The skies went still, the roiling clouds locking into place. Even the rift itself seemed to stop for a moment, as if something had wicked away its vigor. There was a pause, everything silent but for the sound of air whipping past Vincent.
“Gabriel’s Trumpet!” A wave of force caught him from the side. It swept him up and flung him as if he were merely a gnat. He tumbled end over end, deafened by the roar of a tsunami and buffeted by forces that could rip a skyscraper into a fine grit. A stray chip from his armor had ripped a slash across his temple, blood dripping for a moment before turning into shadow and then congealing over the injury.
Green sparks began flickering into reality, drifting and melting away like a luminous snow.
“All of you should get back. I might not be able to handle this on my own, but none of you are safe sharing a battlefield with me,” The voice came from all over at once, never loud, but clear to every single ear.
Miko squinted slightly, still weaving a spell between his palms. He’d managed to bum a healing spell off of Iliana in the time that Kuro had bought them, and at least he could actually move his shoulder again.
“That voice.”
“Haven’t heard that guy for
years,” Haze said without looking up. Reijuu silently turned, leading them farther away from the battlefield, “But even back then, he meant trouble.”
“Yeah… This time, he isn’t
our problem,” Miko snapped his fingers, the cat’s cradle of mystic strands condensing into a bulky ring upon his thumb, “Let’s enjoy the show.”
WHAM! The blow had come from nowhere, striking Vincent in the chest like a sledgehammer. The newcomer spun, smashing his left elbow into the youth’s face, and then seizing him by his shoulder with his right hand.
“Vincent, I’m here now,” Zebedee used his handhold (on very pointy spikes, of course) to wrench his opponent sideways, making the sword miss his face by scant inches, “And I’m going to stop the bloodshed. I promise.”
A kinetic burst drove the holy warrior forwards, a roar like an avalanche accompanying the rush. Putting his full momentum into the motion, he hurled Vincent earthwards. The armored one stopped almost instantly, and threw a burst of darkness skywards.
“Expected that, really,” Zebedee vanished, leaving only verdant motes to be swept up in the pitch black wave.
“And I expected this!” Vincent reversed his hold on his blade, stabbing behind him without turning around. Zebedee, caught in mid-sneak attack, jerked violently as the blade lanced into him.
“Did you now?” The illusion dissipated, and a bladed racquet swing came screaming down from above. The butt of the weapon slammed into Vincent’s face, the titanium frame bending under the impact. (This time) he (really) flew, streaking towards the ground like an out of control missile.
And now… Intercept. With that thought, Zebedee was waiting at the end of his enemy’s trajectory. He raised the racquet, slashing with all the power he could muster. The dozens of blades shattered against Vincent’s armor, but the blow still (somewhat) took. It kept the opponent off balance, and that was the key thing. His hand grabbed the armored shoulder once more, this time avoiding the spines that had slashed his palm before.
Forcibly, Vincent was spun into another hilt bash to his face. The racquet dissolved, and two battle-scarred hands seized him by the back of his head. A knee, driven with the force of a landslide, smashed into his throat directly beneath his chin. Zebedee maintained the grapple in spite of the recoil, planting both feet against Vincent’s (again, snugglably spiny) chest. He kicked off, vanishing into thin air instantly.
“Vincent, you aren’t going to win. I’ve fought a lot of ostensible ‘world destroying evils’, some bigger and badder than you,” The voice had no visible speaker once more, seemingly coming in the wind itself.
"You're wrong, Zebedee. These are levels of power that no one has ever attained. No one has stood against me tonight and caused me anything other than annoyance. Your so-called saviours are throwing themselves at me, only to be cut down. This power... this is only the tip of the iceberg for you," Vincent threw his arms back, puffing out his chest in defiance. Despite the shot he’d taken to the throat, his voice was unmuddled and his breathing wasn’t labored.
“Yeah, tip of the iceberg. Guess you’re right,” The bodiless voice was noncommittal. In an explosion of pale green light, a mountain of ice appeared directly over the worldslayer’s head.
