Mind Demon's Path of Domination

Mark and the Armor brawled on the floor like two mindless animals for a long time. Gauging out eyes, tearing at each other's faces, and trying whatever was possible to end one another. Mark couldn't hurt his enemy in the physical brawl, but his Parasite demonic trick's vines grew all over it, slowly possessing it.

But moving skillfully, the Armor locked Mark in his position and punched at his genitals, about to end it all.

Mark's heart thumped, and he finally decided it was time to stop the time.

Clown's Circus!

Would the Armor's greaves give it resistance to Clown's Circus, too? Or will he finally get some free time to battle it on his own terms?

The flying dust stopped in the atmosphere, the splattering of blood did the same. In a thousand meters surrounding Mark, all things came to an abrupt halt—time stopped moving.

Immediately, Mark held his breath and watched with his soul sense as his Parasitic vines began to inundate the Armor with a much faster speed.

It was being transformed into his parasitic host!

In this battle, Mark had lost his arms, his eyes, and experienced pain like he had never done before. And shamefully, he found himself wishing—hoping—that the Armor couldn't move.

Please just stop moving, die, he thought.

The vines of the Parasite demonic trick crawled over it, and Mark felt himself growing closer to his goal of turning the Armor into his Parasite Host. But then, it stirred—the Armor moved, in a place where everything was supposed to stay still.

In total, it hadn't remained stopped in time for not even a second. And Mark was right back in his crisis, locked under its hold in a weird position, completely helpless to protect himself. At least, in that short moment, he had covered his genitals with his own thigh.

But that was barely enough, now, the Armor had the advantage.

Mark had used all his cards and just a punch from the Armor now, and he would die. It was in position, Mark had no more tricks up his sleeve.

The Armor looked at its own hand, covered in parasitic vines, then looked around in awe at the stopped time. In some more seconds, it would be transformed into Mark's host, but it didn't seem to mind and just stared at everything.

"A… power that could stop time in a set area," it said. "If not for my greaves, I would die not knowing what even killed me."

Mark said, trying to buy one more second, "But now, you have a Resistance against it, too, right?"

He had 90% possessed the creature!

Suddenly, Mark's face changed slightly and he asked, "Armor, why are you not killing me?"

The creature stared at him with a deadly will. Alchemic Shapeshifting and the Seal of Destiny in Mark's hand had made it a bit greedy, but now, it stared without moving to kill. Yes, those things only made it a bit greedy but Clown's Circus?

The Armor was stunned by such a power!

This was not a power at the level of mere demonic tricks. Even normal Ultimate Demonic Arts couldn't compare to Clown's Circus—in fact, even the higher forms of demonic arts, the domains, could only match up to Clown's Circus.

What if this mind-numbing ability was used to create an Ultimate Demonic Art?

Mark had never been able to completely own Clown's Circus as his own like he did with Heart Input or Parasite, if he had made it his, he could have used it to create Art based on the best of all his Tricks!

Clown's Circus was just that good!

"I want it!" The Armor said with a guttural sound. "Give me that power and I will not kill you. Give me the Seal of Destiny, give it to me!"

Mark struggled to move in the locked position they were in. Some more time, just some more. It was hesitating—Clown's Circus was too good a thing to lose. But would it lose its own life to greed, wasn't it too wise to do such a thing?

Kek. I am such a fool, Mark lamented.

He had checked the Armor's stats with his violet screen.

As his Parasite moved closer and closer to completion, as the vines began covering it, it had kept one thing hidden from Mark. Long ago, it had gained Resistance to Parasite, too. The Armor had just been playing along with the act of being possessed slowly.

When did it gain the Resistance?

He had covered it with parasitic vines but kept away from the greave area. Then, how had it ended up gaining Resistance?

When it locked me in place, the first thing it did was make its greave touch the vines. Gaining Resistance to Parasite had been one of its goals when it decided to brawl with me on the floor.

This was the power of foresight even in a battle that had only taken some minutes. Quick thinking, experience, and a knowledge of one's own powers alone had put the Armor in this completely advantageous position.

Now that it had Resistance to the only weapon Mark held against it, Mark had no way of defeating it. Even Clown's Circus was a lost cause. The Parasitic vines vanished, crumbling away and the one-armed Armor pushed Mark's face against the floor.

Mark was not one to give up.

Heart Input!

Mark whispered into its mind without delay: "You are Mark's slave."

The Armor said coldly: "I will never think something like that, so you can even implant thoughts in your enemy's head. Truly, what a wonderful phenomenon you are!"

Heart Input!

Heart Input!

Heart Input!

Heart Input!

"You are Mark's slave."

"You are Mark's slave."

"You are Mark's slave."

"You are Mark's slave."

