Balthazar's bellowing laugh echoed through the grand cavern, and the thickly flowing rivers of magma answered with jets of molten stone as fire rained down across his hellish domain. Emily stood proud upon a raised platform of black stone, holding her sword—Excalibur—at her side. She gasped for air within the choking smoke, and the wound her side ached something fierce. But though her armor, face, and hair might be stained with ash, and blood, and sot, she yet stood; facing the God’s rage and madness without fear.

For across the platform’s burnt and cracking surface, stood the mad God of war. He towered above her at almost twice her height. And floating lazily beside him were his broadsword, a great lump of metal a good six feet long and one foot wide at the hilt. Emily had become terribly aware of just how hard he could make the weapon hit. For their battle had been long and arduous, and her side stung where Balthazar had breached her defenses. Her shield had taken the brunt of the impact before failing in a cascade of gold; and yet the God's sword had broken through her armor and left a cut the width of her midriff.

But it did not matter, for as he had stuck her, she had finally found the flaw in Balthazar's seemingly perfect defense, and her next attack would be the last. With slow and calculated motions she repositioned her sword, before leaning heavily on her right leg. If she did it right, she might fool the God into closing the distance for her. And that she did, for Balthazar smiled dangerously when he saw her feigning fatigue, and walked towards her, leaving fire in his wake as his sword spun ominously in the air beside him.

"I am Balthazar!" the God roared as he begun another of his monologues. "I am the strongest of the old gods. The embodiment of strength and power. No mortal may stand against me for I have killed millions on battlefield; and you will be no different." He loomed over Emily when he stopped, and she got into position to strike, carefully lining up Excalibur for her final attack. Balthazar seemed not to notice, or perhaps he did not care, for so confident was he of his own victory that he continued to speak. "I am the destroyer of nations and slayer of kings; I am war eternal." He paused, his sword drawing backwards for a strike—as Emily knew it would. Then he looked down onto her, his eyes burning with unholy fire. "Compared to my greatness. What. Are. You."

Emily whipped a few stray locks of auburn hair out of her face and smirked up at the blazing inferno of a God as Excalibur lit up with a golden glow in anticipation, and said, "Still standing."