“No pun intended, of course,” The glacier roared down from the sky, blotting out the stormy skies. It slammed into Vincent, bearing him down with inestimable tons of weight. He struggled against it, trying to shift against the unstoppable mass as it bore him down. He braced his left arm against it, turning his body to find the space to swing his blade.
------
From above, all the could be seen at first was a faint dark line spreading across the glacier. Jags of blackness began erupting along the growing fissure, geysers of hate forceful enough to smash through creation. The bursts soon began merging into steady streams, ripping a canyon deep enough to lose a city in across the icy mass. With one final explosion of Darkness, the (first skydiving) iceberg was ripped (tragically) in twain.
Vincent shot free of the gap, his sword raised. A glimmer of distorted light… That was Zebedee’s hiding spot. There was a shockwave as he flew towards his target, and a second as he swung his blade. In a moment, Zebedee had appeared once more, bracing the bladeless edge of his racquet against his right forearm. Vincent’s blade had sliced straight into the weapon, and was lodged almost through the far edge of the frame.
“You’re nothing, just like everybody else! You’re just chaff to burn in the flames I’ve started!” Vincent’s voices roared in unison (his spittle flecking Zebedee’s face, of course. Such manners.)
“You’re right. I’m nothing. But unlike the others you’ve been stomping mercilessly, I’m the servant of something… Somebody much greater. Much greater than me, much greater than you… A being so grand that he’s beyond comprehension. His compassion and splendor of infinite.”
“Why the hell should I give a damn this spineless deity of yours? He’s impotent, sending a weakling like you to do his bidding. Infinite compassion is nothing in the face of the boundless power I now have.” Vincent pushed harder, his blade severing the racquet. Half of the weapon dropped away, spiraling down towards the ocean below.
Zebedee caught the Vincent’s sword in his hands, two luminous blue forcefields protecting his palms. They hissed and sparked, attempting to keep the killer at bay.
“He cares about everybody, more than anybody else in this universe has ever loved another. He wants this fighting, this pain, to stop, Vincent. He wants Miko, Hector, Araini, Fratley, me… All of us… He wants all of us to stop trying to kill each other, to be able to live peacefully and happily.”
The forcefields shattered. Zebedee teleported past the blade, appearing with his hands resting upon Vincent’s shoulders.
“Vincent, you’re one of those people. He wants you to stop fighting, to be happy. If you can just stop rampaging, stop lashing out at anything that comes near you, and just ask for forgiveness, he can mend the aching in your heart.”
“SHUT UP!” A fist slammed into Zebedee’s face, flinging him away from Vincent. A moment later, the swordsman was above his opponent. He flung down a crescent of darkness, this attack striking Zebedee dead-on. It engulfed him, plummeting another two thousand feet. The distant attack exploded in a golden cloud, the blast audible over the roaring of the void.
“You came here preaching empty promises, servant of a useless god. If he really was as great as you said, why can’t he be here himself, to try and stop me?” Vincent’s gaze darted to the other warriors, gauging the distance they’d retreated to, “Your faith, and your god, are both worthless shams. Simply useless hopes that you’ve clung to because you knew you didn’t stand a chance.”
“If I thought I didn’t stand a chance, I wouldn’t be here right now…” Zebedee muttered quietly. Vincent snapped around, facing his adversary. Glasses were welded back together with a crackling bolt of electricity, cooled instantly, and then replaced upon the bridge of their owner’s nose. Zebedee raised his hand, wiping some blood from his lips.
“It’s obvious that you aren’t ready to talk yet. You’re still consumed by your rage, I suppose. I guess that means I’m going to have to beat some sense into you before we can resolve this situation peacefully.”
Vincent scoffed loudly in response.
“As I’ve said, you’re much stronger than I am. I’ll admit that. When I defeat you, then, that’s proof that some higher power has seen fit to intervene on my behalf.”
“And as I’ve said, there is no higher power than me!” Vincent careened forwards, raising his sword over his head. The air behind him roiled and turned red, almost bursting into flame.
“We’ll see, Vincent…” Zebedee dissipated into another verdant burst, leaving Vincent to charge at thin air. He reappeared a quarter mile off, and threw a straightarm punch towards his opponent. As the motion finished, a bolt of lightning shot forth, arcing directly from his fist into Vincent. The skies were washed white, all the gathered warriors appearing as flecks of black against the illuminated clouds. The swordsman lost control of his muscles for a scant moment, his arms jerking violently. His flesh sizzled from the incredible heat, the black plates adorning his body glowing red.
