As Vince drew his sword, the stage for his and Cain's performance was finally set. A sorrowful melody of claws and steel filled the air, and to the rhythm of this hunter's lullaby, the all too familiar danse macabre began.
With its shallow wound disappearing without a trace already, the enormous body slowly lowered itself closer to the ground. Preparing to lunge again, the Beast stretched out its arms in an intimidating fashion and let out a violent, rageful screech. The menacing stature tested Vince's resolve, thankfully his more experienced supervisor remained rather unimpressed and didn't bother hesitating. Allowing his instincts to guide the way Cain stepped forward and while far outspeeding the Beast, aimed a powerful blow at its poking head. Severed by his slash, strands of the black mane flew chaotically into the air, uncovering at last the devil's cursed visage. It looked disturbingly like a human skull, though twisted and deformed beyond recognition. The head was flattened and lacked its lower jaw, leaving only the pair of swollen, uneven eyes as the dominating feature. Tattered flaps of skin dangled from either side of the unholy face, linked just now by the jagged slash, a mark of Cain's merciless swordsmanship.
Still, as the wound began regenerating almost instantly, the triumph proved terribly short-lived. Only Gods may know what happened to it, but somewhere along the way not only did the Beast's size grow, but the potency of its regenerative powers increased greatly too. Taken aback by this, Cain cursed under his breath and hastily tried to jump away. This time, unfortunately, he was the one to be forestalled.
Screeching in pain, the Beast clamped the claws of its left hand together into a primitive spearhead and answered with a quick and dangerous counter. In effect, aimed roughly at the commander's still slightly exposed torso, a savage blow flew in from the side. Unprepared for it, Cain barely scraped enough time to react, managing in the end only a sub-par, risky block. An eerie, chilling sound of quivering steel reverberated throughout the arena, and the Hound was pushed back, struggling to maintain footing. For now, it could be said, that he luckily got by, nevertheless the assault was not over just yet. Leaving no room to breathe, the Beast raised its other arm high into the air, casting a shadow over the hunter's figure and preparing to slam down on it. The whole situation turned grave surprisingly fast, however, as the conflict's pace increased, somehow Cain seemed only more and more enthralled. Like an adrenaline junkie, he grinned from ear to ear, seeing the next attack loom over him. Still, with how he answered, it was clear that despite the unexpected change in his behavior, he had everything well under control.
Cain leaned forward driving his weight against the claws and using the monster's own force to deflect the attack with a quick shift of his body. As the momentum carried through, he dropped into a crouch and rolled aside, narrowly escaping the strike. Seizing the moment while the Beast remained overextended, he tightened his grip on the sword handle and on top of all that, unleashed a powerful sweeping slash at the creature's wrist. The blow landed with devastating precision, cleaving through flesh and bone to entirely sever the devil's hand. Black blood splattered around and the whole underground rumbled from the ear-shattering roar. Amidst the chaos Cain jumped back a little, catching a much-needed breath and getting ready to swing right back into the clash.
"I hope you didn't come here just to watch!"
He shouted to Vince, who after getting a glimpse of what this battle would look like, had yet to join it. Despite his previous eagerness, the young Hound now struggled to shake off his feelings of doubt. His eyes wandered around uncontrollably, his hands were shaking and numerous drops of sweat slowly poured down his forehead. He was no stranger to battle, but this… This was something else entirely. The way Cain and the Daylight Beast moved and exchanged blows was unreal. Vince wanted to help, he really did, but could his desire alone be enough to not only stand beside the others but keep up with them too?
"You think too much kid. Hounds are meant to fight, not ponder. We run on instincts, not logic."
The commander's voice cut in between the young Hound's thoughts, forcefully snapping him back to reality and subtly pushing him towards the metaphorical crossroad.
