Nevermore zero

With a resounding clash, Gideon parried Alaric's vicious slash, the force of the impact sending sparks cascading through the air. A smirk curled his lips, his eyes gleaming with mockery and a hint of cruel amusement. He leaned in just enough to let his words drip with derision.

"You seem to think this will end in your favor."

Alaric's jaw clenched, his teeth grinding together. Fury blazed in his eyes, scorching away all reason and patience. His grip on the sword tightened until his knuckles turned white.

"Ugh, just shut up!" Alaric snapped, his voice sharp as a dagger. He lunged forward with all the speed and strength his rage could summon, his blade aimed unerringly at Gideon's neck.

But the killing blow never landed.

A swift shadow cut between them, an intercession born of sheer instinct and lethal reflexes. Grimga's clawed hand shot out, yanking Gideon back just in time. The blade whistled through empty air, grazing the edge of Gideon's robes but finding no flesh. The near-miss only fueled Alaric's seething anger.

"Animals—that's all you are!" he roared, the contempt in his voice palpable and raw.

In a burst of savage resolve, Alaric slid his palm along the length of his sword. The cold steel bit into his skin, and blood welled up, slick and crimson. The moment his blood touched the blade, it hissed and shimmered, igniting with a violent crimson glow. The weapon pulsed with a terrible heat, a living embodiment of his wrath. Blood dripped steadily from his hand, each drop sizzling as it struck the ground, leaving smoldering marks on the battlefield.

Without hesitation, he unleashed a relentless barrage of slashes, his movements a whirlwind of fury and precision. Each strike was driven by the force of his righteous anger, each swing designed to break, to punish, to destroy.

Grimga and Gideon struggled to meet his relentless speed. Their defenses wavered, each parry growing more desperate. Grimga's breath came in sharp gasps, her muscles straining under the force of Alaric's onslaught. Gideon's smirk faltered, replaced by a grim determination as he matched Alaric's ferocity, his serpent-like agility barely keeping him ahead of the storm.

But then it happened.

With a brutal, sweeping arc, Alaric's blazing blade found its mark. The strike connected with Gideon's right arm, the blade slicing clean through muscle, bone, and sinew. The severed limb fell to the ground with a sickening thud, the fingers still twitching as if in denial of their fate.

A raw, unfiltered cry of agony ripped from Gideon's throat. He staggered back, his good hand clamping down on the gory stump as blood gushed between his fingers. His usually confident stance buckled, and he sank to one knee, his face contorted in pain. Grimga's eyes widened in shock and rage. She bared her teeth, her snarl echoing through the battlefield as she moved defensively in front of Gideon, ready to protect him with her life.

Alaric exhaled sharply, the crimson glow of his blade casting eerie shadows on his face. He reset his stance, his eyes cold, calculating, and merciless. He was a predator who had wounded his prey, and he waited, muscles coiled, for the next inevitable move.

But Gideon's ragged breaths gave way to something unexpected—a chuckle.

The sound was faint at first, strained, almost a whisper. Then it grew, a low, mocking laughter that curled into the air, filled with venomous glee. His lips twisted back into that familiar smirk, even as sweat slicked his brow and blood soaked his robes. He lifted his gaze to Alaric, and in his eyes, there was no pain. No fear. Only the gleaming, unblinking gaze of a serpent that knew it had already won.

"Did you think that would stop me?" Gideon hissed, his voice like silk wrapped around steel.

Alaric's eyes narrowed, confusion flickering behind his fury. He watched in horror as Gideon's smirk widened, his pupils thinning into vertical slits, glimmering with a cold, reptilian menace. The air around Gideon shimmered ominously, and a grotesque transformation began.

From the bloody stump, tendrils of dark, viscous flesh oozed forth, coiling and weaving together like serpents in a nest. The sinew tightened, the flesh solidified, and bone reformed with a sickening crack. In mere moments, Gideon's arm was whole once more. His fingers flexed experimentally, the newly formed limb as strong and sinuous as before.

Alaric's breath caught in his throat. The realization of what he was facing sank like a stone in his gut. This was no mere opponent. This was a being whose very existence defied the natural order, a predator in a skin that mocked humanity.

Gideon rolled his shoulders, his renewed arm moving seamlessly. He grinned, the sinister glee in his eyes magnified tenfold.

"Your justice is amusing," he drawled. "But it takes more than that to best me."

Grimga's snarl deepened, her claws flexing in anticipation. She was emboldened by Gideon's resilience, ready to tear into Alaric with the same savage energy he had shown them.

Alaric's jaw tightened. The weight of the battle, the reality of his enemy's monstrous nature, threatened to suffocate him. But his resolve did not falter. He tightened his grip on his glowing blade, the crimson light pulsing like a heartbeat.

If monsters were to be slain, then he would be the one to do it. No matter the cost.

"Then let's finish this," he growled.

The storm of battle was far from over. The clash of steel and fury would echo long into the night, but only one side would see the dawn.