There’s no fair or unfair in battle.
First he had dealt with brigands and cowards. Now he was undercover as some kind of degenerate wanna-be. Vandrad didn’t know who this Agil was but, as far as he was concerned, he was an asshole.
Vandrad couldn’t quite remember what happened when he had gone to the Demon’s Den a day prior. He recalled getting there and setting the entire place on edge. Most of them looked ready for a fight and the Prince would have welcomed the chance to prove to them just how futile their chances were. But then that man, the tall bulky one, had transformed into some kind of demon. Either his magic was based around something demonic or he was a true-to-heart creature of Hell but no matter the case, it had caused a chance in Vandrad. The blinding fury and viciousness he’d felt once before came to the surface and then, the next thing he knew, he awoke. He was standing in the bar once more but it was a burning, bloody shell of its former self. Bodies and human pieces were scattered all across the gutted place, melted and burned to a crisp as the fire raged within the bar.
It was the same overwhelming sensation that had overtaken him in his fight with Magnus. The angelic form had filled him with such anger and hatred and he’d turned into… something. He still couldn’t properly describe what had happened, as his memory was hazy and lacking finer details. But it had happened again and this time, it had been at the sight of a demon. That was concerning -- he couldn’t have this hindrance interrupting him on jobs, should some kind of demon appear in the middle of a fight? It was dangerous enough for his enemies but who knows what could happen to innocent people around or even worse, if Mercury was there with him. He’d have to analyze it when he had the time… but apparently that wasn’t now. Though the job was completed, the owner of the Black Cat Lounge had another job ready for him. Now he had to infiltrate another bar slash night-club establishment in Oak Town. Apparently a lot of ne’er-do-wells gathered there and were starting to work together in groups, leading to the possibility of another dark guild forming.
Vandrad was told to go in disguise, as anyone he had scared off the night before would surely know who he was. The Prince highly doubted anyone had survived his furious rampage but it was better to not take any chances. A fake goatee and a large pair of sunglasses would suffice, if only because Vandrad chose not to go to any extravagant lengths for such an annoying job. He was let in without issue, walking past the bouncers easily and wading into the ocean of dancing people. The Prince did his best not to show any admonishment towards the people around him but the tight, enclosed space and the undulating bodies were, for lack of a better term, annoying. He needed to find a good spot to set up and listen in, so that he could find out who the head of the movement was.
But before he could do that, the music suddenly stopped. A lot of the dancers groaned and exclaimed their unhappiness over the turn of events but soon hushed when a man walked up onto the DJ stage. A blond man, overly pretty, with big sunglasses and a smirk that could curdle dairy. The very air about him smelled of money and assumed power. It was truly like Vandrad had found Louie’s long lost clone.
“Ahem,” the man said as he picked up a microphone. “It seems we have an intruder in our midst. A spy who seeks to listen in on our most intimate secrets and reveal them. Excuse me, sir?” With a wave of his hand, the lights on the ceiling swung around and settled on Vandrad. All of the people around him immediately stepped away, giving him ample space. “I know every single person that comes into this place. Every intimate detail -- I can feel them in the back of my mind when I lay my eyes upon them. But you… I feel nothing from you. An emptiness and such a vacuum is not to be trusted.”
"Neither are showboating mouth breathers,” Vandrad replied coolly, reaching up to pry the goatee from his face. "A handful of you are dark mages, looking to cause problems across Fiore. I’m here to make sure you think twice about that.”
“Oh what a brave hero, coming in here all by your lonesome to save the day. Unfortunately, your information is a little… skewed.” The pretty boy pulled back his sunglasses slowly, revealing glowing red eyes. Vandrad’s own eyes widened as he felt the pain return, searing into his flesh as his anger rose. His hands shook violently as he tried to gain some modicum of composure. Out of the crowd two bouncers emerged, already transforming into their demon forms. The presence of all three of them felt like pin needles stabbed right into his skull. “Petrified with fear. Well, that is too bad. Boys, bring him to me. I want to see every little secret he has in there.”
Rose-colored energy erupted from Vandrad’s hand and swung in an arc towards the demon bouncers, sliding right through their necks. At the same time, Vandrad seemed to have disappeared… only for the blade of a scythe to come up from behind the blond man and press itself against his neck, surprising him. As he watched, his fear rising, the heads of his bodyguards toppled to the ground, causing the entire room to panic and flee in every direction.
A hand came around and grabbed the pretty boy demon by the neck, fingers digging into his flesh as he was forcibly turned around. There stood Vandrad, a malicious black ‘M’ tattooed on his forehead and veins protruding from his flesh over his temples and neck. His eyes were somehow both manic and calm, brimming with a cool rage that could upend mountains and swallow oceans. His gaze met the demon’s, allowing his power of telepathy to read deep within the soul of the Prince. And what he saw caused his skin to blanch as white as paper. “I-It can’t be…”
"Believe it, filth,”