leopard, but stayed away from the flying swords, unable to even get close. Ifrit, meanwhile, had lost most of his strength propping his hand, with him underestimating the damage on his body. He fell to the ground on his own pool of blood, feeling faint and losing consciousness.

The loss of blood also made him hallucinate. Or maybe, he was drifting into his own subconsciousness. His brain would be the last thing that would fail before he could die, so maybe this was the moment when he realized that he might be dying.

There, he saw himself, but this time, he wasn’t on the cross. The more demonic looking other self, while still wrapped in chains and movements restrained, looked over him wearing a severely tattered leather jacket. Ifrit scoffed, thinking that his other self was mocking him and was going to take over once he lost control, but instead, he only stared at him with a serious look.

“(Denying it won’t get you anywhere, Ifrit),” said his other self. “(Nor will it save you).”

“(I’m trying…to accept),” said Ifrit, weakly. “(Why?)”

“(One definite proof: I’m still here),” said his other self. “(You think I’m this dark, psychotic personality who wants to see the world burn, but the more you think of it that way, the more you tear yourself apart. Having me sealed off by our parents doesn’t make it easier, either).”

“(What…do you know…about my parents?)”

“(More than enough to know that they were planning to turn you into a ‘good’ child, while releasing me when they need a weapon. Yeah, I know. They’re shit. But they are dead, and their hold got weak. That’s why you can heal yourself with fire. That’s why you didn’t immediately die when you plunged into the water. That’s also why I can get a hold of you, even if for a moment. But that isn’t what it’s supposed to be Ifrit. You and I are two sides of the same coin, except said coin is split right down the middle. We cannot become two separate beings).”

“(That is what I have been trying to do!)” yelled Ifrit, mustering enough strength to raise his voice in anger. “(You are supposed to come when we are dying! You did it effortlessly before, so why not now?! You got a death wish or something?! Tired of being locked in a weak-minded fucker like me?! Huh?!)”

“(There is a time when the main personality returns to the surface after healing),” said the other personality. “(It took three years for it, so you can thank me for that, not to mention the notoriety of the demon killer Ifrit Schelkz. When that time comes, however, you will be given a choice. We either confront each other and argue for the rest of our lives like a schizophrenic, or you can make peace and truly accept your heritage: that of a hellhound, and that of an Infernal. Also, as time goes on, my control will be weakened as you returned to your strength. Normally, there will be more time, but you dying pushed the time table up a bit. This time, you can’t rely on me to save you anymore. It’s a one-time deal).”

“(But even if I want to…I’m going to die, either way. My body’s failing, I can feel myself going dark, and there isn’t any fire around us to trigger the healing process).”

“(There is one more trick up our sleeves, but like before, you only got one chance to make it right. If you don’t, well…down the gutter you go).”

Ifrit scoffed. “(You are not helping).”

“(Might as well hear your own voice before you start believing someone else. It helps, you know. Love and friendship give you perspectives, but in the end, you make your own choice. And you can’t make a choice if you’re half of what you are. So…convinced yet)?”

Ifrit was given a hard choice, even though the choices were not as hard as he made it to be. Of course, it all boiled down to the hellhound’s acceptance of who he really was, and whether he wanted to stay alive in his second chance or just die again. No one would even miss him, not even Lilac. To him, everyone had moved on, and him returning to life unexpectedly made him the center of attention, exacerbated by the revelation of the past that was not as he thought it was.

His mind started to fade. He needed to give the answer quickly or he’d be locked into one: to die and be done with it. He couldn’t find the weights for each choices, but the mention of ‘love’ and ‘friendship’ made him realize that they really did give him a certain perspective. He never had those feelings before he met Lilac, Albert, and Eshdar. He certainly appreciated the company of Anubis and Arnulfe. Despite their rough start, he and Rhynsa managed to find respect with each other.

They were struggling to fight the Incursion while Ifrit debated with himself whether he wanted to accept his demonic heritage or not. He groaned as he realized that his other self was right. They gave him the perspectives he needed, and it was his decision that would affect their lives.

