A/N: Many thanks to you all for your help in the fighting styles! The information was very useful! I'm still not overly confident, but I'll try my best to write the fight scene well.
Okay, since I have no idea how to describe any of the 'magical' attacks Mundus uses, for now he'll just use brute force, okie dokie? Forgive my incompetence.
Chapter 4
Vergil skidded to an abrupt halt, and Dante, who had been in hot pursuit, slammed into his back. Not at all pleased that his heroic charge had been interrupted, Dante demanded of his brother:
"The fuck! Why did you stop? Never heard of momentum?"
In answer, Vergil simply pointed upwards. Dante followed his gaze, and his eyes widened. He let out a low whistle. "Ooh boy."
The three orbs had converged on each other, forming a giant, pulsating vortex of dark energy. Like a deformed embryo, it contorted itself, and something seemed to be struggling to free itself inside. Neither brother moved, attention fixated on the giant structure, waiting.
Eventually, an enormous, pale hand was flung upwards from the centre of the vortex, followed by an armour-plated arm. Slowly, Mundus' true form rose from the dark energy, absorbing it. An immense heat seemed to emanate from the being, which resembled an enormous winged knight. The thing's face, what was visible of it, anyway, was contorted with malice.
"Dude." Dante breathed, trying to ignore the raw power being projected at him in waves "That is so not playing fair."
"Do you ever shut up?" Vergil asked, irritably, shooting Dante a hateful look. It was obvious, however, that Vergil was intimidated by their new foe, despite appearances.
"Nope." Dante said, proudly, puffing out his chest and maintaining an arrogant air. Although he didn't care to admit it, he was unsure that facing Mundus right now was a good idea. Neither he nor Vergil were at their best, having battled through countless challenges with little rest over the last few hours.
None of this stopped them recklessly taking him on anyway, however. It wasn't like they had a choice.
Vergil made the first move. Focusing all his concentration on the task at hand (and not the wise little voice in his head which coolly informed him that he should be running away very very very fast) his eyes flitted across every aspect of Mundus, searching, trying to find a weakness. The eyes, half concealed behind an enormous, jewel encrusted helmet, shone with dark energy. The source of his power, Vergil concluded.
"Aim for the eyes!" He ordered over his shoulder, already charging towards the enemy's enormous feet (as that was the only part of him Vergil could see without craning his neck). He vaguely heard Dante yell something at him, but didn't bother to listen, his attention consumed with the task of avoiding the orbs of dark energy flying towards him.
"ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING! I SAID WATCH OUT FOR THE-"
One of Mundus' feet seemed to fly out of nowhere, slamming into Vergil's stomach with tremendous force, tossing him high up into the air like a rag doll. He cursed, and twisted neatly in the air, managing to land on his feet rather than his head.
"Ooh, nasty." Dante commented sarcastically, casually resting Rebellion on his right shoulder "Still overly keen to describe this as 'fun', Vergil? Need a hand?"
"Not from you." Vergil said, delicately, controlling his temper, his tone icy "Not from anybody."
He detested relying on others. He always had. If he depended always on nothing but his own strength, then he had nobody but himself to blame for the consequences. That was the way he liked it. No complications, no responsibilities.
Dante was giving him an affronted look "Well sor-" the foot descended again, swinging between them with a heavy hissing noise. Dante cursed and leapt awkwardly one way, while Vergil performed a calculated jump the other.
"Shit." Dante, incensed, bellowed up at Mundus: "Can't you see we're BUSY down here!"
His answer was the same foot slamming downwards, trying to crush him, and Vergil smiled sardonically as he watched Dante barely roll in time to avoid it "Apparently not." He murmured, preparing to charge again "Excuse me."
He was yanked back mid-step by the collar, and abruptly shoved aside "Oh no you don't." Dante growled through a clenched jaw "You had your go, it's my turn." Vergil was reminded ridiculously of two small twins fighting over whose turn it was to play with a toy car. Except toy cars didn't try to kick your brains out. Speaking of which…
"Besides, you need to re-arrange your innards." Dante muttered, drawing Ebony and Ivory faster than the eye could blink and emptying a huge amount of bullets into Mundus' armour plated torso.
It had absolutely no effect whatsoever. Not even a scratch.
"I'm astounded, Dante." Vergil sneered, as Dante continued to fire amid much swearing and frustrated noises "That attack was even less successful than I suspected it to be."
"Give it a rest, fancy-pants!" Dante heatedly retorted "at least I actually hit him! Your pansy-ass attack didn't do anything! I don't know how you manage to ever deal any damage, waltzing around like a ballerina-"
"I know how to control my power, unlike you!" Vergil snapped back, colour rising to his pale cheeks "You should never reveal the true extent of your power unless necessary! You fight like a bull, charging about blindly without a thought!"
