Nerluce had never understood Aristide's title better than he did now.

The other man stood across from him in the ring, back straight with pride and eyes half a glow. His battle against Coam had finished some time ago, so his breathing was even and his brow was dry but the afterglow that came with victory had yet to fade. Nerluce saw it in his every feature. It filled Aristide down to his bones and burned brighter than any flame either of them could create.

The Angel of Death. A beautiful, divine soldier who could kill five thousand men in the span of a breath. Nerluce had heard a hundred stories by now. He could see them in Aristide's skin and lashes. He could see his own memories in the gold rim of Aristide's eyes.

But Nerluce had never thought Aristide looked more unfamiliar.

This version of Aristide before Nerluce was a creature that had crawled from stories, still dripping in ink and words. He was monstrous. Gorgeous. Beautiful. Horrible. He was the perfect contrast of things. He'd always been like that but never in this way before. Nerluce wondered if this was what Doite felt like when they caught up to him, or if it was more similar to what the boy had felt before he died.

Nerluce swallowed. Aristide very much looked like he wanted to kill Nerluce. It was in the set of his jaw. The slight curl of his lips. The frigidness in his gaze. Hard and cold and divine. Nerluce had thought he was going to die the night he first met Aristide. Perhaps he had. Perhaps this whole thing had been one, long, drawn-out night where Aristide was going to kill him in the end.

Aristide called Kōttaiki. Nerluce had always loved this thin, ice blade that Aristide wielded. The thin, ice blade that could slice iron as easy as paper and would have no difficulty with his flesh. He'd always thought Kōttaiki was a beautiful weapon. Aristide was deserving of it and all its beauty. Its coldness was a good match for Aristide too. Nerluce could not imagine Aristide wielding any other weapon.

Or killing him with any other either.

The crowd surrounding them was filled with noise. People talking, trading coins and bets, people shuffling, pressing up against one another, people not paying attention at all, just relishing in the gossip that such an event created. It was a cacophony of noise. They overlapped and mixed together so Nerluce couldn't understand anything but he could hear all of it.

It was strange. Nerluce hadn't noticed the crowd in any of his other battles. He rarely heard things at all when he was fighting. The muteness of battle was one of the only joys that came with fighting. Nerluce didn't have to think, he just had to move.

And so, Nerluce just did. He called Ealatus. It answered him, forming in his hands. The crowd quieted some. Nerluce didn't know if it was because Ealatus caught their attention as Nerluce had yet to use it today or if by calling Ealatus Nerluce was able to enter his usual headspace. He didn't care. He was thankful for the quiet as he leveled his body and prepared himself. To fight and win or to die.

He didn't have to kill Aristide to win. He just needed Aristide to surrender. Gods knew if that was even possible.

The Empress gave her mark.

The match began.

Aristide was fast, faster than Nerluce. Nerluce snarled a curse as Kōttaiki sunk into his shoulder. It didn't burrow very deep before Nerluce caught the sword with one of his vines and melted it to a puddle with his flames. By this point, Aristide had called Kōttaiki again and was halfway to Nerluce.

Nerluce blocked. Ealatus melted right through Kōttaiki but did not reach Aristide. He twisted. Fast. Aristide was fast and he had another ice blade - not Kōttaiki but a dagger - and was coming for Nerluce again.

Nerluce dodged Aristide's attack, jerking and rolling to the side while sending a couple of vines to keep Aristide entertained until he got back on his feet. Nerluce was up just in time to see Aristide leveling his dagger, both of Nerluce's vines frozen over. Nerluce slapped his palms together and created a shield, melting the dagger before it hit. And then he sent the flaming shield at Aristide.

It, of course, did not hit. Aristide seized control of Nerluce flames the moment Nerluce released them - just like they had when in practice and they burned blue before changing into Suru-Suru at Aristide's side. Nerluce grinned and called Ealatus to him again before rushing at Aristide, bringing the two firey blades together.

Magick could interact with Magick. Unlike a real sword - or even an ice one - Suru-Suru could catch Ealatus and vise versa. The heat of the two weapons was intense. Nerluce's eyes watered as he and Aristide exchanged a few blows, each of their swords trying to overtake the other. The blue fire turned Nerluce's skin pink. Similar burns were starting on Aristide's hands. Good. It was good to know divinity could be hurt.

