"Death is too good for a wretch like you." You said. "You would soon escape its clutches even if I did kill you. On the other hand, leaving you here is also not an option. You are winded, but not beaten. In five or ten minutes, your strength will begin to return and then you will seek revenge."
"So wht choice does that leave you?" Daemon was still laughing at you, even as a skeleton, though now you noted he was becoming less and less skeletal by the second. New muscles crawled like worms across his bones; fresh, pink flesh was replacing the ashes of his previous skin. It seemed like you had underestimated him. It wasn't five or ten minutes, it was two or three!
"Impasse then." He said. "You can run, and I will kill you later, or you can stay and I will kill you now. Either way your whole fight was in vein. I am a Demon Lord, and I assure you that I earned that title. This is not the worst position I have ever been in."
"If I were a Myotismon or a Seraphimon, you would be right." You said. "My only option would be to destroy you, and hope that by your return I had gathered enough power of my own to put you down again. Unluckily for you, I am neither of those being. I am ShadowSeraphimon, I control the power of light and darkness, and together both will do what one could not."
"Do you think me a fool? Lucemon himself could not permanently destroy me, and his power dwarves your own. Scion of both or not, you cannot harm me."
"But I can bind you."
"No!" He snarled suddenly; his half-formed lips making a skeletal grimace. "I won't allow it!"
"You have no choice in the matter. Your power is used up, your body is healing, but broken. For the next few moments, you have no power Daemon."
You ignored the resulting stream of curses as you took a step back. It was true that you had a spell that could bind him – your Chains of Descent – but that was tied directly to you, so it would drain your power to keep it active, and also, once you became Myotismon again you would not be able to maintain it and he would go free. Happily, not for nothing had you spent your time around Phantomon, and with your own spellcasting abilities you could bind the spell directly into the Dark Area. In this way, it would draw strength from this place and not from you.
It was the best choice that you had; it would not quite be up to the level of the spell which held all the Demon Lords, but then you only needed to contain one and not seven. And because of your connection with Loweemon, the chains would grow stronger as the level of darkness around them increased.
They would gain strength just as fast as Daemon would.
You nodded to yourself, and set about the ritual. For the last time, you dipped into the reserve power of the two spirits who had enabled your transformation. This time, you had a very specific set of goals in mind. A simple casting of the attack would not be enough; you'd have to more in depth.
Lobomon's power would make up the bulk of the chains; their body would be carved from darkness itself. You drew as much strength as you dared from him, feeling his blinking mind connect to yours, and then help with the transfer. You felt the weariness he was feeling, and realised it was not only you this form was taxing.
You bent down and touched the ground at your feet; channelling the power that you had taken from Loweemon. Instantly, a line of darkness spread from the point of contact. It thickened and expanded until it had become a wide circle with Daemon at the centre,
"I won't be chained again!" The demon snarled. His flesh was boiling as he forced the process faster and faster. New bones erupted like shoots from a tree, and flesh clung to them like some strange climbing plant. The rapid change would make his new body brittle, but he obviously considered that the lesser of two evils.
For the next part of your ritual, you needed some power from Lobomon. As before, it was happily given, but he didn't have nearly as much as Loweemon had. Luckily, you didn't need as much. Lobomon's power would be spread more thinly, concentrated on the skin of the chains to ensure that Daemon did not infect them with his darkness. After all, if it was a pure darkness based seal then he would eventually corrupt it. In this manner, the main body of the spell was shielded by a barrier of shining light.
Not unlike your own form, you thought with a certain satisfaction. A shield between darkness and light, allowing both to co-exist.
Weaving light into the spell was not so easy; you had to create ''bubbles'' in the structure, like pockets of air to cushion the light and the dark, or else the whole thing would self destruct. You could allow no direct until the final casting. Carefully, you sowed each of these bubbles indivudally into the circle of darkness, until there had been hundreds formed and ready. They started small, like soap bubbles, but quickly began to grow bigger and bigger. You ensured they stopped once they reached the size of a head.
As you worked, Daemon healed. It was a race against time for both of you. The muscles on his arms and legs healed fasted, because that was where he directed most of his focus. As your bubbles began to form, he gave a cry of victory! His legs were working now, and he was able to stagger to his feet.
He looked like a shambling walking corpse; skin running like wax, fresh flesh pink and gleaming. His skull was still mostly bare, and you could see the long fangs that made up his teeth in greater detail than you had ever wanted to.
