TOS - Vol 2, Pt 4, Ch 36

The Overlord Saga

Vol II. Versus

Chapter 36: Yin and Yang

The battle went from slightly chaotic, to complete mayhem in a matter of seconds. When Belarus had lit the beacon atop the wall, the army had done two things. The first was that half of them had warped to various places, although some of them hadn’t thought too well about where they were warping and had, some of them, warped merely a foot away from their previous location. And the second was that the army had officially decided to forsake all plans that were previously made by the Scholar. As DIB and ANF soldiers clashed and intermingled, the battle had turned into a giant collision of fire and ice.

Centurion Ifill had begun holding the battered remains of the gates, ordering the Fort Effort troops from her steed. The Captain and the Lieutenant were each shooting at little winged goblins that were attempting to attack the Sabotage team, who was now stationed on the walltop. The Twin had begun working with how to break open the doors into the Fortress for those who did not have warping abilities. Jamie was clashing with a few little gremlin creatures that DIB had recruited, finding them more annoying that anything.

Some of the troops had broken into the Fortress already, though by means of warping. Sexist was one of those who had piggy-backed off of the Soul-Keeper (literally) a warp into the Fortress. Wandering the halls with his claymore, he found that the majority of the DIB soldiers were outside in the gardens, fighting off the ANF main force. He jogged into the northern portion of the second floor, mindful to keep away from where the Nemesis might be located (he wasn’t about to steal the Overlord’s glory or anything... though the look on her face might’ve been priceless when she found that he had killed the Nemesis before her).

“You!” He froze, turned, and glanced over his shoulder, claymore still in one hand. On the far end of the hall, he had expected to see the Nemesis, but found that Pharisee and Blondie had merely turned the corner in time to see him.

“Oh geez...” Sexist hung his head, turning to face the two DIB members.

“You damn traitor...” Pharisee snarled, “What do you think you’re doing here? Come to grovel to the Nemesis again? He freed you once, don’t think he’ll grant that favor again!”

“No...” Sexist replied, “I’m not here to beg. I’m not here to grovel. I’m here for one purpose and one only...”

“How easily you turn your back on the people that saved you,” Pharisee sneered.

“How easily you preach when you ought to be the one preached to,” Sexist sent a wave of water at Pharisee and Blondie before charging, swinging his claymore in time to clash with Blondie’s sword. The two blondes struggled against each other, but Sexist ultimately overpowered him. Knocking Blondie away, Sexist swung his sword at Pharisee next, catching the false prophet’s arm with his blade. Returning fire with a blow from his staff, Pharisee caused the ex-Insurgent General to stumble, in time for Blondie to lunge forward. Sexist was pinned against the railing, wrestling with Blondie. A careful kick to the stomach sent the DIB member back, and Sexist was able to duck under Pharisee’s fire spell.

Sexist sent a second wave of water at Pharisee, freezing the white-garbed magician’s feet to the floor. As he swung his sword, Pharisee broke through the ice, an explosion of magic wrapping through Sexist’s armor and sending him to his knees. Blondie swung his sword at Sexist’s head, but a careful throw of the arm made the blade sink into the ex-Insurgent General’s forearm. Sexist smashed Blondie against the wall with a fist, reaching down and grabbing his sword in time to stab Pharisee in the shoulder. Pharisee’s white robe was stained with crimson when he sank to his knees, attempting to heal himself.

“Weak,” Sexist snorted, “Both of you...”

As Blondie moved to retaliate from the insult, a katana blossomed from his chest, painted red. As it pulled out, the DIB member fell forward, presumably dead from the fatal blow. The Ninja-Lord stood there, still holding her katana with both hands.

“He’s so damn stupid,” the Ninja-Lord remarked, “I swear, it’s like he dies fifty times each battle.”

