You've enchanted me (Gloxinia X reader)

Chapter 34

Sizzle.

Slice.

Thud.

A tall robust man, larger than any giant, covered in greyish armour, stood in front of a crater, an abyss-like hole. Still like a statue, a guard, defending it. His face was overshadowed by a horned helmet, and a long tattooed cape cascaded down his back.

Cacophonous sounds echoed throughout the heated and freezing surroundings, red miasma concealing the approaching threat.

Yet the Demon King knew who it was.

The human who calls themselves Judicator is rapidly heading in his direction. Intentionally making resonating and violent sounds - some sort of attempt to unnerve him.

Laughable.

That's what he'd usually think.

However, the aura and pressure from that human made him think otherwise. Extending so far that the Demon King could feel it, even plaguing him with an unfamiliar sense of discomfort, which increased further as seconds passed, and the human drew closer.

This couldn't possibly be a human. Not even the Supreme Deity was capable of forcing such stiffness and malaise within him.

Was this human some sort of unknown vessel of Chaos?

"Found you."

The Demon King's attention immediately snaps in the direction of the voice, that was uttered with an eery and mocking tone.

A small figure emerged from the curtains of red smoke, their body glistening in a soft ethereal glow. One may mistake them for someone of the Goddess race, but their dull yet angered eyes, furrowed with diabolical intensity, certainly contradicted that image.

A dense power was concentrated in one of their eyes, brimming with colour like desired and rare jewels. Could that be the source?

"It appears that Chandler and Cusack were unable to eliminate you." The Demon King said seriously, looking down at the approaching human.

"They're both dead. And you'll follow." The human's stated indifferently, and the Demon King was astounded and irritated by their arrogance.

Nevertheless, he ought not to be careless. This person may be a human, but they're still a threat, the most dangerous one.

They mustn't be allowed to live.

†¡!«·-.★.-·»!¡†

.

Dark.
.

A tinge of light.
.

Flickering white.

Fluttering eyes, waking up.

A blurry pink welcomed Drole's vision, as he stared into space, trying to focus his sight. Sharp needles punctured his mind, a headache developing.

What had happened?

Ah, right. He died.

At least he managed to kill Chandler though.

Now, where was he? Is this an afterlife?

That couldn't be.

Not when that colour of pink was becoming clearer to his eyes, forming the shape of long hair, a fuzzy silhouette standing in front of him.

It was similar to Melascula.

And as his vision cleared further, Drole finally recognised the figure. Her sleeveless white leotard, her pink stockings and the bow on her choker. The pink hair, and the cloak of darkness around her body.

Yep. It was definitely Melascula.

That's proof he's not exactly dead. The demon must've brought him back.

But why?

Drole recalled the memory of Melascula at the tavern, moments before he and Gloxinia fought Chandler. She spoke with them pretty casually then, and even mentioned (Y/n).

So, does that mean she doesn't mind that he's a traitor? Or?

Pain in his mind resounded, his headache making the situation worse. Maybe he shouldn't think so much right now.

"Has your conciousness finally cleared?" Melascula's voice echoed through the cavern the two were in, bouncing off the ragged walls.

"You should be grateful. The only reason I saved you is because you're close with (Y/n)." She commented in a slightly uncaring and annoyed tone.

Drole blinked. "(Y/n)?"

He was aware that Melascula met (Y/n) when they saved Meliodas. They defeated the demon at the time, humiliating her in the process. But, by Melascula's words, it doesn't seem like the two are on bad terms.

Slowly sitting up, his body somewhat haggard, Drole winced when he accidentally hit his head on the roof of the cavern. He rubbed the soreness with his hand fruitlessly, before focusing back on Melascula.

"Are you on good terms with (Y/n)? How come?" He questioned.

Melascula paused, wondering if she should answer the giant. "...They offered me belonging."

'Belonging? She literally has belonging in the 10 Commandments.' Drole thought, slightly confused.

"What about the 10 Commandments?"

"I don't have my Commandment of Faith. I'm not part of it any more." Melascula replied nonchalantly, like it was no big deal.

With widened eyes, Drole stared at Melascula. When did she lose her Commandment? How?

Then the image of (Y/n) appeared in his mind, a mischievous and free spirited smirk on their face.

'You really do whatever you want, don't you?' He internally deadpanned.

More baffling, it seems like they gained a follower in the process.

-:*"_+.-.+_"*:-

Tumble.

Clash.

Thuds and smashes echoed outwards, thundering and strident. Rocks and dust were flung with each heavy attack of the Demon King, his mammoth broadsword slicing through the hard earth relentlessly.

Yet this human was untouched.

They weren't guarding against the attacks - no shield around them. Nor where they repelling the attacks.

Suddenly, the Demon King ceased his attacks upon a realisation.

'They're using 'The Ruler'.'

How was that possible? That explains why they're unfettered, and only seem to be stronger.

Then, his worry and panic dissipated. This power was still his, even if this human could somehow use it. It was he that understood it the most. Power Transference should weaken them, when it's inverted by The Ruler.

Concentrating it on that colourful eye of theirs might do the trick.

And when he did, the human suddenly jolted, pausing in their tracks, their head tilting downwards. But, a second after, the Demon King felt a sharp pain erupt through his body, travelling like electricity throughout the nerves of his body, burning him, weakening him, lacerating him.

Amidst his pain, the Demon King noticed the human raise their head, proceeding to continue their slow steps towards him.

"Congratulations. You succeeded in..."

Their left eye glowed brighter, colours emerging and parting. Their eyes were hardened, but also slightly widened in a crazed glare.

"...pissing me the fuck off."