by Kindred Ult
As it recoiled, he dropped both of his arms until they were level with his shoulders and lunged past it, cutting half of an arm and half of its head off with his dirk, and slicing through its torso with his sword. As this one fell in several pieces, Niethel turned and smiled to Demenn.
"Booya'!"
But Demenn was not looking at Niethel, his gaze fixed on Brand, who was still battling the two last vampires. He was puzzled by the battle, because by his movements, it was obvious that Brand was stronger, faster, and had more technical skill than the two of them put together, and yet he seemed to be struggling greatly against their combined attacks now. His blocks were jerky and ill-timed, and he barely seemed aware of their blades. Perspiration was on his face, and he appeared to be concentrating greatly. The vampires, almost sensing his uncertainty, pressed their attacks and began pushing him back. He still blocked all of their attacks with his single blade, but now he was stepping back in order to compensate for them.
It was then, when he had passed close to Demenn, that he saw his eyes, and everything made sense. 'He's blind.' It was day, and as such Brand could not use his lycanthropic abilities like giving himself fake eyes. 'How long has it been since had had to fight blind?'
Even as he was thinking that, though, Brand blocked up to the right in a straight, perfect block, and stopped a blade on the last inch of its point. Pivoting to the side, he slammed his sword into another blade even closer to the tip, barely centimeters from the end of it. And finally, he brought his sword up and blocked down on two blades stabbing at him. Demenn could not tell for sure, but right when the blades met, he could have sworn that their edges were touching, as if Brand had blocked them at their very ends with his own.
Right after that moment, everything changed. Brand blocked each and every attack without hesitation, and always at the perfect moment and place. In a few more seconds, he threw out his first counter attack, and that was all it took for one of them. It put out its right blade to block him, and it thought that it had the right placement, but it seemed that, at the very last second, there was a subtle shift in the blade, and it ended its arc right under the end of the blade. The top of his sword literally touched the bottom of its blade, and then it cut through its arm. As its forearm, overburdened, by the blade attached to it, tipped and fell to the ground, and it jumped back as his sword passed through and, losing no momentum, sliced at its face. Brand lunged with it, only faster. Its eyes widened, and a hiccup of surprise burst out as his beautiful elvish sword slid through its ribs and stabbed into its heart.
He pulled his blade from its chest and whirled around to slap a stab from the last one to the side. The beasts snarled, showings its freakish teeth, and stabbed out one last time with its other weapon. Brand brought his sword back and stuck it forward with the blade facing forward. Amazingly, when the point of the stab and the edge of the sword met, the two weapons stopped in place, and Demenn was finally sure of what Brand was doing.
'He has spent all of this time measuring their weapons!'
The vampire was obviously as surprised as Demenn was, and it had no will left to resist when Brand spun to the side and sliced through the middle of its head. The fine metal of his sword slit through the skull like flesh. The top of its head, and two halves of its eyes, rolled off of its head and flew through the air to land right-side-up on the ground.
* * *
As Varus stalked toward him, Dimitrious tried to crawl away, but it was slow going. His skin was slowly peeling away from the wound, decaying, and falling off of his body to disintegrate on the floor. Both of his legs were broken, and the pain from the holy water was excruciating. When Varus stood over him, he ceased his struggles and looked up.
"Well done," blood spewed from his mouth as he spoke, "I suppose your not just another nothing after all."
"You damn right. Now I hope you've made your peace with whatever it is you bastards serve." He was raising his sword for the final blow when something warned him of danger, and he threw himself back just as a fur-covered leg swung at him. He rolled over his back and then backpedaled several more feet as he saw Dimitrious swiftly morph into a great mass of fur and muscles before lurching to his feet as his body finally fleshed out and his wings flared from his shoulder blades. He was most certainly a werepyre, and his entire body exuded power and strength. His legs were perfectly healed, and while the cut on his chest was not yet healed, it looked so miniscule that it probably would not be noticeably had he not been looking for it.
Blood was still on his teeth when he smiled. "You could not have thought that it would be that easy. I would not have come here without first making sure that I was prepared for anything. Do you see now, little one? This power that I wield is perfect. I am perfect; a superior being. You will die."
"Well, I suppose that it would be anti-climactic if I were to not even the score." Varus assumed his Other form and once again dropped his shield but kept his sword in his left hand, which was now more like a long knife. "Let's end this."
"Yes, let us." Dimitrious paused for a moment and looked to the side. "only seven minions left, Oh well, they will be more than enough."
"You should be more worried about yourself."
Varus crouched and sprang forward with a right hook. Dimitrious snapped his head back to his opponent and met the fist with his open palm. When the blow connected, all of the muscles in their arms contracted, and Dimitrious slid back a few feet, but in the end, all of the power from Varus's strike was absorbed by his one hand. In the momentary lull after the punch, he wrapped his hand around Varus's wrist and pulled him in while shifting his body and throwing out a gut punch. Using his wings, Varus lifted his body from the ground and over the strike, and then shot out a kick straight for Dimitrious' snout.