“That seemed to work fairly well…” Repeating the punch, Zebedee hurled another thunderbolt at Vincent. The master of the void brought his blade down, a loud ripping sound accompanying his movement. The electrical charge dispersed against a crescent of pitch black.
“Tearing a hole in reality itself, so the electricity would have nothing to conduct through…” Zebedee murmured to himself. He’d been trying to fight a fairly straight battle, but when the opponent kept breaking all the rules (even physics, dangit!), it was pretty clear he’d need to come up with a strategy Vincent wouldn’t even be able to expect.
“That was nothing for me. Merely a twitch of my wrist is enough to destroy anything I want…” Vincent stretched out his arms, letting his body mend the damage he’d taken. He focused, his armor mending itself into a twisted perfection once more. He watched his opponent warily, catching the instant that Zebedee blinked. Before his enemy’s eyes were open, he was inches away. His blade came down, a shockwave churning the air before it.
Flash! Zebedee was gone again. Vincent felt the air against his back, and turned, his blade ready. A left-hook caught him in the jaw, applying all the force of his spin directly to his neck. A burst of flames engulfed him, accomplishing little. However, when they’d faded, Zebedee had disappeared as well (yet again).
A crushing blow struck Vincent’s collarbone behind the armor, as if he had been struck by the iron first of a raging giant. He rode the impact, falling unceremoniously.
A second strike caught him in the lower back, this time punching through his armor with a loud crunch. Zebedee locked into place, folding Vincent backwards over the (fairly unused) mace he’d produced. His victim snarled and swiped at him with his sword, and then released it from his grasp. It spiraled away, and then arched back towards the holy warrior.
Zebedee spun, batting the weapon aside in a shower of sparks. Unable to fully disregard the impact, he whirled into a ringing lam that hammered into his target’s sternum. Shards of armor burst out around him in a blossom of black flecks, stinging his face and arms. Vincent made a strangled choking noise, and spat up globs of ichorous blood.
Zebedee teleported back (hands smarting), and raised the mace once more.
It was wrought from a single bar of dense alloy, the head formed by coiling it at one end. Directly across the neck of the weapon, there was a deep furrow, struck by the deflection of the vicious sword.
“I haven’t used this one since the last time I fought Hayato. But…” Zebedee cocked his head slightly (still not taking his eyes off of Vincent), “It seems to be the proper tool for the job.”
“It’s pitiful, really. That’s what it is,” The words came from bloodied lips. The fluid clotted into more dark spikes, flowing along Vincent and covering his wounds like a bird raising its hackles. He twisted unnaturally in the sky, his shattered spine mending and reinforcing itself against further damage.
“By the right tool, you simply mean some device that will let you die more slowly by my hand, Zebedee.”
“Yeah, sure, something like that,” Zebedee gestured, a cardboard package appearing in his right hand. With a deft twist, he stripped a line of tape from it, and then affixed it to his mace. “This is kinda like my greatest hits collection here. I haven’t used one of these in mooonths.”
Zebedee shot forwards, jolting sideways at an odd angle. He passed his weapon between hands, and torqued into a backhanded blow. The seemingly harmless box exploded upon impact, blanketing the two fighters in billowing grey smoke. Vincent threw a punch, a fountain of Darkness erupting from his knuckles. It was met with a white flash, the energy dissipating into harmless gleams of light.
Another cartridge appeared in Zebedee’s hand, this one thrown directly at Vincent’s face. It was batted aside, the blast not so much as bothering the wielder of the shadows. Exploiting the lapse in focus, Zebedee teleported directly into range for another clubbing blow to Vincent’s gut. The mace exploded as it hit, another package having been teleported in at the moment the weapon touched. As his opponent recoiled, Zebedee threw back his free hand. A crescent of wind, mirroring the movement, blew forth and shoved Vincent back.
