Cambions. Half-human, half-demon creatures that have existed since the time humans could be tempted and tormented by the demonic. They are a paradoxical species; both spiritual and physical. Their nature as dualistic creatures prevents them from taking on a uniform shape and identity. This conflict, along with their demonic heritage, grants Cambions a powerful tool only available to the Gods: shapeshifting. Their ability to alter their shape gives them unparalleled stealth and makes it easy to travel and settle in places to make their homes. Because of this ability, no two Cambions look the same or may even recognize each other. The one thing they all have in common, though, is the necessity to feed on souls. The facet of their being that grants them power also prevents them from forming a proper soul. Without a soul, an identity cannot be maintained, and the Cambion will eventually fade away, its body returning to dust. To maintain an existence, Cambions must feed on the energy generated by living souls, whether they be human or divine. Some actively hunt, while others just passively feed on crowds. It's for this reason that Cambions are incredibly dangerous in small communities and vice versa. Many stay in large cities where they can blend in better. Others, like Saint Germain, trick people into entering their homes via false tales of treasure or things, akin to a spider's web. Unlike Demi-gods and Nephilim, beings born from the physical unions of Humans with Gods and Angels, Cambion are instead born from the act of feeding. Incubi and Succubi, demons who feed on sexual energy while their prey sleep, will sometimes create Cambions due to the mingling of their energies caused by feeding. They are not physically born either, but rather just 'appear' into existence and become an afterthought to their 'parents.'
To put it briefly, they are unplanned, undefined, parasitic, manipulative, and feared monsters. Saint Germain could not deny Nuada's words. A miserable life indeed. However, though all the above is true, the beauty and light that radiated from one soul changed his path forever, turning just another Cambion into something greater than thought possible. Now that lying Cambion, full existence exposed, was ready to fight for the species that once spurned him, to keep his promise to a friend.
"ACTION!"
Saint Germain and Nuada dashed towards each other. Nuada performed a horizontal slash. Saint Germain jumped and spun over Nuada, gracefully dodging the cut. Landing on his feet, he twisted his shadowy body and fired a left straight. Nuada's eyes shone, and he ducked under the punch. He swiped Fragarach above his head; Saint Germain pulled his arm back and swiped Nuada's feet with his enlarged right hand. Nuada jumped and spun in the air to avoid it and face his opponent, but Saint Germain brought his right hand back and threw it up against Nuada as a backhand strike. Nuada blocked his strike with his arms, but the blow sent him straight up into the air. Saint Germain reached up and grabbed Nuada's right leg with his left and swung him straight down into the mud face-first. The impact threw mud and water in all directions. Saint Germain, still holding onto Nuada, tossed him into the air and fired a short right uppercut. The blow found home in Nuada's upside-down torso. Saint Germain did not let up. He brought down a chopping left, crashing into Nuada's chin and slamming him back into the mud. He bounced off the ground, twisted in the air, and landed back on his feet. Saint Germain was already in front of him and slammed his right fist into Nuada's ribs. Nuada instinctively braced against the attack and swiped horizontally to counter. Saint Germain ducked the slash and followed up with a dual-blow to both sides of Nuada's ribs. Nuada felt his ribs creak and crack. Saint Germain roared. He fired off a flurry of left and right blows. Nuada blocked a few and even continued to swipe away at Saint Germain, but Saint Germain was far more agile than his larger frame suggested.
How damn fast is he!? Nuada thought.
Saint Germain ducked under another slash and kicked Nuada's feet out from under him with his left leg. Using the momentum of the leg sweep, Saint Germain spun and jumped in the air and slammed his left foot into Nuada's chest mid-fall, sending him flying into a nearby wooden house. The wall shattered from the impact, and Saint Germain jumped in after him. Fragarach's edge was barely a centimeter from his head. Nuada had thrown it at Saint Germain shortly after he broke through the wall. Saint Germain leaned back and ducked under it, sliding on the wet wood floor. Mid-slide, he brought his feet back under him and twisted his body to the right, preparing to strike.
It was here that Nuada made his play. True to its name, the Retaliator, Fragarach grew sharper the more damage Nuada suffered. What was not shown through clever use of random timing and control was that Fragarach returns faster as well. The blade immediately changed direction and flew right back towards Nuada and Saint Germain. The blade spun faster than ever before. The timing was perfect. The built-up damage put Fragarach leagues above any level it was before. Speed and sharpness are at their zenith. It spun so quickly that it even began to light up due to heat from air friction. Another powerful technique that solidified Nuada's reputation.
Fáinne Airgid.