A step; doddering and shaky. Like he expected his whole body to give way. When it didn't, he took another. More sure this time. Then a third, faster. He was running. Coming for you before you could finish the spell.
You wouldn't win if it came to blows again; this was your last chance, so you hastened. You only had a second before he reached you, and you poured all your essence into the binding. Willing it to be done in time.
"Now you dieeee!" He howled, one hand extended; the skin pealed from it to make it into a grisly lance. He was coming at you; there was no way or time to dodge. You saw the point aimed right for your face.
Then he stopped; to his own obvious surprise.
"How?" He asked, and then looked to his feet. One of your bubbles had burst, and from it there emerged a chain of shining silver. It was beautiful; as though you had taken the essence of the moon itself and made it into the purest metal ever seen. It looked delicate, but you knew it was anything but. It was light on darkness. Stronger than any metal.
His eyes met yours for the last time. Hate, anger, rage that burned like a fire in his soul.
"I won't forget this." He swore.
"I suspect not, but you won't be able to act on it. I leave you to watch and wither, trapped by your own mistakes." You summoned the last burst of power you would need, and intoned.
"Chains of Descent."
Each of the bubbles popped and from them, there emerged a chain exactly like the first. They shone silver as they wrapped about the demon; binding arms and legs and wings. He snarled and howled, but his body was still weak from its regeneration and he could not break free. Before long, dozens of chains had ensnared him, and dragged him to his knees.
"Rrrgggh." He growled as his muscles bulged; but escape was beyond him and you both knew it. "This won't hold me forever, Seraphimon. In one year or a hundred, I'll break free. When I do, I'll track you down wherever you try to hide!"
He looked like he would have said more, but the chains gagged his mouth and he became a mere humanoid figure of glittering metal.
To say that you felt relief would be an understatement; at the moment you were sure that he was properly sealed, you fell to your knees. Stress from the fight which had building up since the very first exchange of blows in the tower was released at last.
The wound in your chest was too deep for survival; though you had been able to stench the flood of of crimson liquid, you knew that it would not last forever. The logical conclusion was that you would have to release your form; be returning to Myotismon most of the damage would be erased. It was too heavy to be completely negated in this manner, but it'd no longer be fatal at least. It was the only sane choice; but you found that you hesitated, your mind hovering over the bond that existed between you and the spirits.
You didn't want to return to Myotismon. You didn't want to go back to being a demon. Not when you were so much more. What did Myotismon know of the flow of the breeze over a feathered wing? What did he care for justice, save his own? The Cause he fought for was a true one but...
Wouldn't it be better served as an angel rather than a devil? Myotismon was much weaker than you, you thought slowly, wouldn't it be better if he never returned? Just ShadowSeraphimon?
Will it matter if I am dead? You thought, staring down at the wound. It was severe-looking; a massive stain of mixed flesh and armour fragments stained red. It was like a hole had been punched directly into you. Myotismon would be able to survive this, but you would not. Death, or a return to the path of shadow?
There was a crack, and you realised you had clenched your first so tightly that your armoured gauntlet had begun to fracture. The pain of the hand joined the numerous other aching complaints that marred your body.
Would you rather die than be Myotismon? A few moments ago, the question would have seemed supremely foolish, for you were Myotismon in a different form. Yet now you hesitated and wondered if that were true.
Once, Myotismon had not existed and MagnaAngemon had been a living creature; yet even Myotismon acknowledged that that Digimon was long dead. MagnaAngemon would never have done the things Myotismon had, or walk the same dark path. Would it even be right to allow Myotismon to live again? Didn't he too have crimes to his names?
The pain in your body was growing, and you noted with a start that a feeling of sickening weakness was spreading from your heart - -your Core – was this the wound? No... it was something more. Like you were being attacked on a microscopic level, by an alien power.
You hit the ground, and the shock sent waves of pain through your body. What was happening? It wasn't an attack, but your whole being was simply dissolving, being washed away as though it was some curse from Daemon. But it wasn't, you didn't know what this was and as the pain built, you found you didn't care.
A sparkle caught your eye. Free flying data from your armour. Your whole body was beginning to glitter; the destabilisation was literally ripping you apart.
Through a fog of pain, you remembered Loweemon's words.
''But not too alike of course, because if you totally converted then it would be your light vs my darkness and that wouldn't be a happy ending either. Try to strike a balance if you will''
You had failed to strike that balance; the thought was like an arrow to your heart. At the end, you had let the light fill you up, and responded to it to strongly. Now the conflict was being waged between your power and that of Loweemon. He was burning you out without even meaning too.