He was reluctant at first, but soon realized that reluctancy would put him right back at the start. With a determination to follow in the choice he made, and to finally put the confusion behind him, Ifrit rose, finding a strength to continue. He then turned to his chained self and silently put his hand on him. His other self smiled.

“(Took you long enough),” said his other self as the chains disintegrated. “(A moment longer and you might not even get to make a choice).”

“(It has that dramatic flair),” said Ifrit with a smile. “(Okay, now what? You said we have one more trick up our sleeves. At this point, anything’s a good trick).”

“(It’s pretty simple. Imagine the fire burning. Feel the healing sensation. Do that, and you will have enough strength to get yourself going).”

“(But does it heal me?)”

“(Like I said, you only have one chance to make it right).” His other self paused, before he smiled. “(Ifrit, or rather…me. Thank you for finding your own strength. This time…it’s your story to tell).”

“(What do you mean?)”

“(This is goodbye).” The other Ifrit started to fade in the burning landscape. “(Well, not goodbye, since I am you, but…you know what I mean. Go get him, Ifrit Schelkz).”

Ifrit felt relieved that he did not need to bicker with himself, but at the same time, he felt rather…sad. Even though he only knew his split personality for a while, it felt like he had been there with him since the start.

Nevertheless, Ifrit concentrated on the imagination of fire, to when he was healed by it every time he was injured, even back when he first met Lilac, where he put his hand in her fireplace to heal. The sight of Sidve burning wasn’t exactly a pleasant sight, but then again, a pleasant sight wasn’t something Ifrit had in his mind right now.

He needed fire. He needed to imagine that the world was burning. He must win!

***

Sovor did not need as much effort when fighting against Sahia and Maximilian. Already exhausted and injured by their earlier fight, it did not take long for them to be defeated. He did commend them for being able to stop being killed and were only incapacitated to the point of total exhaustion.

Nevertheless, it was over, and the leopard demon was already through playing games. He thought the black-furred hellhound would be interesting. Maybe if he wanted to fight against an Infernal, he should’ve just declared his intention to Azgal, the true Infernal currently causing mayhem in the middle of the town. While he was aware that doing so would only put him in a tight spot, considering that the debacle that delayed their Incursion was caused by an infighting among demons, along with a demon killer that went around interrupting skirmishes, he didn’t care.

It wasn’t his fight, after all. The whole business was nothing but the result of a bruised ego, at least for him.

Sovor, however, found that he did not think of his opponent well enough to anticipate his sudden reinvigoration. It also came with quite a dramatic spectacle, too.

Ifrit, who seconds earlier was struggling to keep his pace with Sovor, was now returned to his optimal form, along with being surrounded by flame. Not only that, he grabbed the supposedly useless sword as it was engulfed in flame, turning it into a flaming sword. The fire around him, in addition to the flaming sword, made him very intimidating, even to Sovor. It was made doubly so by the fact that, as a demon, he was quite wary of the type of fire Ifrit used.

However, Sovor also noticed that, while the fire was intimidating, Ifrit’s wounds were still open. The impossibility of him still capable of doing such a feat while bearing injuries that could incapacitate him meant that this was a big gamble for him. Even though he was an enemy, Sovor couldn’t help but be astonished. In fact, he never thought he could even respect the half-Infernal’s tenacity.

Sovor also knew that it was dangerous to underestimate someone with full control of hellfire, not to mention being wounded. All demons, especially fighters like him, always assumed that a wounded person, regardless of whether it was demons, humans, or any other races on Earth, would be more dangerous. So, he wasn’t going to play around. If his adversary wanted a fight, then the leopard demon would give it to him.

Ifrit, on the other hand, noticed that Sovor decided not to levitate his swords and kept his distance. He soon concluded that his fire could wound and possibly kill the leopard demon. However, he also surmised that, because the demon knew Ifrit had become a threat, he would be more careful in engaging the half-Infernal hellhound.

