Inferno Ascended

The vselys looked Glax up and down again, focusing mostly on the weapon in his hand. The bluish micro-serrated blade vibrated subtly, Glax could feel it through the cold shaft in its firm grip.

"Oh. A special weapon. Maybe it evens things out, it'll be fun." Damiamon Oefer gave a smug smile.

Glax wasn't so sure. He should mostly not hurt himself with his own weapon. It would not only be pathetic, but literally mortal.

But he didn't reply to the vselys' teasing. The Valosian preferred to save his breath as he would really have to fight. 

When Damiamon, with a predatory smile on his face, took a few steps to the side, stepping sideways with two long swords in hand, Glax did the same to the opposite side. 'Let's dance!'

Even though Glax was very attentive to Damiamon, his mind wandered for a moment to a piece of important information. 

He must be stronger than an ordinary Stygian, Glax thought, remembering Malko. The vselys also must be really good if he could fight with two long swords. One of them was slightly curved while the other was more triangular and a few centimeters smaller.

Damiamon kept one above his eye line and the other guarding at solar plexus level. 

Glax chose not to be the first to attack, and kept the scythe lower, thinking that maneuvering it from the bottom up and in sweeping motions would be easier and more doable than using it raised and pointing down, as a classic spear.

Mors, within range, frowned at his choice. Glax wasn't even sure if the spell that bound them wouldn't simply entangle Mors into this fight, but, hell, it was Death. 

He definitely should have set the terms of the duel so it was firearms, but he forgot that part until it was too late.

Damiamon was patiently threatening the Echelian's side; his gaze never really on the scythe blade or Glax's face, but on the line of his opponent's shoulders. 

Glax reacted quickly to the vselys' first attempt to break through his guard. His torso went all the way forward, twisted, as he made an upward wedge motion with the shaft of the scythe.

Damiamon parried, as predicted with the other sword. Almost simultaneously, he lunged into a fast swoop, making a diagonally descending semicircle with the curved sword, while the other sword thrust straight, aiming Glax's chest.

The lunge missed him by millimeters. Glax took clumsy steps backward and managed to parry the blow from above.

Glax felt the pressure of the vselys' strength downwards. He pushed back with all the strength he had, knowing he couldn't prolong a tug of war with Damiamon.

To his surprise, he managed to push the man away, and he pulled the scythe back quickly, backing away as far as he could to gain some breath. Was he this strong? Was Damiamon not the superb adversary Mors told them about?

Or was something that changed about himself?

Damiamon didn't give him time for catching a breath, though.

A sequence of blows that Glax barely had time to defend knocked the Valosian warrior to the ground.

In a rush, Glax thrust the scythe between the vselys's legs, ready to blow it upwards as violently as he could. 

Their eyes met, and Glax smiled, in the microsecond, between their next moves. 

Damiamon leapt forward and against Glax's body, to both destabilize him and escape from becoming a eunuch. 

While Glax, for the first time, managed to concentrate enough to use his time-bending power.

In the brief span of time, he intended to change places just a few inches. So that Damiamon would never really free himself from the scythe blade rising inexorably to his lower parts. 

He started by positioning himself away from Damiamon's descending blade, which was advancing towards him. As Glax changed the future, which was easier than bending the past, he encountered a strange enigma.

There was a powerful 'antitime aura' around the vselys. Thin and invisible, but very difficult to go through.

'DAFUQ!"

He felt a bang in the middle of his forehead, which made everything suddenly dark.

"WHO ARE YOU?!" shouted the vselys, eyes bulging in surprise and confusion, his swords back in a defensive position. 

Glax was falling backward, having brought the pommel of Damiamon's sword right in the middle of his forehead, over the metal plate that protected his nose. 

He didn't intend to be helpless again and used his power again, breaking his own fall and positioning himself defensively in front of the vselys.

Given the slight disturbance that Glax's miscalculation caused, the Valosian decided to seize his only chance and lunged with all his might towards the vselys' face. 