The blade was right behind Saint Germain and flew right at his neck. The blade… cut the air. Saint Germain had jumped and grasped the ceiling with his clawed toes. For a brief moment, he hung upside-down, his punch still armed. With a fierce twist, He fired that punch straight into Fragarach. He struck its flat. The blow slammed the blade into the ground, and it bounced off, spinning and flying out of the building as it cut through the wall.
Nuada was dumbfounded. Not once, but twice, was Fragarach deflected by this being. The event was so unexpected, so ridiculous in theory, that his train of thought derailed. He failed to notice the left blow flying down. It struck the top of his head, throwing him straight down, and his body crumbled. Fragarach flew back into the building, cutting through the wall and landing in front of the downed Nuada, its handle next to his right hand.
Saint Germain dropped from the low ceiling in front of Nuada. He scanned his opponent, stomping down on Fragarach. Nuada was barely breathing and near-unconscious.
"You know what I am, but fail to understand. It's normal." Saint Germain said. "I am a Cambion. I can passively absorb life energy from those around me. That energy comes from the soul, which houses who you are. I learned how to use that gift to take memories, appearances, skills, and secrets from my prey. After all, you are what you eat. And from you, I gathered quite a bit of info, but still not what I seek. Like eating away at a meal while blindfolded, you can't tell what you ate until you bite right in. Fortunately, in your dying breath, I will have full access to your mind and knowledge." Saint Germain lifted Nuada and propped him against the wall. "I will not kill such a radiant soul like a dog. You will die on your feet like a warrior." Saint Germain focused; his large arms shrank and thinned. Two sharp points replaced his oversized arms. "He will be safe, Nuada." Saint Germain reared back his left spear-hand and stabbed. I'm coming, Arthur. I'll be there soon!
Ancient Eire
"Boy! Where are you!?" Nuada shouted as he stood in the middle of a forest wearing only his blue shirt and a pair of brown shorts. The sun shone through the branches above, dotting the ground with light. As he moved, some beams would hit his metallic left arm and reflect off onto the trees and brush. "Boy, if you don't come out, I will be forced to use drastic measures!" Nuada smiled as he spoke. No one responded. His eyes glowed, and the vision from above entered his mind. He walked slowly through the trees, keeping an eye on himself from above. He expanded the view, trying to find any sign of motion. "Lugh! You got ten seconds!" Ten…" Nuada saw some branches shaking at eleven o'clock. He walked slowly towards it. "Nine…" A branch a few meters further away in the same direction shook. "Eight…" Another. Nuada immediately dashed towards the tree of the last branch. He placed his left shoulder out in front and slammed into the large, multi-story tree. A small dent appeared on the large tree, but it shook violently. Someone in the branches started grunting and tumbling through the branches, bumping against them as they fell. A young figure fell out of the tree, scrambling to try and grab a branch.
"Aaaaaaah!" The young God screamed! Nuada quickly climbed up the tree. He was right up the middle of the bare trunk when his Silver Arm reached out and grabbed the young boy mid-fall. "Aaaaah…crud." Nuada held himself on the tree with his right hand gripping the tree bark. He stared mockingly at the young redhead held up by the back of his green shirt, his brown eyes full of dread.
Lugh
(Celtic Pantheon)
"Hey Uncle…" Lugh said, dejected.
"Hey, buddy. Weren't you told not to climb these trees?" Nuada said, smiling.
"Yes…"
"Your father is going to be upset about this."
Lugh pouted. "He'll also be upset at you about the fact that you dented the tree and damaged the bark," Lugh said.
"Ah…yes, he would," Nuada said. "Still, if I didn't, poor li'l Lugh would fall and go splat!"
"I would have been fine!"
"Yeah, yeah, sure…" Nuada lifted Lugh over his head and set him on his back. Lugh wrapped his arms and legs around his uncle's back as Nuada re-established his grip. Lugh caught a weird scent on his Uncle. "Let's make a deal. I won't tell on you if you don't tell on me. Deal?" Nuada started his climb down.
"Deal!" Lugh said. Nuada climbed down the tree. He flinched a little here or there and would fake losing his grip. Lugh did not appreciate it. "Stop that!"
"But you like climbing trees! You also said you'd be fine if you fell!" Lugh went silent, his face turned a bright red. "It's bad to tell lies, Lugh." Lugh stayed silent the rest of the climb down. Once Nuada touched ground, Lugh jumped off his back. "So, do you know why I came to get you?"
"No, Sir," Lugh said, looking away.
"Lugh…" Nuada glared down at his nephew. Lugh fidgeted a little.
"I'm supposed to be training with Grandpa Dian Cecht…"
"Exactly. You know you're supposed to learn medicine along with combat and arts."
"But it's boring!"
