Elena backstepped and dodged with great haste. Losing nearly half her armor since the start of the fight worked ironically to her advantage in terms of speed. With every backstep, her fractured ribs cried out in protest. Still, Elena bit back the pain and raised her longsword yet again to parry another brutally graceful swipe of the demon’s scimitar. Admitting pain was to admit weakness. The weapons collided, and the humming white light clinging to her longsword became just a bit dimmer than it had before. Elena scanned her opponent's weapon, noticing the disparity between the fading light of her own and the laughing, chattering blaze of the other. There was no mistaking what that meant.

Well shit. Kevin better get his ass here soon.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Ever since the cleric hero had begun to put more effort into dodging his strikes, Mavier couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off.

“Come on, hero! From raging she-beast to coward, dodging like a thief! Where’s your fight gone?"

Yet, there was no reply other than a visible tightening of her mouth and what looked to be a vein beginning to bulge in her forehead. Odd. She came here filled with anger but changed tactics quite drastically. And, I’ve got the upper hand, yet she’s still fighting. All she’d have to do to end this is run back to the city. Then there’s the fact that the other one hasn’t shown up yet.

Mavier sent another flurry of scimitar blows towards the hero, casually hiding his free left hand behind his back like a gentleman fencing in a garden. Elena continued to parry each move frantically, one-by-one. He refused to lessen the pressure, and with his left hand unleashed a slender yet long gout of fire towards the trees behind him. Before long, the merry crackling of flames intertwined itself with the sounds of metal clashing as the forest behind Mavier began to burn.

One escape route readied up, Mavier thought, ignoring Elena’s confused glance at the forest, instead whipping his arm out and sending a heavy palm strike towards the flat of her blade. An ugly ‘ting’ sound followed, and he grinned as Elena hastily refocused her vision towards the fight and her sword, which now had a slight crack in it.

Mavier cackled in glee, holding out his arms and drooping into a mocking bow as she backed off and her face contorted in her efforts to restrain her own rage.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

From his hiding place near the Bastille, Tim silently watched as one of the Blinders members he had set up at the halfway point between the city and the Bastille came into view riding a very raggedy, panting horse.

“Boss! News from those weird fellas you told me to watch out for!” He shouted, broadcasting Tim’s hiding place for everyone in the vicinity to hear. Not that it mattered, since everyone within hearing distance either knew about it anyways or was paid to not care, but it irked Tim just the same, and it showed on his face as he beckoned the rider to come closer.

“Sorry boss, that was probably a bit too loud, wasn’t it?”

Tim sighed. “Next time, just ride up to me quietly. I can already see you coming in from the road, no need to scream out my location. Anyways, what do ya’ got for me?”

The messenger dismounted his horse and gave a sloppy bow. “One of those weird fellas contacted me, told me that someone called Lord Mavier, whoever that fucker is, started fighting with that cleric hero outside the city. Now, he did specifically mention that they were still waiting for the other one, and that Mavier fella has the upper hand for now.”

“Really now.” Tim absentmindedly stroked his chin in thought. “Well, if Mavier can deal with Elena, I don’t see any problems with that. He’ll probably like that answer, lets them finish their fight from earlier.”

“Yes boss. Anything in particular you want me to tell them?”

Tim looked back to the road. “Just remind them to stick to the plan, but if Mavier can remove the cleric from the equation without risking anything, then do it.”

“I’ll tell ‘em just that,” The messenger promised, remounting his horse and taking off back down the road.

A bit unexpected, to be sure. Tim shrugged his shoulders. It didn’t matter much. Well, I guess Elena seems to be the least shitty hero, as in she hasn’t shown herself to be as downright homicidal as the others, but I’m sure there’s skeletons in her closet too. Hell, she was probably going to come after me once Kevin and Adrian were taken care of anyways.

Tim settled back into his hiding place, stepping around the napping Bert for his earlier position of leaning against a tree. “What do you think, little buddy?” He murmured, reaching his hand into his breast pocket to scratch Philbert’s head. “Does Elena bite the dust today, or will her fellow hero arrive in time?”

The rat in his pocket leaned his head into Tim’s hand, nibbling on a few stray cookie crumbs found in the deep corners of the pocket. “Only time, time will tell.”

Tim scoffed. “No shit, Philbert. Way to be a party pooper.”

The rat did not dignify Tim’s complaints with a reply.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

The stone making up the ramparts of the Drassington walls groaned under Kevin’s very presence as he absent-mindedly observed the bitter duel between heroes in the distant forest. With each second that passed, yet another indistinguishable arcane phrase dripped from his lips, spreading out to influence the very fabric of reality, the basic laws of nature being defied as howling barriers of wind surrounded his body and a steady hum of electricity embedded itself into his boots. In the streets below soldiers shouted and cursed as they whipped their mounts to leap through the small opening the guards had created in the gate. Each soldier, no more than an ordinary person with respectable skills in human standards shouted themselves hoarse, doing all in their power to join their great lady in battle.

What horseshit.

Kevin saw them as nothing more than ants determined to throw themselves onto the pyre that was the so-called ‘demon hero’. While the creature certainly deserved the bare minimum of respect he was willing to give, as he was able to fight one of Kevin’s peers to a standstill (if Elena was even telling the truth), it was still a demon. A lowly creature, without the magical benefits that came through being summoned from another world. A lowly creature, not even deemed enough of a threat for the government to request that either Kevin or Adrian take care of it beforehand. The king of those grey-skinned freaks had been strong enough to earn that privilege, at least.

And yet, his peer, if he could even call her that anymore, was struggling. Hell, she was down-right getting the shit beaten out of her. Ah. Decisions, decisions. If I wait just a little bit longer, she might get some brain damage and be a little bit less bitchy. But on the other hand, just looking at that demon fucker irritates me. I guess there’s all that ‘pride of a hero’ thing my old butler used to whine to me about.

Hm. What was his name again? I think he was the one who got acid or whatever on him. Or was that the one that pissed me off and I fried ‘em?

Eh.

Whatever.

Kevin’s eyes refocused back on the fight. Nothing much had changed, other than the forest beginning to burn. He cocked his head, and then with a mutter of “That’s probably enough brain damage for today”, his muscles tensed, launching the powerfully built hero off the walls in a flash of thunder and lightning.