“A rain of stars…” Zebedee raised his arms, crossing them over his chest. He brought them down, a multitude of bursts of green light strobing to all sides of Vincent. Armloads of the explosive packets hovered to all sides of him, like heavenly bodies orbiting around a sun.
“And the sixth seal was opened,” Dropping his mace into nothingness, Zebedee raised his left hand, palm open. Vincent burst into flames, the fireball imploding for a moment before bursting outwards. In unison, the packages exploded. A sphere of gunsmoke blew forth in a cloud, swiftly fading away in the high winds.
“That’s-“ Zebedee winced, a slash nicking his forehead. Blood ran freely, pouring into his eyes. A fist caught him by the tatters of his jacket, slamming him onto (what felt like, presumably) Vincent’s knee. He tumbled away, brushing the crimson from his eyes with one hand while the other clutched at his gut.
“That’s really the best you could do, Zebedee? Some fireworks and a halfhearted fireball? That’s not even pitiful, it’s disgusting. I’ve heard talk about you, about how strong and noble you are in a fight, about how you terrify demons as much as they frighten the typical human scum,” Vincent let his sword idly orbit his wrist, the scorch marks on his face fading into normal skin, “And so, I’ve been letting you hit me with everything you could muster. Every trick, every technique, every ounce of power you could eke out of your feeble body.”
“I’ve barely been trying to defend myself, seeing if you could actually live up to the hype… It was not my best decision. Most of the people who’ve fought me here today have merely been irritations. You’re worse. You’re nothing but an empty disappointment,” He raised his sword, glaring down at Zebedee. His opponent had stopped the bleeding from his face, but was now trying to deal with a nasty gash across his abdomen. His arms were covered in burns, his sleeves ripped to tatters, the expense of using explosives at such close range. He looked back at Vincent, fear in his eyes for the moment before he became totally invisible.
“Tell ya what, Vincent… It’s clear that nothing I can casually pull up is enough to stop you, and it’s obvious that I can keep dodging you and harassing you until the end of the world, maybe longer. Neither of us is accomplishing much if we just keep going at it like this,” The voice came from all directions at once, ragged and panting, but still teasing. Dozens of distortions appeared in the air, decoys preventing Vincent catching him in mid-speech again.
“So, how about a deal… I hit you with my best shot, and you hit me with your best shot, no evading or silly tricks like that, and we’ll see where that leaves us. A fair way to end this battle quickly and cleanly, so we both can get on with our lives, eh?”
Vincent cast his gaze about warily, his blade twirling around his wrist. His expression remained neutral.
“Oh, please, I’m not going to reveal my location unless you agree,” Zebedee’s voice had a high, teasing note to it. This was the key gambit…
Of course, if he just blows the planet up, he could find me that way, too… Let’s hope he plays along.“You’re just rushing to your death now. You do realize that, right, Zebedee? The one time I merely brushed you with an attack, you only avoided having your skull crushed by the scantest of margins. When I actually hit you, I had to hold back to a mere fraction of my true strength to avoid smashing your entire body to a pulp. You haven’t been evading me so much as fleeing your inevitable fate.”
“I take that to be a ‘Yes’?”
“Sure. If you want to die that swiftly, I’m not going to argue,” Vincent glanced around, warily, ensuring nobody else was going to exploit this challenge for a free hit. The Summoners and their ilk had backed off almost two miles away, still astride their collection of the flying lizards they conceitedly called ‘dragons’.
“Well, then… Let’s get started…” There was the crack of thunder from below, Zebedee bursting into visibility just above the ocean’s surface. Whorls and arcs of golden light wafted around him, dancing in an impossibly complex pattern. Each one diffused into a multitude of strands along the edges, looking like otherworldly feathers caught in a playful breeze. His bleeding had stopped, a gentle reddish glow covering each scratch and scar upon his body.
“God, it’s all in your hands now. It’s obvious I can’t win this on my own, as I’ve foolishly tried to do. All I can do now is ask that you see fit to lend me the strength I need, and that your will shall be done here this day…” Zebedee sighed, and then wet his lips. He glanced upwards, focusing upon his enemy.