"But important." Nuada began walking back into the forest, Lugh trailing behind him. "Through combat, you learn to protect and kill. Through art, you learn to create. Through medicine-"
"You learn to preserve." Lugh continued half-heartedly. Nuada turned around and gave a light poke with his left hand to Lugh's forehead.
"And that's the most important. Were it not for your grandpa, I would not have this." Nuada pointed to his Silver Arm. "This place would not be in such a state were it not for his ability to save my life and make this arm. However…" He leaned in to Lugh. "Between you and me, I'm going to talk to the Greeks and get this thing upgraded. Heard there's a God there who knows his way around mechanics and smithing like no one else in Valhalla. However, we cannot let Dian Cecht know about that! Guy's got a chip on his shoulder the size of a mountain." Nuada laughed a little. "I digress, Lugh. You need to put in the effort. Even if this stuff comes naturally to you. Talent and ability mean nothing without character and the discipline that comes with it."
Lugh looked at his Great-Great-Uncle with a bored and annoyed expression. He then shook his head. "Yes, Sir…but that means I now know two things that would get you in trouble."
Nuada smiled. "Yes, but I know you're a fibber. If I get back there first and tell everyone you were doing something wrong first, who would they believe?" Nuada then broke into a sprint, laughing on the way.
"No fair, Uncle!" Lugh screamed, running after him. Nuada soon vanished from Lugh's sight. Lugh sped up and tried to reach him, but he never saw him; the familiar smell from Nuada wafted throughout the area around him. The forest began to clear away, and Lugh found himself in the open field between the forest and Nuada's castle, the stone garrisons standing out amongst the hills. He looked around, trying to find Nuada, but he was nowhere to be found. Suddenly, something moved in the forest behind him. He turned to look, but didn't see anything. "Uncle?" Lugh said. The air grew silent around him. He slowly stepped away from the forest. Nothing responded. "…U-uncle?" A figure then dropped down from one of the nearby trees, and it sprang up.
"Boo!" Nuada said. Lugh screamed, jumped, tumbled back, and fell. Nuada laughed as he walked towards the boy, but his fun got cut short. Lugh was crying.
"That…that wasn't funny, Uncle!" Lugh said, tears dropping down.
Nuada sighed. He went too far. "I'm sorry, boy." Nuada scooped him up in his arms in a big hug. "There, there. Let's go home." Lugh clung to his uncle as Nuada patted his head. He carried the boy home, holding him all the way. Lugh looked back at the forest as the breeze headed their way. That was when he saw something. Smelled something. His senses were already better than Nuada knew, and despite the older God's efforts to hide it, Lugh could see it.
Bodies. Several bodies sprawled out within the forest, some human-shaped and some otherworldly. All of them were butchered and dismembered all over the forest, save for the path he and Nuada ran through. He now understood what the scent was. Blood. Blood and death. That smell wafted into the air from the woods. The same smell that was on his Uncle. Lugh would never forget that day. The day he recklessly wandered into the woods unsupervised. The forest was filled with Fomorians who discovered his presence and tried to find him. That…and how thorough his Uncle was in ensuring his safety and innocence. Lugh also did not know the sheer relief his Uncle felt knowing he was safe. Such a relief it was, he did not mind getting an earful from Lugh's Father Cian and Grandfather, as well as Nuada's nephew, Dian Cecht.
Huh. Remembered that for a second. Where am I again? Nuada thought. Everything came into focus. Saint Germain thrusted his left hand at Nuada's skull. Nuada swats it to his right with Argetlam. Saint Germain pulled his left back and fired his right. Nuada parried it to the left. Ah. Fighting. Wait…Ragnarök. Right. Saint Germain stabbed once more with his left and right hands. Nuada swats them both away with Argetlam. I'm fighting this guy. Four more blows were thrown in quick succession, all blocked by Nuada without moving from his spot. Each blow pierced into the wood behind him, each one capable of killing him. Saint Germain continued his assault, aiming for Nuada's head, shoulders, torso, and neck. He slowed down, sped up, and even threw in feints. The wall behind Nuada soon filled with holes, save for the space behind Nuada. Lugh's watching, too. Forgot how much of a crybaby he was. Ha! Still is. That also reminds me... Nuada parried another right blow to the outside. Saint Germain's desperation became apparent despite his emotionless face. Hopefully Dian Cecht won't be too pissed me. Nuada reached down to his scabbard. He clicked it off his belt, flicking it up so he grasped the pointed end. Saint Germain's left blade sprouted four more spears.
