The Legend of Eli Monpress(351)

Josef’s answer was to draw the swords at his hips, swinging the warped blades in a whistling circle before settling into a fighting stance. Sted stared at him, his eager expression turning to one of disbelief.

“What is this?” he roared. “What are those, fire pokers? Is this some kind of a joke ?” He looked around, spotting the Heart high on its post. “I didn’t call this fight so we could dance, Liechten,” he growled, thrusting his clawed arm into the air, curved fingers pointing at the Heart’s hilt. “Take your sword and fight me like a man!”

“Why should I?” Josef answered, looking pointedly at Sted’s transformed hand. “After all, you could hardly be called a man anymore.”

Sted’s eyes narrowed. “I’m going to butcher you like a pig for that.”

Josef raised his swords, a feral grin coming over his face. “Try it.”

Sted clenched his fists with a roar, and then he was gone. Josef waited for the step from the shadows and whirled to his left, catching Sted’s clawed hand in his blades.

“I’m not like your coward girl,” Sted whispered as his claws began to eat through the steel of Josef’s swords. “I don’t hold anything back. Take the Heart and fight for real or I’ll kill everyone here, starting with you.”

Josef glared at him through the quickly vanishing cross of his blades. “You might have always been a monster,” he said. “But you were an indifferent brawler and even less of a swordsman. I don’t need the Heart to beat you.”

“Have it your way,” Sted hissed, and brought his demon arm down, ripping Josef’s swords in two.

But Josef had dropped the swords before Sted had finished speaking. He jumped nimbly back, hands going out to grab two fresh swords from the arena wall. The crude hilts slid into his hands and he brought the new pair forward just in time. Sted charged with an enraged scream, slamming them both into the arena wall hard enough to knock Josef’s breath out, but not hard enough to break his guard. For all its power, it was a sloppy hold, and Josef ducked under Sted’s arms with a quick step, his swords flashing in the sun as they raked under the larger man’s right shoulder.

Josef turned as soon as he finished the follow-through and was greeted by the beautiful sight of fresh, red blood running from two large gashes across Sted’s ribs. Even with his ears ringing from being bashed against the arena wall, he could feel the crowd’s roar through the sand. Had he been younger, stupider, he might have raised his arms in triumph, but he settled for a smile as Sted whirled around, hands going to stanch the flow of blood from his wound.

“No more iron skin, I see,” Josef said, flicking the blood from his blades onto the sand. “You’ll have to be better than that if you don’t want me to carve you up, Sted.”

He paused, waiting for a comeback, but Sted just smiled, his eyes unsettlingly bright, and removed his hand. Josef blinked. The blood was still there, slick and red against his skin, but the wounds were already gone.

“Yes.” Sted chuckled as Josef’s eyes widened. “Now you see. If you mean to carve me up, you’ll have to hit much harder than that.”

Josef started to answer, but Sted was on him before he could open his mouth, claws going for Josef’s throat. Josef blocked wildly, losing half his left sword in the process. He blocked again on the broken shard, but Sted was faster than ever. He flitted through the air, feet barely touching the ground thanks to the demon-gifted speed. Josef had no time to square his defense before Sted’s right fist, his human fist, slammed into Josef’s side. Josef coughed and staggered, but his remaining blade held true, keeping Sted’s claws away from him even as they sliced through the discolored metal of the sword. Sted roared and punched again, but this time he hit only air as Josef spun away, abandoning his sword, now skewered on Sted’s claws, and lunged for the wall.

The first sword he grabbed came apart in his hands, the hilt sliding off the blade as soon as he touched it. Josef swore and grabbed the next one, spinning just in time to keep from getting pinned against the wall. The second he moved, Sted switched up. Midcharge he turned and kicked off the wall with his legs, launching himself at Josef.

It happened so quickly there was no time to dodge, no time to block, so Josef did the only thing he could. Holding the warped sword with both hands in front of him like a spear, he dug in his heels and met Sted head-on. This time it was Sted who didn’t have time to defend. He slammed into Josef, sending them both crashing to the ground. Josef felt his shirt rip, followed by the skin of his shoulders as he skidded across the sand. Sted’s weight bore down on him, and he could feel the man’s monstrous claw tearing at the ground beside them, trying to stop the momentum and get control back, but Josef’s eyes saw only his own hands gripping the now-broken hilt of his sword, the warped, discolored blade of which was now lodged deep in the bloody mess that was Sted’s human shoulder.