Mike's chest heaved as the taste of rotted demon flesh slid down his throat. He wanted to vomit. But the strength that surged into his limbs burned away the revulsion.
Something more was changing and his body was growing. Bones shifted. His back arched violently as searing pain ripped through his ribs. Scales erupted from his flesh. Claws split from his fingertips. His legs snapped, bent, reshaped. A tail unfurled behind him, slamming against the wall with a bone-cracking thud. Sound distorted as his mind was ringing and Mike felt the euphoric satisfaction of this familiar feeling.
The walls seemed closer. The stairwell was now too small. He threw his head back and roared as the walls cracked and broke around him. Mike had finally recaptured the feeling he'd missed from his time in the trial. He felt stronger. He had fully transformed. He was larger than before. A compact twelve foot tall, grounded version of the apex predator he had become in his trial. His neck was thicker, not serpentine. His wings curled tightly against his sides, not yet stretched for flight. Horns spiraled backward like dark obsidian. His muscles rippled with new power. He was no longer pretending to be something in between. Bahamut's blood now growing more powerful in his body.
Outside, the demons had begun scaling the outer walls of the building. Others clustered around the stairwell where their fellow soldiers had been massacred, layer upon layer of broken corpses, blood covering surfaces like a dark layer of paint down the concrete steps. They heard the sound before they saw him. The sound of shattered glass. Of steel twisting under force. The echo of claws carving through the concrete walls. The upper floors of the building exploded outward.
Concrete and glass smashed into the surrounding soldiers. The demons climbing the walls were hurled like cannonballs, their bodies crushing those below on impact.
Mike burst from the building's ruined side.
Wings half-spread, body silhouetted in smoke and sprinkler haze. His tail snapped with raw power. His claws gleamed like obsidian in the early morning light.
The archers fired.
Useless.
Arrows shattered harmlessly against his scales.
He leapt high, landing at the center of a phalanx.
Armored demons flew like rag dolls. Claws tore through breastplates. Teeth punctured skulls. A single hindleg kick sent a line of enemies crumbling like dominos.
Mike fought like he had in the trial: relentless, fluid, brutal.
He raised his head and roared at incoming troops, willing his devastating breath to return but there was no fire. No red-black flame. Only tooth and claw. Muscle and rage.
Atop his burning steed, Bune observed silently.
All three heads watched.
The eagle grinned. The dog snarled. The man merely nodded.
"So he's not as weak now," the middle head murmured. "He's awakened more of that dreadful dragon's power."
Bune arrogantly did not attack. Not yet.
This change was worth watching.
Mike tore through the next wave. His breath came ragged but steady. Trial memories guided him like instincts, only this time, he held the reins. Every movement was deliberate. Controlled. His will shaped by endless slaughter.
But the horned soldiers were endless.
Spears opened shallow wounds across his flank. A mace dented bone beneath his scales. Blood ran thick, black-red and steaming.
He roared again, more from frustration than pain. The building burned behind him. He couldn't hold this ground.
His gaze locked onto Bune, still unmoved.
Mike crouched low.
Claws dug into the ground. He coiled and launched himself at the Duke of Hell.
Only then did Bune react.
With a flick of the wrist, he raised his massive black greatsword etched with infernal glyphs.
Clang!
Mike's claws met the blade midair. Sparks screamed from the impact. The smoldering horse was forced backward.
Mike snarled, but Bune was stronger than he looked.
With brutal grace, Bune wrenched Mike sideways and flung him into a nearby building. Chunks of concrete and steel clattered across the street. Mike tumbled, wings wrapping protectively around him.
He landed hard, but alive.
He now felt his progress in strength. Closer than ever to killing Bune.
He kept tearing chunks from demons and swallowing them, no longer burdened by the taste.
His wounds healed.
Power surged. Every dozen bites made him stronger.
From the distance came another roar, Hamza. A flash of flame bloomed on the horizon, then vanished.
"Get Hunter!" Mike roared.
He could feel Bahamut watching.
"I told you, pathetic fool. Struggling against weak bats for too long. Kill them all. Do not stop until the three-headed bat is devoured."
Mike tore into more demons, consuming them as fast as he felled them. Adrenaline surged. His body regenerated. The primal rhythm of kill–eat–grow returned.
Bune sensed it. He dismounted.
The Duke charged with terrifying speed, greatsword raised.
Mike saw the blur of three heads coming at him and jumped backward. The blade sheared a piece of horn from his skull. A thin cut opened on his neck.
He kept dodging the massive swings, taking only glancing blows.
On the fifth swing, Mike pivoted.
His tail smashed toward Bune.
The Duke blocked with the flat of the blade but couldn't stop the clawed hand that ripped the eagle head from his shoulder.
Mike roared.
He tossed the severed head into his mouth crunching it apart as the swallowed the Great Duke's flesh.
A rush of power struck him like lightning.
His mind swam with energy.
His eyes burned red. He launched a new assault, faster, stronger.
Bune staggered under the force.
"He shouldn't be able to gain strength this quickly… He's a greater threat than Hecate estimated…"
Before he could move, Mike's scaled fist crashed into his shoulder, sending him flying into a building.
The greatsword clattered to the asphalt.
Mike advanced.
He picked up the giant blade. He stepped forward and hurled it like a spear.
The sound cracked in the air with a shockwave.
Bune looked up but it was too late. The blade impaled him.
BOOM.
His body exploded, torn in multiple pieces. An upper torso and half an arm lay twitching on the pavement as the black dragon approached.
"Impossible! No chosen should be able to kill me! I am a true demon of hell! I've lived for thousands of years!"
Mike stood over him.
Eyes glowing red.
A clawed hand reached down.
"Do not touch me! Get away!"
Mike lifted the twitching torso by the human face.
Bune screamed.
Mike grinned.
He made eye contact and bit off the dog head.
"No! Stop!" Bune screamed.
"I will kill all of you," Mike growled as he brought the final screaming head toward his maw filled with razor sharp teeth. A look of terror on the Great Dukes face as it approached.
Bune's scream disappeared as Mike crunched the last head in his jaws.
Mike could hear the laughs of amusement from Bahamut in his mind as he consumed the Duke.
The demon soldiers froze, stunned, as they watched their commander devoured.
Only the crunching of bones remained.