Hymn of The Stars

The demon's eyes widened in surprise. "Oh? Sorry then," he said, his voice laced with a hint of mock respect. "You must be more than ordinary to know my name. I must apologize." Despite his words, his tone was still laced with arrogance and a hint of superiority.

The bušara ignored the demon's attempt at civility and remained focused on his task. "Save your apologies, Devil's Brood," he said firmly. "I'm not here to exchange pleasantries. I'm here to put an end to your reign of terror."

Thoghzan chuckled at the bušara's words. "You're quite bold, I'll give you that," As Thoghzan chuckled at the bušara's words, his expression was one of amusement and a hint of derision. He seemed almost pleased by the bušara's boldness as if he welcomed the challenge it presented. With a slow and deliberate movement, he reached to his back with his free hand, his fingers curling around something unseen. As he slowly reached behind him with his free hand, blood gushed out from the severe injuries caused by his own spikes. It was as if his body was immune to the sensation altogether.

Surprisingly, Thoghzan did not even flinch or show any sign of pain. He calmly let his blood flow freely until it started to gather and circulate around his hand as if guided by some unseen force until it started to solidify in his grip. Then, with a wide and demonic grin, he slowly pulled out a sword-like object from his back, holding it up for the bušara to see. The blade was made entirely of dried blood, and it seemed to pulse with otherworldly energy. Thoghzan twirled the blood sword in his hand, its razor-sharp edge gleaming in the dim light of the room.

"If you're so at it, at least give me a good fuckin' damn time!" He then pushed the bušara's blade aside without any inconvenience, any hardship, as if the wind was about to blow away a leaf; then he followed up with a lateral slash aiming for the bušara's side with inhuman speed. The mysterious slayer deflected its strike with his sword's scabbard with a similar speed as the blood-blade came.

The bušara didn't flinch, keeping his eyes fixed on Thoghzan and his blood sword. He knew that this would be a difficult fight, but he was determined to kill this demon once and for all.

As Thoghzan's lateral slash was deflected by the bušara's sword scabbard, the demon was momentarily caught off guard by the bušara's strength. The bušara used this opportunity to push Toghzan back with a quick and decisive strike, knocking him off balance.

Thoghzan stumbled backward, his eyes narrowing as he regained his balance. He realized that this bušara was not to be underestimated and that this fight would be much more challenging than he had anticipated.

"I'm not here to entertain you, Thoghzan," the bušara said calmly as he took on a defensive stance with his sword. "I'm here to stop you from causing any more harm to innocent people."

Thoghzan chuckled deeply, his eyes shining with a twisted sense of amusement. "Innocent people?" he sneered, shaking his head in disbelief. "You truly are naive, bušara. There are no such things as innocent people in this world. Only those who survive and those who do not. And I am here to ensure that I am one of the survivors." He paused for a moment, relishing in the fear he could sense emanating from his opponent. With a swift movement, he reached towards his back and drew out another blood sword, the metallic scraping of the blade filling the air.

The bušara's expression hardened, and he tightened his grip on his sword. "Survival does not justify your actions," he said firmly. "You've caused enough pain and suffering. It ends here, Thoghzan."

Thoghzan launched himself forward with incredible speed, closing the distance between himself and the bušara in a blur of motion. With a fierce swing of his blood sword, he aimed a vicious arc toward the bušara's head, intending to end the fight before it had even truly begun. The sound of the blade cutting through the air was like a piercing whistle, cutting through the silence of the room with deadly precision.

The bušara had barely managed to dodge Toghzan's initial strike, the blade whistling past his ear and leaving a trail of sparks in its wake. He countered with a swift jab, aiming for Toghzan's gut, but the blood swordsman parried with ease, the sharp clang of metal on metal echoing through the room.

Demon's grin widened, revealing a row of sharp teeth. "You're quick, bušara," he taunted. "But not quick enough."