You could survive by dropping the form of ShadowSeraphimon. Myotismon would have no trouble with this; but you weren't sure if you would survive that. Sure, Myotismon would walk away. What about ShadowSeraphimon? It made a painful underline to the situation you had wondered about only seconds ago.
You almost didn't do it. Almost decided that it would be better to die as an angel than to return to a life of a devil; but then your thoughts turned to those you would leave behind. Jade, and Phantomon who you had healed, and to the humans as well. Ophanimon and even Piedmon. This whole world perched on the brink of war. If you couldn't defend them yourself, perhaps you could send someone who would.
This was the last thought of ShadowSeraphimon as he surrendered to the darkness, and let his power, his form, and his mind be washed away.
You – Myotismon – opened your eyes again, and felt the pain of the battle. It was almost like an echo of the wounds suffered by your mega form, but nevertheless, it was like waking up to a really bad hangover.
"Ugh." You spat on the ground. "I hate the taste of my own blood."
The chains that bound Daemon were still strong, so you were assured that at least he was being held for now. At the same time, you tried not to think of the brutal battle you had just waged. Never in your life had you come so close to death...
Never mind come close to, you had been dead. Daemon had killed you, boiled you alive. The fact that you were able to come back at all was a miracle. A shudder ran through you at the memories of the fight. You supposed you would be having nightmares about Daemon for a long time to come.
"What's it like to be able to wake up in a nice comfortable crypt?" You wondered aloud as you set yourself on your feet. Chest ached, arm felt like it had been twisted badly, but no wounds or blood. It'd do. "Or even a bed. How come every time I evolve I end up waking in some weird twisted hellscape?"
With nothing better to do, you began the track back to the keep. The Dark Area was dangerous for you now; Seraphimon had been like a lord of this place, but Myotismon? There were plenty of bigger fish who would live to make a snack of a weakened ultimate. Luckily, the kind of power that could demolish a mountain would also be capable of chasing those monsters away, at least for a while. You were able to make your way back to the keep without incident.
Inside, however, you were greeted with one last surprise. Phantomon was resting where you had left him, but standing over where the alter had been...
It was big; a crimson dragon which had carefully fished the Soul Gem with one gentle claw. Its wings and profile were so like that of the monsters you'd fought, that you felt a stab of adrenaline, and reached for the remains of your power. It did not attack. Slowly, you noted slight differences. The red on the DexDoruGreymon had been mottled and dark, like a dead creature. This one was vibrant, alive; and it was striped. Waves of black flowed along its red scales. A mane of snowy fur ran down its long neck, and most strikingly of all, it didn't have the same mask that the DexDoruGreymon had worn. Its ears were long, almost feline, and its eyes were green. It did have a jagged horn on its head, like its kin, but even that was a more lively colour. Also, not stained with the blood of old kills. Important distinction that.
It's head snapped around to look at you when it heard you enter the keep. Its ears flattened. You saw that there were the marks of chains across its ankles and neck; and theorised that Daemon had captured it, and used it to create his copies. Then this was not a DexDoruGreymon, but an actual living DoruGreymon.
But where had he found such a rare Digimon? Some people thought that they didn't even exist anymore, and up until a few seconds ago you would have been one of them.
"Come no closer." It hissed; its voice was tightly controlled, but you sensed pain under there. It had been connected to each and every copy – it had felt every blow landed. Every death as though it were its own. "I will defend my partner."
You raised your hands so he could see them. "I don't mean any harm." You said. " I just want to check on my friend." You nodded to Phantomon.
DoruGreymon's nostrils flared, but he nodded slowly. "Fine then. But if you take one step towards me, I will not hesitate to attack."
You walked cautiously to your friend, and checked his lifeforce with your probe. He was healing well. ShadowSeraphimon had known his magic. In a day or so, it'd be like he was never hurt at all.
You sank to the ground with your back to the wall. The weariness nearly overcame you then. It was not like you had just had an epic fight with a legendary demon lord, after all. Maintaining one mega form was energy intensive, but two? And the kind of fight you had gotten into? You were lucky that the Spirits had provided most of the power.
"Can you get me back?" You asked Loweemon; refusing to give in to the Siren call of sleep.
Maybe.... His answer was not encouraging. I haven't had to bust anyone out of the Dark Area before. Given time, I think we should be able to.