“I thought you had decided to sit this fight out?” Sexist asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I can never stay away from a good fight,” the Ninja-Lord smiled wryly before looking down at the bloodied Blondie, “I.... spoke out of turn. I owe it to the Overlord to be here for her when she needs me.” Without further explanation, she tossed a smoke bomb into the ground and vanished.

Pharisee gaped, staring at where Blondie had simply been run through with a sword. Sexist grabbed Pharisee by the neck in his shock, hauling him over the side of the rail. In desperation, Pharisee clung to Sexist’s arm, nails scraping the blonde’s arm plate. “Wait... Wait...” Pharisee breathed, “I’ll join you. I’ll fight with you. I can help you... I know magic...”

“You’re a coward,” Sexist sneered, releasing his grip on Pharisee’s collar. As the DIB member began to fall down towards the battle raging below, he sent a spell blasting into Sexist’s face, sending him flying backwards and slamming into the corridor wall. Pharisee landed in a heap on the ground, unconscious and laying amidst the combatants.

---

The Overlord arrived in the main corridor with a very classical kicking-down of the door. Having avoided all battle to save her strength for the Nemesis, she was surprised to find that the main hall was empty except for the members of the platoon she had sent earlier. “Swordmaster!” She called, moving quickly towards the huddled group. Stopping as soon as she realized that something was wrong, the Overlord tilted her head to the side, walking until she loomed over the Swordmaster and where he was crouched.

The Corporal was not faring well. Pale as a ghost and shaking, he lay on the ground, eyes still closed. The Sorceress was the only one attempting to heal him now, the Witch leaning back and shaking her head in dismay. “I-I’ve used up nearly all of my magic on him...” she whispered, looking at the Overlord in remorse. The Overlord removed her helmet, dropping to a knee next to the Sorceress.

“What’s wrong with him?” She asked, setting her helmet to the side.

“Poisoned...” the Sorceress was trying to concentrate her magic, but could not. She hung her head, taking in a deep breath before trying again. “He’s not getting better... I-I can’t...”

“He was always like a big brother to me...” the Overlord cast a glance at the Sorceress, perplexed a moment, then looking down at the pale Corporal’s face. She reached down suddenly, resting a hand on his chest, “I have... An idea...”

“What?” the Sorceress asked, watching her with tearful eyes, “What idea?”

“The Jabberwocky’s poison is unlike the poison of most creatures. It’s made of darkness, you see... I did my research on this, once,” the Overlord’s fingers traced the area above the Corporal’s heart, “It’s not regular poison. It attacks the soul, kills it from the inside after it infects. I could... extract the soul... At a price. He’d be an Underling for the rest of his life.”

“Do it... Please... Just save him!” the Sorceress begged suddenly, “Please...”

The Overlord cast a glance at the Swordmaster for approval. When he merely inclined his head, the Overlord grabbed the Corporal by both of his shoulders, sending forth a wave of magic through him. He spasmed, shaking even more. His eyes opened a moment before rolling back into his head, his limbs lashing out spontaneously. “Get back!” the Overlord yelled, sending forth another wave. “I have to get him to give up his soul first... And I don’t think he’s going to be very compliant!” A third wave.

“Is she... hurting him?” the Evocator asked, standing there in awe and shock.

“To get his soul vulnerable, yes...” the Swordmaster glanced at the Sorceress, putting an arm around her comfortingly.

A fourth wave and the golden wisps began to come into view. The Overlord moved like lightning, snatching the orb in both hands and pulling as hard as she could. As the soul ripped free from the Corporal’s chest, she felt it fall into her hands, glowing brightly. “Errr... Here...” She handed the pulsing, living orb to the Sorceress, “Put it someplace safe, okay? And stay with him until he wakes up.”

“Where are you going?” the Sorceress asked quietly.

“The Nemesis is still in here somewhere. I need to find him and end what he began...” the Overlord rose from the ground, placing her helmet atop her head once more. She paused to turn and glance at the ice that clotted the pillars. As her eyes rested upon the Theurgist’s body, she recoiled, looking down, then away from the corpse until her eyes traveled to the Evocator. “Are you...?”