Dimitrious ducked under the blow, turned his body around, grabbed Varus's trapped wrist with both hands, and slammed him over his back and onto the ground. He picked up his foot to slam it down on Varus's face, but before he could, Varus's feet shot up and he shoved the claws of his toes into Dimitrious' hands while pulling his hand away and pushing his legs forward. In only a moment, Dimitrious' hands involuntarily loosened, and Varus shot away from him. He hit the ground once and then flipped himself up to land on his feet. He could not help but notice that his Other form was almost perfect. That slam into the ground had hurt, but now, only moments after, he barely felt any pain in his back. And that was not even counting his new-found strength, speed, and the strange fact that wounds were not carried over. He could tell that his shoulder blade was undamaged, even though it had almost been torn out earlier.
Varus charged Dimitrious, but it was the werepyre who moved first. He raised one monstrous fist into the air and slammed it down into the ground. His unearthly strength caused a large cloud of dust to fly up momentarily, and as Varus squinted and tried to stop his charge forward, he suddenly shot forward. In a very vampiric manner, he used his two voluminous wings to gain speed, and so it was far too late when Varus noticed him closing the now very small distance between the two of them. He tried to defend, but mistakenly chose to guard his face, and so felt all of the air leave him when he took a straight punch to the chest.
His eyes widened as the blow fully connected with him, and the full picture of just how much stronger the werepyres were was fully shown to him in that moment. The fist dug several inches into his chest, and he heard a few cracks as, with a gasp of surprise and pain, he was thrown back.
'I can't take another one of those!' He frantically thought, and realized that had he not been in his Other form, he would have been killed by that punch. The thought did little to console him, however, as he flipped himself over from where he landed and got to his feet to see Dimitrious fly at him once again. Just moving hurt his splintered chest, which was just barely beginning to heal, but he felt that the damage was nothing life-threatening at the moment, and knew that if he did not move, he would die.
Even with the warning he had received, Dimitrious still moved
like lightning, and he barely ducked under a punch he knew would have taken off his head. Using every moment to his advantage, Varus shifted to the side and behind Dimitrious as his charge carried him past him, and punched out with his right hand to the kidney before stabbing his sword into Dimitrious' back. He felt the flesh and bone give way as he punched in, and knew that his punch was effective, but almost as soon as it ended, they re-knit themselves together, and by the time his punch was back to him, it looked like nothing had happened. The stab had a little more effect, as the wound did not start to heal, but with the entire bulk of Dimitrious, it was not even close to a fatal blow.
Dimitrious swung around with a back knuckle at blinding speed, but Varus was once again able to duck under it. He was about to attack back once again, but then Dimitrious finished the spin with a round kick to the stomach. Varus could almost already feel his spine breaking from the blow, and he could not dodge the blow, so he placed both of his forearms in a guard to prepare for it. Even with the solid defense though, he was still blown back like so many leaves by the sheer brutality of the werepyre's strength. He flew through the air once again, but this time Dimitrious was right next to him before he had even hit the ground.
"Damn."
Dimitrious pulled his right arm back and slammed it down. Once again, Varus could see his death in the blow, even if he tried to block it or dodge it. In fact, he most certainly would have died, with the fist punching a hole through his body and into the ground, except that right before it hit he used its own arm as leverage to save himself. He shoved his arms against the wrist of the werepyre with all of his strength. Of course, his effort did nothing to move the werepyre, or his arm, but since he was in the air, it did move Varus out from under it and even quite a ways away.
As Dimitrious' punch once again decimated the ground under him, and another cloud of dust was raised, Varus decided to use Dimitrious' tactics against him. He was well outside of the cloud, while the werepyre was in the middle of it, and this time Dimitrious was not able to see Varus until it was too late for him to stop the fist that flew at him and smashed his snout in. His body rocked back and he began flailing about as his face took on a singularly flat appearance from the efforts of a wing-assisted flying punch. In another moment, Varus brought his left hand around and sliced another line across Dimitrious' chest, only in the opposite direction, and finally shoved his sword into the middle of his chest. He should have leapt back as soon as he first attacked, however, as before he could now, one of Dimitrious' flailing arms caught him and bowled him over.
"Arrgh! Damn you!" Dimitrious screamed through his indented mouth. He was surely in a sorry condition, but Varus was no better. His back felt broken from Dimitrious' last random attack, and even in his Other form he could do nothing save watch the werepyre and hope he would be able to move before Dimitrious could find him. Even that hope left him, however, and as he watched in horror, Dimitrious grabbed his face with his claws and ripped it outwards. It was something only barely resembling a snout, but apparently that was enough for his healing factor, which quickly morphed his broken and bloody mockery of a face into what it had been minutes ago.
As he turned, grinned, and stalked forward, Varus sighed in despair. He suddenly felt like he had before he had become a vampire, when he had battled Demenn. He felt totally helpless again, like he was fighting something completely different than he. Like he was fighting a true immortal.