And so he told his vines to attack Aristide's back.

Physical Magick - for all its power - was not very good against an opponent who would see Nerluce's movements, understand their meanings, and counter in time. Ice formed behind Aristide, freezing and shattering the plants while Aristide and Nerluce continued to fight with their blades.

It was fast-paced and brutal. Nerluce called vine after vine, putting as much attention and power into the Magick as he could while still keeping up with Aristide's swordplay. There was no time for Nerluce to think or plan or do anything but watch Aristide and counter his moves when there was time to.

Ice scratched his body. Fire singed his sides.

He burned Aristide back, watching dark skin darken even further. Nerluce cut deep and without mercy. Aristide returned the favor. A couple of Nerluce's branches managed to reach Aristide, but only for a moment. Aristide knew if he was trapped then that would be it. Nerluce knew the same, though Aristide had only tried to freeze his feet once. He'd failed, given Nerluce's fire and hadn't wasted the energy to try again.

They were both tiring. Nerluce had more injuries but Aristide burned stamina much faster with his speed. In terms of power, Nerluce was near astonished to find them equal matches. He'd assumed that Aristide would have him beat but... that wasn't the case. The only place where they were on different footings was in experience.

Aristide had much, much more experience in being in war.

But Nerluce had played in war much more recently.

Nerluce felt himself grinning, though he had no idea why. His body was in incredible pain. He was panting heavily, exhausted. He was nearly done for. He couldn't keep pace anymore and had drawn back after Aristide made his most recent wound, a burn to Nerluce leg. A part of Nerluce knew he ought to surrender. He didn't have enough energy to keep going like this. If he surrendered now then he'd live. For a while longer, Aristide would not be able to kill him.

But delaying the night did not guarantee that the sun would rise. In fact, Nerluce was relatively certain that Aristide would see him dead, no matter what. Even if Nerluce surrendered, Aristide would know he was able to win, know he was able to kill Nerluce and he could come to collect that at any moment. The only way to stop that, the only way for Nerluce to live... well this was a game of war, for the pleasure of an Empress.

And to win at war, one had to kill.

It was stupid and it was a last bid effort. If Nerluce failed, he would die. But that had always been the case when Nerluce played at war. So his grin widened and dismissed Ealatus, lifting his hands. Aristide's eyes widened. He dismissed Suru-Suru too. He turned and braced himself, pouring his Magick outwards and freezing the vines - nearly two dozen - in a massive and monstrous statue.

But not even the great Aristide could do that instantaneously. By the time he turned back around, Kōttaiki already half summoned in his hand, Nerluce was there. Nerluce took great delight in seeing the fear and surprise in Aristide's eyes as he was tackled to the ground. It was ugly and not befitting of either Aristide or this contest, but Nerluce did not care.

No one else might know it, but Nerluce and Aristide did. They knew this was a real fight. A real war. And there was no such thing as a move too low to make when one's life was on the line.

Nerluce and Aristide both hit the ground hard. The kind of hard that made teeth clatter and bruises blossom. The half-formed Kōttaiki went skidding. Nerluce caught Aristide's wrists in one hand and pulled them above Aristide's head in a single movement. Aristide jerked, but at that point, it was a bit too late and his wrists were bound, tied with one of Nerluce's vines, and Aristide was pinned beneath Nerluce.

They were glaring at one another, their breaths mixing in the small space between them. Aristide thrashed again but he could not get loose. Nerluce would not let him. He would not let Aristide win. Aristide's glare hardened and Nerluce swept his hand back, calling another firey shield. The ice melted and puddled, unable to reach its target.

"Yield," Nerluce hissed. "Before I accidentally tell the vines to cut off your hands."

Aristide glared and looked like calling Nerluce's bluff with another round of ice.

If that happened... Aristide would win, pinned or not. Eventually, Nerluce would become too exhausted and... Aristide would skewer him. Nerluce couldn't let it. So he told the vines to tighten. Aristide let out a small grunt of pain and gods who knew how much it hurt if Aristide was giving any sort of reaction at all.

"I- I yield," Aristide said. The admission of defeat looked like it pained him more than the vines had.

"Good boy." Nerluce let the vines fall loose.

The cheers of victory never sounded so sweet.