Like Hell (Citrinas POV)

Citrinas watched Varrick march forward, his footsteps accompanied by a soft squish of metal upon liquefied meat. She grit her teeth, watching him walk forward with Daria, Belsach, and Bell on his heels. She looked at the rusted giant, his blue eyes meeting her remaining eye for half a second before scanning the area for something. She felt nothing but blind hatred and self loathing, every second of their presence a reminder of her own stupidity and Verdi's idealistic naivety.

She should have ignored Verdi’s demands and killed them. It would have been so easy. Slit their throats, and they’d be gone. He would have hated her, cursed her, perhaps he might have even never spoken to her ever again. She didn’t care how much she hated him as long as he was not locked in that hell. The odds of taking down Eren were gone with the rest of them joining. And she could only blame herself for going along with Verdi’s blind idealism.

Fenri laid next to her, coughing and sputtering blood as she fought to remain conscious, her teeth stained red as she tried to gasp for air. She had scrapes and bruises all over her skin, her old scars torn open while new ones would form if she lived to see another day. Her left arm was bent in a weird way at the forearm while her right hand had only her index and middle finger intact, the remaining fingers also broken from Eren’s kick. The worst part, however, was her spine. Eren had stomped on it, snapping it like glass and crippling her from the waist down. She was conscious only from sheer spite, her body far too mangled to be any threat.

Citrinas clenched her fist, her four fingers drenched in blood as she stared at them with her remaining eye, hoping she could kill with her gaze alone. She tried to chant and cast a spell but the pain left her mind in a haze. She couldn't focus. She was too angry to craft a proper spell. She had trained her entire life to stifle emotions and complete spells, yet she couldn't focus at this moment. She could only watch helplessly as Varrick spoke to Eren, his voice a mere hushed whisper.

“Is he sealed?” He asked casually, glancing around the arena in search of Verdi as Eren nodded.

“Yes. He's gone.” He answered, his words earning no reaction from Varrick or any of the others by his side.

“Did he really deserve this?” Varrick continued, clenching his sword tightly as he stared deeply at Eren. Citrinas could tell that Varrick had his doubts, but it was a choice between an amnesiac and the man who raised him. Varrick quietly looked at the crowd, noting the impact of the Gate on their psyche. A full third had died. Another third was crying while the last portion was cowering in terror and begging for someone to save them.

“Yes.” Eren said quietly. As he answered, Varricks’s sword remained dormant, the lie detection not reacting in the slightest. “If you knew his past, you’d know, this was the best outcome for him. All of you would agree he deserved this.” He continued as Varrick clenched his sword.

“Did these people also deserve this?” He asked coldly, his voice filled with venom. “Did these people deserve this?” Varrick repeated, his voice laden with shame as Citrinas saw his hands tremble. Bloodlust and hate emanated from behind him as Belsach, Daria, and Bell scowled, their expression alone enough to kill.

“You guys have to trust me. He had to be sealed or killed no matter-”

“I did trust you. I trusted you when my gut screamed at me not to.” Varrick interjected while looking at the ground. “And because I was too stupid to see the truth, an innocent man is locked in the Gates. Thousands are dead. And it’s all my fault.” He said as he clenched his sword tighter, his grip alone on the verge of snapping the enchanted blade.

“Do you really want to fight me?” Eren asked, watching Varrick take on a fighting stance, his body shaking as though he was restraining himself from attacking.

“No. I don’t.” Varrick conceded, his sword’s lie detection silent. “But I’ll kill you anyway.” He said coldly as he reached to his helmet. At the same time, Daria flew backwards, a blast of compressed air shooting her off the stage as Varrick threw his helmet away. As soon as the rusted helm left his head, Citrinas gulped and shut her eyes to a mere squint, bracing herself for what was to come.

He had long blonde hair that was tied into a bun, the helmet doing nothing to disturb his hair. He had a firm jawline and a flawless complexion seen only in mastercrafted statues. His dazzling blue eyes shimmered as divine light emanated from his very skin, his Blessing coming to life now that the helmet suppressing it was removed.

His body tensed up as Daria let out a pained cry, the vampire’s skin coated in blisters as his divine magic poured unceasingly from him, scalding the undead’s skin like acid. Her eyes went bloodshot while her ivory white skin was scalded red despite launching herself across the arena, Varrick’s Blessing reaching her with ease. Yet, despite the burns, despite how her eyes looked ready to melt from their sockets, she continued to look to Varrick, her loving gaze alone empowering him to the limit.