“I’ll be fine...” the Evocator said firmly, despite the flood of tears in her eyes, “Go. Avenge him. For me and him.”

“He loves you,” the Overlord said at last, “And he always will.”

“And I love him, too,” the Evocator looked down at her hands, biting her lip and taking in a deep breath, “I’ve been looking forward to this for awhile now. Freedom from the burden.”

“The burden will still be there. He’ll still be gone even after I’ve killed the Nemesis,” the Overlord lowered her head, “But you can rest... Knowing that the Nemesis won’t do that to anyone else.” The Evocator threw her arms around the Overlord, squeezing her tightly in a hug. The Overlord embraced her as well, but released her quickly. “I have to go now...”

“We’ll be waiting for you...” the Evocator released the Overlord, nodding firmly.

“Good luck, Em,” the Witch added, “Knock ‘em dead!”

The Overlord laughed humorlessly, then began toward the staircase, a bit disgruntled that it had been demolished by the Jabberwocky’s heavy corpse. A leap and a bound, and the Overlord had climbed the dead beast’s neck, stepping lightly until she climbed its head. Hopping from its nose to the balcony of the second floor, she felt the sudden sense of solitude overwhelm her. It was as every final battle she faced- the ringing silence in her ears and the rush of blood in her veins. This was her mission, though, she was sure of it. This was fate. God might have sent her to purge the Second Realm of the Uberlord and his Dark Legion, but she knew that, without a doubt, her destiny lay at the end of the hall, in her old office.

It was time to say goodbye to the days of running from the Dark Ice Brotherhood. It was time to say goodbye to the old memories she had put away out of fear, out of shame. It was time to avenge her friend. It was the time she had been waiting for since she had been exiled. Since the Insurgent Leader had beaten her that day in the Wasteland. Ever since Warwick had nearly taken her soul the first time- it was the hour where she could put that all behind her... forever.

She smiled, briefly for a moment, before rounding the corner. The body of Blondie lay, smeared with blood and the scent of smoke clotting her lungs. Coughing the Overlord recognized the smell- the stench of a smoke bomb. ‘Ninja-Lord? Did you come here after all?’ She was thankful, but knew she had no time to seek her friend out. Glancing at where Sexist lay, the Overlord thought, momentarily, that he was dead. However, she bent over him, looking him over briefly before concluding he was alive. Reaching down, she tapped him on the shoulder, her gloved hand making scarcely a noise against his armor.

But it was enough to stir him. She was satisfied with a groan of disapproval, and watched as his blue eyes opened. “You’re alive,” she observed, arms folded, “What are you doing so far away from the rest of the pack?”

“Pharisee...” Sexist mumbled, looking around. Clasping his head, he moaned and wiped some drying blood from the side of his face, “... God, I hate him...”

“He’s no where around here,” the Overlord replied, her tone rather frosty, “Can you get up?”

“Yeah...” Sexist nodded, pulling himself up into a standing position.

“There’s people down the stairs in the next hall. You’re wounded. See to it that you don’t get your ass killed. I don’t want to lose any more minions than I have to,” the Overlord said rather gruffly. Sexist locked eyes with her momentarily, then nodded, wordlessly turning away. Green eyes narrowed at his retreating figure, the Overlord thought, ‘No... I still don’t forgive you. And I don’t think I ever will...’ She glanced down at where Blondie lay, stepped over him, then walked towards her office, as calmly as she could muster.

She felt images of her past fight with the Nemesis fly through her mind’s eye. As she neared the door to her room, she felt the heaviness of the past few months suddenly weigh down upon her. Removing her staff from its sheath, she grasped it tightly in her right hand, left hand reaching out to open the door into the office. As the door creaked open, she found that the lights were all turned off within- even the fireplace. The ice that overran the office seemed to have consumed everything in sight, glistening off the hall lights ominously.

