Catherine's fingers were numb and stinging as she hooked them around a sizeable stone and pulled, trying to dislodge it from it's place. It came loose and tumbled to the side, creating a small rockslide where many more of it's brethren replaced it admirably, packing the pile in even tighter. The ex-drifter bit her lip as she then worked upon these rocks, her hands bleeding a little and aching badly. Her friends were under that tomb of stone, and she had no idea if they were still alive or dead. Kaitlyn was helping her mother with some of the small stones, but was really doing no better than Catherine herself. Both of them were crying.

However, they were ignored by the two demons a long way away, and that was probably the best thing for them, what both demons wanted for them, to make sure that Catherine and Kaitlyn remained unharmed. The fight that they were about to start was only between themselves and nobody else. Ravendor cracked his knuckles and pulled back the sleeves of his white jacket back a little, so they would not hinder him as he fought. He had no qualms with melee combat, putting confidence in his physical strength. Ravendor was not a large or a broad man at all, he had a body-build quite similar to Clive's, not lanky, but not solidly built as well. He would still be a formidable opponent.

Clive, surprisingly, struck first. Sprinting the length of the battlefield, he brought Kuronegaiken high above his head and slashed downwards upon Ravendor's body, as the dark-haired man had chosen to begin the battle in a defensive stance. Ravendor's eyes were calmly closed as if in some kind of mediation, his hands in his coat pockets with his wings half-spread around him. The swordsman let out a battle cry as the air around the blade tore with the momentum, the muscles in his arms screaming as he extended as much energy into the handling of his weapon as he possibly could. Clive felt the sword impact against something equally tough and hard and did not yield ground to the movements of his blade. This was unusual, nothing he had even known from before had been able to stand against one of his focussed attacks, at least, nothing human.

It felt as though he had hit a wall of impervious metal, thick enough to be an effective shield. Sparks burst into life as Kuronegaiken grated against the back of one of Ravendor's black wings, stretched across his vulnerable front to protect him from Clive's attacks. The metallic substance of each individual feather set against one another was like a layer of strong scale armor which repelled physical blows. The swordsman narrowed his eyes. So that was the purpose behind Ravendor's wings, they were his shield. Stepping backwards, Clive pulled his sword away and planned his next move. He couldn't really do much until he had a better idea of Ravendor's capabilities. He found out, only moments later, that they were far more than a shield. Slowly, the wing pulled back, until it revealed half of Ravendor's face, so Clive could see the murderous glint in his eye. The bandit leader said only one word; "Die."

His reflexes ordered him out of the way just in time, only nanoseconds before the edge of one wing lashed out at him like a reaper's scythe, missing Clive's face and cutting into a section of the wall, scarring it deeply with a long diagonal cut. Clive felt the air move past him as Ravendor attacked and was amazed, he had never seen anybody move like that before, not even himself or Boomerang. It was almost physically impossible. Clive had sidestepped and watched Ravendor pull his wing out of the earthly wound, now turning towards his enemy once more. The cut had been perfect, without obstruction. The edges of those feathers must have been as sharp as, if not sharper, than Kuronegaiken herself.

No, Clive told himself sternly, He cannot best me. No matter how powerful the Prophets made him, he is still only a synthetic demon, not complete, not whole. A fake cannot stand up to the real thing… I hope…

When Ravendor struck again, Clive did not jump out of the way, but decided to test his theory. He brought Kuronegaiken up into a defensive block and dug his heels into the dirt, the edge of the wing smashing against his blade and locking against one another, struggling for dominance. The swordsman grunted as his hands were gradually forced into his stomach, and the rest of his body was slowly pushed into the wall. Then, from out of nowhere, something dark and deadly raked him across his front and Clive screamed, streams of his blood splattering onto his front and in the air. Long gashes ripped his shirt up even further, Clive recognizing the wounds as claw marks the moment he first felt them. They were nowhere near as painful or as damaging as his own had been, but they were enough to make him bleed and grit his teeth with repressed suffering.

Cursing, Clive yielded to the weapons lock and slid himself to the side, barely avoiding another attack. He had been stupid, he had totally forgotten that Ravendor's claws were just as deadly as his wings, and while one part of his body could be defending, the other could be preparing for an attack. Feeling his blood trickle down his already torn shirt, Clive jumped several feet into the air, moving like an acrobat, as the spiked end of Ravendor's tail flailed at him like a poisonous whip, nearly hitting him in the side. Using gravity as an aid, Clive angled himself down, drawing again on Boomerang's moderate knowledge of martial arts, and kicked Ravendor hard in the shoulder, getting him above the protection of his wings.