"At least I win every once in a while!"
"WHAT'S THAT SUPPOSED TO-"
"YOU BORE ME, HALF BREED VERMIN!" Mundus crowed from on high, his words resounding about the ancient stone ruins and making the ground shake "Your pathetic Father was at least a match for-"
"SHUT UP!" Vergil and Dante bellowed in unison, exchanging a look of purest loathing with each other. There was a long, echoing moment of silence as each twin glared hard at the other, breathing heavily. Finally, Vergil spun to address Mundus.
"If I recall, Mundus, our 'pathetic' Father defeated you."
"Yeah, bitch!" Dante taunted, itching to work off his fury. "So shut your homo-girly mouth!"
"Such eloquence."
"That's me: crude, yet effective."
"Crude, maybe."
Dante opened his mouth to reply, but was cut off as a huge hand swept down and closed painfully around his body. Protesting violently he was jerked up to a dizzying height, his head feeling as heavy as a stone, his spine burning. The jerk must have snapped his neck.
Blood rushed to his head as he gained coherency, and immediately started fighting against the enormous fingers trapping him immobile "Ouch! Hey! Let go of me, you three-eyed freak!" He was jerked again so he was now at an angle, hanging practically upside down, and he yelled in the general direction of the ground "Vergil! I'm being molested by a giant sex-confused demon!"
Dante couldn't be sure, but he was pretty sure the blurry blue figure that was Vergil was smirking "And just what do you expect me to do about it?"
"Silence, scum!" Mundus roared, and Dante winced. Every bone in his body was shuddering under the pressure of Mundus' grasp, his heart aching with the effort of forcing blood to flow "Surrender, or I shall crush this insect till his marrow spills from his bones!"
"That doesn't sound too pleasant." Vergil said conversationally. Mundus' hold on Dante tightened, and his torso made a horrible creaking, cracking noise. For the first time Dante abandoned all pretence and cried out in pain, biting hard down on his lip.
"Please, Vergil, just stab him." He ground out, eyes tightly shut, the pain increasing tenfold. Blinding stabs of bright light filled his vision, and he groaned. Maybe he could die. Who knew? There was no record of a half-demon half-human dying or not to prove either way.
"I intend to." At the sound of his brother's voice Dante felt a shameful relief, and braced himself. A rush of air glanced against his brow and a soft hiss filled the air, and he caught a familiar smell of leather and coppery steel.
There was an almighty blood curdling roar of pain so loud that Dante felt as though his ear drums had been nailed into his brain, and then he was falling. The fingers around him fell away and his body immediately began to heal, but he couldn't summon the energy to open his eyes and improve his landing.
Unexpectedly, he was snatched in mid-air by the collar, spun neatly and placed on unsteady feet. He shook his head to dispel the fog clogging up his brain, and just managed to catch sight of the tail of a blue coat before glancing hastily the other way, trying to work out what had happened.
"Hey, Mundus." Vergil said smugly from behind him, and he turned "Need a hand?"
Mundus was still bellowing with pain, clutching the jagged stump that was the remains of his right wrist. In the tiny space between the end of his arm-guard and the beginning of his gauntlet, Yamato's blade had cut a clean and deadly path. Blood gushed from the wound in torrents, and beside Vergil lay the crippled, limply disfigured form of Dante's captor. It was an impressive sight.
"What are you trying to do, defeat him with bad puns?" Dante demanded, rounding unrepentantly on his brother. Vergil raised an eyebrow with a wry expression.
"You're welcome." He said sarcastically, before his features darkened "Now get serious, Dante. No more idiotic mistakes. Or we will be defeated."
"Relax." Dante said soothingly, ego thoroughly unscathed "We can handle this primped-up pussy. Look at him, wailing like a little girl."
"Salutations, my little Sparda fledglings!" squawked a painfully familiar voice "I heard a rumour half-breeds are going buy one get one free!"
The brother's whirled about, to see a ridiculous figure clothed in brightly coloured clown clothes grinning grotesquely at them with a lopsided mouth.
Arkham's alias stood upon the top of a pillar high above them, surrounded by a seething mass of demons. He emitted a high-pitched cackle, spasming with glee, hopping from one foot to the other before bowing deeply "The Jester, at your most delectable service."
"Not this arsehole again." Dante exclaimed, and shuddered deeply. This guy gave him the creeps. Not only that, but his arrival was a significant blow. Now they had a fight on two fronts. Why did things he killed never stay dead?