His guard wasn't so alert and the vselys only stopped the scythe by using both blades against the hilt when the outer curve of Mors's scythe was just inches from his face. Death's weapon cut the red end of his braid like butter.

The vselys grimaced fiercely as he turned his chin and saw his braid flying in front of his eyes.

Was it Glax's impression, or had the owner of the scythe been elated by the maneuver? The Valosian didn't have time to check.

Damiamon again used his superior strength and technique in a violent and sequential attack against the Echelian hero, without letting emotion get in the way, this time.

Glax used his power at least three times to dodge. At least he could use time manipulation on himself, although he had little time to work on anything sophisticated or even think about what to do.

He hardly believed he had survived this duel for well over a few seconds. 

Adrenaline made him bold. Glax again used the scythe in a semi-circle upwards movement. His diagonal thrust intended to disarm the pointed sword, and perhaps hit the vselys's arm.

But the vselys easily trapped the scythe between his two swords, in a move that fully spun his body. Inertia helped him snatch the divine object from Glax's grasp.

Damiamon stopped a few feet from Glax, and after spitting on the ground once more, asked, this time with Glax's weapon.

"Are you fucking deaf?! Who are you?"

After catching his breath, and thinking quickly, Glax knew one more wrong answer and he would definitely pay a visit to Old Hell with Mors. Although he had been thrilled that he wasn't pathetically humiliated and killed as he'd expected, the outcome of the duel was skewed to one side at all times.

"I thought you knew. I am Glax de Valosia, Champion of the Armoric Games, Etc Etc. And a vselys, like you."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Mors approaching, just as Alexandre was running to them. He looked his opponent in the eye. "Leave the boy out of this."

"The fucking hell you are. You are NOT a vselys."

"I am a vselys. I was born in Valya. I came to this land in Argos II. If that's what you want to know." 

He noticed the veins in Damiamon's jaw pumping while his mind was in overdrive. Alexander reached his side and Glax nodded to the other vselys.

"You are worthy. You have beat me and you have good technique. You have something to teach me, and you could be my master."

The boy looked like he had more adrenaline in his bloodstream than his body could handle, and nodded vehemently. "Yes, foreigner warrior! You are good and could be my master's master! That way I could learn too!"

Mors sighed, "What do the Echelians' goats eat? The milk they drink may be the cause..."

"Hm, what?!" It didn't seem like Damiamon was listening. He casually strapped the weapons to his hips and said,

"I didn't realize 'that' kid was in Valosia."

"Everyone knows I was in Valosia. Where were you? Were you on the Argos II?"

"No. I came much earlier. At the beginning." His gaze passed over Mors, to the Valya's Cauldron. And then returned to Glax. "Being born in Valya as a human doesn't justify what you can do."

Glax grinned and cast a sidelong glance at Alexander, hoping the vselys would understand. "Whatever it is, it looks like it's in the blood."

Damiamon didn't talk about it anymore. "You could have said this before. You almost died."

"I would have missed the opportunity to duel the famous Damiamon Oefer," Glax praised the warrior shamelessly. He intended to use this reverse of fate to finally have the answers he sought.

"Ha." The man huffed, crouching down and picking up his cut braid from the ground. "You pay me for this."

"Oh please. It was an accident."

Mors interrupted. "Give me back my scythe."

Alexandre opened a smile, and turned to the god. "Now I know who you are…"

"Good for you. When we meet again, it won't even be a novelty."

Alexandre stopped smiling at the answer.

Damiamon examined the scythe in detail, to the agony of Mors who had his fingers fluttering to get his work tool back. Finally, the vselys handed the weapon to Glax, who handed it back to Death.

"It was an honor, Mors. Thanks."

"I was just trying to speed things up." Mors made a mocking grimace of disdain.

"I know. But you rooted for me, I saw it." Glax teased.

"Shut up."

"It's gonna rain soon.. If romance can wait, can we have a little chat at my house on top of the hill?" Damiamon asked, dusting off his clothes.