A sense of euphoric triumph streaked through his mind when he heard Ravendor grunt from the impact, but then something strange seemed to alter itself around them and the bandit leader was suddenly far away from him, having retreated without wasting more than half a second in time. Clive touched down without complication and stood back up, holding his sword in the defensive position again. If it were not for the fact that he had seen that move being made a thousand times before, if not to retreat, then in other ways, he would have been baffled. But Clive knew an accelerator technique when he saw one. The metal demon smiled, so this was where Jet had learnt that art, from Ravendor himself. How interesting.

His wings wide open and his body exposed to an attack, Clive watched Ravendor reach a claw into one of the inner pockets of his jacket and take a hold of something, while his poisonous green eyes did not linger from their fixed direction, piercing into Clive soul. Taking steps towards his foe, the swordsman raised his weapon once more, his breathing labored because every intake of breath forced the wounds on his front to reopen, though his healing factor kept on trying to stitch him back together again. "Don't use… strategies that I can recognize… Ravendor…" He warned, smiling a little.

"Very well," Ravendor agreed jovially, making a strange motion with his hand and wrist. "Will this do?" He asked. A heartbeat later, before Clive could react, something insanely sharp and thin neatly entered Clive's throat, piercing through the pale skin of his neck and imbedding itself in his spine. Clive staggered from the presence of the violating object, suddenly unable to breathe properly. Stumbling backwards into the wall, he raised his free hand to his throat and felt the outline of a long metal flight feather embedded in his neck, cleanly bisecting his larynx and drawing only a little blood. It was painless, he felt hardly any pain, indicating a precise aim and a perfect hit. Ravendor strode up to Clive, trembling against the wall. The metal demon tried to suck in a breath, but felt the air whistle out of the wound in his neck, gurgling a little as he tried to breathe around the intrusive feather.

The blood from his wound trickled down his windpipe, choking him for a second. That was all it took. He coughed hard, causing the imbedded dart to further cut his flesh. He gasped, which only sucked in more choking blood. Coughing harder, Clive scrabbled at the obstruction madly to yank it out, but a metal-plated claw grabbed his hand and pinned it away from his neck, pressing it into the wall. Ravendor smiled, he was enjoying this. Tears were beading at the corners of Clive's eyes when Ravendor spoke, wrenching Kuronegaiken from out of his foe's grip, and dropping it to the side where Clive could no longer reach it. "You know, I always love a good bit of torture before I kill somebody, it shows that I care." He chuckled, letting go of one of Clive's wrists in order to pluck a larger and longer feather from one wing, looking more like a black knife blade than a simple throwing dart.

"…Yo…u… insane…" Clive whispered. His hands were clenched into fists, all his energy put into trying to breathe without inhaling more blood. Ravendor carefully stretched out Clive's arm and forced his hand to open and expose his palm, slicked with a little of his own blood. Smiling sadistically, the winged demon jammed the long metal pinion into Clive's palm, firmly enough that it would also dig into the rock wall and function like a nail, holding him there. The swordsman howled out in agony, his fingers twitching as pain exploded in his hand, and from his cries, he descended into a fit of choking coughs, gurgling feebly as the dart shredded his throat even more. Blood began to course out of the corner of his mouth and around the wound, so painful, so torturous that Clive barely felt it when Ravendor stretched out his other arm and performed the same terrible procedure to his left hand, pinned there firmly enough that Ravendor didn't have to hold him up anymore. With one final, swift movement, he removed the feather dart slowly choking his enemy, a string of thick black blood dripping off the end of the metallic tool as he dropped it to one side, to rest along with the sword.

The pain lessening a little, and the object blocking his windpipe now gone, Clive opened his eyes and pulled weakly at his restraints, growling as they caused more blood to spill forth from his hands. He was trapped. Unable to talk for the time being, he resigned himself to stare at Ravendor maliciously, his bushy fox-like tail repeatedly hitting itself against the stone wall in anger. Feeling sick, Clive bit the inside of his cheek when Ravendor carefully sunk his talons into the sides of Clive's neck, the winged demon leaning forward as he wanted to speak to Clive more closely. "I've wanted this to happen for so long, Clive Winslett. I have waited to hear you scream, to be in agony, to finally pay for all the injustices you have committed upon me. You always seemed to be beyond pain and despair, inhumanly so, so I wonder if you can keep up that image, even now?" Because Clive was pinned one or two inches higher than his height, the swordsman's feet dangled a little off the ground, which meant that Ravendor had to stand slightly on tip-toe to look at his enemy face-to-face. The winged demon regarded Clive's wounded neck curiously, sadistically, in a way that was far too uncomfortable for Clive.

