Round #2, Duel #2

BlackSand was blossoming. After years of hard work, Azazel finally felt like things might be working out for the city. The Tournament was advancing smoothly. The new racing championship had started. And now a new idea around a sports league had started to float around.

“Interesting times for BlackSand” Archmagus Crowley said as he spotted Azazel’s smiling face. “Indeed very interesting, my dear friend” Azazel answered before lowering his death eater mask over his face. Nothing forced him to wear it, but it had become second nature.

The two wizards made their way back to the tournament grounds to initiate the second duel of Round #2. “Exciting to be so close to the semifinals. I can already taste the crowd’s…” Crowley started, but Azazel interrupted him. “Not now. Let’s focus on this duel.”

“May the fight begin” Azazel announced, as the crowd exploded in cheers.

On one side of the arena stood Gadreel, holding his heavy chainsaw as if it was a light, wooden practice sword. On the other side was Valen: in his hands a massive axe, and a round, wooden shield.

Both warriors had won their first duel thanks to their resilience and brute force. They had managed to absorb heavy hits, to then strike back with impressive violence. Azazel was eager to see what their strategy would look like in today’s fight.

Gadreel was the first to attack. As soon as the duel started, he sprinted, hurling his chainsaw forward. Valen was ready. As Gadreel’s chainsaw approached, Valen raised his axe to intercept. A loud clung erupted as the two weapons collided.

Valen was quicker to react, he lunged and with a swift strike he aimed at his opponent legs. Gadreel did not move fast enough and Valen’s axe hit.

Gadreel yelled in pain but immediately found the strength to push his opponent away with a violent punch. It was now his turn to attack. Gadreel charged, almost as if unaware of the open wound and blood spilling from his right leg.

Valen raised his shield and assumed a defensive stance.

Right before striking, Gadreel swung the chainsaw towards the ground, into the black sand of the pit. The impact of the running chain lifted a massive amount of sand that hit Valen. Surprised and with his vision blocked, Valen lost balance in attempting to take a few blind steps backwards.

“Clever!” Archmagus Crowley observed. Oddly, Battle Mage Hothor turned his thumb downwards in disapproval of the seemingly unfair attack.

Gadreel followed through with his plan: the blinded opponent was an easy prey. Gadreel swung the chainsaw aiming for a fatal hit close to Valen’s neck. Valen managed to move, but not to evade.

The chainsaw hit. Valen screamed. He had avoided a deadly hit, but the chainsaw cut through him, severing his left arm right below the elbow.

The crowd went silent.

“My arm!” Valen yelled in a mix of pain and disbelief. A grin appeared on Gadreel’s face.

Not yet satisfied, he moved to finish his opponent with another strike. He hurled the chainsaw forward and this time Valen wasn’t fast enough. The loud, rotating chain hit Valen’s chest piercing right through his armor.

Valen eye’s bursted wide open in shock. He started coughing blood and gasping for air. But that hit had wrecked his chest open. Valen let go of his axe. “I…will not…” but before he could finish that sentence his energy gave out and he dropped to the ground.

Cries and scream emerged from the crowd: “Is he dead!?” “Someone do something!” “Help him!”

In triumph, Gadreel raised his chainsaw, now drenched in Valen’s blood.

“Gadreel wins!” Azazel hurried to declare before turning to Hothor. “Hothor get the Necromancers. NOW!”

Azazel had contemplated the scenario of participants dying on the pit. But he wasn't expecting that it would actually happen. “We have tens of Attendants that should stop this from happening!” he yelled in frustration, punching the wooden bleachers in front of him.

“Hothor, NOW!”