.:Home:.   .:Demont Roussai:.   .:Duels:.   .:Links:.   .:Contact:.  

Lionel narrows his eyes as he steps closer to the man called Demont. Arching his back in a casual manner, he takes his standard battle stance -- one that those who have seen the young man dueling should be quite familiar with by now. Lionel stops about twenty-five feet away from the opponent, and brings his right leg forward, bending at the knee. Placing one fist over the sheath to his sword, and trying not to pay any attention to the fact that his real weapon is also on the battlefield but in the hands of Lady Sabine, the former assassin brings his fingers to the soft, glowing blue of the Blessed Blue Rush's fine handle. Bringing the shimmering silver blade out slowly, it reflects and illuminates light from all surroundings, as always. The blade is nearly six feet in length, and wider than a foot -- truly a remarkably large sword. Yet this brings about the unfortunate heaviness, and Lionel brings both hands to the weapon in order to hold it properly. By now he's accustomed to it and Hellfire's weight, but this doesn't make things easy. He can be seen struggling slightly, his paler-than-usual facial features straining, and his crimson red right eye emitting black swirls of frustration whilst his sapphire blue left remains its usual self. "All right," he speaks under his breath. "Time to see if you're as strong as you look." Examining the enemy, he takes careful note of armor and weaknesses, and swallows hard, ensuring that his concentration level is sufficient that he will not accidentally injure his opponent too severely. Bringing his left leg forward, Lionel now raises Blessed so that its tip is facing Demont's head straight-on, and rushes forth, charing like a noble knight to a fierce dragon. As this occurs, two separate beams of white light lash out from his back, and circle around the young man. Both are equally strong and could send a devastating burning sensation if they make contact with the victim's body, and they hone in on their target with as much precision skill as Lionel himself. Once he reaches Demont, he swings forward, aiming for the man's chest, as the beams of light come around him and aim for the vampire's sides.

Demont watches Lionel intently, taking careful calculations of the man's frame and weaponry. Noticing the heavy weapon he wields may add a slight weakness in speed, Demont grins. The vampire's left, mangled hand which only occupies three fingers now scratches the head of Macabre, his Hell Hound. The assassin slaps the dog like creature lightly on the behind, sending it foreword and to the left in a long arch. The hell hound speeds around Lionel, coming from behind in a flanking motion. With his hand, he now brings it to his side, his three digits wrapping about the hilt of a slender sword. As he pulls it free from it's leather housing, a slight 'swinge' can be heard. Demont looks to his right, bloody shoulder where it had been pierced the previous day by a lance, now rendering it useless. Quickly he turns his cloudy blue hues to the oncoming foe and his have weapon. In a swift motion, Demont brings his blade foreword to parry Lionel's attack. The momentum from the human's attack and blade sending the vampire's weapon downward toward the earth. Not knowing what the beams of light are, Demont attempts to roll foreword, one beam missing him completely while the other finds a place upon his unarmored calf. A lowly growl escapes Demont's throat as his calf feels like it erupting in flames. Standing slowly, he brings his blade before him vertically, and charges. Upon nearing Lionel, Demont swings swiftly downward towards the man's head while Macabre makes his way from the rear.

Lionel continues his charge until Blessed is swung, at which point the quick reflexes of the vampiric foe are enough to block, but not enough to defend against such a fiercesome blade. A loud clashing sound can be heard across the field, and a thud into the earth as the smaller weapon collides with the ground. Watching with a slight smirk as one of the light beams makes contact with their target, the human male takes careful note of the hell hound coming about, but hasn't enough time to deal with it directly. Upon the slice for his head, Lionel focuses perhaps too intently on that which is in front of him, and in a complete contradiction which still follows the old Drow saying, he fails to make the realization that the vampire's faithful companion has made it around to his back. Bringing the Blessed Blue Rush in both hands with the tip pointed toward the heavens above, holding it like the noble sword of a king, O'Connor manages to block the incoming sword slash and keep the front of his body protected from any quick motions downward upon the bladelock. Yet as he does so, his eyes of both colors suddenly show an intense pain as a ravaging beast plants its fangs into his lower back. "Gah!!" He screams, and moves to kick the creature with his left foot, hoping to plant the all-too-simple counterattack squarely in the beast's jaw, while cringing at the pain of a small bit of flesh being taken from his body. As he executes this reflexive kick, Lionel knows what to do about Demont for now. The second bladelock has brought the shimmering silver of Blessed into a full-fledged sparkle of luminescence, and it reacts ferally, almost of its own volition. What appears to be some sort of charge takes over the sword, and the entire area surrounding both combatants and the hopefully-kicked dog now glows a stunning white. In this blinding atmosphere Lionel can sense with the powers of purity exactly what he is doing, but both opponents are visually blinded. During this time he brings the sword downward from its valiant stance, and hopes to slice into the enemy's flesh while being relatively invisible.