He lunged forward again, his movements fluid and graceful despite the weight of his weapons. The bušara backed away, parrying each blow with increasing desperation as Thoghzan pressed his advantage. Sweat dripped down the bušara's face as he fought to keep up, his arms straining under the weight of his sword.

Devil's Brood eyes glinted with amusement as he watched the bušara struggle to keep up with his relentless assault. He was a master of his craft, wielding both blood swords with deadly precision, and he took pleasure in the thrill of battle.

With a swift flick of his wrist, Thoghzan swung his left sword in a low arc, aiming to sweep the bušara off his feet. The bušara jumped over the blade, his heart pounding with fear and adrenaline as he realized just how skilled his opponent truly was. Truly befitting to the "Full-Moon" category, even though he did not even show the tip of the iceberg.

But he was not finished yet. In one fluid motion, he shifted his weight and swung his right sword in a high arc, aiming for the bušara's head. The bušara barely had time to react, raising his sword just in time to block the blow.

The sound of metal on metal-hard blood filled the air as the two combatants clashed, their swords ringing out with each strike. Toghzan's movements were like a dance, his swords moving in perfect harmony.

The Demon let out a laugh as he continued his assault, relishing in the thrill of battle. "Come on, bušara, is that all you've got?" he taunted, his eyes flashing with excitement. "I expected more of a challenge by whom who knows my name! I heard that there would be a great fight to be had on the other side of the Urals." The bušara gritted his teeth, struggling to keep up with Toghzan's relentless attacks. "Please, do not disappoint me!"

The bušara's heart raced as he desperately tried to keep up with Thoghzan's lightning-fast strikes. He knew that he was outmatched, that he was fighting against a master of the sword. But he refused to give up, refused to let this warmonger defeat him. As Toghzan taunted him, the bušara's anger boiled over. He had been trained in the art of combat by his ancestors, by his master and he was not about to let this upstart insult him.

Lukas watched the battle unfold, his heart racing as he struggled to keep up with the lightning-fast movements of Thoghzan and the bušara. He didn't understand why all of this was happening, why this demon was killing everyone in his home village, why he had so special blood, and why this warrior was trying to save him. All he knew was that he was caught in the middle of a war he didn't understand, a war that was tearing apart the fabric of his life.

'What is going on here? Is this all really happening?' Lukas thought to himself, as he watched Toghzan taunt the bušara. 'Why is he doing this? Why is he risking his life to protect me? He's also struggling to keep up against him. I'm a nameless man among the many for him, so why?'

As he watched the bušara struggle to keep up with Thoghzan's relentless attacks, Lukas began to resonate with him. He could feel the bušara's soul, his melody, and he knew that he was fighting for something greater than himself as he heard...

Hymn of The Stars - Fifth Verse: Great Bear

Shouted the warrior, followed by humming from him as he struggled still stopping the incoming blades. The sound was like nothing Lukas had ever heard before - sweet and melodic, yet filled with an energy that seemed to flow through every fiber of his being.

As the warrior continued to hum, Lukas felt something stir within him. It was as if the melody was resonating with his very soul, filling him with a sense of power and purpose that he had never known before.

At that moment, Lukas realized that he was witnessing something truly special. This was not just a battle between two skilled warriors - it was a battle between two forces of nature, each one tapping into something deep and primal within themselves. The humming continued, rising and falling in intensity as the warrior poured his heart and soul into the song.

As the humming reached its crescendo, the bušara's movements became more fluid, his strikes more powerful. He felt a newfound strength coursing through his body as if he had tapped into a well of energy that he had never known existed. He was no longer simply fighting for survival, he was fighting for a purpose, for something greater than himself.

With a fierce growl, the bušara charged toward the demon, his sword raised high. As he closed the distance between them, he began to invoke the power of the Great Bear constellation in his sword technique. He mimicked the movement of a bear's claws, slashing and thrusting with ferocity yet still remaining elegant, FLAMBOYANT that left Thoghzan reeling, leading the fight finally outside the crumbling house.

