Day 4 Evening

[Belle]

Sounds of battle resounded off the cave walls, reverberating and echoing, tangling into a cacophony of shouts and explosions. Moaning dead rose up to join in as Belle fought her way through the horde. Her pink crowbar lashed out, knocking them aside. The undead didn't scare her: she had died once already.

The white wolfess cheering them on, Belle broke through to the other side. The rest of the group was already engaged, humans - one blonde, one ashen - assaulting the Warlock as those not fighting the zombies closed in from the flanks.

"Enough!" The Warlock bellowed. His feet left the ground an instant before the air around him curdled, glowing a coronal blue. He exploded.

Belle hit the deck, covering herself as the blast crashed across the cave. Ears ringing, she pushed to her feet, half-staggering half-running towards the floating magic wielder.

Her crowbar whipped. A flash, a clang of steel as a gleaming sword stood in her way. With a smirk, the man's fingers tightened around the hilt and finished drawing the blade in a flourish, forcing her back.

"Why retreat?" Blade held vertically in front of him, the mage's grin widened. "Don't tell me you're scared now, little girl."

Teeth gritted, Belle rushed back in. The warlock's sword dipped to the side and arced, but she was faster. The edge of the blade ground against the crowbar, shooting sparks as Belle closed close enough to see the magic user's surprised expression. Her shoulder slammed into his chest, knocking him off balance before she buried her fist into his face.

The warlock spun, tumbling through the air before regaining control. "You," he spat, eyes veined with rage and frustration.

The others had recovered. Two men as one wrapped their hands around his ankles and spun. They flipped, tucked, then released, hurling him towards the waiting Mickey, Magus, Ururu, and Crowley. Their attacks connected with a peal of thunder.

He was surrounded on all sides, whirling like a dervish between them, his blade moving with unnatural speed to ward off their attacks.

"Shouldn't you all be killing each other?!" he growled. He raised his sword.

Mickey's shield struck first, crumpling the warlock's frame. The robes folded... Then collapsed into an oily wisp of smoke.

"Like I said," the voice roared overhead. "I'm tired of this."

Belle looked up. Her heart sank in her chest.

The warlock's arms were raised, sword tucked into the sash of his robes. Fire glowed, roiling between his fingertips in an expanding sphere. "I'll kill all of you myself! I'll-"

"You can do it!"

Amaterasu's voice cleaved through the warlock's. The robed man visibly twitched. "But ... you ... first!" He turned, leaned back, the fire following his hands. He threw them forward.

Speed like never before carried her legs, plowing through the remaining undead as the cave walls glowed orange.

Belle got there before the fireball. Even then, she didn't have enough time to pick up the girl and carry her to safety. Which left one stupid, crazy option.

"Burn in Hell, 'hero'!" the warlock cackled.

Clenching the straight end of the crowbar in two hands, Belle squared her stance, one leg forward. "Get behind me!" she barked to the girl. Her hips twisted, she wound up, and swung.

The magic of the Spirit's weapon clashed against the warlock's fire, glittering points of mana dimpling the sphere's surface as the curved head slammed home. Her arms vibrated as if she had just struck granite.

The ball reversed course, rocketing back upward towards its caster.

"Ah," the warlock mulled, almost speculatively. "Shit."