Once again, the orc returned to the main stage, DSP smashing him upside the head,
"What the fuck was that shit!" he barked, Pistoff placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder,
"Do not worry, sometimes a sacrifice must be made for a higher cause…"
"Then sacrifice yourself asshole!"
"Ahem," Chester coughed, "Sorry, but this is a battle you will not want to slack off on. Though I warn you, what you may view may be disturbing…" Holy shit, a battle so terrible it needs exposition…
"Normally, this would never be allowed, as it utterly defies all conventions of war and law, but due to the nature of the competition, we were permitted to summon them. We lost many men scouring the deepest pits of PvP hell, and lost many more apprehending the foul creatures, but we were able to get them here, behold…"
He hit a scary button on his computer console, a set of four tremendous iron grates creeping open with a great whir of machines and grind of gears. The ground shook as great bellows rose from within the depths, the duo praying for their feeble lives as they lumbered forth, their gargantuan forms emerging from the dark…
The audience went dead silent. This was no laughing matter, anymore, a few shielding their children's eyes-
The first came forth in great stone armor, a great mechanical crossbow in each hand, the demon pointing his weapons into the air and unleashing great bouts of lightning arrows into the sky with a growl.
The second demon wore dense stone armor as well, the great, charred iron anus adorned with horns that was the smelter demon helm upon his brow, a Santier's spear in one arm with a long, elegant scimitar that could only be the dreaded Monastery Scimitar in his off hand.
The third carried great stone armor and a long lance, his form crouching down and buffing himself with thunder from the heavens- then a cloud of numb- then a resonating energy cloak- the monster continuing his merciless buffing as the forth demon lumbered forth-
Of them all, he was the most horrifying, many of the audience members vomiting blood and fleeing for the nearest bathroom. He waddled forth in tremendous, Iron clad armor that resembled a great tortoise shell, a Sunset staff in one hand and dragon chime gently ringing in the other while he peered through his emotionless grey mask.
Pistoff senses grew overwhelmed as he fell to his knees, feeling the despair radiating towards him,
The Havelyn, The Turtlemage, The Immovable Object, and Meta the Destroyinator. The Four Havelmonsters of the Apocalypse.
Apart, they were the bane of all PvP, together they were a force of darkness on the level of Miley Cyrus.
"Well… um…" Chester stuttered, trying hard to bite back the tears of remorse, "You may fight whenever you are ready."
"We could never be ready for this." Pistoff sobbed, the four Havelmonsters letting up great moans and trudging forward, an earthshaking boom resounding wherever their feet fell.
Havelyn was the first to strike, a great row of bolts erupting from his crossbows and sending the duo ducking for cover, though the Immovable object was already on the case, running around the side, a deep, ominous breathing coming from his helm as he lay clouded in buffs, thrusting for them.
Pistoff and DSP laid into him, but immovable object is immovable, his armor soaking the blows as he continued to sweep for them, the two breaking off as the Havelyn peppered the area with a machingun fire of bolts
But, as they fled one they came right into the face of two more adversaries, Turtlemage and Meta, the great giant's Anus coming towards them with Santier's "spear" whirling with enough force to slip stones, the two fleeing, hearing the sound of a catalyst charging-
"He's using Dark Majick! Save Yourself!" Pistoff cried, DSP parting ways as a great bolt of dark blew by and exploded a Schnitzel cart, the Bavarian treats raining over the land as Meta closed on DSP, the other three lumbering towards the orc, who spammed whirlwind sprint like no tomorrow to get away.
The new chosen undead faced down the Anus-faced demon, his spear held aloft to unleash hell and Spin2win blitzkriegs, the chosen trying to counter-
Before he took so much as half a step, the scimitar at his side whirled, the undead stopping as the animation stopped, only for it to parry again-
*parry
*parry
*parry
"Hey, are you going to attack or-"
*parry
*parry
*parry
"Look, that's getting-"
*parry
*parry
*parry
The scrub sighed, drawing his talimen and blowing the spammer to smithereens with his sunlight spear. DSP saw the new dovahkiin still shouting with all he had, the three closing in but unable to match his agility, though the Havelmonsters were still a force to be reckoned with.
He snuck up on the mage, who was currently launching a shower of soul spears, stabbing him in the back, only to see the blade bounce harmlessly off the side, the turtle mage wheeling around, his lifeless black holes for eyes peering into the scrub's very soul.
"Nope." He executed, running for it-
A blinding light radiated over the land, the scrubs feet dragging into the ground with a white ring around him, the audience screaming in rage and indignation as Chester apologized that they'd had to see this again, thanks to the Crown of the Sunken king, for DSP had fallen into the grasp of a force not even gravity could match in sheer awe inspiring terror:
The Tranquil Walk of Peace.
He turned, the mage bringing up his catalyst and dumping his souls into the mother of all Dark Majick, his souls swelling and bubbling in him until he climaxed, spewing the ray at the scrub and watching as he was disintegrated down to the last molecule on the titanic nuclear Tsar Bomba of an explosion, the figure lumbering back around to reap more sorrow-
Pistoff at last grounded the immovable object when his buffs ran out, only just strafing around the Havelyn as he did his Havelyn thing spewing bolts. The orc seemed to vanish a moment, Havelyn scratching his head a bit before an arrow prodded his knee, the X3 damage felling the great beast.
The orc chugged a few stamina buffs, coming face to face with the evilest of all masticators, Turtlemage drawing his porcine shield and doing an odd dance in challenge of the orc, Pistoff going berserk mode and rushing the mage as he crouched down with his talimen-
Sadly, Pistoff could not stunlock him out of the WoG, and was blown away, landing hard on his back as the mage drew a flame and started launching his great forbidden suns with a vengeance, the orc fleeing-
"Dammit I just got past this shit!" He was caught off guard by a flame swathe, the turtle launching a barrage of Soul Geyser at his stunned form, pinning him for a cast of the old Pursuers, the fucking officially royal. When a shout came to mind:
"Tiid Klo Ul!" The crippled dragonborn shouted, the world gaining a blue hue as the projectiles stopped midair, the Orc smirking and whistling as he went around, stepping behind the mage and watching the spell break, the Pursuers screeching to a halt and flying back at the caster with a boom-
And thus, the Havelmonsters were slain.
"You're still alive down there? Very impressive" Chester chortled, the orc glaring up at him,
"Is that it? I can't imagine anything worse than this."
"There are four rounds left, actually," he snickered, "But you've come this far, don't give up now."
He was transported to the next land, Chester hearing one of his coworkers screech and looking down indignantly-
"Where are my blasted pants!?"