The Overlord stepped in, surprised that she didn’t fall upon the ice at the first step. Her boots melted through and cracked the layers that sheeted the floor, making moving not as difficult as she had originally anticipated. Cracks of steps could be heard deafeningly in the silence, looking directly over at the leather chair she used to sit in. As it was turned away from her, she expected this was where the Nemesis was sitting. More likely than not, he would turn to face her; turn, say something witty, then begin the final battle.

As she reached the desk, the chair did not turn. It did not move. So, she reached out with a hand and turned the chair, jumping back despite the lack of a person there. “Empty?” she mused, but a stirring to her right made her turn away. He stood by the empty fireplace, no helmet and a glass of wine in his hand.

“I was wondering when you would get here. I’ve grown awfully bored.”

“Took me awhile to dismantle your shield,” the Overlord fought to keep her voice steady. “But I’m here now.”

He took a long drink from the wine glass, then sat it aside, incredibly fluid with his motions. “How long have you known?” He had noted that she was not surprised by his lack of helmet or his identity. The Overlord allowed herself to temporarily lower her guard.

“Two days. Three. I don’t remember. But I do remember everything else,” the Overlord replied, “What you did to me all those years ago. Yes, Warwick, I remember that. I remember why you left, originally. I remember all of it... Big brother.” Her voice was getting as cold as his was. Impulses and rage were clawing at her- she could feel the need to revert to Saevio inside her chest and it killed her that she could not.

The Nemesis chuckled, smiled, then turned around, his stinging blue eyes meeting hers. She recoiled slightly, but tried not to let it show. But she knew that he had noticed. “We’ve both changed,” he ran a hand through his light, short burgundy hair, “... Gotten older... But we’re still the same inside, aren’t we? We always were the same... You’re so much like me. Fighting tooth and nail to achieve what you want...”

“We’re nothing alike!” the Overlord argued suddenly, bristling as she glared at the Nemesis, head craned back slightly, “We’re like fire and ice, Warwick, we always were. And... I’m done having you haunt my dreams. I could go on for freaking hours about how you’ve screwed everything up in my life... But why waste my breath on you?”

“Why would I want to hear your little sob story anyways? We all know how this will end. I’ve beaten you twice before,” the Nemesis retorted frostily, “This is the tragic ending of everyone in your family, it seems. A reign put to rest by a heavenly-blessed warrior. It’s almost ironic.”

“You’re the reason all of this happened. I should thank you, though... For making me stronger,” the Overlord spat, “It was cruel and sadistic, Brother, but it was really kind of you.” She held her staff up with both hands, “I wonder... Did you think I’d curl up and die when you took everything away from me? Did you think I’d give up?”

“Which time?” the Nemesis taunted, pulling out the Overlord’s scythe. Her eyes widened as she looked at her old weapon, longing to hold it once more. “The time that I had your very essence in my hands... or the time I reaped your powers from you? I must admit, the only reason I never pursued you myself was because I knew you’d come back to me eventually. And here you are... Dinner on a silver platter, and you walked yourself right up into my room. You’re too kind.”

“Enough of the banter. I’ve... I’ve nothing more to say to you!” the Overlord screamed, both ends of the staff igniting with a green flame.

“Good. Because I’d rather just cut to the chase, too,” the Nemesis held the scythe with both hands, lunging forward as the Overlord did. Twisting her body around, the Overlord dodged the Nemesis’ blow, striking him in the head with one end of the staff. The Nemesis spun the scythe over his head, striking the air above the Overlord’s head. She ducked and kicked at the back of his knee. As he stumbled forward, he grabbed his glass of wine and tossed it at the Overlord. A lifted palm released a swirl of flame, incinerating the glass immediately.

