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I was lying on the ground, writhing in the most excruciating pain I could ever imagine. "Stupid boy." Nefilhame said. "Hm? A piece of my spear's head seems to have broken off inside you. Heh heh heh." I continued trying to get my chest plate off, and I eventually was able to rip it off. Wait... How did I have the strength to tear through mythril? The pain was beginning to recede, and I looked at my hands, which were now claws. My chest was covered in matted, bloody fur. Impossibly, I had transformed again. And strangely, I'm aware of my actions; all of my transformations until now were like sleepwalking. But it doesn't matter. I have to fight!

I got up from the ground, leaving my broken, twisted armor. Nefilhame had a look of pure shock. I charged at him and struck. He blocked it, but the sheer force threw him back. He shot fire at me, but I dodged it and dashed behind him. He turned and swung his spear, but I caught it in my hand. It didn't burn me though, and I saw why: my claws were wreathed in flame. That shard of his spear must have transferred some of its infernal power to me.

My hands and feet ablaze, I attacked relentlessly. He looked afraid as he barely dodged and missed with counterattacks. I jumped and gave him a flaming roundhouse kick to the face. With a followup claw and kick, I knocked away his spear and sent him reeling back. He tried to pick up his spear, but I unleashed a combined bolt of fire and lightning at him, knocking him back again. As he lay nearly defenseless, I kicked up his spear and as I grabbed it, it roared to life with gold and crimson flames. "I can smell yourr fearr. You SHOULD be afrraid. Now, with yourr own weapon of warr, I cast yourr wrretched soul back to Hell!" I shouted, growling slightly. I impaled him and pinned him to the ground. "AGH! I was defeated... by a human? Well fought... Claive Ilusta." He said with his dying breath.


[Continued in Chapter 14-2]