"Never mind." You said with a smile. You felt a familiar power tearing at the borders of reality. "I think our ride back has arrived."
Just like before; there was this moment of transition, like you were standing between two places, a part of neither. Then the sun shone down on you through a crack in the roof. An actual, proper sun.
Quickly, you hide from it. A muffled hiss escaping your mouth, but despite this you almost felt happy to see it. There was only one power that could pull you back to the Real World like that...
Striding to the balcony (After summoning your mist, of course.) you found yourself looking out over a devastated courtyard. The walls were cracked and obliterated, and it looked like a giant had rampaged through the area. Everywhere you looked, there were scores of dead DexDoruGreymon. There must have been easily over two hundred! Their bodies were vanishing; winking out one by one.
Below, in the centre of what had been the battlefield, you saw the tangled gnot of defenders. There were less than you had started with, you noted with a sinking feeling. Mummymon, Cerberumon, these you did not care but. But one of your own had paid the price as well... Urocyomon had died on this battlefield, and perhaps others. You spotted ChaosGallantmon, still on the ground.
You sprung from the balcony, and landed gracefully on the ground below. The others turned to see you, all seemed surprised but for the one who had retrieved the tower. Anubismon.
He greeted you with a rare smile, his eyes twinkling.
"I saw the whole battle." He said. "I could not summon you back until he was sealed, else he may have come with you. I did not think you would survive."
"I have survived many things that I shouldn't have." You said. "And if I'm lucky, I'll do it many times more."
"I know." This time his tone was not quite so gentle; there was a subtle sinisterness that warned you more than words ever could. This was the Lord of the Dead after all. He was probably extremely aware just how many times you had cheated him. Hell, he could probably list and name each one.
"In this instance, however." He said. "I am happy that you were able to survive. Sealing a Demon Lord is not a task performed every day. I hope that the price does not prove to be too much."
You wondered what he meant, but outwardly you only said.
"I am sorry about Cerberumon and Mummymon. I assume that they fought well."
"They did." He agreed. "But I do not know why you are sorry. They will be back. They serve me in my capacity as Lord of the Dead, did you think there were not any perks?"
He turned away to let you talk to the rest of the group. Jade was kneeling by a near rock. Her whole side looked like it had been torn to shreds at the claws of one of the beasts, and her face was marked with a slash from ear to mouth. She grinned at you nevertheless, showing no sign of the pain she must have been feeling. "Bastards were a hard fight to the end." She said. "Without you and Phantomon, Anubismon and Gallantmon had to do most of the work."
She lifted a hand carefully to the cut in her face. "Though I didn't exactly skip out either."
You had assured yourself that she was not badly hurt. It would scar if she were still human, but as a LadyDevimon all her wounds would heal eventually. You exchanged some pleasantries with her, and then moved on to the next ally.
ChaosGallantmon was lying on the ground with his head propped up by a large stone. If Jade had been badly injured, he'd been shredded. You saw that not a single inch of his armour seemed to have been spared the probing claws or teeth of the DexDoruGreymon. Judging by the sheer number of bodies around him, he'd killed half the horde on his own.
"I'm alive, if that's what you're wondering." He said. His voice was stiff with pain. "A bit worse for wear, but give me a few days and I'll be healed. Damn human world really seems to want to kill me off." He chuckled.
"Phantomon is still in the tower." You said to everyone. "He was hurt badly. He is healing now, but he's going to sleep for the rest of the day. Someone should fetch him."
"I'll do it." Jade said.
"Before you go, there's something you should know. There was another Digimon in the tower that-"
There was a scream of breaking ice, and then you felt rather than saw a shape flying from the tower at great speed.
"Ah, I believe it has ceased to matter." You continued. "Have fun."
As Jade flew off, you allowed yourself to sink into a sitting position. Tension flowing slowly from your muscles. It wasn't over. It was never over for you. But right here and right now, you felt like you were closer to your goal. You had defeated a Demon Lord, and acquired the Spirit of Light.
What else could a good little vampire ask for on Christmas?
There were things to be done. There always were. You needed to return to the city, to heal up, to resume your search for the Spirits. You needed to deal with Urocyomon's death, and to discover the way forward to your next goal. The Spirits were still out there... you had two, but there were eighteen left. More than enough to keep you busy a while.
So many things to do, but right here and right now, you were able to relax in the company of those you would grudgingly call friends.
For the moment at least, you were content.
End of a Chapter