The Overlord blocked a blow from the scythe with her staff using the momentum to move around the Nemesis and strike at his long legs again. He slammed his foot onto her shin, causing her to fall to the ground. As he lifted his scythe to slam down into her side, she smacked him in the face with the end of her staff. He fell back, though sent a blast of icicles at the Overlord. Melting them before they could make contact, the Overlord rose to her feet, staff still in hand. Jumping towards the Nemesis, she began a series of very complicated strikes, striking him several times in the chest with the fiery ends of the staff. He grunted, slammed against the wall and the scythe flying from his grasp. The Overlord grabbed his collar and sent a rather vivid blast of magic through him, causing the wall to crack. The Nemesis pushed her off of him, however, concocting an icicle and sending it down at her. As the icicle pierced through her leg, the Overlord realized that the Nemesis was gaining the advantage here.

The scythe was in his hand again as he charged, turning over the desk entirely. As the scythe’s blade came hurtling down, the Overlord rolled out of the way, grabbing her staff and sending a blast of fire into his chest. It dented and bent the armor, but did not seem to do much other than that. Dismayed, she melted the icicle in her leg and sent a swirl of fire through the wall, exposing the balcony entirely. She moved out into the brief rays of sun that were beginning to break through the clouds.

“Do you really think you can kill me with that?” the Nemesis remarked, pointing at the staff. He chuckled, then lunged, sending a wave of black magic at the Overlord. As she deflected it with her staff, he struck with the scythe, scratching her shoulder and knocking her back against the rail. He came hurtling at her once more, but the Overlord rolled out of the way at the last minute, watching as the Nemesis’ scythe was caught in the rail. He released the handle immediately, the scythe teetering on the ledge. As he turned, he received several strikes from the staff, nearly forcing him over the edge. He pulled the scythe from where it was caught, shattering some of the railing in the process. A few smoldering flames met his face momentarily, burning the left side of his face. As he cooled it with a spell, the Overlord kicked the scythe from his hands, making a move to grab it for herself.

The Nemesis grabbed her wrist instead, incasing her hand in a wrap of ice that attached her to his own arm. Trying to pull away, the Overlord dug her heels into the ground, but the Nemesis overpowered her. Flinging her over the rail, the ice shattered into a thousand pieces, falling over the edge as well. The Overlord summoned a platform almost immediately and rolled over. Jumping back onto the balcony, the Overlord noted that the Nemesis had his scythe once more.

“This is a very level fight...” the Overlord panted a moment, then remarked, “I guess that’s what happens when you put two Tamashii ninjas in the same battlefield...”

“No. I reject Tamashii. All they ever did was teach weakness when they could have been powerful,” the Nemesis snarled.

“So you reject honor?” the Overlord scoffed, “How very much like you...”

“You accept weakness. That’s fine... Accept defeat as well,” the Nemesis sent a spiral of ice magic at her, which was met with fire magic. As the Overlord recovered, the Nemesis sent a second wave of ice, though it attached her feet to the balcony. In a lightning-fast strike, the scythe’s blade was embedded into her stomach, sending a spray of blood as he pulled it out of her. The Overlord’s feet had melted through by now, but she fell forward, grasping where the scythe had cut clean through her armor. Her helmet had fallen off by now and lay discarded on the balcony, yards away.

“Do you see now? You will never win,” the Nemesis asked quietly, “So you might as well just accept defeat now...”

The Overlord wasn’t sure what forced her to her feet. She grabbed the scythe’s handle suddenly, the runes on its handle pulsating with a red glow. As she wrenched it from the Nemesis’ hands, she felt a surge of her old strength flow into her veins- momentarily. As the blade cleaved the Nemesis’ shoulder to the wall, she found herself face-to-face with her old friend, blood still cascading onto the ground. The Nemesis’ face was wrought with pain and he tried to move but found himself stuck. Hands grasping the handle next to the Overlord’s hands, he pulled the scythe out, grunting all the while.