“I certainly would appreciate it if you let us all survive this, though. That would make me happy,” He hovered lower, barely touching the crests of the waves with the soles of his shoes. As if recoiling from him, the ocean’s surface dipped low beneath his feet. The ripples and swells laid flat, the surface of the sea becoming as smooth as a mirror. The calm began growing, and spread outwards in a perfect circle.
Zebedee exhaled softly, and the lowered his left hand to point directly at the iris of the expanding tranquility. The radius of the stillness shot outwards, now collapsing the waves in its wake. Soon, to the horizon, all the tumult had been stricken from the water. It rested, a perfectly level plain stretching for miles farther than any eye could see.
“And in the greatness of thine excellency thou hast overthrown them that rose up against thee; thou sentest forth thy wrath, which consumed them as stubble. And with the blast of thy nostrils, the waters were gathered together, the floods stood upright as a heap, and the depths were congealed in the heart of the sea.”
“The enemy said I will pursue, I will overtake, I will divide the spoil: my malice shall be satisfied upon them. I will draw my sword, my hand shall destroy them. Thou didst blow with thy wind, the covered them: they sank as lead in the mighty waters.”
Zebedee raised his left hand, slowly spreading his palm. He pointed directly at Vincent, a tiny dot hovering miles above him. His aura swept back, as if pushed by a phantasmal zephyr.
“A sign of the end of days, the sounding of seven trumpets…” Zebedee’s palm glowed celadon for an instant, and then the sky above him exploded. A wave of air shot skyward, blazing like a comet fired back towards the heavens. There was an immeasurably loud boom, the sound alone hammering the ocean below into a froth once more.
Vincent braced himself, blade readied. He was swept up without time to react, the burst moving several times faster than the speed of sound. He pushed back, cutting into the mass. It parted, and another column slammed into him, directly tailing the first. The concentrated maelstrom tore at Vincent’s body, ripping plates of armor out by their gory roots as it dragged him into the stratosphere. His skin itself began to rip off in macabre strips, the fury of the tramontane assailing him without relent.
“The fury of the entire Pacific Ocean… Every of joule kinetic energy I could wrest from it, poured into that one attack…” Zebedee’s breathing was high, his throat seizing up. His entire body was shaking, barely able to hold steady after expending so much of his vitality. Keeled over, his braced his raw hands on his knees.
After a minute catching his breath, Zebedee leaned back, stretching. He noticed the sky had taken on a reddish hue above, the atmosphere itself bubbled out from the force of the blast. The ruddy tone was already starting to fade as the sky pulled itself back together.
”If he can bounce right back- right back from that, then… then I’m really, really in trouble. We… all will be.”
“You all
are,” A voice came from behind Zebedee, sinister tones and a feral snarl both contesting to be heard. The holy warrior twisted to face Vincent, and then winced, clutching at a stitch in his side.
Vincent was a mass of writhing shadows, violently seething around a human core. They slowly pulsated inwards, drawing back into his injuries and replacing the armor he had lost.
“So, that was the best you could do. I feel a little better, having seen something actually worthwhile come of our fight. Of course, now you’re barely on your feet, and I was only inconvenienced. You’re done, Zebedee,” Vincent held up his hand, Darkness pouring in to form his blade. As the umbra faded away, it revealed his triumphant smirk.
“You might as well have tried to douse a forest fire with a single bucket of water. In some tiny way, it slowed me. But in the end, I’ll only thrive and grow until I’ve wiped out everything you want to protect, and you’ll be dead.”
Zebedee smiled weakly.
“It’s my turn now. Try not to run.”
“I won’t.”
Vincent lifted off from the ocean’s surface, his wake kicking up a massive splash. He arced to an altitude of a few hundred feet up, and then stopped perfectly. He swept his arms down, and two columns of darkness exploded from the rift above. They thundered past their master, and bowed into two curved pillars of seething shadows.
His fists clenched, gigantic spikes sweeping outwards along both conduits of power. They flattened and extended, condensing into scythelike blades the size of skyscrapers. There was a resonance in the air as lines of shadow crept from Vincent’s arms, taking hold of each projection. The strands ignited into thick cables wrought of malevolence, pouring the master’s might directly into the titanic constructs. The sky darkened further, shadows radiating from the wicked edges as if it was light.
