Land one hit.
That's all he had to do.
Land one hit.
And Lucius could not do it.
The moonlit room of status was permeated by the sound of a slab of metal being hoisted around– yet no subsequent impact sound. Each furious swing cleaved nothing and each grunt-packed jab pierced a target that wasn't there. Any regular demon would have been halved, yet Cain weaved the string of Lucius's attacks without effort. The demon made a point to dodge with his hands clasped behind him to display the chasm of power between the two.
Lucius knew it was futile to try killing him. But, maybe–just maybe–he could land a hit and live. There was no strategy, no wits about him, or any reason why he impetuously swung his demon-killing blade despite Cain evading them. Nothing except desperation, fear, and a bottomless will to stay alive.
The demon grew tired of being on the defensive. He wanted Lucius to hurt. So, in a demonstration of greater speed, Cain eluded a beheading attempt by vanishing from Lucius's line of sight entirely. Lucius believed he won, that–without realizing–he successfully landed a hit.
Not until he felt Cain's back weigh upon his own. Fear drummed at his heart. With tucked arms, the demon uttered:
"Your swings lack meaning. You're only fighting to survive. That's not what I want."
The weight upon Lucius's back was alleviated, so he swiveled around to face Cain, but was promptly met with a fist which smashed into his face. With a CRACK! sound, and the demon hunter's head whipped back whilst blood flung from his nose. He stumbled around before getting his bearings and attempted to slash at the demon once more. The pain didn't set in until after a moment of numbness, to which Cain dulled with a forceful chest punch that intercepted his swing and fractured a few ribs.
And another to his gut. And another to his face.
Such was the onset of a vicious beating, a series of imperceptibly quick shots with intentions to injure every part of him.
Pain tried desperately to reach the surface, to tell Lucius's body it knew it was hurting, but it was dragged back down to the depths of numbness with each of Cain's blows. The demon hunter's consciousness held on, but each of the demon's strikes added slack to its grip. His ears rang, his vision blurred, and his legs buckled.
No thoughts, only pain.
Yet, on the precipice of defeat, he was still standing– much to Cain's visible amusement.
"I admire your willpower. Yes, show me that I can beat you more!"
And Cain punctuated his excitement by grabbing his face and hurling him into the grayed wall, producing a man-sized hole in an explosion of dust and debris; its stones clattered to the equally-colored ground.
Cain took in the sight of what he'd done and marveled at his intemperate violence's results. He believed it was over. And, yet, emerging from the cavity, Lucius stumbled forth with his blade in hand. This raised Cain's brows. But, he was at his limit; he collapsed, and Cain's brows rested.
And as his blurred vision was gradually consumed by a pit of blackness, Lucius heard Cain speak:
"You fought well, but I am violence. The only way to beat me is with more violence, superior violence– righteous violence."
"Then I'll show you," a voice called out.
A beaten Lucius's sight fully blackened, and the last thing he could make out was that familiar voice, one that put his woes to rest alongside his ability to stay awake:
Virgil.
The sound of the substitute leader's steps echoed off the walls. A smile crept upon Cain's lips in the face of an icy-blue glare.
"Virgil. Fancy meeting you here," he replied.
"I'm not here for formalities," Virgil retorted with bass.
"Ooh. Are you here to fight me? You know I'd win."
"Fight you?"
Virgil gripped the hilt of his blade and assumed a quickdraw stance.
"I'm here to kill you."
Virgil knew the stakes. Had he lost, Michael would surely be killed and the demon before him would be free to kill the rest of his group. So, he'd cut Cain down with one attack– he surmised he wouldn't get another opportunity to.
A chuckle escaped Cain's shut mouth as he balled his fists and put them close to his face.
One chance.
Red and blue intertwined as the demon and demon hunter clashed stares with eyes that knew the outcome if either of them lost.
One chance.
A silent breeze swept across the two from the shattered window Noel had fallen out of. Then, both Virgil and Cain acted with explosiveness; both vanished and reappeared at the throne room's center, backs facing each other.
The winner of the exchange was not made apparent immediately– until Virgil spoke.
"It's over," he proclaimed as he slid his blade back into its sheath.
Just then, Cain's chest exploded with a brutal spectacle of blood; the demon hunter had cut him open with one attack. But, instead of dropping dead, Cain dropped to his knees and produced a hearty chuckle.
"That's the Virgil I know."
No response from the demon hunter, only the sound of demon blood dripping.
"Michael's alive," he continued whilst rising to his feet, "he's merely asleep. Let him rest for a while. Virgil..."
A grin grew as a provocative thought blossomed in his head.
"... I wonder when you'll finally do it."
With a nefarious laugh punctuating his taunt, Cain burst through the castle's rooftop with a single leap and left the scene.