There was a tense moment of both combatants staring each other down while slowly inching closer towards each other, up to the distance of their swords. Sovor’s dual wielding and Ifrit’s fire-enhanced sword felt like it could be so one-sided, with Ifrit possibly dominating. But when their swords clashed, it was not the case.

The swords were equal in strength and durability. However, Sovor had an edge in which he could extend his attack range by momentarily letting go and telekinetically control his sword. Ifrit wondered why he didn’t do the keep away strategy. He soon found the answer when Ifrit deflected one of the swords by forcing Sovor to let go, with Sovor using the same sword to blindside him. Ifrit’s intense fire melted the sword as it stopped inches from Ifrit’s back. Its identical pair, still in Sovor’s right hand, was undamaged even after cutting through the hellfire. This made Ifrit realize why he chose to close his distance and kept his swords firmly in his grip.

But Ifrit’s tenacity, fueled by the hellfire and his desire to win before his body failed him, managed to give him the strength to overcome Sovor. Unlike before, he simply fought without even considering his safety, and this worked as Sovor did not expect Ifrit to be so aggressive while he fought methodically before. Overconfidence could be the reason for this change of strategy, though running out of time could be another plausible reason.

This risky, no-nonsense attack paid off. For the first time since their fight, Ifrit started dominating the fight not with subterfuge or feints, but with raw strength. He swung his flaming sword over and over relentlessly, each strike threatened to deflect the last sword the leopard demon had. Even if he could redirect and parry the easy-to-read attacks, he couldn’t. Somehow, the hellhound’s strength was equal, maybe even more than Sovor thought. It was he who was losing the battle.

Ifrit’s roar was loud and full of rage. It was loud enough to make both Sahia and Maximilian shudder. They never thought he could possess such strength. However, no matter what they tried, they could not fear him. They admired him, as they knew Ifrit’s injuries would stop him soon enough.

Yet, fortunately, that did not happen. Ifrit’s tenacity and endurance won over Sovor, who decided that he could not fight Ifrit head-on. This change in behavior did not slip by Ifrit. His mind, despite of acting like a berserker, was still sharp. Once Sovor’s resistance was gone as he tried to slip away, Ifrit grabbed the leopard’s hand and headbutted him. He then kicked Sovor’s stomach before running the flaming sword through the demon’s guts. This time, the damage caused Sovor to reel in pain, even coughing out blood. His wound was instantly cauterized by the searing heat of the flame and was stuck in his stomach.

Realizing that he lost, all Sovor could do was dryly chuckle as he spewed out more black blood.

“That’s…what I expect when we first met,” said Sovor. “The tenacity of an Infernal…in the body of a mortal.”

“Surprised?” said Ifrit.

“Surprised that your body is not falling apart, or at least melting because of the heat. Then again, a spawn of an Infernal is unheard of. You gave me quite a spectacle there, mortal. I’m impressed.”

“You sound a little too amused for losing,” said Ifrit. “Still have tricks up your sleeve?”

“Wearing nothing but a loincloth?” Sovor scoffed. “Really, that’s not appropriate. Though, I do have some tricks, if only the summoning ritual is perfect. Only Ose’s gift can perfect the summoning. That being said, I don’t think they are prepared to be turned into his servant, looking like this.”

“Well, one thing’s clear. I win. That kind of excuse doesn’t count.”

There was a chasm opening beneath the demon. He slowly floated down as Ifrit jumped out of the circle.

“One week on the surface’s not that bad,” he said. “But it’s back to the life of a Third Circle, I suppose. Not that I mind. This…Incursion business is nothing more than mortals squabbling like children for the delusion of power. I don’t think they know the consequence of allying with demons.”

“Consequences?”

“Consider them in our debt,” said the leopard with a deep chuckle. “Hell’s going to need a little expansion project for your enemies, hellhound, and I’m going to enjoy studying them for eternity. You’re invited, of course. You are a being of two worlds. Maybe someday, you will find your true calling.”

“Whatever it is, it won’t be as a demon,” said Ifrit. “I am what I am, a hellhound with Infernal blood. Like you said, I am a being of two worlds. But you know what? Acknowledging the fact does not mean I should follow it.”

