The extra is a fox eyed jester-Chapter 66: Dreamscape II

"A-Akathartos?" Azazel asked with widened eyes the size of ping pong balls.

Akathartos scowled.

"What are you doing here?"

"That’s my line, bastard." Azazel retorted with a glare." Why are you wearing my face, you stupid freeloader."

Akathartos didn’t respond, instead he narrowed his gaze, letting the silence stretch for a second.

"Freeloader?"

Azazel felt his rage boil over.

Seeing the blade wear his face and twist it into those infuriating expressions made his stomach turn.

"Pray tell, am I wrong?"

"I helped you assimilate with the raven’s will."

"Because you’re still planning to take my body."

Akathartos tilted his head slightly letting the curtain of black hair fall to the side.

"How did you get in here?" the tainted weapon asked once again with a cold tone.

Azazel took a step back against his will.

The atmosphere dropped a few degrees and a sickening sensation crawled up his spine.

"I don’t know, I went to bed and I found myself here."

The blade hummed.

"I see..."

"You see what?"

"The Raven brought you here."

"Muninn?"

"Yes."

"Where am I?" Azazel decided to ask after a brief moment of silence.

"Your soul space or rather a part of it." Akathartos replied, staring down at Azazel from the guard of the obsidian longsword.

Azazel on the other hand noticed the mocking gaze of the blade but decided not to say anything, he was too tired mentally to indulge the blade’s whims.

"Say, where’s the raven."

"In the forest." came Akathartos reply.

The silence that followed was unnerving, Azazel didn’t utter a single word and Akathartos merely watched the redhead standing still with heavy thoughts.

Azazel walked towards the tainted blade, he hesitated for a bit before settling down beside the obsidian longsword.

His thoughts drifted towards everything he had done so far since he was reborn.

The main story hadn’t begun but he had managed to escape potential deaths, acquired a tainted version of one of the strongest gods relics in existence, heck he had even made a pact with a demoness, not just any but the third daughter of Lilith.

"Akathartos..." he called.

The tainted blade didn’t reply but Azazel continued anyway.

"Why do you keep trying to take my body, I know it’s your nature as a corrupted blade but come on, you don’t seem to have lost yourself completely."

The blade didn’t respond, not completely. Instead a shadow fell right in front of Azazel and the atmosphere grew more oppressive.

Azazel tilted his head enough to meet the gaze of the tainted blade and what he saw was madness.

In its rawest form.

The blade wasn’t suppressing it anymore.

A shudder coursed through Azazel’s body, his fingers trembled slightly causing him to swallow deeply.

"You think I’m sane?" The blade asked with a growl. "Then you’re blind."

It paused.

"Do you know why I bonded with you? It’s not just because your body holds potential, it’s because of your madness. I saw the same madness, the type that threatened to burn anything in the way of achieving your goal. You asked why I keep trying to take your body? It’s because you’re weak, because you can’t harness your madness as a weapon. It’s because you’re not worthy of wielding me."

Azazel’s eyes shook slightly, he knew the blade was right, he had felt it back then during his trial.

"Why is every one of you pretentious fucks deciding my worth? If I’m not worthy then why did you choose me? To steal my body? Listen up and listen well, you will never have what you want, you’re the failure of a forgotten world, no... screw that, you’re useless, stop covering that up with your haughty attitude. So long as my soul remains, you will never have my body, if I die... you’re coming with me bastard, I’ll make sure of it."

The both of them stood against each other, Akathartos observed Azazel with cold expressionless eyes while the latter glared at him with barely restrained fury.

The silence stretched between them, then Akathartos chuckled darkly.

"Well this is fine as well... I hate bluffs so I’ll put you in your place."

Azazel raised his brows.

"My place? This is my soul you—"

He couldn’t even finish the words as the blade behind him let out a cold metallic whine.

Azazel turned around with slightly parted lips.

The colossal blade trembled then right in front of Azazel’s eyes it disappeared.

Akathartos lifted the obsidian sword as if it were a natural extension of his body.

"Come..." he said.

Azazel took a step back.

"W-W-What... are you d-doing."

Akathartos tilted his head.

"I’m teaching you a lesson, mortal. You’ve forgotten yourself."

"N-No, let’s talk reasonably like normal people."

"I’m a divine sword, expecting normalcy from me is utterly stupid."

"At least put the blade down, let’s throw hands."

Akathartos smiled.

"No!"

Then he moved.

"Ah, for Loki’s sake, stoppppp!" Azazel yelled, narrowly avoiding the cold steel which whooshed past his head with a zing.

But Akathartos followed up with a devastating kick to his ribs.

Azazel felt the world go white.

Then he felt a dull thud.

And another.

’H-How?’

Akathartos was a blade for gods sake, a divine one, once upon a time but a blade nevertheless.

How could that useless piece of junk move his legs better than an experienced martial artist.

Azazel reached for his card.

He slid his fingers across it lightly then tossed the card in the air but Akathartos was faster, he swung his blade.

A thin line of aura followed the swing of his blade.

It tore Azazel’s card in an instant causing the redhead trickster to suffer a backlash.

Azazel coughed.

A viscous crimson liquid traced a line across his face from his eyes.

Then came the mocking tone of the tainted weapon.

"Pathetic," he said. "You keep relying on petty tricks to aid you in battle, you’re not even a circle user, you haven’t unlocked your regalia, you haven’t ascended yet so your class and its abilities are useless. You—a chaos bringer with the will of a mythical serpent and a legendary Raven with the potential to reach a divine grade—is hiding behind party tricks and you want to defy fate? When you can’t use what you have properly? What a joke."

His voice grew cold.

"Use your beast will or you’ll die."