Vince had a tendency to overanalyze, to limit his approach by relying heavily on previous planning. The uncomfortable truth, however, is that a hunt has no room for such logic. Detached from the real world, this place is not ruled by knowledge and order. This is a domain of chaos, ruled by instinct and ego. An environment built on a selfish will to conquer, to consume the weak and challenge the strong, and to lay waste onto everything in your path. All until you either perish or finally stand at the very top. This is the essence of the hunt, the ugly pathway to unrivaled strength. What Vince wished for was buried right here, sadly he was still far from fully realizing it. Before he could come to any solid conclusion about the meaning behind Cain's words of advice, his time to think was cut short. With the monstrous body twisting and turning, clearly setting up for another assault, the interlude was reaching its end.
Just like Cain said, there was no more time to hesitate. Instinct of logic. Kill or be killed.
The Beast's claws lunged forward, this time targeting the younger hunter. Vince stepped up to face them, but years of relying on strategy and calculation weren't so easily undone by just a few words. Change like that couldn't happen overnight. Still, he forced himself to, at least for a moment, tap into the instincts he had grown to suppress. Briefly merging theory with practice, he focused on replicating the moves Cain showed before, determined to put his philosophy to the test. The young Hound locked onto the path of the incoming strike, holding his position until the last possible moment. As the claws closed in, however, he didn't waste his time trying to block, instead, he sidestepped with a sharp, precise motion, slipping right past them. Though the move left him unsteady, he quickly regained control, tightened his grip on the sword, and channeled every ounce of strength into mimicking the severing slash. His mind might have been in the right place, but unfortunately the same could not be said about his skills. As all Vince could manage was a moderately deep cut, he was promptly reminded just how wide the gap between him and real hunters was. That said, for a change, his efforts didn't go completely unrecognized.
"Yeah! Just like that!"
Cain commented, following in his fellow Hound's footsteps. His blade sparked once again as he tried to proficiently finish, what his companion began. Fortune, however, seemed to favor him no longer. Before the strike could connect, Cain was unexpectedly swept off his feet by the Beast's tail and plunged into the mixture of blood and sewer water beneath. Vince, distracted by what had befallen his superior too, failed to notice a strike aimed right at him. The stump of the monster's previously severed hand slammed hard into his back, sending him flying high into the air.
"Ugh!"
He groaned, planking head-first into the ground and rolling over a few times. The icy cold water ran up his nose and mouth, nearly drowning the hunter, as he tried to cough it all up. Alongside all this, little by little, the sews on his back too, began to come undone. Not enough for the blood to crystalize outside yet, thankfully, but if Vince didn't before, he surely had to pay attention to it now.
Immanent danger shifted back at Cain, who although managed to avoid taking a sip of the sewer waters, found himself in a much worse position. Trying again, the Beast raised its hand over him and forcefully slammed the claws down. Time to react was too short and even with an attempted roll to the side, Cain didn't manage to fully avoid the strike. As one of the claws stabbed into the commander's arm, throughout the arena echoed a sound of ripped flesh, then a crack of bone, and finally a painful cry.
'Get up, get up, get up for fucks sake!'
Vince repeated to himself, spitting out the rest of the water and hastily trying to stand back up. Bones in his body rattled with each movement, his skin was hot and the injuries felt like they were about to burst open any second now. Tears welled up in the young Hound's eyes as he bit down on his lip and forced himself to push forward.
'You can't let that happen again… Hunt!'
As he drifted in and out of consciousness, from the ever-increasing number of wounds, Vince's body moved on its own. The instincts he had tried to tap into earlier fully took over, though this time, it was beyond his control. With his sense of danger dulled and pain numbed by his fading awareness, he rushed toward the spot where Cain had been struck. His eyes, distant and hollow, seemed to focus somewhere else, while his labored breaths took on an almost animalistic tone. It was clear Vince was no longer fully present, but this proved to be his and Cain's saving grace. The young Hound's blade sparked like lightning and struck like thunder, slicing the Beast's arm clean in half a mere moment later.
