Wall of Muscle

Fate had spaced out the Imprints while keeping some overlap between them.

This way, they'd cover more area while still compounding on each other.

He used his first, smaller Imprint as the center, creating the other nine like the petals of a flower, each one's edges lapping against the center and the two adjacent Imprints, so all were connected.

This work of his extended for five feet in each direction from the center, so when accounting for the first Imprint was around ten and a half feet wide.

He thanked his lucky stars that the aesh was still within that range when he shot out of the ground, though he still held his breath. Due to the design, the center would be the weakest point after the Imprint did its job, and the aesh was closer to the edge now.

He landed a short distance away in a crouch, behind the aesh, and pulled his sword out. He started cutting down imps as he waited for the Imprints to take effect.

The ground quaked, a slight vibration, when the Imprints fulfilled their purpose.

The concrete above was still intact, well within Fate's expectations. Now came the hard part.

With a yell, he dashed toward the aesh, who had just finished cutting down a bow-wielding Guard.

He phased through the imps in his way, uncaring that he gave them some of his Mana in the process, and made it to the clearing the aesh stood in.

They couldn't take the Mana he was made up of, only a small amount of the Mana that he used to power his Skill.

The Mana he was made of was still "him," and they couldn't take that for the same reason they couldn't take the Mana from the earth or the water.

Demons could only take from Spells or the wayward, unattached Mana present in the air, but this latter Mana was so scarce as to be useless for most demons.

Only kitsubi found it useful, and even for them it took an hour to absorb enough for a single Spell's worth with one tail, although their higher-efficiency Blood Skills could be sustained perpetually using this.

It was the same reason they couldn't steal from auras until Tier IV. Auras were tied to one's person, in a similar way to how the Mana within a pebble or person was tied to them.

Scholars called this Mana, bonded to a person or object's being, "Structure Mana."

But unlike Structure Mana, the Mana of an aura had a weaker bond, which was how it could blanket one's surroundings and why it leaked from one's body, the user unable to fully seal it away.

This weakened bond was what a Tier IV demon took advantage of to leech off of an aura.

This bond increased in strength as one traversed the Stages, to the point an Arch-Mage could retract their aura fully should they wish, but the bond would always be weaker than Structure Mana's, or such was true for the Stages Ziobrun knew of.

Since Fate used such a paltry amount of Mana to fuel his Skill, the imps only managed to snag enough to increase by less than half a degree in Fahrenheit in the time he went through them.

The imps were smart enough to give the aesh his space, lest they be caught in the crossfire, so now it was just him and Fate.

The aesh wiped red water out of his reddened eyes as he turned to his new challenger.

"A Journeyman pup?" laughed the demon. Fate was once again surprised by the voices of the aesh.

He expected a savage, guttural sound, but the aesh before him sounded like a middle-aged human man, and he even had a fatherly tone to his words, as if he was chiding Fate's decision while simultaneously laughing at a dad joke only he found funny.

"Can you not distinguish Tiers, human?" the aesh asked with a pointy-toothed smirk. "Let me help. You're Tier I," he said, pointing his sword at Fate. Then, with his other hand, he pointed at himself with his thumb. "And I'm Tier III.

"Know what that means? It means I can tear you into pieces with my bare hands. So why don't you run along; I'm in no mood to cut down a child. Those imp freaks can do it if they want to."

"It's Stages for humans like I," Fate grinned, using the words Kravoss had mocked him with when they first met. "Even I know that."

"It's called perspective, whelp," shrugged the aesh, who raised his sword. "But if you lack such a skill, I'll gladly make the separation clear."

"You talk big," Fate replied. "But why should I be afraid of you? You can't even destroy the ground beneath your feet.

"All I see are cracks. It makes me think that you didn't even destroy that wall on your own. Did you need us weak humans to help?"

The aesh laughed again. "Ah, don't think I don't remember you, human! You are the one who sliced my ankles and hid like a coward in the ground. What did you do to it, eh? Explosives? Enchantments? That rumble was your doing, wasn't it?"

"Changing the topic, demon?" Fate asked, hiding his bewilderment. He didn't expect it to see through his plan so fast.

But the demon wasn't fooled. "Don't think I don't see what's going on here, pup. You humans always have underhanded tricks up your sleeves. Why would I break the ground below me, when I can just do this?"

The aesh's grin turned feral as his arms flexed.

Suddenly, a sword as tall as Fate was hurtling toward the Journeyman's head.

Fate used his Skill on reflex, turning intangible just as he felt the wind licking his face from the force of the throw.

BOOM.

The sword flew through his head, sliced apart a handful of imps, and embedded itself in the building behind him, breaking through the first wall only to be buried up to the hilt in the second.

A trickle of sweat ran down Fate's brow as he realized how close he was to dying just then.

He hadn't expected such ridiculous speed from the wall of muscle that called itself an aesh, but he could only shake himself out of his stupor as that same wall of muscle rushed toward him with his horns down like a bull.