He flung back his hands, the two weapons spiraling back into the sky above.
“This isn’t my best attack. But it’s certainly enough to end this,” The chords went taut. With a single grunt of exertion, Vincent set the two immense weapons swinging down like a pair of pendulums. The wind screamed past the weapons, trails of shadow left in their wake.
The blades hit the water in unison, kicking up sprays that could blanket a city block. The spikes along the back of each sickle hit the seabed below, and ripped furrows into the stone as if it were dust. Zebedee looked up towards the sky, and with a faint smile, held out his arms to either side. He threw back his head, and felt the wind blowing around him.
The points, each big enough to be the keel of an ocean liner, met with a surprisingly quiet rumbling. Waves burst to either side, the salty spray flung high enough for Vincent to feel it on his skin. At the epicenter of the apocalyptic strike, Zebedee stood, caught in the guillotine.
“Didn’t even try dodging… And here I was, hoping he’d last for more than one swing,” Vincent shrugged, “I still have the Summoners, Fratley, and that mage to deal with. It’s not as if I’m out of targets.”
He twitched his wrists, the two blades parting once more. Waterfalls cascaded into the crevasses left by the slashes. Zebedee still stood, holding his pose despite being drenched to the bone.
“You… You live?” Vincent’s bellow was even louder than the rushing water.
“Yeah. Wish I had something wittier to say, but well, yeah,” Zebedee opened his eyes, and brought his arms up. With a flourish, he indicated a spot on one of the edges. A neat semicircle had been burnt out of it, glowing the same shade of gold as his aura.
“You’re welcome to try again, though.”
Vincent didn’t respond.
The two blades drew back, crossing together. They lost cohesion, and began flowing together and shaping into another humongous implement of destruction. They formed into a wedge that looked fit for cutting moons in half, all of the spines along its back edge. The point honed down until it was impossible to see with the naked eye, sharp enough to split molecules.
“I’m not going to kill you, Zebedee. I’m going to strike you right out of existence. There won’t be cinders left of you when I’m done…” Vincent raised his arms again, and the tethers pulled his colossal hammer up to his level again. He spun like an Olympian throwing a hammer, swinging it around him in a huge circle. Wind from its passing buffeted Reijuu, forcing Haze to struggle to keep her steed level.
It plummeted, flames and shards of blackness rolling off of it in measures that blotted out the sky. The center was aimed directly at the top of Zebedee’s head.
The holy warrior raised his left hand. There was a golden flash, and the behemoth of a maul stopped dead mere feet over the surface.
“Yoshimitsu had a very specific reason for asking for my aid, Vincent. It wasn’t just because of my friendship, but also because of another skill I’ve had the fortune of acquiring,” Zebedee’s palm was braced easily against the edge, another golden glow eating into it. The image called to mind Atlas bearing the sky upon his shoulders (if Atlas had been the showy type).
“It’s called Holy Energy, Vincent. The same thing that angels wielded to cast Satan out of Heaven, to banish mankind from Eden,” The illumination began to creep along the weapon, inscribing spiraling, swooping lines across its surface. A detailing, reminiscent of palm fronds, began to grow from the surface, and started gently undulating.
“It feeds on hatred, the arcane, blasphemy… Using it as fuel for its own might. The more evil and adversity that is poured out against it, the greater it becomes,” Zebedee brought up his other hand, a large spark leaping from it. Upon contact with the mountainous wedge, the patterns ceased their idling emergence, and began racing wildly in all directions. Tendrils spiraled up the chords, racing along and into Vincent’s arms and hands.
“It’s a universal truth. When real goodness is exposed to suffering and malice, it isn’t corrupted. It simply becomes even more refined, the flames of hardship smelting the weaknesses and flaws away,” The wedge had become a cloud of golden pinions, beating the air with an unearthly grace. Vincent himself appeared to have wings, the feathery growths emerging as if he was catching on fire.
“You might as well have tried to douse a flame in gasoline.”
The battlefield was washed in shades of saffron as a silent explosion went off. The entire conglomeration of shadows that Vincent had brought forth was instantly converted into a conflagration that could be seen from orbit.
OOC: I think this counts as a "triumphant return".