The Goddess of Beauty was one of the most malevolent deities when it came to monsters. She had but one simple rule to her Blessing. The more beloved her worshippers were to others, the greater her boon was to them. It was this cursed Blessing that had left Varrick entombed within his armor, his mere visage like acid to anyone that wasn’t human. Even a divine elemental infusion couldn't hope to fully protect a monster from her wrath, merely delay its effects.

His power seemed to grow exponentially as cracks ran down his rusted armor, the divine magic shattering it like glass as his bare chest was exposed, the divine light dancing across his toned body. Daria continued to watch him as Varrick took a step forward, the pair nearly unstoppable together. Sparks and divine magic flew as Eren’s fist and Varrick’s sword struck one another, Eren’s left knuckle striking the blade of Varrick’s sword, his skin somehow unharmed by the paladin’s strike. Citrinas felt nothing but dread as Varrick was staggered, his strength unable to break Eren's skin. What kind of nightmare was he? Just when she thought it was all for naught, there was a bitter, acrid smell as Eren's skin burned, the divine magic eating away at his body. She went pale, realizing the implication.

“He's a hybrid just like Verdi.” She thought, Varrick's sword bouncing away as Eren's body started to burn, albeit with minimal impact on his fighting strength. As if expecting the parry, Varrick spun the opposite direction, using the **** from Eren’s punch to empower himself further as he swung at the hero’s throat. Though he caught the blow, the sight of such an elegant swing caused Daria's heart to flutter, as Eren blocked the attack with his left forearm. Black ichor poured from his wound, only to be cauterized in the same breath. Varrick had cut him.

“Drink. We’re leaving.” Tristiana whispered as Citrinas felt a bottle get shoved against her lips, the familiar taste of a high grade potion filling her mouth as she felt her eye and finger stop bleeding, new skin growing over the missing portions. She felt a squirming in her eye socket as the nerves started to heal, but she knew it would take weeks of constant potion consumption to fully regain her eye. Grabbing the bottle, Citrinas quickly pressed it against Fenri’s lips, hoping to heal her spine and join the fight against Eren. As soon as she pressed the bottle against Fenri’s lips, a wave of nausea and weakness overtook her body as Citrinas fought the urge to puke.

At first she thought it was mere blood loss that disoriented her, yet as she released the potion and let Fenri drink, she felt the nausea fade away in an instant. Her eye went wide as she realized Hunt was still active, the act of giving a potion considered an interference in the divine duel. Her heart palpitated as her breathing grew frantic as she grabbed Fenri’s right arm and shook it both to get her attention and make sure it was still usable.

“Hunt’s still active!” She shouted as Fenri’s eyes went wide, instantly understanding what she meant. If Hunt was active, then Verdi was still alive. If he was still alive, it meant there was still hope to save him.

Hunt was an ability specialized in dueling. Anyone who interfered in a Hunt was weakened. If the caster was significantly stronger than the target, the target would have a head start. The winner of the Hunt could claim stats from the loser. Those were the main rules of Hunt, but there was one use that even Citrinas didn’t know about until Fenri had brought it up. If the target of a Hunt was hiding in a pocket dimension like Domain or say an Apollyon Gate, she could drag them back out.

“You have anything stronger?” Fenri asked before coughing a mouthful of blood. Citrinas looked at her injuries, the hero’s body far too mangled to heal in a few seconds even with top grade potions. Evangeline was still ****, and even she would be hard pressed to heal a spine broken this badly. Healing and life magic were both magics far outside her ability, but she knew Tristiana knew her way around healing magic. A spine was far outside her ability, but fixing an arm was well within her skills.

“No, we’re done. The world’s saved. We’re going home.” Tristiana said firmly, unwilling or uninterested in saving Verdi. In the background, they could hear Varrick and Eren fighting, the screech of steel upon steel like the land itself was wailing out in pain. She heard a crash as a metal blade flew past her, Eren's fist shattering the sword in half. Even empowered with Daria’s gaze, Varrick wasn’t going to win. There was no chance of victory against him. Despite that, she wasn't going to run.