"I don't suppose you know that most demons are… slightly vampiric… do you?" He asked his enemy softly, tilting Clive's neck up to expose his throat a little more. The wound was knitting itself back together as time went by, which made it easier for Clive to breathe by the second, but some blood was still smeared down his neck, collecting in the hollow of his throat. All of the colour drained from Clive's face. Ravendor was not seriously considering that, was he? Of course he knew that certain kinds of demons drank blood, that was why all demons had small, vestigial fangs, but Boomerang had not been one of them. The idea was repulsive, in his mind. If only he could just get away… pick up his sword, and…

"However," Ravendor continued, removing his hand from Clive's neck and taking a step away, regarding his enemy hanging there, totally helpless. "Your blood to me is very bitter, disgusting, tainted with your pitiful excuse for a soul. I have other plans for you instead. Why don't you… taste this?" He raised his hand and dark electricity sprung from Ravendor's body to Clive's, the twin feather darts holding Clive in place acting like lightning rods, welcoming the shadowy energy into the swordsman's body. Clive's screams were drowned out by the crackle and fizz of the electricity and static in the air, and when the torture finally ebbed into mere painful tingles, he slumped weakly, his head lolling to one side as blood leaked out of the corner of his mouth in a sad little stream.

Quietly, weakly, like the faint echo of a whisper, he tried to say something. The hole in his throat had finally disappeared for good, but he couldn't speak without his voice breaking and he coughed frequently. Ravendor, curious, tried to listen. It sounded like Clive was attempting to say a singular word, but got stuck and ran out of strength as he tried to work through the syllables. Tears of pain mingled with his blood, dripping down his chin. "D…d…dev…de…deva…stt…atee…" He wheezed, clenching one hand into a fist, which tore open his wound even more.

"Excuse me?" Ravendor said pleasantly. "You'll have to speak up, I cannot hear you very well." Clive opened one eye, still gritting his teeth like he was still in the abyss of agony, but curiously, he smirked, letting out a short laugh that was combined with a cough. The metal demon again rasped something quietly to himself, feeling the ache of the wounds in his hands now that the dart had been taken out of his neck. They had pierced him completely, and a small amount of nerve damage was making his fingers twitch unpleasantly. Then, taking in a deep breath, he cried out at the top of his lungs;

"DEVASTATE!"

Light compressed itself into a tiny space in front of Clive's body and then exploded like a supernova of brightness, a solar flare which drowned out and banished the darkness for a short amount of time, exposing every nook and cranny of the darkened room. Clive had closed his eyes and had tried his best to turn his head away from the attack, to protect his vision, but Ravendor had not been aware and received the brunt of the arcana, staggering back and crossing his arms over his face to cover his eyes. The bandit leader lost his footing and fell onto his side, blinded. This was the chance that Clive needed. He did not have much time to escape.

The nerves in his hands screamed mindlessly as he pressed both his wounds further into the thin and deadly black metal, pinned by the twin feather darts. His palms were cut even more, the wounds growing larger as Clive pushed his hands away from the wall, feeling every millimeter of the dart as it passed through his flesh, coming to the widest part of the object, and then sliding out of his hand easier as it reached the tip and tore away, leaving it free. Now he had a huge gaping hole in the middle of his palm, on both palms, as the other hand pulled away from it's restraint. Clive turned around to see where he had hung, the feathers were still there, embedded in the rock wall. The metal demon was bleeding like he was experiencing a stigmata, but knew that he would heal soon, and he still needed both his hands to continue fighting.

He picked up Kuronegaiken, lying on it's side in the dirt, and winced as the leather grip touched his wound, but endured it bravely. Taking the sword up with both hands, he strode up to Ravendor, lying on his side while he was still trying to recover from the devastate attack. Clive smiled, he had figured as much. If Ravendor was a nocturnal creature now, designed for night vision, then a light attack would be too much for him to handle. The swordsman turned his sword upside down, still grasping it by the handle, about to bring it down in a vicious stabbing motion in Ravendor unprotected body. Clive struck, expecting a splash-back of black demon blood…

Ravendor grabbed the blade of Kuronegaiken instead, near the middle of it's length, holding it in a grip of steel. Clenching his taloned claw tightly around the metal, it was amazing that he did not draw any blood. The material that made up his claws and wings were incredibly strong, they seemed to match up to Kuronegaiken in their toughness. Ravendor smiled and struggled to his feet, refusing to let go of Clive's sword. "Nice tactic, brilliant talent… You got me there, Clive… for a moment…" He looked at Kuronegaiken's blue and ethereally gleaming blade, seemingly pained by it's presence. Ravendor appeared to be having trouble holding onto it for much longer.