"Die, damn you!" Saint Germain roared. He thrust his left hand with all his strength. Nuada slipped to the right, the hand clipping his shoulder and drawing blood. He pinched his scabbard's point in between his fingers and thrusted it into Saint Germain's stomach. As he pushed it, the scabbard pushed back into his hand due to resistance from Saint Germain's iron-like torso. As it did, a small gap appeared in Nuada's palm, growing bigger and bigger the further the scabbard went in. Nuada pushed his arm forward until the entire scabbard inserted into his forearm, the point pushing out a metal jut from his elbow that tore through the sleeve. The forearm expanded outward and fanned, forming a makeshift shield, tearing through the remains of his sleeve and splitting his bracer off his arm. Nuada's palm meshed with the scabbard and rested on Saint Germain's torso. Five protrusions in a star formation popped out at the joint. All five shot forward into Nuada's arm. Nuada twisted to the right, his palm accelerating into Saint Germain. The force of the blow lifted Saint Germain off his feet, his torso rocketed forward as his limbs and head flailed behind him. Saint Germain slammed into the connecting edge of the ceiling and wall, and it gave way. He continued to fly into the rain-filled air, splintered wood surrounding him, his body spasming from the pain. He descended back to solid ground with a loud crash, mud and water flying away.
"Argetlam Réalt!"
The audience watching the event gasped. Nuada's newly transformed self shone brightly amidst the rainfall and mud, his silver eyes ignited in concert with the new weapon.
"That ungrateful old man!" A voice shouted from the audience. It was immediately shushed before further expletives could be said. No one would tolerate the interruption. The source, an irritated-looking blonde God with silver eyes who would later be identified as Dian Cecht, jumped from his seat and left.
"Ha! About damn time he did that!" Spoke a bearded, dark-haired God. He sat in the center of a massive workshop, walls lined with tools of varying sizes, eras, and origins, banging away at a flat piece of metal he held in place with clamps over a large anvil. His large toga-covered frame betrayed by the grace with which he swung his hammer, his soft red eyes watching the screen above him as he worked. He didn't even need to look at his work to know where to hit, the number of strikes, or the power he needed. It was near automatic for him. He could watch the fight and work without issue. "Asks for upgrades, but asks them not to be available until near death. Who does that anymore?"
Hephaestus
God of Fire, Smithing, and Volcanoes
(Greek Pantheon)
Crunching noises came from below the screen. "Old dudes who think ending a fight early is too good for them." The source, a young raven-haired girl, said, digging her hand into a bag of Buddha Chips while lying on a fluffy, ornate couch. Her skinny frame in blue flame-printed pajamas, along with the couch, contrasted heavily with the workshop.
Pandora
Daughter of Hephaestus
(Greek)
"Nah. Nuada's never been like that. Sure, he likes fighting, but when it comes to killing, he's a whole different beast. Purely methodical, efficient, and brutal." Hephaestus said. "Sure am glad he's getting a chance right now to use the upgrades I made to that arm and sword of his."
"Really? You never cared before if people saw your work."
"Still don't. People know great works when they see them, so I never have to try. Yet that Saint Germain guy is stupid strong enough that he's forcing Nuada to use them. He specifically asked for them to deal with Balor, a monster on par with Zeus and Hades, and the Fomorians. Time to see if they're worth it."
"CUT!"
The rain immediately stopped. The muddy town vanished, and the two returned to the white void. Saint Germain slowly got to his feet and stared directly at Nuada. "Göndul, it's time." Saint Germain said, his voice still reverberating, but now a low, gentle purr.
"Of course," Göndul said, appearing next to the phantom. "It's time to show them your star-making role, after all."
"Ah yes, and you, my leading lady," Saint Germain looked over to her. "made this all possible. We shall walk down the red carpet for this one." Göndul blushed and smiled. Saint Germain looked back at Nuada. "You ready for my greatest role!? My Magnum Opus!?" Nuada stared right back at him. He reached out his hand, and Fragarach flew into it.
"I am nothing but ready!" Nuada yelled, smiling. He stretched out his arms to his sides, Fragarach in hand. He then stabbed it right into his left palm, sliding smoothly into the embedded scabbard. He twisted the sheathed sword clockwise, and clicking sounds began to fill the air around his hand. Something snapped into place, and the rest reset into proper order. Nuada pulled the handle away from his palm, light erupting within the space between them. Once he stretched his hands out again, he pulled the radiant blade away from his left, flourished it, and held it upwards. "Fragarach Cóiméad! Behold Saint Germain, the union of Celtic and Greek Smithing! My ultimate shield AND my ultimate sword! I hope your Magnum Opus can handle them!"
