542 Dimitri

"P-please leave, already!" An armored Champion yelped from underneath a downed bar table, "I'll tell them you escaped!"

"Good enough for me!" Edge rushed out of the building, into the streets. 

"Tell 'em heretics did it!" Lone kindly suggested.

"Just GO!!!!"

Rushing after his partner, Lone caught up quickly enough... and their sprint slowed to a steady jog. 

"What do you think they want with... y'know... the items?" Lone asked.

"Hells if I know, Lord Ranger," Edge growled. "But I ain't betraying my country for a few silver slugs."

"[Then How About... Your Life?!]" A raspy voice cut through the night... 

Lone threw himself off the road to the right, Edge backflipping to the left-- and both of them barely dodged a brilliant eruption of green flame. 

The path was on fire. There was a hidden enemy that could cast magic. 

Lone nodded as he got to his feet. At least he wasn't surprised. 

A suit of dark metal armor stepped out the glowing green, holding a wicked, two-handed halberd sheathed in the stuff. It flipped up its visor, revealing a sunken undead face.

"[Hand Over the Items and You May Live,]" It spoke... with Dimitri's voice, echoey and tainted with Nemayan magic. 

"Nah," Edge drew his rapier. "That's what the villains say in the stories. That's obviously a lie!"

"Again, this is all your fault, Edge," Lone rolled his eyes. "I mean-- look at this guy!! He's clearly evil!" 

"I already said I was wrong!" The Rogue snapped, "What more do you want?!"

"Say it again," Lone smirked. "I just like hearing it."

"[SHUT UP AND DIE, TYRION SCUMMMM!!]" Zombie-Dimitri roared. 

With supernatural speed, the armored zombie leapt up, and it brought its domineering halberd down onto Edge. 

Edge reached up to block-- but his rapier's caged hilt was useless. The weapon was sent tumbling away, the metal aflame, and when it landed it was twisted and distorted from the brief contact with the dark magic. 

Lone unloaded shot after shot into the undead's back-- but each bullet was stopped by a wall of screaming ghostly skulls. 

"AIIEAAAAAEEEEGHHH!!!!" The spirits rushed towards him. 

...which was something Lone really should have expected. 

Thinking quickly, he grabbed the Dark Iron wolf-hammer on his waist, "⌈Flame On!⌋"

Tres Leches lit aflame, and swinging it upward, he managed to scatter the ghostly wall into... over a dozen ghost skulls, flying independently of each other. 

Shite. 

Edge was dipping, ducking, and dodging the undead's quick halberd swipes, "Little help?!"

"Use your dagger!�� Lone shouted back. 

Lone swung his wolf-hammer, dissipating exactly one of the many ghost-skulls flitting around him, "What, you wanna switch?!"

Edge retreated to beside Lone, trusting him with his back, "Yeah, I do!!" 

The ghost-skulls withdrew, spinning around Dimitri's armored form like a swarm of fat, ugly seagulls. The Nemayan spun his halberd, sprinting towards them, "[Not Even Death Will Be the End for You!!!!]" 

""SWITCH!!"" Lone had turned to Edge, screaming at the top of his lungs. Edge had done the same. 

Lone wanted to say it was because they worked well together... but in his heart, he just knew they both really, really didn't want to die. 

The screaming skulls spiraled towards them, but Edge was ready to intercept. He drew his dagger and started to spin with the force and fury of a children's toy, "⌈Spinniiiiiiiiiing SLAAAASH!!!!⌋"

Edge's stark, glowing blade cut through the night, destroying a very decent four skulls. He had to dive away from a fifth one, though. 

"Shite!" He screamed. 

Lone grit his teeth and widened his stance. Any way he looked at the situation, his job was far worse. He took in a deep breath, circulated his mana, and swung his wolf-hammer, "⌈Flaaaame ONNN!!!!⌋"

Dimitri skidded in the dirt, repositioning his halberd to deflect the strike. 

BANG!! Impact!!

The armored zombie was forced to step back... 

"Shhhiiite!" Lone echoed...

His strength was enough. He just needed to get past Dimitri's defenses and land a single, solid hit... 

Suddenly, an ice-cold shock of pain traveled up his left leg-- the rest of his body chilled, while that leg burned hot, like it was trying to reject whatever was attacking it. 

"Got it!" Edge kicked one of the skulls away. 

Lone knelt down, wincing in pain, and rubbing at where he was bit, "ArrrrRRRGH! That HURRRTS!"

"Yeah, why didn't you dodge?" Edge rolled his eyes. 

"Shut up," Lone groaned loudly... "Using magic isn't fair..."

"Necromancy spells're no joke," Edge spat. "Listen, Lone, I can't fight off so many fliers with just my dagger."

Lone drew the Shatterspike off of his back, offering his partner the hilt, "You know how to use this thing?"

"Psh," He took it. "Do I know how to use this thing..."

"Well, do you?" Lone stared. 

"Just watch," Edge flourished the sword, testing its weight in his hands... "⌈Spinning Slash.⌋"

The Rogue steadied himself, then spun in a circle, the Shatterspike arcing around him, lashing out at over a dozen skulls. Once he stopped, not a single one was left. He slashed the air, cleaning the spirit goo off the blade. 

Lone clenched his eyes shut, rubbing at his hurt leg. Unfortunately, Dimitri didn't want to let him rest-- even for a moment. Lone brought up Tres Leches to block a green-flamed halberd strike, and then he had to combat-roll away as another weird green geyser erupted from where he was. 

He speed-crawled towards the safety of Edge... 

Looking up with an angry glare, he began to shout, "And WHY don't you ALWAYS use two-handed weapons? HUH?!"

"One-handed weapons look cooler," The Rogue shrugged as he helped Lone back to his feet. 

"Hey, Dimitri!!!" Edge shouted, "You Flame-taken son of a b*tch!!! All this?! For an Archbishop's dirty underwear?!"