Clive's hands had gone numb, but they had stopped hurting and bleeding, which was good because the fluid had been slicking Kuronegaiken's grip, making it harder for him to hold on. The sword shone brightly in Ravendor's hand, pressing into the dark-plated metal protecting his palm. Clive could feel a thin stream of energy flow through the medium of the sword and disperse into his body, being taken from Ravendor's contact with the weapon. It was like a weaker, though permanent kind of Life Drain arcana, and Ravendor was the target, this time. Clive's voice was scratchy, but it worked much better than before. "Kuronegaiken enjoys the taste of your aura, Ravendor. She likes to feed off the misery of sinners the most." He said, feeling stronger by the second.

The winged demon's smile faded as he narrowed his eyes, a crack appearing along the surface of his armor, where the edge of the sword had been pressed against it severely, drawing Ravendor's blood. It trickled down his palm and he was forced to let go, pushing away from the weapon and taking a backwards leap so that he stood a few yards away, at a moderate distance. Clive ran after him again and easily dodged a slice made by Ravendor's left wing, intercepting the right with a parry and then ducking a little as the bleeding claw made a swipe for Clive's face. The metal demon smashed his weapon against the shield of Ravendor's outer wing, dealing no damage, but developed an idea in the process, jumping out of the way of a blow that would have sliced one of his arms cleanly off.

When Ravendor struck at his body again, Clive dodged it with a moderate amount of trouble and instead of lashing out at one of Ravendor wings for a near pointless attack, the swordsman jumped back and landed in a crouch, throwing himself forward in a small roll, making sure he did not cut himself with his own weapon, and snuck under Ravendor's wings for his next attack, accidentally grazing one of the longer razor-sharp flight feathers and cutting him in the side. Instead of getting up, Clive raised Kuronegaiken and stabbed blindly at Ravendor's body, hoping to make a hit. He felt the flare of exhilarated pleasure in Kuronegaiken's blade, dizzily happy at the shedding of another's blood. That sensation ran up Clive's arm, and the metal demon looked up, holding his blade with only one arm, the other braced against the ground. Blood was pooling around him, pattering onto the dusty floor. Ravendor's wings changed back from their rigid metal state to soft harmless feathers once more. The bandit leader coughed, moving his hand down to touch his stomach.

The ancient demon sword had pierced him straight through his body, poking out the other side. It drank in whatever blood it could, and let the rest spill down without heed. A shudder went through Ravendor's body as Clive stood up, pushing Ravendor's wings away as they could no longer hurt him. The dark-haired man looked bewildered and unattached to reality, but carefully placed one hand upon Clive's shoulder, before looking down at his enemy with amusement. Ravendor looked impressed. Wrapping both hands around the blade, he pulled it out with a little help from Clive and stepped back, looking at the blood collecting in his metal-plated claws. "Imbecile." He said smoothly, darkly, but with mirth. "If you are going to stab a demon, then pierce them through their heart. It is their one weakness." Ravendor looked at Clive and shook his head sadly. "Pathetic." He whispered, and then vanished into a haze of dark mist.

Clive fell to one knee and cursed, the weakness of all his injuries creeping up on him. His healing factor could heal wounds over countless times, but being used so frequently slowly put a strain over his body, a weakness that made his limbs become slow and heavy, making him tired. He ran what Ravendor had just said to him over in his head, wearily adjusting his glasses. Pathetic…Yes, that was what he was. He was letting himself be beaten, he couldn't let that happen! Not only did the lives of his family and friends hang upon the outcome of this battle, but the lives of all humanity itself. Ravendor was not Ravendor anymore, he was just a puppet being manipulated by the programming of the Council of Seven, yes, a puppet controlled by a puppeteer who was already dead. It was beyond sad…

"Eliminate Scanner!"

He was struck in the back and was forced to his feet by the pressure of the attack, crying out as an invisible vice was clamped around his middle and squeezed mercilessly, almost strong enough to break his ribs, but not quite. Clive shook like he was being squeezed to death by Diablo itself, but shakily forced himself to turn around, seeing Ravendor behind him with his arms out and hands spaced properly to distribute the technique, putting a great portion of his energy into the skill. Ravendor laughed. "As long as there are shadows and darkness for me to disappear into, Winslett, I shall live on!" Clive forced both hands to hold onto his blade and dug around in his memory for a counter attack, one that would nullify the effects of Ravendor's eliminate scanner. He could only think of one in his tortured state, and hoped, prayed that he had the ability to replicate it.

