Chapter 23: Swords and Pentacles

Song recommendation: Demon time (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XrB2XEbIzeA)

Varseille raced towards Clover at lightning-fast speed launching one hit after the other. At first, Clover was taken back by the ferocity of his attacks. A punch landed across their face and sent them flying back.

Varseille flew up into the air and sent a spiralling kick down. Clover managed to avoid just in time as the ground beside them was impacted by the blow. Clover came to their feet with a start. As Varseille's next punch came whizzing towards them, Clover caught the arm and sent them crashing into the ground.

Clover remarked. "Don't you know that anger is not conducive for victory?"

Varseille threw himself up and started towards Clover with the same feral speed. Once more, Clover dodged his kick and landed one of their own causing Varseille to double over with a gasp.

"Why wouldn't I be angry?" Varseille snarled, "How dare you touch him?!"

Clover tilted their head back indifferently. Any hint of vulnerably was gone from their face. Before Varseille could rise again, Clover extended their hand and earth shot out of the ground. Varseille was hit from both sides. He struggled to rise again as blood dripped from his forehead.

"How dare I touch him?" Clover said quietly walking towards him, "How dare I? More like, how dare you?"

With completely cold-blooded eyes they threw a fist that was so heavy, the entire area formed a basin where Varseille had been standing. A plume of dust shrouded the area as Clover stared down mercilessly.

"Get up," they said without moving, "I know that's not enough to finish you and I'm not done punishing you yet,"

Varseille's palm was the first to appear from the smoke hurtling towards Clover. In his hand, a black ball of demonic energy exploded upon impact. Clover skidded back several paces and wiped away the blood from their mouth.

Clover stared down at the blood apathetically. Varseille lunged at them again with two more dark balls of energy in each hand. Clover clicked their fingers and a sludge of clay stopped Varseille in his tracks. He hit the ground with enough force to drag into the ground with a thump. His mask was broken in two. Clover stared down at him with a cold smile.

"You're not what I was expecting," they said drily. "Well, just to be on the safe side, I think I'll kill you anyway,"

Varseille slammed his fist into the ground angrily. Were they just playing with him? Varseille became quiet and stopped moving.

"I didn't want to have to waste one of these already," he muttered under his breath. His hand flew out from his waistcoat as he leapt back. Around his wrist was a black metal bracelet. Clover's eyes widened as they laid eyes on it. They immediately jumped back.

However, above them, a wall of black spears had already formed. They were whipped from above by a flurry of severe demonic energy. Clover's body was ravaged by hundred small cuts. They fell to the ground in a cloud of dust.

Varseille inhaled deeply. To think he would have to use one of the devices so early in the game. The rumours about the lord of the west were true. Well, now it was done...

Suddenly there was a rustle. Varseille stared into the clouds apprehensively. There was a flicker of dark shadows. His eyes were barely quick enough to follow. Clover came up beside him with such speed he didn't have time to block.

The hit dashed him to the ground and he skimmed across the red sand and smashed against the wall of the courtyard. The bricks tumbled down as the metal curved around Varseille's body. He fell to the ground.

He stared at Clover in disbelief as they walked towards him. They were completely covered in cuts from head to foot but seemed undeterred.

"Impossible," Varseille said in a low voice, "You should be dead,"

"You have a lot to learn," Clover smirked. They grabbed him by the neck hoisting him up. "But I don't intend to let you live that long,"

Varseille struggled against their grip. He threw another fist towards but Clover caught it at once.

"Stop struggling so much," Clover grinned, "It's pathetic,"

Varseille's face broke into a malevolent grin, "Remember those words," he spat.

Clover glanced down at Varseille's hand. A black ring on one of his fingers shone brightly. A burst of light flew out like a beam going straight through Clover's chest. Clover staggered back coughing out blood. They glared up incredulously.

The hand which Varseille had been wearing the ring was completely deformed. It was blistered and steaming red. Varseille removed the ring with a smile. It disintegrated upon being removed. Varseille let out a laugh.

"I never thought I'd ever have to use that," Varseille coughed, "I've never had the pleasure of feeling the effects of holy magic first hand. It's really fucked up my hand, huh?" he said inspecting his hand.