…

"Are you trying to break my mind?" the Armor laughed. "The wars and struggles had long broken it, no matter how many times a thought echoes in my mind, as long as I don't care about the thought, it would just be background noise."

After a hundred and seventy-nine Heart Inputs without budging the enemy's mind, Mark realized how useless that was. Especially, the Armor had a resistance to this Trick even without having a Resistance.

It just had to not listen to any thoughts that would put it at a disadvantage!

A person was not their thoughts, a person was the observer of their thoughts. If they had thoughts of murdering someone, they wouldn't become a murderer—that was just their thought. Only if they acted on the thought would their self represent that thought.

And now, all of Mark's abilities had lost their power on the Armor.

"Now, have you decided to stop?" It said. "You tried, you failed. You fought better than anyone at your level could, and you have made me thoroughly impressed.

"It would be a waste for such a talent to die, give me the Seal of Destiny in your hand and I will absorb the time-stop Trick without hurting you one bit! Then, you can also ask any question you want and I shall answer!"

Mark felt all sorts of emotions. Seal of Destinies was something created by the Demon World Will, and to use it, a demon has to kill someone else and absorb their soul.

The Armor was just tempting him—the moment it got its hand on the Seal, it would kill him and steal Clown's Circus. Mark was good at reading a person's greed.

If I had my hands, he thought. I should have absorbed a healing-type demonic trick using that Seal of Destiny.

He wished he could heal. He wished he didn't fight. He regretted past decisions.

But then, he chuckled audibly.

"Life and death is a pretty fun thing, isn't it, old Armor?" He couldn't help but feel how great living was compared to surviving. "Yesterday, I was plotting a genocide and today, I am at death's door with an ancient armor that wants to cozy me up to giving him my Trick before I kick the bucket."

The Armor gloomily stared, not speaking. It was also in the middle of a conundrum. It couldn't kill Mark, but it couldn't let go of him either—and it didn't have any way of binding him. More than anything, it didn't have any Mindpower in its holds.

"Armor, do you know the difference between living and surviving?" Mark said, and the Armor could only listen. "In another lifetime, I just survived. Every day was the same mundane thing, a repeat of yesterday.

"But that is so worthless, that is a way of living I never want to go back to. Look at me now, I don't know what will happen tomorrow, whether I will have a tomorrow at all is a mystery—but you know, I feel happy—I am alive! I am chasing my dreams!"

The Armor stood silent.

Mark continued, "I don't fear death. It is in fact just an escape from my potential if I could die. But… sigh… you say you will let me go but we both know how big a lie that is. Yet, I want to live—I don't want to die."

"You are not making any sense, why do you say this to me, you pup?"

Mark smiled. "You said you do not have dreams, that an armor doesn't need such a thing. My dream-oriented abilities didn't work on you because of that either. Yet, saying that you don't need dreams—are you not overestimating yourself, you old, rusty thing?"

The Armor frowned, growing wary.

Dreams show a person's true desires sometimes. Just like it showed how Yuri wanted to have a baby even though she herself didn't know she wanted such a thing. But to even dream, a person needs to have hope in their heart.

If they don't even have hope for a future, what are they to dream? A weary mind wouldn't be able to dream. It would succumb to life's realities. Yet, to have hope for the future, one needs dreams.

It was a paradox.

"Armor, why do you need my time-stop ability, why do you wish to be strong?" Mark asked.

"Because that is my purpose. Why I was born."

"Isn't becoming all-powerful meaningless if you are just a slave to your so-called purpose, or are you just too far gone?"

Not giving much thought to Mark's words, the Armor just remained wary. It was not going to listen to an enemy speak their ideals and fall prey amidst a battle to some dirty trick.

Mark breathed out. "I believe a person's dream must become their purpose. The purpose should come from them, not at them." Mark opened his eyes, two dark holes showing an array of bleeding veins. "You took my eyes by which I see, so I shall also give you a heart by which you dream."

Ultimate Demonic Arts are the combination of two or more demonic tricks that combine to form a new effect. It was like a recipe. Two salty abilities might join and create a saltier ability, but one salty and one sugary ability might create something else altogether.

And now, two of Mark's demonic tricks combined into one. They were both Tricks that he had complete control over—Heart Input and Dream Shock. And now, they became one for the first time, creating a new Demonic Art.

Ultimate Demonic Art—

Dream Input!

The Armor's mind grew blank, falling into a weird dream. It had believed itself invincible to all dream-type abilities, to all dreams, but indeed, it had overestimated itself!

One couldn't go beyond their own dreams.

Mark slid out of the locked position he was trapped in and stood up wobbly, looking at the crouched and silent Armor.

This was the hardest battle Mark had ever fought and he felt himself grow, mature.

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