"Let us continue, then."
"I have a proposal," Tycondrius smirked arrogantly, "Shall we use our strongest attacks?"
"It pains me... but if you are *so* eager to die," Zehr mused, "Then I can only acquiesce."
He casually lifted the Spinal Reaper over his head, "⌈Colossal Strike.⌋"
The Skill made the oversized greataxe glow with a dizzying amount of sparkling light. The ground began to tremble. White sands whirled about him.
It *looked* quite strong.
...Tycon wasn't impressed. He could do better.
Step one:
« System, summon: Spatial ring. »
The sturdy iron band materialized around his finger. He had been so uncomfortable with its absence.
Step two:
With a casual flick of his wrist, he summoned his curved sword in hand.
And... step three:
"⌈Taste the Hydra Blade,⌋" With the draw, he released nine, giant mana-created snakes, snapping forth with violent fervor.
It took most of his remaining mana reserves... but he still had enough mana to use his lower tier Skills without suffering the effects of mana exhaustion.
Zehr furrowed his eyebrows, "Hm. You used that Skill... at the Halls..."
The god interrupted his Skill channeling, smashing his axe into the first of the ethereal snakes...
"⌈Tumble,⌋" He hopped, ducked, and dodged away. He grabbed one of the surging snakes and crushed it into mana dust-- repeating the grab-and-crush with a second.
"Full marks for attack strength," Zehr sneered. "But really, I'm the Snake God, using snakes on me is--"
Tycon snapped his fingers, summoning his ⌈Venomous Shadow⌋ behind Zehr. It wielded two swords in its vaguely defined hands. One was Tycon's. The other should have been a very familiar god-enchanted arming sword.
Zehr spun on his heel, battering the first attack with a displeased face. The second slash, he took to the chest, successfully drawing blood. Finally, the remaining snakes bit into his form-- though they dissipated after a single bite.
"GODSSSS DAMN ITTTT!!!" He hissed.
The man was absolutely livid.
The furious god swung his Spinal Reaper downward, cleaving the shadow into two.
As it dissipated, the shadow managed to form two, identical obscene gestures with its hands.
It was somewhat unprofessional, but it was the perfect distraction Tycon needed to move into Zehr's blind spot, "⌈Shadowfang.⌋"
Tycon raked his curved sword down the snake god's back, cutting his cloak and chain armor open-- blood spraying out like a fountain.
Zehr staggered away like a drunkard, then turned while gnashing his teeth, "Oh, you think this is the best I can--"
"--⌈Legionbreaker,⌋" Tycon stabbed him through the stomach.
The snake god undimmed his vision, glaring in hatred.
Fatigued as he was, Tycon took great joy in swinging his adamantine scabbard at Zehr's jaw, dislodging at least two perfect teeth and sending them flying.
Damaging his doppelganger's dashing appearance made him feel a slight pang of guilt... but he would not compromise efficiency for mere aesthetics. He was a professional, after all.
"YOUUU!!!" Zehr managed a double-handed swing as a quick counter-attack.
Tycon slammed the base of his hilt against the huge greataxe blade, rejecting the attack in its entirety. Then, he chopped his scabbard into Zehr's neck because breathing properly was not a luxury that fellow deserved.
As Tycon's shadow had so politely opened Zehr's chest armor, he drew his own sword along the same line.
It was a satisfyingly deep cut, a lethal injury to any mortal body.
The god fell to his knees.
But... despite the copious amount of blood spilled onto the white-stone floor... he did not yet die.
Tycon stabbed Zehr through the chest, eliciting a pained hiss, but no other dramatic movements.
It seemed that the severe injuries had weakened him tremendously.
That would do.
He leapt forward, pinned the injured god to the ground, and began to savagely smash his scabbard against the god's sword elbow.
The miserable god tried to desperately block with the haft of his greataxe... and his armor was still quite strong. It was likely that Zehr had used his powers over the Reality Marble to empower his item enchantments.
As it would have been a pain to have his System reverse-engineer and remove those enchantments, Tycon elected to prioritize brute force over accurate attacks.
It didn't matter how enchanted the Spinal Reaper or his chain armor were. According to basic physics, as long as he kept beating Zehr with heavy attacks, his mana-created body would continue to take damage.
"E... ENOUGHHH!!!!"
Zehr's mana-empowered yell launched Tycon away. He hit the ground with his back, but activated ⌈Tumble⌋ to roll to safety...
