FACING IT HEAD ON (3)

Marshall's gaze remained steady even though his breathing was strained. He glanced at Wyn briefly, a silent communication passing between them.

Although the snow deity wanted to disagree, it was clear the disciple was going to step out to face the Stygian Overlord. Wyn gave him a nod of encouragement. Marshall smiled in return, straightening.

"Fine, then," the disciple said, his voice calm and resolute. He dismissed his shield, letting it dissipate in the air, then stepped forward. 

As they stood face to face, Wyn could see the great height difference. The disciple looked almost small in comparison to the demonic man, yet his audacity seemed to even it out.

"Brave, but naive," the Overlord lunged at Marshall with blinding speed, his fist cloaked in demonic energy.

Reflexively, Marshall sidestepped, dodging the attack.

The demonic man scoffed, and slowly turned around, waiting to see what the disciple would do.

Marshall charged at him, but the man copied his earlier move, easily sidestepping. But instead of putting distance between them, the Overlord gave him a seemingly light push. As if thrown by the power of four men, Marshall flew into the nearby tree. The air was knocked out of his lungs, leaving him wheezing.

Wyn stepped forward, but the disciple raised a hand to stop him. He coughed as he caught his breath, rising back to his feet. This was the first time Wyn witnessed Marshall's face grow dark with resentment. 

"You learned a few tricks, and now you think you can take me on?" the Overlord mocked him. "Are you arrogant or just dense?"

Wyn watched intently, his eyebrows stuck at a worried height. Marshall's movements were swift and calculated. He feinted to the left, then quickly pivoted, aiming a powerful kick at the Stygian Overlord's side. The demonic man anticipated the move, but the kick still landed, forcing him to take a step back.

"You're persistent, I'll give you that," the Overlord muttered through his teeth, rubbing his side where Marshall had struck. "But you're still weak."

With that, an overwhelming burst of dark energy was released, pushing the disciple back. He stumbled a few steps back but quickly regained his footing, raising his hands to form another arrow.

The thin golden core gleamed ominously as he launched it, sinister glimmer leading the way.

This time the arrow pierced the Stygian Overlord's left shoulder with a tearing sound. Wyn tilted his head, catching onto something. Marshall seemed to target the same shoulder on purpose. Was he taking revenge?

After sustaining the injury, the demonic man became fed up. He moved so fast that it seemed he skipped through time and space, reaching for Marshall with the greatest force he had exerted until now.

The disciple failed to react, and his left shoulder was seized with a crack. Marshall's eyes widened in pain as the Stygian Overlord's fingers dug into his skin, blood trickling down his arm.

"You lucky bastard. Think you can wound me?" he said, the sadistic grin growing as he lifted Marshall off the ground by his shoulder, dangling him like a ragdoll. "All you can do is provoke me. Where's the real damage? Can't do it?"

Wyn hastily refocused the next wave of his recovered spiritual energy, calling forth a large wave of snow. He took a deep breath, pushing beyond his limits. 

The temperature around them plummeted as the blizzard surged towards the Stygian Overlord. Caught by surprise, he threw Marshall at the wave, shielding himself from the freezing assault. But the spiritual frost still bit him, and his movements slowed.

The disciple hit the ground hard, skidding to a stop at Wyn's feet. The snow deity immediately knelt beside him, his hands glowing as he quickly removed the spiritual frost damage from Marshall.

"Are you all right?" he asked, unable to mask his concern.

Marshall nodded, scrambling back up. "I'm fine," he panted, struggling to catch his breath. Yet, he still had enough gall to joke, "I think I should look into getting myself some shoulder plates."

The demonic man struggled against the icy grip, his movements becoming sluggish and forced. Despite his immense power, spiritual frost had taken a toll on him.

As Marshall stood up again, the Stygian Overlord's mouth curled into a displeased smirk at his own disadvantage. It seemed that he briefly considered continuing the fight but decided against it.

"Prepare yourself," he spat a warning at Marshall. "The next time we meet, one of us will die."

With an air of threats, the demonic disappeared into the shadows the same way he had appeared.

His warning set in Wyn's gut with a bad premonition.

He looked to Marshall, who was left staring blankly. It seemed his mind was floating in a haze, not entirely grasping that the battle was over. Then, the muddled expression on his face was twisted by laughter.

"Heh, hah, haha!" he looked to his feet, then to the sky, eyes gleaming in triumph. "I'm still standing! Ha! Haha! Ha!"

The disciple examined the scene around them with a satisfied look. His fingers traced the torn bark, feeling the rough edges where the forceful energies had cut gashes, then paced around, mumbling something. 

After taking a deep breath of the cold winter air, Marshall found a patch of moss and sank down onto it. His content gaze wandered up to the grey sky again, and his breathing slowed.

Wyn could see that, as the agitation wore off, the pain in his shoulder flared. He deity knelt next to Marshall, applying pressure to the wound. The disciple grimaced at the ache, but an obnoxious grin quickly replaced the pained expression as he fished for praise.

"Hey, Wyn. I did good, didn't I?"

Wyn glanced up, but upon seeing the beaming grin, he could not help but sigh at the undying optimism. He applied more pressure, trying to stop the bleeding.

"Ow, ow, ow, hey!" Marshall squirmed. "Leave it alone, my demonic energy will heal that."

"Then why is it still bleeding?" Wyn countered, not relenting.

"I expended a lot of energy, so it needs some time to regenerate," the disciple bargained. "It'll be all healed by the end of the night."

Wyn stared at his shoulder deep in thought. After a while, he conceded, "All right. But we cannot stay here for long. The officials might appear any second now."

Marshall mumbled something incoherent, pushing himself back to his feet with a sigh.

"Can you walk?" Wyn asked, his tone even as he helped the other up.

The disciple hummed doubtfully, glancing into the woods, "Fluffy?"

The snow deity's brows arched in bewilderment. "What are you..." his question faded as he saw the lion-maned demon emerge from behind the trees, obediently coming to their side.

"My Lord," the creature bowed, awaiting Marshall's command.