"I think a re-evaluation of the situation is in order, Dante." Vergil stated, matter-of-factly, surveying the group of demons with a keen, calculating gaze "I have a score to settle with Arkham. I shall temporarily leave Mundus to you." He was clearly about as happy about this as Dante was, but there was no help for it. Two fights, two twins. Not much argument there. "Try to stay alive – and retain just a little dignity and decorum."
"Dignity? I'm all about it!" Despite his bravado, Dante was not particularly eager to face Mundus alone. But if he had learnt anything along the way that life had brought him, it was that overwhelming odds needn't be overwhelming; all the crap fate tossed him he always tossed right back.
He eyed Arkham and his pack of cronies (well, pack was a tender sort of term – more like ravaging horde) and jerked his head to Vergil "Sure you can handle all that extra shit?"
Vergil snorted derisively, and brandished Yamato at Arkham "I'll do my part; you do yours."
Without another word, they turned their backs on each other and charged in opposite directions, each wondering just how much longer they could keep this up.
What felt like hours passed. The endless monotony and constant flow of violence wore against them. It was an unsaid agreement that neither brother intruded or even glanced at the other fight. Banter had no place here, between life and death.
Dante felt himself grow detached, and ceased to think, relying purely on animalistic instinct to guide his body. It felt…strange. His head was going numb, his mind spinning in emptiness, removed from the battle and the noise and the stench of blood. Faced with the constant onslaught of impending death, the reality of it slipped away. Jump, parry, strike, roll, jump, parry again, fire a couple of rounds. He felt like he had made no progress; and Mundus certainly was showing no signs of tiring.
"Damn it." He panted, skidding backwards having just avoided a wayward energy orb. He was now on the edge of the swarm of demons; Vergil's plane "This isn't going so well." Something backed into him and somehow, without so much as a glance, he knew it was his twin "How you doing over here?"
"These-bloody-things-just-won't-DIE!" Vergil gritted out, slashing and hacking at the nearest demons with a gracelessness which did not suit him. He was exhausted; Dante could hear it in his voice, and he became suddenly aware of how his own limbs shook with fatigue.
He heard Vergil cry out suddenly, and he snapped his head round to see that Jester had crept up behind his brother and dealt him such a deep blow to the back that it had surely severed his spine. Vergil managed to stagger backwards, arched double with pain, and Jester screeched in triumph and danced on the spot.
"Gotcha, gotcha, Jester got you, Sparda Ratling!"
They were getting careless. Running out of strength.
"Stop being a coward, Arkham, and face me in a fair fight!"
But even if they could retreat, where could they run? There was no way back now.
"Now, now, now Vergikins! Why make it just the two of us when we can have all these playmates as well?"
Daaaaamn, he needed a drink. I'm going to die. And some pizza. I'm going to die. With cheese. I'm going to die. And pepperoni slices. I'm going to die. And a strawberry sundae for dessert. I won't die. I can't.
Dante gathered all that remained of his strength and stood tall, turning his back on Mundus and impossible odds to stand side by side with his brother "Need some help?"
Of course, what he wanted to say (but neither of them wanted to admit it) was 'We need some help.'
Vergil frowned at him "Haven't you got your own prob-" his eyes widened, looking at a point beyond his brother's shoulder "Dante, behind-!"
There was a deep, sudden impact in his chest. It didn't hurt, not really. It was just uncomfortable. He looked down, and saw the splintered, jagged end of Jester's staff protruding from the left side of his chest. Huh. But if it was sticking out, that meant it was also sticking in…
He felt suddenly choked. The blood was freezing in his veins, the tattered remains of his heart fluttering faintly, unable to heal around the staff embedded in its centre. He was drowning. A great pressure was building in his head, his lungs were on fire, he couldn't breathe, couldn't think-
"You are defeated, Sons of Sparda! Time to end your miserable lives!"
Put a stake through the heart, like a vampire. Who'd have thought it would be that simple? He was fairly sure he was falling to the ground. He could see nothing but red and back, spiraling into deep, pitch darkness. Wait. Blue. A wrench in his chest. A tickling sensation. Vergil's voice. Not words. Just sounds. Horrible sounds. Horrible. Vergil.
'Shit.' He thought, then nothingness.
&&&
A/N: I'm so sorry for the wait! I went out last Monday and bought myself a playstation 2, controller, memory card, Kingdom Hearts and Devil May Cry 3! (KH because I figured I should practice on an easier game). So I've been pretty much playing non-stop!
I personally prefer playing as Vergil on DMC3; he's easier to control. But Dante's more fun. Hee. Yelling. Blam blam blam! (makes dorky gun gestures)
Hope the length of the chapter made up for the wait! Please continue to review!