The Nemesis and the Overlord began struggling immediately, the Overlord pushing against him and the Nemesis doing the same to her. As she pivoted a foot and turned, the Nemesis lost his balance, though remained clutching onto the scythe. The Overlord swung him around with all of her strength, her back facing the rail. Pressing the handle of the scythe against her collarbone, the Nemesis arched his back and forced the scythe down on the Overlord, smirking as she yelped in pain. He reached out with a hand and touched her stomach wound, flecks of ice formulating around it.

Sinking to the ground, the Overlord released the scythe, clutching the deep stomach wound with a hand. “You’re not fighting nearly at your old potential... Why?” the Nemesis sneered, “Because you’re scared, that’s why. Stupid little girl... Always scared of the things that could kill her.” The Overlord rose from the ground, shakily grabbing onto the rail. Her hand clasped Kagi’s hilt and she pulled it from its sheath.

“That little toy?” the Nemesis remarked, “... Ha. You’re pretty amusing when you’re desperate.”

The Overlord’s eyes darkened and she lashed out, her blow blocked entirely. Forcing herself to leap over the Nemesis’ head, she twisted out of the scythe’s way, hit the ground with both feet, then struck the Nemesis between the shoulder and chest plate. He grimaced as she pulled Kagi from his flesh, a smile playing about her lips. “Toy?” She asked, then struck again, raking the blade against his leg. He responded by slamming the handle of the scythe into her legs, knocking her to the ground. The blade came crashing down once more, though she rolled painfully out of the way.

Rising to her feet, the Overlord lunged at the Nemesis, stabbing at his chest with the fiery katana. The Nemesis avoided the blow entirely, darkness wrapping around his hand as he grasped the Overlord’s neck, suddenly lifting her from the ground. She felt the cold freeze into her lungs, piercing her skin. The Overlord kicked out, but to no avail. His fingers touched the back of her neck lightly, the scythe in the other hand as he held her throat triumphantly.

“I told you it would come to this,” the Nemesis said almost sadly. A pulse of magic coursed through her veins, seeming to freeze her system entirely. She could barely move, much less breathe at this point. “You tried so valiantly to avoid your fate... But this is how it’s supposed to be. The time has come. Your fate has been decided... And your fate is to be mine forever.”

She fell to the ground, the scythe re-entering her torso. A second pulse of magic rocked her body, her wrists held firmly down by ice. The Nemesis held the handle of the scythe with both hands, the blade pinning her down against the ground. As the magic coursed through her, the Overlord found herself trying to remember something. A note... A letter... There was something the Evocator had given her to read. It had been from the Theurgist- something to help her win the fight she knew she had lost long ago.

A suddenly realization and the Overlord could see the scrap of paper in her hand. ‘... before you leave to fight the Nemesis, you will...’ What had the last word been? She knew it now. She knew it with a heavy heart, a painful dawning, and she couldn’t believe it hadn’t hit her before. to remember what the Theurgist had said. ‘Lose.’ The last word had been ‘lose’.

‘And you need to know that, before you leave to fight the Nemesis, you will lose.’

The pulses of magic had stopped, and yet she could not feel the scythe anymore. It was still there, stabbing into her and killing her. The Overlord felt dizzy, her vision fading in and out of view. It was a familiar feeling, a sickening feeling that she knew too well. Gold crowned her chest, tendrils emerging from her heart and licking the sky. She tried to move her arm, but couldn’t, and fell still, her eyes half-lidded as the Nemesis bent down, a triumphant look in his eyes.

“It’s over,” the Nemesis’ voice was very soft, almost pleasant to hear. She felt his hands clasp the golden orb, a tug that sent chills down her spine. It felt like a dream- like one of those nightmares that had plagued her. “I’m sorry, Ems...” She felt a sudden rip, a surge of pain in her chest. She thought she heard someone scream, but she was convinced that this person was her. The world was spinning suddenly, the orb of gold in the Nemesis’ palm, wavering as if to tell her goodbye. She felt darkness and shadows ebb away at her. Was this death? Maybe it was, maybe it wasn’t... Her will to care, her will to fight it, had all gone away. She closed her eyes and felt herself fade away.