Demont watches as Macabre tumbles across the dirt path, but quickly forgets his companion as his blade slides from his foe's and his eyes ache from the intense light. Instinctively, Demont brings his arm over his eyes and being unable to see what Lionel is doing attempts to pivot to the left. The undead creature's shoulder now comes into the path of the extraordinary blade. A scream resonates throughout the way as the bandages upon the vampire's shoulder are cut off and the blade digs into the bony shoulder. A hole, at least and inch an diameter can be seen where the bandaged were. Demont slides painfully away from the blade, blood running down his useless arm. Hunched over for a moment, Demont takes time to think quickly, his sight now coming back. He grins painfully as he drops his blade and walks steadily towards Lionel. Making his way within several feat of the man, he brings his hand to his side, quickly pulling free three daggers, a light green shine can be seen upon the silver blades, one can only surmise the green being poison. Hoping his opponent is still suffering slightly from the light, he throws the blade's forth, each seeking a destination in the weak joints of the armor. Now being weaponless, Demont rushes back to his weapon, hoping to reach the object in time to counter whatever attack may come next.

Lionel brings his sword into the wounded arm of his opponent and slices across, causing the intense damage he sought after. Caught up in the moment, the former assassin affords himself his own grin, witnessing the dropping of Demont's blade. As the hell hound behind him does not motion to attack, he assumes he has accomplished what he was aiming for in that particular incident, as well. Bringing his separately-shaded eyes to glare upon his enemy, it is only now that Lionel notices three distinctively-colored green-shining daggers being held. Before he has time to bring Blessed to a sturdy enough blocking position that he could repel the trio of blades, they are thrown toward him. One dives in for Lionel's shoulder, another for the space between his black-spiked fullplate and chainmail leggings, and the third zeros in on the young man's head. Widening his eyes and vehemently slashing ahead wildly, Lionel can only hope to escape the carnage of the skillful throwing techniques Demont has portrayed. The first, however, slides straight past Blessed before it is even lifted up in defence, and the blow devastates his arm. At once it feels limp and he loses his right grip, only barely keeping the sword up with his left. His face grows paler, but something in Lionel's bloodstream reacts quickly enough to dispel the poison. Yet the wound is severe, and as the knife falls from Lionel's shoulder, he knows he cannot use this arm any longer. Muttering under his breath a thanks to Vyrick's anti-vampiric poison of his own in disbelief, he swings to block the second and third with a reactive and subconscious parry. Having abruptly ended the second and third daggers' vollies, Lionel grins almost wickedly as his familiar angel wings pull out from his spine. The usual pain accompanies this feat, and his face is filled now with the horrible sensations of a numbing and wounded arm as well as something thrusting out from his body in such a manner. Flying up above Demont, he looks down with his intensifying grin, and with his remaining arm tries to bring the blade so that its tip is pointed at his enemy's throat. He does so, albeit slower than he should and with a shaking left arm, and thrusts downward, the shimmering silver echoing a powerful beam that resonates outward and would fry parts of skin even if the blade portion itself is stopped.

Demont 's features portray a smirk of satisfaction but is quickly wiped from his face as he witnesses Lionel. His clouded orbs flash a gray as Lionel soars above. Quickly he returns to his previous transaction and makes his way to his blade as his opponent careens downward. Demont rolls foreword, his right shoulder digging painfully into the dirt as his left hand wraps around the hilt of his blade. Violently Demont throws his blade up just as Lionel's blade makes contact with his own. An intense burning can be felt upon Demont's flesh as the two seem to be in a stalemate. A grin makes it's way once again onto the vampire's features and his eye turn a milky hue. A torrent of wind erupts about his form, lifting him slightly from the ground as the fierce wind now makes it's way upward in an attempt to swallow Lionel in a sadistic whirlwind.

Lionel witnesses yet another impressive feat from the one called Demont, content with his abilities, if not downright impressed and respective toward. Just in the nic of time, Demont has successfully brought his sword back up -- something Lionel did not expect. Raising a brow in frustration, but smiling nevertheless, the young man is pushed back a bit despite the huge weapon he wields, and then widens his eyes some more upon seeing a fierce whirlwind rise up against him. His wings bend to the left instinctively, and the Blessed Blue Rush's shimmer dims as the powerful strike gusts past it and collides as this cyclone with Lionel. The warrior drops his sword, unable to keep a grip on it with one arm, and begins to follow the motions of the wind. His wings desperately tilt, as his body feels torn apart. Letting out a vile scream, he can almost feel the collective thoughts of Vyrick cursing him for being so weak now. Pushing his wings up toward the sky in a final attempt to break free, Lionel grits his teeth together as he begins to disappear from sight, engulfed in the ferocious tornado-like strike. Yet after a moment of screaming, the angelic wings can be seen rising up from the top of the storm, and with a pull that takes away all remaining might in O'Connor, he flings himself away from the attack and onto the ground. His wings return to his spine and he screams again, laying almost lifeless on the ground. Grinding his teeth against one-another, Lionel stands, breathless and quite exhausted. "Im... pressive."

Winner:Lionel