The Dragon-Fiend dug into O Telefteos's skin with his fangs, slowly going deeper and deeper into his flesh, blood rising and overflowing to the top of his skin, and dripping down on the grown, the sound was, however, overshadowed by the wind that blowed the flames, those same flames crackling with crisp pops that further defened the sound of blood coming from O Telefteos's neck, the burning sharp pain getting ten times more intense by the nanosecond.
Alya and Noota were stunned, shocked to their very core, their eyes locked onto the sight in, not horror, not awe, but... confusion... for this sight was so horrid, so hellish, so utterly loathsome, that they couldn't even fathom it with their own eyes. Nothing else mattered, no one else mattered, but this one moment.
The Dragon-Fiend, however, was in a state of pure ruthlessness, its vile attitude radiating in its aura...
O Telefteos himself, however, was not paying attention to the pain, the anguish, the despair, but simply... an accessory.
His long red scarf, being slowly engulfed by the flames. Very slowly, but very surely... It's as if the flames themselves were taunting him, bullying him, like a grade-school kid ripping up the drawing you worked so hard on... and all O Telefteos felt in that moment... was...
"Alright, I got it! Promise you won't lose it, okay?"
RAGE!
He used every bit of strength he had, ignoring the excruciating pain that would make a normal person shut down. Tensing his muscles, collecting what little willpower he had. The battle with the despair around him was hard-fought, but he would not waver in the face of such things. No obstacle, no adversary, nothing would stop him in this moment.
"I must..." He muttered, slowly lifting his arms; his body aches; it hurts; the pain is unbearable. But giving up is not an option; he must prevail.
No amount of anguish will stop him in this sovereign moment, for he cast away his morals, his mind, his rational thought; all he knew was that the Fiend before him was his enemy, and he must, "keep my promise..."
He dug his nails into the Dragon-Fiend, using all his might to get a good grip on it, his nails digging into its scorching skin...
It was in this moment... that O Telefteos' heart knew true sin... As he unleashed his barbarian instinct...
"This scarf is really special to me. I've had it for years, man; it was always too big for me, and it still is. Hehe, it seems it's also too big for you. But you deserve it; I give it to you as a sign of our friendship!"
"TO HIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIMMMMMMMMM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
The resulting explosion draped in crimson was unlike any seen before. A large cataclysm of rage that shook Aspen to its very core. A beam of red light that shot up beyond what even spacetime could muster. The gust of wind from this event was unlike any other, nearly shooting Alya and Noota back miles. If Noota wasn't running at lightning speed to counteract the wind while holding Alya, they would've been blown away faster than they could subconsciously think.
Noota, while running, was shocked, in pure awe at the situation unfolding before it.
"Noot... noot..."
Translation = "What... is this...?"
Alya, on the other hand, was on high alert, trying to make sense of the situation. But she couldn't do such a thing, for this was unlike anything she had ever witnessed in her life. She felt a mix of emotions that she couldn't describe if she were asked, and I myself could not do such a thing either. Her mind was racing so much that her head started to ache horribly. The culmination of all these factors made her reaction unreadable, like it was an amalgam of things that couldn't be identified, while also making the whole incomprehensible.
The Dragon-Fiend jumped back immediately, still maintaining its solemn demeanor, however. Simply standing there, trying to figure out...
"What power could this be?"
It felt no fear nor paranoia. Simply confusion, that same confusion forcing it to try to understand the situation.
O Telefteos howled in anger. No, not anger, not even wrath, but some other inexplicable emotion unknown to you mortals. There is truly no simple way to put it; the only word I can use, the only description that would suffice for this emotion, this harbinger of will, this feeling...
Oblivion!
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!" O Telefteos continued to scream, to screech. To envelop himself in his emotion, as his power skyrocketed beyond measure.
The Dragon-Fiend's face morphed into one of disgust, "Stop screaming, you imbecile! I hate when my food squirms from me!" It said, as it started to defy the gust of wind, slowly walking over to O Telefteos, clenching its fists, its entire body starting to heat up into scorching red-orange flames. Its hair stuck up and flowed like fire, its eyes losing all detail as they became pure white. No, not white, but light, light only held by that of a star. Its entire body, in fact, lost all its texture and became that of a star. But the light did not affect Noota in the slightest. And neither did it affect Alya... I never said she was human after all.
It got into a battle stance, ready to dominate O Telefteos once more, and once it did, it would devour him. For it is terribly hungry, and now furious.
"I had almost gotten what I wanted... I almost got my food and yet... YOUR DISGUSTING WAYS STOLE THAT WAY FROM ME! YOU WILL PAY WITH YOUR LIFE, YOU WOR-" But the Fiend was cut off from its speech, as a fist with knuckles harder than steel dug into its face.
"SHUT UP!!!!" O Telefteos yelled, his fist digging deeper into the its visage, and with one release... It shot the Dragon-Fiend all the way into the air, making it soar past the sky, soar past gravity, soar past space, faster than it could react.
Then... a collision.
In three milliseconds exactly, the Dragon-Fiend was flung to the moon by O Telefteos' fist. As he collided with the moon, he released his head, causing an explosion bigger than that of a hydrogen bomb.
O Telefteos dashed for his scarf; it wasn't burned, at least not so much that it lost its signature look. O Telefteos wrapped it around his neck, over his mouth.
"I'm sick of this bullshit." O Telefteos grumbled. His hair was a deep crimson; so were his nails and even his silver eye, and the X on his other eye went from white to black. A black goat horn that faded to scarlet came from his head. His teeth were sharp, sharper than those of a conodont. Black tattoos covered his body, from his nails to his hair to his arms, but not his face, however. All these things gave him a look that resembled... a demon.
That's what they say Fiends are at the end of the day: demons, Devils, Imps, adversaries to all they come across. They are villains to others, to each other, and even to themselves. They know this very well, and the strongest among them embrace it; when they do, they can unleash their power. In O Telefteos' desperate attempt to save his scarf, he discarded parts of his humanity. Some would say that's beneficial for the situation; others would say that is the worst mistake he's ever committed.
His recent disregard shows in his next action, as he then bent, taking all of the strength his legs had to offer, and shot up into the air as fast as light. Landing on the moon, which was now scorching due to the explosion, right in front of the Dragon-Fiend.
The Fiend was in bad condition, lava, its own kind of blood, coming from its many wounds as a result of the collision and explosion. This shouldn't have hurt him as badly as it did; whatever punch O Telefteos threw, it must have breached all its defenses, its body relaxing completely, and in that split second it was able to be hurt. It was now kneeling on the ground, holding its left arm with its right. It was not just angered, but furious; it wasn't even worth eating O Telefteos anymore; now it would ravage and rip him to shreds; it would kill him, then bring him back just to kill him again. And O Telefteos felt the exact same.
It coughed up lava as it held its arm, "What the hell are you?! Another Fiend?! Or something else?!" It yelled at O Telefteos to respond, "ANSWER ME-" It was cut off once more by a kick in the stomach, right from O Telefteos, giving pain akin to that of being shot.
"Don't worry about that and just die, bitch," O Telefteos exclaimed as he threw a hard right hook at the Fiend's jaw, making it spew more lava. He threw a left hook, then another right, then a knee to the chest, then an uppercut. His movements were faster than the eye could see, and he didn't stop there... but he had no choice.
The Dragon-Fiend grabbed his fist as he was about to throw a jab; it had seized all attempts at answers, accepting the fact that nothing else mattered in this moment. All that mattered was killing the Fiend before him, O Telefteos Elpis!