“We’ll see. Oh well. Enjoy whatever struggles you have…while it lasts.”

With those parting words, the demon disappeared under the chasm as it closed, leaving Ifrit, Sahia, and Maximilian alone.

After making sure that they were in the clear, Maximilian approached Ifrit and said, “You have a strong heart, herr Schelkz. That power is not something you wield carelessly.”

“It’s not something I’ll do often,” said Ifrit. “Good thing all I lose is my sword. I—”

Suddenly, he felt the pain from all his injuries all at once, causing him to grunt in pain and fell to his knees. The injuries that were closed suddenly reopened, and this time, it could threaten his life.

“Sahia, get some first aid kit,” said Maximilian. “Go!”

“No! Wait! Start…start a fire!” exclaimed Ifrit.

“To cauterize the wound, right? Yes, we know what we’re—”

“You don’t need the first aid kit! Start a fire!”

Both were confused, but Ifrit’s labored breathing and glare meant that he was serious. Without delay, Maximilian pulled out his lighter as Sahia gathered some nearby branch. Despite the winter season, the area was clear of winter, so she could find some dry branches that she could use to start a fire which could possibly save Ifrit.

The fire could not be started without a starter, which wouldn’t be possible without dry leaves. However, Ifrit, in a desperate act to save himself, grabbed the lighter and, concentrating, causing the fire to burst out much bigger than the lighter could handle before throwing it to the branches. They started rather quickly, so Ifrit dragged himself to the fire and, without hesitating, put his head on it, to the objection of the couple.

Yet that objection turned to astonishment as Ifrit’s head wounds started to heal, along with the worst of the gashes caused by Sovor. Ifrit winced in pain, clearly did not expect his wounds to heal so rapidly or painfully. He clearly had not been hurt and was so close to being dead.

The couple, agape and in disbelief, could only watch as Ifrit looked at his wounds. He opened and closed his hands, then checked one of his legs, which ended with a cloven hoof, to see if they healed properly. Finally, he rubbed the scar from the wounds. He looked visibly upset, at least for the two canine people who had seen canine expressions.

“(Well, at least I’m still alive),” commented Ifrit. “(Never thought I’d leave battle marks all over my body).”

“Herr Schelkz,” said Maximilian, recovering from the surprise. “You are the most impossible hound I have ever met.”

“Oh, you don’t know,” said Ifrit with a scoff. Weakly, he got on his feet, helped by Maximilian. The three slowly walked to Stadelitz, without even knowing why they would even consider going into danger after barely surviving one.

“You know,” said Sahia. “Maybe we shouldn’t go into the battlefield. We’re already beaten up as we are.”

“I agree, my dear,” said Maximilian. “But they need to know that I am not some kind of a snobby recluse. And no, this isn’t about a bruised ego. You already told them who you are, yes?”

“Be careful of what you are doing,” said Ifrit. “This is not your battlefield. Not anymore.”

“I know. I won’t risk myself. I will stay out of your way, herr Schelkz. I need to get the non-fighters out of the battle…and I can see some of them coming up here now.”

Maximilian was right. Several of the civilians had already ran up the hill road trying to get away from the deteriorating situation in Stadelitz. As he and Sahia introduced themselves and guide them up the hill, Ifrit noticed a disturbing sight that made him both angry and shocked.

It was a familiar goat demon he knew as Azgal, grabbing Anubis’s throat while lifting him above his head. Near him, his Barghest friend, Sammael, was twitching beside the demon on his own, black-colored blood. That sight alone caused Ifrit to realize the full extent of the situation without even looking at the devastation the town suffered. He knew that when Azgal was involved, situation turned from bad to worse.

Without hesitating, and enraged by Azgal’s presence, Ifrit disregarded Sahia’s call. He ran as fast as he could, claws and teeth bared, during which his hands, paw, and hoof were lit with fire. Ifrit left fire marks on his chimeric prints, all while running towards Azgal with every intention of killing him.

He let out a loud, enraged roar, while also shouting, “(Azgal!)” Announcing his presence and commencing another fight.