11-13-2015, 04:28 AM
With the foundations of a large stonework structure between himself and the dark magician, Dante at least managed to feel slightly more secure. The lingering aches had not quite subsided yet, and the nerve-burning pain found itself redoubled by the new wound in the nephilim's gut. He retched up a small helping of bile and blood, reflexively coughing to keep the windpipe clear. If nothing else, at least Dante had managed to return his pain to the Fiendlord in kind.
Ultimately, it had been luck. Though that burst of rage may have provided the effort that very well may have saved his life, the half-devil couldn't bring himself to depend on that. Dante had gotten this far not because of anger, but because of his skill, and he couldn't just change that now. This was meant to be business - professional, precise, focused, not furious and spontaneous.
When has holding back ever saved your life? You have the power to end this in an instant, and you refuse because it's "not right."
Shakily, the devil hunter slipped Ivory back into the handgun's holster, his right hand now tugging at Rebellion's handle. Sword and gun wasn't typically his style, but Magus proved himself to be versatile and tricky- if nothing else, Dante had to match the versatility aspect. A shrill yell of pain rung out from the opposite side of the street, and Dante darted out from behind the cover of his building. His bad self wasn't going to be the one in control here.
You nearly died back there-
Because of you.
You don't want to die, do you?
Not because of you.
The mercenary pulled the trigger and let loose several more suppressing shots, the bullets creating clouds of grit where they hit the stone walls. Another orb of Gloom erupted from the alley Magus hid himself in, and Dante deftly rolled out of the way. Several drips of blood spilled from the open stab on the red-coat's lower torso, but he paid it little mind even as the severed nerves ground against each other.
You're hurting us both, you know. Stop fighting like this.
A few more shots into the darkness of the alley, then Dante armed himself with his greatsword. Soon enough, the sorcerer materialized again in an attempt to catch the Son of Sparda off-guard, but the shortsword would not find purchase this time. Rebellion swung about and caught the smaller blade mid-swing; despite the size difference, Magus's superior might held fast and the sword did not budge.
Both fighters held the clash for agonizing moments, each staring and seething into the face of their foe. "You should have died, fool. If you're so determined to live, I'll make your living moments hell," the Fiendlord growled menacingly.
Sneering back, the half-devil retorted, "Not just to live. To win." His strength seemed to buckle for a moment, but quickly pulsed back, the creases on his face intensifying. Magus narrowed his eyes. Truly, this man was of the strangely determined sort; of course, his next spell was in the process of changing that.
"You will do neither-!"
"Hey. Gun safety."
In the same sudden instant, they both raised their free hands for a sneak attack; Magus found a bullet placed in his open palm and Dante had Ebony blown away by a splash of dark magic.
The sorcerer quickly wrenched his shortsword to break their struggle, tossing Rebellion aside with abnormal ease. Though the nephilim tried valiantly as usual to retort, his body suddenly felt heavy and strained - not akin to the ailment of the wicked fog, but as if Dante's own body had been left weak and frail. The red-coat brought both hands to bear on his broadsword, fighting to keep the weapon aloft with his limbered arms.
Magus, meanwhile, allowed his hand to erupt with infernal energy again, another cry of agony escaping his mouth as the new wound seared itself closed. With a renewed look of grim focus, the sorcerer brandished his sword again with a fencer's dervish, preparing to strike down his withering foe.
You can't let yourself be weak! Unleash your power!
"Can't be bothered to fight fair?" Dante taunted madly, his frustrations thus far manifesting into a general spite of the wizard. Even though he didn't stand much of a change still trying to swing his sword, the devil hunter still had one more trick behind his back, and he would have to make it count. Otherwise, his desperation would take hold...
Ultimately, it had been luck. Though that burst of rage may have provided the effort that very well may have saved his life, the half-devil couldn't bring himself to depend on that. Dante had gotten this far not because of anger, but because of his skill, and he couldn't just change that now. This was meant to be business - professional, precise, focused, not furious and spontaneous.
When has holding back ever saved your life? You have the power to end this in an instant, and you refuse because it's "not right."
Shakily, the devil hunter slipped Ivory back into the handgun's holster, his right hand now tugging at Rebellion's handle. Sword and gun wasn't typically his style, but Magus proved himself to be versatile and tricky- if nothing else, Dante had to match the versatility aspect. A shrill yell of pain rung out from the opposite side of the street, and Dante darted out from behind the cover of his building. His bad self wasn't going to be the one in control here.
You nearly died back there-
Because of you.
You don't want to die, do you?
Not because of you.
The mercenary pulled the trigger and let loose several more suppressing shots, the bullets creating clouds of grit where they hit the stone walls. Another orb of Gloom erupted from the alley Magus hid himself in, and Dante deftly rolled out of the way. Several drips of blood spilled from the open stab on the red-coat's lower torso, but he paid it little mind even as the severed nerves ground against each other.
You're hurting us both, you know. Stop fighting like this.
A few more shots into the darkness of the alley, then Dante armed himself with his greatsword. Soon enough, the sorcerer materialized again in an attempt to catch the Son of Sparda off-guard, but the shortsword would not find purchase this time. Rebellion swung about and caught the smaller blade mid-swing; despite the size difference, Magus's superior might held fast and the sword did not budge.
Both fighters held the clash for agonizing moments, each staring and seething into the face of their foe. "You should have died, fool. If you're so determined to live, I'll make your living moments hell," the Fiendlord growled menacingly.
Sneering back, the half-devil retorted, "Not just to live. To win." His strength seemed to buckle for a moment, but quickly pulsed back, the creases on his face intensifying. Magus narrowed his eyes. Truly, this man was of the strangely determined sort; of course, his next spell was in the process of changing that.
"You will do neither-!"
"Hey. Gun safety."
In the same sudden instant, they both raised their free hands for a sneak attack; Magus found a bullet placed in his open palm and Dante had Ebony blown away by a splash of dark magic.
The sorcerer quickly wrenched his shortsword to break their struggle, tossing Rebellion aside with abnormal ease. Though the nephilim tried valiantly as usual to retort, his body suddenly felt heavy and strained - not akin to the ailment of the wicked fog, but as if Dante's own body had been left weak and frail. The red-coat brought both hands to bear on his broadsword, fighting to keep the weapon aloft with his limbered arms.
Magus, meanwhile, allowed his hand to erupt with infernal energy again, another cry of agony escaping his mouth as the new wound seared itself closed. With a renewed look of grim focus, the sorcerer brandished his sword again with a fencer's dervish, preparing to strike down his withering foe.
You can't let yourself be weak! Unleash your power!
"Can't be bothered to fight fair?" Dante taunted madly, his frustrations thus far manifesting into a general spite of the wizard. Even though he didn't stand much of a change still trying to swing his sword, the devil hunter still had one more trick behind his back, and he would have to make it count. Otherwise, his desperation would take hold...
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