'Once again, I can't move, and here comes my enemy to finish me. I only hope he actually does it quick this time, not like that bastard Demenn.' He closed his eyes from exhaustion and surrender. He was finished struggling.
But just then a gloved hand covered his closed eyes, and a voice, Niethel's voice, whispered. "Keep your eyes closed and open your mouth."
Just as he did he heard Dimitrious screaming in pain, but that lost his interest as he felt warm blood flow down his mouth. His hyper-active, Other form regenerative system shot into effect as soon as it felt the blood it craved and required, and in moments he felt as if the entirety of the battle up until now had not happened.
"Okay, you can open them now." Niethel took away his hand and took a few steps back.
When he did so, the first thing he saw was Dimitrious on the ground writhing under a beam of pure light coming from the side. He immediately had to avert his eyes, however, as just looking at the light almost blinded him. Just from looking at him, he could tell that, if that light were to touch him, he would lose whatever fell under it. It was not just light to him, at that moment. It seemed more like holiness incarnate. Like judgment. To his right he heard Demenn grunt, as if he were lifting something very heavy.
"I cannot...keep this up for much longer. Varus, when The light ends, you must destroy him. Neither I, Niethel, nor Brand have the strength right now."
Varus nodded his agreement and stood, testing out his limbs and ribs. He honestly still felt like he had just entered the fight.
"Grh, I cannot...Now Varus!" Instantly the light faded, and Varus brought his eyes down to see Demenn collapse to the floor and Dimitrious leap to his feet. His fur was singed and still burning at the tips, which amazed Varus, as he wondered how the beast could still be alive. What really looked strange to Varus, however, was that all of the cuts he had placed with his sword, and most noticeably the three on the chest, were glowing with a bright light. Almost as if to match his strange wounds, Dimitrious' eyes also glowed with fury, and his voice was a low, guttural growl when he spoke.
"Dead, dead, all of you will be dead. I'll murder you all."
Even as he spoke, though, and a chill flowed down Varus's spine, a thought entered his brain, and he smiled in defiance.
"Well, why don't you just start with me then. We have unfinished business." He flew forward as fast as possible, and at the very first he could tell the difference in not only himself but in his opponent as well. He had not noticed how Dimitrious had slowed before, but that was because he himself had slowed to an even greater degree. Now he was as fast as possible, and Dimitrious had slowed.
It seemed that Dimitrious himself had not noticed the difference yet, as he took time to speak instead of move. "Fool, you cannot kill me! I am immo—"
His words were cut off by a hook across the face, and as he stumbled back Varus's sword flashed twice across his chest, once horizontal and the other vertical. Looking down at his chest, Dimitrious seemed to finally notice his situation, and he quickly backpedaled to make distance between the two of them. Varus was determined to not let that happen, and he launched himself toward the other as fast as possible.
Even though he flew forward with all of his strength, and blinding speed, Dimitrious had seen many faster fighters in his lifetime, and even though he was moving back, he was able to strike first.
"Die!" He yelled as he punched out with all of his might in a straight line for intersecting Varus's flight.
Varus smiled, however, and only slightly shifted his wings upward and then them shoved down again. The result was a slight rise, just slight enough to barely take him over the punch and then plunge him to the ground, right inside Dimitrious' guard. Before Dimitrious could even begin to register the change, he shot two swift but devastating punches right into his his chest, and with satisfaction, saw that the wounds at least did not immediately heal.
Not bothering to see if they healed later, Varus ducked under one last desperate punch by Dimitrious, and then flared up his wings and used his bent knees and a flap from them to shoot his head directly into the glowing marks. His head hit the chest like a battering ram, and the two spikes he had for horns penetrated the chest as all of his power crashed into it as well. Such was the power, and damage done, that Dimitrious lifted off of the ground several feet before landing back on it on his feet. He could not even begin to respond to the situation before Varus lunged at him one last time.
He pulled back one hand, straightened the fingers until his hand resembled a knife, and then stabbed it into the werepyre's che
st. His claws pierced through the battered flesh, and he encountered little resistance from the muscles and bones. His hand went in almost past the forearm, and when he yanked it back out, there was an oversized werepyre heart attached to it. Large veins still connected it to its parent host, and Dimitrious watched in horror as Varus slashed them in two with one swipe of his other clawed hand.
Once those cords were cut, and the blood spewed from them like faucets before Varus grabbed them all in one hand and staunched them, it was like everything changed for Dimitrious. He began screaming. Loud and high pitched. Not as a woman would scream, or even a child, but like a siren, ear piercing and otherworldly. He slowly morphed down into his vampire fore, and his mouth was open far more than seemed possible. Slowly, all over his body, cuts and stabs began to form and spew. It was as if all of those from his fights over the millennium were finally showing, and there were hundreds of them.
"Lucifer! Lucifer Save me!" He somehow yelled in a normal voice while still screaming in the background. The cuts and stabs continued to increase in number and depth, until finally his body fell to pieces onto the ground, and even then his limbs still continued to be chopped into smaller and smaller pieces. Only his head remained attached to his torso, and still he screamed.