"That and more!" He breathed deeply as a small red light started to shine from within his chest. It swam from there up to his right shoulder, then down his arm. It began to seep out of his shadowy flesh, revealing a circular red stone. Metal expanded from it and clasped around Saint Germain's wrist. Purple fabric began forming from the watch and covered Saint Germain's arm, his hand regaining its human color. Brown leather appeared after and wrapped around Saint Germain's hand and forearm, creating a fingerless glove. Both colors travelled up and enveloped his body; purple covering his whole frame save for his shadowy head to become form-fitting robes with a pale-blue trim on the fabric around his chest, and brown enveloping his hands, waist, and feet to form another glove, a brown cloth belt, and leather sandals. His head regained its human shape, and his white hair returned, but slicked back and unkempt. His piercing blue eyes reformed, but his human face was different. Aged, angular, and oddly sinister, his long, crooked nose jutted out like a crow's beak. He smiled as he grasped his watch in his left hand, and it shone brighter than ever before.
VÖLUND RE-CAST!
A long wooden staff encased at both ends in silver erupted from his hand, the red light and stone soaring above him and implanted in the staff's end.
Staff of the Sage
He took the staff in his left hand, smiling all the while. "What do you think? Got to see my true side first and now my best side!" Saint Germain said.
Nuada's eyes widened. A small smile crept on his face, and he started to chuckle. Before long, he began to laugh. Louder and louder than he had in a long time. It was as if all the tense energy in his body vanished. "Well, what do you know!? Never thought I'd see the day I not only fought a Cambion, but the most famous of them all!" Nuada pointed Fragarach Cóiméad at Saint Germain. "What a damn good day it is to fight you, Myrddin."
Myrddin
(Wales)
A massive surge of murderous aura flooded out from Set's box. Set clamped down onto his chair's armrests, his fingers piercing into them. He began to shake, and his eyes dilated.
NO! NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO!
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
WHY IS HE HERE!? HE'S SUPPOSED TO BE DEAD! HOW IS HE ALIVE!? Set screamed in his head. His inner voice was panicking at the revelation.
Calm down! Just because he's here doesn't mean anything! The deeper voice said.
You damn fool! It means everything! The higher, manic voice screamed.
Trust Nuada to kill him! If he succeeds, then it's another problem dealt with without effort on our part!
He damn well better, the snarky old bastard!
"Set," Zeus said. "You're ruining the mood."
The aura immediately vanished. Set loosened his grip on the armrests, breathed deeply, and sat back.
"How much power do we have, Göndul?" Myrddin asked.
"Fifty percent as planned." She answered.
"Spectacular. Let's play like the good ole' days."
"Ladies and Gentlemen, we are reaching the climax of Round Five! We've gone into Martial Arts, Space Opera, and now Cosmic Horror! Are you ready!?" Heimdall shouted. "This next Scene is a personal favorite of mine! Get ready for…" The void surrounding the two fighters flooded with color once more. Green, brown, and grey covered the floor, giving shape to grass, jutting rocks, and rolling hills. Blue and grey shot out overhead, painting a sky and numerous clouds above them. Brisk winds began to blow as the sun in the distance began to set, bringing in dusk. The final battleground for these two, one where they both fit the scene and felt the most at home, finally arrived "…HIGH FANTASY!"
Nuada placed his shield-arm out in front, his sword held parallel to his body with the point towards Myrddin. Myrddin took his staff in both hands, aiming the stone's point at Nuada.
"ACTION!" Nuada, Myrddin, and the voice shouted.
Nuada ran towards Myrddin, kicking up dirt and grass with every heavy step. Air displaced around him as he ran. Myrddin waved his staff at the ground and began hopping back. At each hop, a stone wall jutted out of the earth, each one tall and wide enough to obscure his presence. Nuada's smirk grew wide and manic. He kicked harder than before and sailed straight towards the walls. His arm collided and broke through. His sprint went unimpeded. His eyes glowed once more, and he took in his surroundings. He broke through the last wall, ready to slash away. Myrddin was nowhere to be found. He scanned from above and around. Nowhere.
Wait. Energy crackled above him. He looked up and saw Myrddin floating above him. His staff pointed down straight at Nuada as energy crackled from the red stone. He knows the range of Sight From Heaven!?
"Mellt!" Myrddin shouted. Lightning fired from his staff, arching into multiple bolts of energy aimed straight for Nuada.
"Figuring out one trick doesn't mean you know the outcome!" Nuada slashed his sword. The radiant blade made contact with one of the bolts and severed it, causing it to sputter out of existence before it could reach Nuada. Nuada cut at the other bolts, snuffing them out before they could reach him. Nuada threw his sword into the air above him and clenched his fist. The blade of light extended several meters and spun, forming into a large disk heading straight for Myrddin.