Lukas winced as he tried to move his broken arms, feeling the sharp pain shoot up through his limbs. Gritting his teeth, he forced himself to focus on the task at hand. He wanted to see, the warrior win. No, he will see the nameless warrior win.

With great effort, he managed to prop himself up onto his elbows and then onto his hands, each movement sending waves of pain through his body.

As he looked up, his eyes scanned the area, trying to locate the two figures who had rushed out. His vision was blurry, and he struggled to keep his balance as he swayed from side to side. But he refused to give up.

And so, with a deep breath, he slowly but surely followed their trail with his eyes, tracking their every move as they continued their duel. Every muscle in his body ached, and his broken arms throbbed with pain, but he refused to let that stop him from watching them as he slowly sat down at the door.

Thoghzan was caught off guard by the sudden change in the bušara's fighting style. He had never seen anything like it before, and for a moment, he was unsure how to counter it. But his instincts kicked in, and he began to parry the bušara's attacks with a renewed vigor.

The two warriors clashed once again, their swords ringing out as they fought with all their might. The bušara's movements were wild and untamed, but they were also powerful and precise.

As the bušara's attacks grew more frenzied, he saw an opening in Thoghzan's defense and struck with all his might. His sword sliced through the air, aimed directly at the demon's chest. But just as the blade was about to make contact, Thoghzan summoned the power of his Blood Demon Art, and a thick, red mist began to emanate where spikes were pressed into him. The mist coalesced around the devil's brood, forming a thick armor of blood that nullified the bušara's attack.

The bušara stumbled backward, losing momentum to this impenetrable armor that made his blade slightly chip off.

Thoghzan's lips curled into a mocking grin as he gazed at the bušara with a glint in his eyes, reveling in the thrill of battle. The blood armor that encased him slowly dissolved a testament to the ferocity of the fight that had just taken place.

"Oh, how impressive," he sneered. "You managed to catch me off guard for a moment. But let's not get carried away, shall we? It takes more than a lucky strike to take me down. Let's see if you're capable of holding your own when I bring some more power to bear. Don't disappoint me now, I'd hate to think I overestimated you." With that, he raised his swords, the tips gleaming menacingly in the light. And with a blink of an eye, he was already gone.

The warrior's eyes darted around the battlefield, scanning the chaos for any sign of the demon he had been fighting. He knew he couldn't afford to let his guard down, not even for a moment. But just as he thought he was safe, a searing pain shot through his left upper arm, causing him to cry out in agony.

Looking down, he saw that his arm had been severed from his body and was now flying through the air, illuminated by the flickering flames of the village that surrounded them. The sight was gruesome, yet the warrior couldn't look away. His arm, which had been so strong and steady only moments before, was now nothing more than a mangled mess of flesh and bone as it hit the ground meters away from him.

The warrior's vision blurred as waves of pain washed over him. He stumbled backward, clutching at the stump where his arm had been only moments before, dropping his sword in the process. The wound was ragged and jagged, exposing the raw flesh beneath. Red blood oozed from it, staining the ground beneath him.

He could feel his strength ebbing away with each passing moment, his body going into shock. The pain was unbearable, a constant reminder of the fight that had brought him to this moment. But even in the midst of his agony, the warrior refused to give up.

Thoghzan appeared before the wounded warrior, his face contorted with disappointment as he looked down at him with contempt. "Is this all you have to offer?" he spat, shaking his head in disgust. Thoghzan's eyes bore down on the warrior, disappointment etched deep within them. He had barely even used half of his power, yet this warrior was already on the brink of defeat.

The warrior tried to muster a response, tried to fight back against the demon that towered above him. But his words were lost in a sea of pain, his body weakened by the loss of blood and the shock of his wound. His uniform was stained with the blood that flowed freely from his wound, his fate hanging in the balance.

