The Keepers of Chaos: A Vault of Hell

Victoro Cassalanter: CXLVII

The Difference: CXLVII

Victoro could not believe what he was seeing. The boy warlock named Herod was floating an inch off the ground, his sword could transform at will, and he currently seemed to be encased in two blessings. A green blessing lighting coated his skin, the cloak the boy was wearing had transformed into a darker dusty color, with a large green symbol burned into its back. However, all the other changes seemed small and pointless compared to the most recent. Victoro raised his new rapier, getting out a few short ragged breaths, he was tired, beat, and unsure what to do next- damnit. He would have the power he sought! And save his children! Blood leaked from the top of his left eye which he quickly smeared away. What was that.. What was that mask?

Herod's shining sword paled in comparison with the red aura crackling around his body. Over the warlock's face was an ornate covering which could not have existed. Its top half was black though surrounded with red energy, and it resembled the face of a wolf just without the nose. Instead, the nose was cut off by the bottom half; a golden crimson bathed human jawbone. The entire thing was slightly translucent letting him see the green eyes under the helm. Where did it come from? Was this the source of the new skills Herod boasted?

"Yes.." He muttered finally, taking the chance to breathe. It felt like he was fighting two figures in one. He backed away slowly on the balcony edging ever close to the archway behind him. Herod was stood directly in front of him, behind the warlock was the upright gasping figure of Alekzandr. "I did kill your friend. Warlock." Warlock, that was all he could call this.. Thing. It was outrageous! The implications the man tried to make, calling himself a champion? Like a god would make a bastard child, born to nothing a champion?! It was inconceivable.

He did not want to admit it, the sensations in his bones, but even without this new blessing, Victoro had felt himself reaching the limit of his own strength. What overwhelming power this was.. It was taxing to even stand in its presence.

Herod didn't give him any more time to speak. The warlock charged swinging both blades in hand. In the distance, he could hear slight muttering from the bastard. What the hell was he talking to? His sword?!

Victoro tossed his cane up grabbing it by its end he attempted to swat at the warlocks head. He needed to win. He needed to win now! He channeled his divine smite into it, Asmodeus had given him power!

"Ha!" The short sword beat away his attack like it was nothing. That unnerving vibrating voice sent chills into his bones. He backed up, even more, taking his first step into the hallway. Six years at the academy had taught him he was the best! The greatest duelist of the last century. But it seemed irrelevant in the face of this.. Insanity. Herod charged, swinging his swords like a mad demon. With every strike, Victoro felt less and less like he was fighting the warlock but instead some odd incarnation of death itself- had.. Had another god blessed this man? He racked his mind.. Yallah had claimed the Ever'reiyn attempted some prayer.. Could.. No. It couldn't be.

The strikes felt no more powerful than before, not whatsoever, yet oddly it only seemed as if the Warlock's skill had improved swinging the blades like he had trained a lifetime with them.

With a whirlwind of attacks, he could no longer keep up. "Do you know the difference between us?!" Herod cackled happily. Victoro shoved his sword up for a strike. They spun around together, one blow traded, another one drew blood. *Evcsseeshnk* He stabbed at the leg and was parried. Victoro was stabbed in the chest when he failed to block another blow. One after another. The dimly lit hallway started to envelop them both. He would run. He would succeed, he could succeed! Victoro stomped his cane against the ground, summoning a tidal wave of fire. "Yeah nope! I'm done with that!"