This thing can cut lightning and extend!? I call a foul! Myrddin joked in his thoughts. He floated back out of the way of the blade's radius and flew back down to earth. Nuada lowered his fist, aiming it at Myrddin. Fragarach curved in the air and flew back…towards Myrddin. Myrddin caught the blade in his sight and sank into the ground, the blade carving out the field where he stood. Nuada unclenched his fist, and Fragarach sailed back around towards him. A few meters before it reached him, several columns of stone shot out of the ground diagonally towards Nuada. He stepped forward and punched one with his left arm, smashing through the top and remaining unmoved as he destroyed the rest of the column as it continued to collide with his arm. The other columns flew past him, sailed into the air, and changed trajectory. They curved in the air and headed back to Nuada. The five rods extended out of Nuada's left arm as Fragarach Cóiméad soared back into his free right hand. Nuada sprinted towards the ballistic columns. The first one sailed straight for him. He stabbed Fragarach Cóiméad to intercept the column and extended the blade. Light pierced the column, disintegrating it. Nuada stuck Argetlam Réalt behind him and towards the ground, the five rods slamming back into his elbow. A powerful burst of air fired him forward into the air diagonally, kicking up the ground below him. Another column tried to collide with him, but it met his sword's point and crumbled. The other three columns slammed into the earth and crumbled. Mid-fall Nuada engaged the rods once more, sucking in air into his palm and pressurizing it and stared straight down. He anticipated something. The lightning attack from Myrddin earlier was not purely out of luck. The stone columns from before continued the trend; attacks from above and below. The realization struck him as he descended.
Myrddin knew the weaknesses of Sight From Heaven; it cannot see directly below Nuada, could not see through things, and its range above Nuada was only twenty meters. Any attack within those blind spots spelled trouble. A massive pointed stone column erupted right below Nuada and skyrocketed towards him. He slashed down, bisecting it. He slashed again, erasing more. He could not erase more in time. He aimed Argetlam Réalt to his left and fired more air. It was enough to change his trajectory, the columns sailed past him. Not waiting for a second attack, Nuada slashed away at the columns as he fell, destroying them before they could take flight. He landed feet first and rolled. He got back to his feet and sprinted away, right as the area he landed exploded. As he ran, a chain of explosions followed his path, snaking behind him. Nuada began sweating and breathing heavily. The gap between him and the bursting ground began to shrink. He pulled more air into his arm and fired again. He sailed into the air and spun. He took his sword in both hands, concentrated, and raised it above him. Fragarach Cóiméad ignited into a massive column above him, the point obscured by the clouds above him. Nuada's smile grew manic once more, and he swung down. "Bolg Airgid!"
It was here that the audience came to understand a horrifying truth about Nuada. His less-than-magnificent presence, his short stature, his wry wit and tone, his near total disregard for decorum. All of these things were true. It was also true that no one dared to invade his realm after he reclaimed his crown. They heard, but never saw, what lengths he would go to protect the things that were precious to him. It was here and now with that single slash that the Monster of Eire showed why the unspoken axiom was spread among the upper echelons of Valhalla.
Stay out of Nuada's way, and stay out of Eire. The land below Nuada was gone. The clouds and air above it were gone. Everything the attack made contact with was gone. If it were a slash of normal focused light, it would at least burn and melt the ground and walls of the deep chasm. Nay, Fragarach Cóiméad was not a normal sword. Was it something more intense than sunlight? Nay! The sword's blade was pure Mana, the energy of the soul and the building blocks of creation. When focused, it can cut through anything, even energy. The chasm created by the slash was smooth; no cracks forming, no debris. It was as if someone took a giant eraser, glided it across the land, and removed everything in its path. The open space formed a vacuum, and sucked Nuada down. Nuada quickly armed Argetlam once more and fired it, flying to his right. He landed on the ground next to the chasm and surveyed the area around him while air flew into the chasm.
"Don't tell me that got you, Myrddin!" Nuada shouted while breathing heavily, his voice echoing throughout the chasm. "The Heavens hunted you for centuries for your involvement in Winchester! Don't tell me that's what does you in!?" Nuada continued to scan the area, his brow covered in sweat. That last move was intended to eradicate armies. Using it here for one person would seem like overkill to the ignorant. However, Nuada knew. He knew how dangerous Myrddin was. He was someone you needed to see die to make sure he stayed dead.
Suddenly, the air flowing into the chasm intensified. "It didn't, you old fogey! Why don't you come down here and finish the job!?" Myrddin's voice echoed from the chasm. The wind continued to flow into the chasm. Nuada had two options: fight against the wind and stay by the cliff edge, or take the plunge.
"Be bad manners to keep you waiting! How can I be sure you're down there!?"