Because he was an intelligent fighter, he also kept hold of both his curved blade and his heavy scabbard.
Zehr stood up, his axe arm hanging awkwardly from the elbow down, "Where... in the SEVEN HELLS did you learn CURVED BLADE TECHNIQUES?!"
"From a friend," Tycon shrugged, "You wouldn't know him, though. Don't think he believes in you."
"Whatever," Zehr spat. "This ends now."
Another tooth. Tycon grimaced as he apologized in his heart for despoiling such a beautiful gentleman.
The god lifted his Spinal Reaper up towards the nightmarish sky, "⌈Divine Armor Summon: OATHBREAKER!!!⌋"
Tycon looked up in amusement as Zehr was encased in white swirling sands... quickly hardening and turning red. In seconds, a twenty-fulm tall suit of armor stood over him.
It was the Oathbreaker... the original Divine Armor... and the weapon wielded by the strongest Snake Cult Champion in modern history.
The Spinal Reaper transformed with it, large enough to break apart buildings with a gentle shove.
Bright brick red, like a children's toy. Trimmed with black, like burnt coal. Overall annoying to behold, in all its glory. That was the prototype for the Divine Armors used by the highest echelons of the Church of the Eternal Flame.
The Oathbreaker held its axe over Tycon like an executioner, "[Counter this.]"
"Very well," Tycon sheathed his sword and raised his open right hand.
« System, add Divine Armor Starfury to the Reality Marble. »
Without a sound, an all-red suit of armor materialized behind The Oathbreaker. Deep, blood-colored crimson metal. Easily thrice its size. Without an injured pilot to inhibit its movements.
There were no shadows cast on the platform... but Zehr seemed to notice something was off. Slowly... Divine Armor Oathbreaker turned its head... and took a step backward to take the Star-Fury in full view.
"[You... you took control of the Reality Marble while you were running away, didn't you?]"
Tycon's face broke into a grin... and he answered by snapping his fingers.
⟬ ⌈Commander's Strike⌋ activated. ⟭
"[Tycondrius... you are, without a doubt, my worst... f*cking--]"
The Star-Fury grabbed onto the Oathbreaker's head. Though the Oathbreaker attempted to peel off the larger armor's grip with its single good arm, it was quickly slammed into the ground like a petulant child.
Tycon's entire body shook from the impact...
« System... um... extend the current platform tenfold, if you would. »
⟬ Extending platform... ⟭
Tycon snapped his fingers a few more times, watching Natalya Crucis' Divine Armor stomp on the smaller, older set of armor.
Something was missing, though. Something important...
It irked him.
« System... go ahead and add Divine Armor Dawnbringer, as well. »
A white and gold set of Divine Armor, only a few fulms shorter than the Star-Fury appeared beside it.
"[Sister, please allow me to assist,]" It offered in a high-pitched metallic voice.
"[Of course, Sister,]" The Star-Fury replied, its voice more mature, but still echoey and artificial.
That's what it was... Tycon's heart filled with satisfaction. The real Dawnbringer was wielded by High Oracle Troia. As she and Natalya were as inseparable as real siblings, it was only proper that the two Divine Armors acted in tandem.
"[I'm sorry, Eldest Brother!]" Dawnbringer cried as it began blasting beam after beam of radiant energy on the downed armor, a third of their sizes...
"[Don't apologize, Sister!]" Star-Fury roared, forming two long swords of erratic fire mana in its hands, "[This is for FATHER!!!]"
...
Tycon changed the Reality Marble's location settings into the warm, sandy beaches of his territory... There was no point being miserable and cold when he had the ability to make reality whatever he wanted.
A broken body lay on the beach... a sorry sight that should have looked exactly like him. Unfortunately, that person's face was severely burnt off and his form, twisted and broken by the Divine Armors Star-Fury and Dawnbringer.
Tycon gently kicked the body in the side, "You still alive, snake god?"
Zehr turned, coughing and spitting blood...
His arm shot up... as if he was inviting help.
Tycon pretended not to notice.
After a short while, the snake god finally managed to sit up.
"You can't kill me, Tycondrius," He laughed bitterly. "Despite your feeble protests, you believe in the concept of me as a god... and have accepted that I have power over you."
"That's a stupid rule," Tycon remarked.
"It is... Hah..." Zehr spat out another glob of dark blood before falling back into the sand...
"You'd best leave, then... while you still can," He smirked. "I'll get control of my Reality Marble back eventually... and you know that this isn't the best I can do."