Cain's eyes widened in shock as he witnessed the weakest Hound so unexpectedly display such a feat. Still, he didn't allow the amazement to keep him on the floor for too long. Assisting himself with his sword, he sluggishly retreated a few meters back and took a brief moment to check up on his injuries. The Beast's claw stabbed quite deeply, but all in all, it seemed like he got off somewhat lightly. The pain was crazy, sure, but trying to move his arm around, Cain could confidently confirm that the bone wasn't broken. It was all alright, he'll pull through.
Vince on the other hand, still in his trance, growled at the Beast, overlooking with malice how it stumbled around in pain. It was apparent that this thing wouldn't fall by normal means. Cutting off its arms was the easiest way of dealing considerable damage, but in the long run offered no real advantage. Being able to regenerate the Beast would eventually force the hunters into a battle of endurance, where they would surely fall much sooner than the monster. Without some kind of leverage, this fight was hopeless. In what remained of his sense, Vince seemed to somehow realize that.
The young Hound suddenly jumped forward, grabbing onto the fresh wound and using the flapping arm like a lift to the monster's back. Landing there the desired weak spot was found right beneath his feet. A single conjunction of muscles where the Beast's spine, neck, and front arms were all connected to each other. This was exactly what they needed to tip the scales, and Vince didn't hesitate one bit to grasp this opportunity. As he took up his blade and aimed it to pierce to vulnerable joint, however, the Beast fought back fiercely. Moving all of its arms to the sides, the monster suddenly fell onto the ground and began frantically slithering all over the arena, quickly throwing the hunter off of its back.
"Damn it!"
Cain cursed seeing Vince hit the ground, and hurried to help him. With the Beast now circling around them, the hypothetical, hopeless scenario slowly became the new reality.
"Hang in there boy."
After being pulled up from the water and lightly slapped across the face, Vince opened his eyes and gasped for air. Although shaken and roughed up, for better or worse, he was right back to his senses.
"Focus up... Now's a good time to make use of that brain of yours."
The commander ordered, helping Vince stand back straight and sticking with him back to back. Vince didn't answer him at first, fixing his gaze at the Beast. From what he was able to conclude based on his clouded memory and the situation around, they were trapped in a stalemate. The monster would circle around them, waiting for its damages to heal fully, and then jump back in, essentially resetting the whole battle to the point where it first began. To put a wrench in this plan would require the Hounds first to find a way to stop the monster in place and then deliver a blow to its weak point. With how injured they both were… Not one of these requirements was realistically within their reach. What could be done to make it out of here alive?
"I'VE GOT YOU NOW YOU FILTH!"
Suddenly, a new voice resonated throughout the arena. Recognizing it almost instantly, the eyes of both Hounds widened in shock. What Cain spoke about before, and what they both forgot in the process of fighting, proved true in the most crucial moment. There he was, on the opposite side of the plaza. Covered in blood and sweat, with his eyes burning and face twisted in a wide grin. Zachary was here, ready more than ever to finally put an end to this wild chase.
He drew his sword and made a quick cut along the inside of his hand. Black blood oozed from the wound, spilling into the water below and a mere moment later, the familiar scarlet vermin manifested. Within seconds, three centipedes raced toward the Beast, quickly closing the gap and halting it in its tracks. The massive insects swarmed over the creature, their mandibles sinking into its flesh without thought or mercy. With the Red Reaper's arrival, the balance of power shifted instantly. What had been a struggle between predators now became a one-sided hunt, with the Beast clearly marked as the prey.
"I'm not letting you slip away once more. This time I'll fucking bury you for sure!"
Zachary continued, shouting unsettlingly. Not often did he display his emotions in such a way, but assuming he'd been using Blood Sacrifice ever since Vince first saw him today, it could be that the bloodlust had already begun creeping up on him. To avoid tragedy it was best to join up with him and finish all this as quickly as possible.