I hate having to do this… To perform a technique that was her trademark, but it seems I have no other choice… I am a demon, so this should not be out of my range to use…

It became easier to breathe all of a sudden and Clive grabbed at his throat, taking in some deep and steadying breaths. The air in front of him had thickened and gone hazy, like waves of superheated air. It took away nearly all of the power behind Ravendor's eliminate scanner and turned it into nothingness. Ravendor lowered his hands, perplexed. "That is Melody's energy shield…" He said, walking towards Clive but still keeping his distance. "How are you able to copy her skills?" His demeanor blackened. "Tell me now!"

Clive coughed blood onto his hand as he held it over his mouth, his knees feeling weak and unsteady. He smirked, enjoying Ravendor's confusion, and the effect it seemed to have on his emotions. "Yes… Melody…" He rasped, wiping a smear of blood off his mouth with the back of his hand. "I fought her once… many times… It was my team and I… who stopped her and the Prophets from achieving their goals. You can… blame me for that as well… Ravendor… if you wish…" The swordsman laughed a little, punctuated by small coughs. It was unlike him to rub salt into another person's emotional wounds, but another part of him was quite enjoying the taunting. Clive felt that Ravendor deserved it, for what he had already done to his family. "I don't know… how she died… but I think that I was… one of the last people to see her alive…"

Ravendor closed his eyes and seemed to relax, and as soon as the energy shield wore off, Clive retaliated with an eliminate scanner of his own, probably not as powerful as his opponent's, but still very damaging. Ravendor's right wing covered him just in time, shifting back into it's metal form, catching the attack and then extending outwards, throwing the technique into the wall. Other than this movement, Ravendor had not moved a muscle. He finally spoke, dully, tonelessly, taking steps backward and away from his enemy. "I see now…" He announced quietly. "You prevent me from ever seeing Kaitlyn again, you take Catherine away from me, you kill Melody…" He smiled wanly. "It is as if you did not ever wish to see me happy. I believe that the saddest thing is that you succeeded, Clive." He chuckled a little, and then shrugged. "I did not really want much, you see, but in the end, I got nothing. How ironic…" Ravendor laughed again, but it was harsher and more forced. "How pathetic…"

Limping over to the dark-haired man, Clive had to use his sword like a crutch. "That's a lie!" He exclaimed. "I never wanted that! It just… it just seemed to happen like that… it was the way things were supposed to be… even if it was not fair. I'm sorry about what I did, Ravendor, seventeen years ago. I'm sorry that I saved your life. I should have just let you die. Maybe you were supposed to die… and I just didn't see it. If you had died, then all of this would have never have happened…" Breathing hard, Clive lifted his sword up again, ready to attack. Ravendor watched him do this without making a move, with his back now up against the wall. The swordsman calmed his heart and mind, trying to clear his thoughts of all conflict. "Allow me to remedy that, Ravendor. Let me kill you now, and I can repent for the sin of allowing you to live…"

"…No."

With his back pressed against the wall, Ravendor entered a shadow and melted into it, his form shifting to match that of the darkness itself. Clive watched this happen and slashed hastily at the rippling shadow, making no more than a gash across the stone's once untouched surface. He had been too late. Remembering what had happened before, the metal demon sprinted towards an area that was far away from the walls and most of the shadows, holding his sword close to his body and tensed in case of an attack, turning himself around every few seconds to prevent another back attack. Clive anxiously held onto the frame of his glasses for a few moments. Why did Ravendor flee from him when it was he himself who desired this duel in the first place?

"Let us see your confidence when you must fight in pure night!" Ravendor's voice echoed from somewhere hidden, triumphant and almost lacking sanity in it's tone. Clive glanced down at the ground above his feet just at the right time where an aqua-colored line encircled his body once, forming a perfect circle, before five different lines cut through the circle in their own direction, one line ending where another had begun, forming a human-sized pentagram which filled with runic text, demonic text. Clive did not have the time to read them as the aqua colour turned to a deep pitch black and spread out from the circle like a huge ink stain, soaking everything in darkness. It was like an infectious disease in the way it spread in the beginning, but then it picked up speed and became a rushing wind, everything it touched turning pure black. Clive now found himself the only distinguishable thing in an ocean of nothing, just like his dream world, although he was now in reality, at least some kind of reality…

Ravendor's reality.