"You almost made me hope for a fierce battle," he said, his voice tinged with a hint of irritation. He had expected more from someone who was talking big, but instead, he had been met with nothing but disappointment. "Why didn't you aim at my tattoos? You, bušaras should know one of our weaknesses is that. That's the point where our bodies remain human and are still vulnerable to any kind of blade, unlike our skin. So why?"

The bušara gritted his teeth as he struggled to stand. He knelt, putting his hand into his coat and then taking it out and placing it on his cut hand if the taken-out item resembled a fiola, containing some kind of blood-binder fluid. Without making any loud sounds, he began to tap it in a rhythmical matter. "I didn't aim for your tattoos because I knew you would protect them with your life," he replied, his voice strained. "It would've been useless to try. And even if I had managed to strike you there, I doubt it would've made much of a difference."

Thoghzan chuckled at the bušara's words. "Ah, you give me too much credit. But you are correct in one thing - I would protect my tattoos with my life. They are the source of my power, the very essence of who I am." The demon raised his sword once again, ready to deliver the final blow. "Last words, bušara?"

As Thoghzan prepared to strike, Lukas watched in disbelief. He had witnessed the bušara's skill firsthand and had believed he would be able to defeat Devil's brood, but now he saw that he had been sorely mistaken. His broken arms throbbed with pain as he struggled to stand up, his mind racing as he tried to come up with a plan to save him.

"Yes," The fearless warrior stated calmly. With a sudden surge of energy, he yelled with his lungs the following words.

"HYMN OF THE STARS - THIRD VERSE: SHOOTING STAR!"

"Wha-?" Thoghzan was about to strike, his swords poised to deliver the final blow to the wounded bušara when he was caught off guard. The item that appeared to be a fiola was, in fact, a syringe filled with a deadly mixture of wisteria and alcohol, a pure poison for demons of any kind. The bušara had used a technique that had increased his arm movement by fifty times, allowing him to match the demon's movements. Despite Thoghzan's attempts to evade the attack, the syringe had struck him in the chest, piercing his skin with a sickening squelch.

Thoghzan's eyes widened in shock as the poison began to spread throughout his body, causing him to gasp in pain. In a desperate attempt to save himself from defeat, he quickly beheaded himself with his blood sword. Lukas watched as the demon's body crumpled to the ground, defeated and lifeless. The bušara had poured all of his strength and energy into the final, decisive attack, pushing himself beyond his limits. But the victory had come at a great cost, leaving him wracked with pain and fatigue.

Thoghzan's head spat out his words with a venomous hatred, his eyes flashing with a sickly yellow glow. "You... FUCKIN' WORM!" he snarled, his voice laced with venom and fury. "Was this your strategy the whole fucking time? To use such a cowardly tactic against me? AGAINST ME? You will pay for this, mark my words! I let my guard down, that's all. I won't make that mistake again..." He paused for a second as he looked at the masked warrior with utter hatred.

"I WON'T MAKE THE SAME MISTAKE AGAIN! YOU COWARD, BASTARD! I WILL MAKE YOU EAT YOUR GUTS, THEN SPLIT YOUR HEAD IN TWO!" Thoghzan's head stated as he used his Blood Demon art to move his head away from the warrior as he feared he had more tricks in his sleeve like that. Lukas gasped at the absurd sight. How was this even possible?

"How ironic, you say I'm a coward when you try to slither away from a man who is almost on the verge of death?" asked the bušara in a low and painful manner. The demon only answered with a growl, as he wanted to prove himself, but what if it was a trap as before? He did not want to risk it, so he called it a day.

"I will come back for you, coward, and for you too, marechi! You will not escape my wrath... bušara." Then he quickly disappeared, using his blood-manipulation ability to make spider legs out from his neck and crawl away as fast as he could.

The devil's brood final words echoed in the silence of the burning village that followed the end of the battle, sending a shiver down Lukas' spine. The bušara knew that the threat was far from over, that Thoghzan's promise to return was more than just an idle threat. He heard as the demon's head continued to growl and snarl, even in the distance a testament to his fierce determination and unyielding will.