Colosseum - Quarterfinal - Magus vs Dante

[Magus]

Something snapped within him as the preposterous alien creature continued to pummel him. He’d been beaten by monsters like him again, and again, and again, until finally, yet another band of monsters took him in. Gave him a home, in exchange for his servitude.

To be extra generous, the routine beatings and constant derision he suffered at the hands of Ozzie and his subordinates came free of charge. But he had surpassed Ozzie, and in his grace, offered him a place as one of his generals, until the pain had lingered too long and he’d put the green bastard to his scythe.

Lavos had beaten him down, too. Not once, not even twice, but three times, the creature had beaten him down. An alien that had been unto a god, and he had surpassed it.

So, too, would he surpass the demon currently beating the shit out of him, for he was the King of Demons.

With a roar, an explosion of flames and fury erupted from his flesh, staggering Dante off of him and onto his feet. It hardly fazed him, but it didn’t need to. Magus leapt to his feet, his face dangling from his cheekbones like a macabre puppet.

Magus raised his arm and a scythe materialized in his hand. Magus screamed, half in agony, half in rage, and plunged the deadly spear-end into Dante’s chest. The grotesque devil metamorphosed back to his normal form, albeit now with a 7-foot haft jammed through his torso. He stood, coughing and shuddering.

“Why can’t you die?!” the Fiendlord thundered.

“I can,” Dante rasped, falling to his knees. “It’s just… really hard.”

The wizard closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Fine. Live, then. You are extraordinary, demon. You should think hard about joining my army and help me rise up against Omni. You’re strong and cool under pressure. I could not imagine a better soldier.”

Magus turned and shambled off, to rest again before being let loose once more into the meat grinder.