"Worth it though," he flew at Clover once more, raining down hit after hit.

Clover's body simply wouldn't respond. The effect of the holy magic was worse than they thought. Versaille's fist launched them through the palace's walls. Before they could rise, Varseille was already standing over them. He ripped off a piece of metal that was overhanging from the wall. Then he plunged it into Clover's shoulder. They let out a grunt as they were pinned to the ground by the jagged metal.

He proceeded to do the same on the other side and once more Clover was unable to dodge. Their head hung low as they struggled to breathe. Varseille spun around gleefully as Clover finally stopped moving.

"I suppose this is fitting," Varseille remarked, "I killed Terre Sol and you took all the credit. Now I'll kill you and get the credit for both. The demon world is a place where actions are better than words. What will send a better message than hanging your corpse here for all the other palaces to see?"

Varseille stepped forward and inspected Clover once more, "you're not dead already are you?"

Clover coughed out a mouthful of blood. Varseille stepped back.

"Good. I'd hate it if you died too easily. Your death should be painful,"

Clover didn't respond. Varseille dusted himself down. His white clothes were covered in red dirt and blood. He let out a displeased moan.

"Go get me some new clothes!" he barked at one of the guards, "I need to look presentable before I go see Ace," he muttered to himself then disappeared back inside the palace of coins.

"Ace?" Varseille knocked at his door an hour later.

Ace stirred from the bed and glanced up. Despite the knock, Varseille had already opened the door and was staring at him. He glanced up at Varseille with his usual blank expression.

"What?" Varseille smiled. He held one hand behind his back.

"Nothing," Ace replied quietly, "What do you want?"

"Ah don't be too mean to me," Varseille laughed nervously, "Why are you still in this room?"

He added looking at the gaping hall in the wall. Ace didn't reply.

"Well, I suppose you must still be traumatised. I can let you rest some more," Varseille said timidly.

"Yeah," Ace answered flatly, "you do that,"

He turned away from Varseille who hovered for a moment longer before leaving the room. The moment the door clicked shut, Ace sat up. He walked straight over to the wall and looked down. He glanced down to the spot where Clover was still impaled below.

He leisurely descended from the tower and strolled out to the courtyard.

"Look at you," Ace bent down beside Clover a few moments later, " You're a mess,"

It was dark by the time Ace reached the courtyard. The dust had settled as the red sun was burning below the horizon. Only Clover was left standing alone in the courtyard. They were impaled at each side. Ace was staring up at their face with childlike intensity.

Clover choked back a mouthful of blood unable to speak but their eyes fluttered open. They breathed pained and shallow breaths.

"You're still alive?" Ace shook his head. "Varseille is quite cruel,"

Clover glanced up at him with difficulty.

"Don't look at me like that. It's not my fault, Clover," Ace said softly.

The courtyard was quiet. Ace stood up with a sigh. He glanced back at the boundary walls that had been torn to shreds.

"Looks like it was quite the fight," he remarked, " Varseille looks like you beat the shit out of him but you look worse off. Well, you should take comfort in the fact that even now, though you look terrible, you still are the most beautiful person I've ever seen."

Clover's hair was matted with blood and it fell across their face. They were still apart from the sound of their struggling for breath. Ace stood up and swept the hair behind Clover's ears, continuing to watch them. Their eyes were a subdued pink.

"I told you you'd regret it if you came back. Didn't I warn you?" Ace whispered with a smile, "And you know that Varseille has so many toys, but you came anyway. You're so impulsive, but I secretly liked that about you. I always admired the way you could just do as you pleased. You always seemed so...free. Still, now look at you now. You're dying. You have no magic left. And because you came alone, the others won't reach you in time. Typical...Well, this really is the end for you."

Clover looked down despondently. Nevertheless Ace continued.

"Why do you look so depressed?" he asked quietly. "You're not afraid to die, are you?"

Clover glanced back up with a steady solemn stare.

"No," Ace said thoughtfully, "That's not it. You're not afraid, you're just full of regret."

Clover closed their eyes, holding back tears. Ace held a hand to their cheek as a single tear escaped. Clover leant against his hand, blinking slowly.

"I came here to watch you die but now I see how pitiable you look..." Ace tilted his head to one side, "I think I've changed my mind."