"You can't!" Myrddin said, laughing. Nuada joined in the mirthless merriment, laughing with abandon. He then gritted his teeth and jumped in, arming Argetlam Réalt mid-jump. The bottom of the chasm was dim, but not as dark as Nuada expected. Nuada could not pick up where Myrddin's voice came from, so he remained cautious. He continued to fall, spreading himself out to increase air resistance and slow his descent. The final stage of their battle was directly below him, but he doubted Myrddin would let him get there.
His eyes continued to shine, and he was eternally grateful for the power. The power was also more dynamic than Nuada showed, as Sight From Heaven is a misnomer. It sees from 'above' Nuada's whether he stood or lay down and looked down towards the area below his feet. In this case, the angle he held his body allowed him to see both walls of the chasm as he fell. It was then that he could see them. Circles began to carve into the walls, drawn by an unseen force. Suddenly, columns fired out of the walls at high speeds, straight for Nuada. Nuada leaned to the left, veering to the side as the column sped past him and slammed into the opposite wall. More circles began to form on the walls well below Nuada. "Well crap," Nuada said flatly. Dozens of columns erupted from the chasm walls. Nuada tilted his body in the air, trying to avoid the columns close by. Many of them below him had already reached the other side of the chasm. He leaned left, right, right, left, left, left once more. Each action kept him from colliding with the columns and splattering across the stone. He did not want to use Fragarach again until he reached the bottom; the last slash took an immense amount of his remaining stamina to perform.
He finally cleared through the columns and continued his descent, the light around him slowly dimming the deeper he went. Soon, the bottom came into view. He aimed Argetlam below him. He fired one rod into his arm. The blast pushed back against him. He fired another, slowing his descent. He continued this effort, managing to slow down just enough to land and create a small crater in the stone floor beneath him. He looked up, the opening of the chasm hundreds of meters above him. A red light erupted behind him, clashing with the white light of his sword. Myrddin stood several dozen meters away, smiling. "You did it. Cannot believe you took me at my word." Myrddin said, looking oddly touched.
"You've gone this far and showed me who you truly are. I can do that much at least." Nuada said, his gaze softening. "Still, you didn't make it easy. Did you know using Fragarach like this exhausts me?"
"Not at all. Had a hunch, but had to test it."
"Damn!" Nuada said, chuckling and snapping his metallic fingers. "Guess I can't let you get away anymore."
"Let me? Ha!" The light shrank and softened into a glow around the staff's stone tip. "Guess I still can't talk you into giving me the info? I'd dare to even give you the win."
The entire audience nearly went into an uproar. The human side began to shout at the dome and condemn Myrddin.
"Quit screwing around, old man!" One woman said.
"This is the end times for us! What's wrong with you!?" A man in the audience roared.
The Gods remained quiet. As much as Myrddin frustrated them, being given a win was a slap in the face to their pride.
"Nah. It's a good deal, but I'd rather kill you." Nuada said. "Sorry."
"Such a shame. Hope no offense taken. Fighting, you reminded me of better days and old friends, and that nostalgia made me offer you something insulting."
"None at all. You're just…" Nuada took his stance once more, raising his shield and sword, ready to charge. "Way too dangerous to be left alive."
Myrddin smiled. His eyes widened, and his irises shrank. "YOU'RE DAMN RIGHT I AM!" Myrddin slammed his staff into the ground, and the red stone ignited in brilliant, crackling energy. The ground between them began to glow and bubble. Göndul, I overplayed the last few moves. I'm sorry, but I need to end this here and now. In case it fails…Myrddin spoke in his mind.
Myrddin, go for it. I'm with you.
Myrddin fought back the urge to say more. For that brief single moment, a small but brief image popped into his head, and he hoped Göndul did not see it. He, as Myrddin, sitting in a field with Göndul, both watching over his friend Ythyr and his son from a distance, the young boy's light brunette hair contrasting with his father's flaming red. That single image struck his heart and nearly brought tears to how badly he wanted it. He never knew until that moment how much it meant to him. It would never be a reality, he knew. Yet, it did not stop him from wanting it.
A lie. A beautiful, unattainable lie. It was all he needed to push himself and prepare for this final attack. The columns above the two began to glow and melt. They broke away, falling towards them as a destructive shower of magma. The floor began to melt, giving way to magma that began to flood out onto the floor. A few sparse solid spaces between the two remained solid. Nuada's left arm extended the five rods once more. All five clicked and locked into place. His sword glowed brighter and brighter, the white light standing out against the magma's soft, orange glow and the staff's frantic red. Myrddin pointed his staff at Nuada. The stone began to hum a deep bass. Everything was ready.
Both old souls roared.