“He saved us. You’re going to leave him?” Citrinas asked, watching her sister look away from her, unable to make eye contact for once. This wasn’t right. Her sister was always noble. She wouldn’t abandon someone who risked his life for them, right? After a moment of silence, she spoke, her voice filled with genuine respect.

“... Your friend was-is the first and last line of defense we have against that thing.” She said, her voice quivering as Citrinas saw fear in Tristiana’s eyes. “He needs to be in there and hold it back. We can't let him out.” As she said those words, Citrinas couldn’t help but wince, still remembering her experience with that thing. It was suffering incarnate. She couldn't see a flaw in Tristiana's argument.

One person’s life against the lives of everyone else. Just one life. When this was over, she could spread word of his deeds. Let everyone know about the greatest hero who ever lived, and how he had fought a battle against the apocalypse itself. He’d finally get the fame and recognition he always wanted. He'd get the statues and stories of him spread throughout the continent. She knew Tristiana would help. He'd be famous like he always wanted. She looked down at Fenri, the two sharing a look before giving a soft nod, the pair reaching the same conclusion. There was no question what the right choice was.

“Wait, stop!” Tristiana shouted as Citrinas threw Fenri’s broken arm around her shoulder, running towards the arena where Varrick and Eren were having their showdown. She could feel Tristiana grab at the air behind her, snagging a few stray hairs off her head as she sprinted forward. As Tristiana tried to pursue her, she yelped as a wave of divine magic scalded her skin, Varrick’s Blessing burning her alive. Citrinas and Fenri looked at Varrick, the pair taking in the sight of him.

He was bloodied and beaten, patches of skin were torn off while his left ear had been bitten off. He had 3 broken fingers, his jaw was dangling as if unhinged, and they could see he was missing half his teeth. A chunk of his blonde hair was ripped off, leaving a bald, bloodied patch in its wake. He was holding only half his sword, the other half embedded in the wall after Eren had broken it. He’d been torn apart in the span of less than a minute.

Yet, there was a beauty to his struggle.

Even with his body breaking down, even though he had no hope of victory or even survival, he continued to fight. It was beautiful. It was at this silent praise that Varrick’s Blessing surged in power, his injuries healing faster than even Verdi’s regeneration or Evangeline’s magic. She fixated on how beautiful his battle was, the elegance he showed staving off **** to right his wrongs.

“Hold out. I know you can do it. I know you can help us save Verdi.” Citrinas thought, running forward with Fenri on her shoulder. Varrick just had to hold out for another few seconds. Just a few more steps and they’d get Verdi back out. Yet, she could see the impossibility of such a demand. Every hit Eren landed let him strike Varrick 5 more times. Every second Varrick grew stronger, Eren moved faster and hit harder, as though he was merely toying with Varrick until now.

“Pelrin! Stop her!” Tristiana commanded, leaving the arena to escape Varrick’s Blessing. As she shouted her command, as a blur flew right at Citrinas, a hand reaching for her throat. It was a right uppercut identical to Eren’s attacks. It was expected he’d have the same fighting style. Pelrin was Eren's successor to the Company of Roses, after all. Capturing a single mage would be child’s play to him. Just a little bit more. She had to get a little bit further.

“Fuck off brat.” A gravelly voice spat, a holy flame cloaked sword thrusting in front of Citrinas in the blink of an eye. She could hear a man click his tongue as the blur flew backwards, narrowly dodging the sword thrust as Belsach stood next to Citrinas, his holy elemental infusion shielding him from Varrick’s divine magic. He looked Citrinas, his wart encrusted face somehow both repulsive and reassuring. “Grab him!” Belsach commanded, instantly understanding their plan as Varrick moved.

He swung his sword in a vast arc as Eren dodged, the blade crushing the ground and sending a cloud of debris forward. Citrinas couldn’t see Varrick’s figure, but he could see the divine light cloaking him dive forward at Eren at breakneck speeds. Moving out of instinct, Eren dove out of the cloud, the holy light fumbling off the arena in an almost comical manner. It was a full second before everyone realized the trick as Varrick’s hand shot out of the dust cloud, grabbing Eren’s leg while his sword clattered across the ground, divine magic still cloaking it. He threw Eren to the ground and pinned him, his holy flames at the height of their power.

