Delphine felt the blood pounding in her body, yet she was as cold as ice. How such an unstable being as that which wavered before he could physically harm a man was more than she could understand, yet the red horror at her feet gave mute testimony that the fiend could act with terrible material effect. Of one thing, Delphine was sure; there would be no hunting of her across the dreary moors, no screaming and fleeing to be dragged down again and again. If she died, she would die in her tracks, her wounds in front. Now a vague and horrible mouth gaped wide, and the demoniac laughter again shrieked but, soul-shaking in its nearness.
And amid feat threat of doom, Delphine deliberately leveled her long sword and swung it around, once. A maniacal yell of rage and mockery answered the report, and the thing came at her like a flying sheet of smoke, long shadowy arms stretched to drag her down. Delphine, moving with the dynamic speed of a hungry wolf, swung her greatsword with as little effect, and she charges quickly towards the beast, and she uses her blade and thrusts into the center of the misty attacker. The blade sang as it passed clear through, encountering no substantial resistance, and Delphine felt icy fingers grip her limbs, cruel talons tear her garments and the skin beneath.
And the deadly beast went slowly before Delphine, and she pulls the Sword out from its Stomach and its blood stains the ground.
"I've had enough of you... Hellish Beast," Delphine said.
"And... who... are you? You who walk on this earth and carry your blade and soaks the tip of your sword with the blood of demons?" The demon asked.
"Me... I am your executioner. You reek of fear, and you kill innocents who walk this road," Delphine said. "I am the one who walks on this earth and hunts the creatures of darkness. And when I'm done with you, you will beg for forgiveness. Humanity ill needs an unholy monster such as yourself."
"You cannot triumph here, fool! You have no comprehension of what you are up against. You will taste my claws, and you will feel them rip through your body until you are dead. But enough talk, have at you!"
The beast began to charge quickly towards Delphine, and she started to charge quickly towards the beast, and a duel emerges. The beast charges towards Delphine, and he uses his claws, and he tries to attack Delphine; she blocks all of his attacks. Then, Delphine swings her greatsword, and she also tries to attack the demon, and he also blocks her attacks. Both Delphine's greatsword and the demon's claws began to be clashing with each other; each blow was like a thunderbolt. They clashed openly and quickly, and each swing of their attacks began to shake the ground and was like a hammer going through the tip of a nail.
They clashed and didn't miss each other as they kept fighting and swinging their weapons, and none of them gave in. Again, the beast charges towards Delphine, and he uses his claws, and he tries to attack Delphine; she blocks all of his attacks. Then again, Delphine swings her greatsword, and she also tries to attack the demon, and he also blocks her attacks. And yet, both Delphine's greatsword and the demon's claws began to be clashing with each other; each blow was like a bolt of lightning. Delphine was not one to give in to her enemies, and she was not one to surrender; she was a demon hunter who would fight on to the very end.
They clashed and didn't miss each other as they kept clashing and swinging their weapons; neither one of them surrendered. Yet again, the beast charges towards Delphine and uses his claws, and he tries to attack Delphine; she blocks all of his attacks. Then yet again, Delphine swings her greatsword and also tries to attack the demon, and he also blocks her attacks. And yet again, both Delphine's greatsword and the demon's claws began to be clashing with each other; each blow was like a large earthquake. Delphine lived a life of darkness and despair, and her only purpose in this cursed world is to defeat the demons of hell in any form that they exist in.
They clashed, and they did not miss each other as they kept fighting and swinging their weapons; both fighters refused to accept defeat. Once more, the beast charges towards Delphine and uses his claws, and he tries to attack Delphine and she blocks all of his attacks. Then once more, Delphine swings her greatsword and also tries to attack the demon; he seemed to have the same luck and skill as she had. Both Delphine's greatsword and the demon's claws began to be clashing with each other; each blow was as if the gods themselves watched this battle commence. Delphine did not know what her fate would be, but she knew that she must hunt, fight, and kill until she seeks and defeats the Grim Reaper.
They clashed, and they did not miss each other as they kept clashing and swinging their weapons, and none of them gave in. And then, with all of her anger and fury, Delphine uses her greatsword and stabs the demon in its chest, and she pulls back the sword. Lots of blood began to splatter all over the place, and lots of gore started to stain the ground they were standing on.
"Took you a long time to get me. That should make this moment sweeter... but not enough to wash away the bitter taste of failure," the demon said.
And then, both Delphine's sword and the demon's claws clash with each other, and one final blow was drawn between them. The last blow that each wielder used against themselves was so sharp that the ground itself began to shake. And then, Delphine counters the attack and uses her greatsword, and she stabs the demon onto his chest. She pushes the sword deep into the creature's gullet, and more Blood began to drain out of his body and fall onto the solid ground. Then, Delphine pulls the sword out of the demon's chest, and she goes for the final killing blow onto the demon.
She goes towards the demon, and she cuts off his head; it flew off his body, and the rest of his body fell onto the ground. And so, the battle between Delphine and the giant demon ended during this long night as the blood moon shines high in the sky. Her long, beautiful blonde hair began to breeze with the wind that blew around her as the night carried on. Delphine puts the sword back to her sheathe, and she went north and walked forward on the long, dark road that went ever on and on. As she walked, she saw a massive hut that was next to the way that she was walking on, and she decided to go towards that hut.
But, before she could do that, she went to the village of Torkertown, and she told her tale to the ones who were guarding the walls with their very lives. The hut of old Ezra, the miser, stood by the road amid the swamp, half screened by the sullen trees which grew about it. The wall was rotting, the roof crumbling, and great pallid and green fungus-monsters clung to it and writhed about the doors and windows as if seeking to peer within. The trees leaned above it, and their grey branches intertwined so that it crouched in semi-darkness like a monstrous dwarf over whose shoulder ogres leer. The road, which wound down into the swamp among rotting stumps and rank hummocks and scummy, snake-haunted pools and bogs, crawled past the hut.
Many people passed that way these days, but few saw old Ezra, save a glimpse of a yellow face, peering through the fungus-screened windows, itself like an ugly fungus. Old Ezra, the miser, partook much of the quality of the swamp, for he was gnarled and bent and sullen; his fingers were like clutching parasitic plants, and his locks hung like drab moss above eyes trained to the murk of the swamplands. His eyes were like a dead man's, yet hinted of depths abysmal and loathsome as the dead lakes of the swamplands. These eyes gleamed now at the woman who stood in front of his hut. This woman was tall and gaunt and dark, her face was smooth and claw-marked, and she was bandaged of arm and leg.
"You are Ezra of the swamp road?" Delphine asked.
"Aye, and what want ye of me?" Ezra asked.
"Where is your cousin Gideon, the maniac youth who abode with you?" She asked.
"Gideon?" He asked.
"Yes."
"He wandered away into the swamp and never came back. No doubt, he lost his way and was set upon by wolves or died in a swamp or was struck by an adder."
"How long ago?"
"Over a year."