"Mudlosgi Maw'r Ddraig!" The magma below Nuada erupted below him, and the shower above rained down on his location. The smoldering rock became pointed and thin, bearing upon him. A powerful blast of burning energy shot forth from Myrddin's staff. A tri-pronged assault; below, above, and in front. A dragon's maw capable of tearing apart even the most ferocious deity. Nuada aimed his left hand behind him. The large extension housing his scabbard extended back, aligning with the five rods and locking into place.
"Pléasctha Airgid!" All six rods slammed back into Nuada's arm, pushing the compressed air out. Nuada felt the skin on his exposed face pull back from the speed he flew. The area around him became scalding, and the air was hard to breathe. He could feel his armor turning hot to the touch. The beam of energy soared straight at him. He swung his sword as he flew, making contact with the beam. Fragarach Cóiméad sliced through it as he soared and filled his ears with a harsh screech, but the ambient heat from the blast smashed into him, burning his exposed face and sword-hand, and his armor started to melt. He did not care. His attack maintained its trajectory and speed. The magma from below made contact with his legs, heating his armor and making it stick to him. He did not care, his silver eyes still full of life. Lugh! I may fall here today, but don't you ever forget! There will come times when you will face this very situation! Do not look away! Watch me, boy! Watch him! Watch and learn what you must do to protect what you love!
3….
Nuada continued to fly through the inferno, fighting against the heat and magma. All of this, all the pain, was within a single second. All of it. Nuada…sailed through the gap between the magma shower and eruption, still cutting through the beam. He glimpsed Myrddin's shocked face for just a millisecond.
2….
Myrddin tried to dodge, but the blade of Fragarach found its mark. The blade flew just below Myrddin's left arm, but was angled perfectly to catch the joint connecting the shoulder and collarbone. The blade glided right through, severing Myrddin's arm as Nuada sailed past him. Myrddin, without even flinching, turned and reached for his staff with his right hand. Nuada's scalded feet slammed into the stone floor, the soles of his feet peeling away within his boots. He still did not care. Just as back on the pirate ship, he crouched down and flexed his leg muscles. He kicked off the ground and flew once more at Myrddin.
1….
Myrddin grasped his staff and turned to aim it at Nuada. Nuada…caught up to him. He was face-to-face with Myrddin. Myrddin's staff was aimed past him, parried past Nuada with Argetlam Réalt. Fragarach Cóiméad…was stabbed into Myrddin's chest. Myrddin couldn't even feel it. The blade simply erased the part of his body where it impaled him. The magma began to flow its way. Both could feel the heat from what was about to bombard them.
"CUT!" The magma hit an invisible wall. The heat vanished. The chasm faded back into the white void, leaving the two alone.
Nuada grabbed Myrddin by the right shoulder, holding them both in place. Nuada's body screamed from head to toe due to his burns. Myrddin's right arm dropped, his grip on the staff loosened. It fell, clattering to the floor and rolling away. "Didn't fall for it…" Myrddin said, smiling.
"Leaving a few places for me to step was an obvious trap. Good try, though."
"Even with all that heat, you still stayed cool under pressure…" Cracks began to grow from the stab wound. "…guess that's why you're still the King."
"For now…my boy will be far better than I. Sad to say you can't help yours…"
Myrddin raised his right hand and placed it lightly on Nuada's shoulder. He bowed his head and slouched, touching his forehead to Nuada's. His eyes widened, and a quick burst of red light came from the staff. Nuada could feel it, Myrddin peering into his mind. His instincts compelled him to fight it. However, he resigned himself. He breathed deeply and relaxed. It took all of three seconds. Myrddin leaned back, smiling. "Oh…but I can now." Göndul appeared behind Myrddin, bracing herself against him to keep him up. Cracks began to appear on her arms where she was in contact with Myrddin. "I may have lost this battle, but we? We've won the war." The cracks continued to spread throughout his and Göndul's bodies as green energy enveloped them. Both looked and softly smiled at Nuada, touched by his last kind act. "See you around."
Their bodies shattered into dust and vanished. Nuada caught the slight, small burst of red light before they died, but he said nothing. He turned away from the spot and walked back to the East Entrance, his lazy, overconfident expression returning. Got me again, you sly grifter. Well played. Nuada thought.
"…Huh..what, wait…HOLY SMOKES, everyone!" Heimdal managed to catch himself and resume his duties. "What a hair-raising finale! After an epic clash of sword and sorcery within High Fantasy, the winner of Round 5 now stands tall! The Winner of Storytelling: Setting and Round Five: NUADA!"
Saint Germain vs Nuada
Victor: Nuada
Match Length: 16 Minutes 58 Seconds
Deciding Move: Pléasctha Airgid
Humans 2 – 3 Gods