This was it.

She ran forward as fast as her legs would take her, ignoring everything and everyone else. From the corner of her eye, she could see the rest of the Roses leaping into the arena, the mercenaries likely taking cover the second the Gates were opened. She could feel magic welling up around them as the mercenaries began casting spells to push her back, only to be countered by spells from Daria and Bell. She could hear steel clashing upon steel as the former second in command of the Roses dueled its current leader. In front of her, she could see Varrick holding Eren down, his body breaking as Eren tried to break free.

The first time she blinked, Eren’s fist had broken Varrick’s skin, his left rib exposed to the world. Another blink. She took a step, only to fall forward as though the ground had shifted. Pain ravaged her as she felt a searing pain at her left thigh and warmth on her right thigh. She looked down to see her leg was severed, one of Varrick’s ribs embedded in the coliseum's walls behind her. He’d used Varrick as a weapon. At the same time, Varrick’s Blessing disappeared as she spotted Daria clutching her eyes and screaming out in pain, a few stray grains of sand thrown by Eren slicing them open.

She couldn't walk anymore. Her leg was gone. She was going to bleed out. She'd seen it so many times. She was going to die. And Verdi was going to be trapped in that hellscape. She had to find a way forward. She had to save him. If they couldn’t live together, they would die together.

“I can compress the air and hit Fenri to launch her forward. No, not enough time to compress the air. I’m going to fall. He’s going to kill Varrick in the next blow. It hurts. I can't stand. I can't feel my leg. I can't feel my leg.” She thought, trying to walk on a limb she was missing as her mind fell into pure chaos. How did Verdi just ignore dismemberment so easily? Why didn't he scream or panic from his injuries? What could she do?

“What would he do?” She asked herself, putting herself in his shoes as she muttered a quick spell. She just had to push Fenri forward a little bit. She couldn’t compress air and shoot it fast enough, formulaic magic was too slow for that. But flash boiling water and aiming it forward? It was within her ability. The formula was simple. She braced herself for the pain that would inevitably occur, but all the preparation in the world would not have kept her from screaming.

She could feel her skin peel, her nerves fray and fire off signals of pain as she boiled all the water in her dismembered leg exploded. It was agony as the steam burned her skin and **** her forward. She screamed out in pain, the sensation of burning alive the worst agony she had endured. She wanted the pain to stop, but even with all the searing agony, she was content as they were sent forward one final step. There was no time for Eren to react. No way for him to stop her as Varrick rolled onto his back, holding Eren on top of him as Fenri thrusted her right hand forward, a knife clutched between her non-broken fingers.

As the blade touched Eren’s skin, divine light shot from her hand, her Blessing taking effect as she cut space itself, ripping a hole straight into the Apollyon Gates. Citrinas felt her blood run cold as the Thing in the Gates stared at them, her eyes one of pure disbelief at their intrusion. They felt their blood run cold as that thing bore down on them, their minds fraying as Fenri grabbed Verdi by the hand. In one swift movement she yanked him back, dragging him back from the Gates as the portal closed. Time almost seemed to stop for everyone as the trio rolled across the ground in a heap of limbs. She looked over, trying to gauge his current health only to pause and shudder.

What had that thing done to him?

His skin was healthy, devoid of the slightest wrinkle while his hair was its normal dark brown color. She could feel the holy aura that blanketed him wash over her, his presence like one of a rabbit or a puppy. He had been sent into the Gates when he was wearing nothing but his own blood, yet now he was wearing a strange gray uniform that seemed custom fit to his body and strange leather boots from some animal she had never seen before. Cloaked around his back was a strange leathery coat with no marks on it save for a black rose stitched on the back of the uniform with Ancient Helverian written across the back. She didn't care much for the outfit he had, likely scavenging it from the Gates. His face was what concerned her.

His eyes were closed, as if he couldn’t handle normal sunlight. The usual chipper and arrogant attitude he had was gone, as was his fear or anger. She couldn't describe his expression, yet, when she looked at him, she felt the urge to cry. His body language was absent, as though he were a golem instead of a person. Rather than being paralyzed or terrified of him, she felt the opposite urge well up in her. She wanted to hug him and tell him everything was alright. That he was safe, and she’d never let that thing get him ever again. She couldn’t look away from his face.

He just looked so tired.