Chapter 6: Execution
"With that last exchange of words, both fighters are prepared to bring this home for their side. Who will win, the Hero of France who holds humanity's hopes and dreams? Or Heaven's Executioner, here to punish mankind's pride?"
With that, Nemesis once again rushed at Charles-Henri, who remained stationary. She swiped at him with her claws, the last vestiges of her shadowy transformation now completely under her control. Once again, he blocked it with the flat of the blade, but this time a swift kick to his legs knocked Charles-Henri off balance.
In response, Charles-Henri turned on his heels, going into a spinning maneuver that ended in him slamming the pommel of his sword into Nemesis' chest, hitting just on top of the diagonal slash he had left prior in the fight.
Nemesis charged in again, her hands and body language in an almost grappling stance. Charles-Henri met her head on, charging in as he brought the sword down at her. Nemesis side stepped and quickly corrected her posture, reaching out with a straight kick that resulted in her heel landing squarely in Charles-Henri's gut, right on the same stab wound she had left him with. From there, Nemesis ran in low to the ground, grabbing both of his legs.
"Nemesis' fighting style has almost completely changed! No magic, no tricks, no weapons, just pure Pankration!" Helios called out, watching as Nemesis grappled her opponent.
Charles-Henri dug his feet into the dirt, trying to maintain his position, but the instability caused by the chest kick was too much and the Frenchman tumbled to the ground, his sword clattering to the ground nearby. Nemesis mounted him, bringing up her arms for a hammerfist strike, striking the side of his head. She continued with multiple of these attacks, while Charles-Henri bent his knees and planted his feet flat on the ground, pushing down on the ground to try and force his way up.
Through sheer force, Charles-Henri rose back up to his feet and overpowered a God once again. Nemesis' legs were wrapped around his midsection, trying to maintain the ground-fighting, but it was no use. With his sword gone, Charles-Henri resorted to the one thing he could think of: a right hook, aimed directly at the Goddess' face.
Nemesis released her leg lock and tried to move back, but the lack of her wings meant she was without her enhanced speed, and instead took the punch into her midsection. Still, the force of the hit from his enhanced musculature sent her rolling through the dirt, opening her wounds further.
"Wrestling and boxing aren't your strong suit," Charles-Henri noted.
"No, I never had much of a talent for it. Truth be told, in terms of physical strength, you surpass me on every metric. You might even give Mars a run for his money," Nemesis admitted, standing back up and wiping away a bit of blood that had come from her mouth.
"You won't be able to beat me in a fight like this, you know that. So what, your plan is to make up for it by dying?" Charles-Henri asked judgmentally. "No shadows, no dodging the attacks…"
"That power is the one I used to work for Jupiter. I want to prove that I can do this without them, that I can do this with my own power," Nemesis explained.
Charles-Henri sighed again. "You're a stubborn one, aren't you?"
In the audience, Moros frowned. "But it's not like Jupiter gave her those powers, is it? She was born with them."
"Yes, but think about it. She's spent how many centuries using those powers to curse and torture people and Gods alike. You can't blame her for having some negative feelings about them," Nyx said.
"Rhamnousia is too frail for Pankration to work," Thanatos mused.
"Pankration?" Hypnos repeated.
"An old style of martial arts and combat from Ancient Greece. Wrestling, boxing…anything goes in that style of combat, but it relies just as much on physical strength as it does on ingenuity and a willingness to cheat," Erebus explained. He looked down at the ground,"I'm afraid if she keeps this up, then-"
An elbow from his wife jabbed into his ribs silenced the God of Darkness, but all knew what he was about to say. If she insisted on continuing without her abilities or weapon, she was sure to lose.
Nemesis stepped forward, relying on clumsy footwork to close the distance. With her sole good wing, she flapped it down to propel herself a few steps to the side, circling around Charles-Henri. With the distance closed in and wrestling proven to be a fool's errand against Charles-Henri, she entered into a stance similar to that of a boxer. Instead of going for a punch, however, she brought up the elbow of her right arm in a sort of uppercut, forcing her opponent to take a step back to avoid it. As he did so, he once again received a heel kick, this time to the small of his back. Pain shot up his spine as he stumbled once again.
As he stumbled forward, Nemesis took her chance and struck out with one of her clawed hands, striking something similar to an open-handed rabbit punch, slicing into the flesh of the back of his head, even if only shallowly. Bright red now marked Charles-Henri's face and otherwise pristine white hair as he threw himself to the ground into a roll, putting some distance between them. As he did so, Nemesis realized the full reason for the maneuver as he found his sword where it lay on the ground, picking up the massive weapon once again.
Charles-Henri lowered his body into a crouching position, his center of gravity lowering to the ground. After a moment, he launched himself forward like a spring had been uncoiled, sword in front of him as he launched himself directly at Nemesis. "Crux Simplex!" As he approached, Nemesis did the unthinkable. Rather than dodging, she charged in, forming a familiar palm-strike gesture with one of her clawed hands. She reached out to grab the tip of the sword, feeling it pierce into her skin and biting back the pain. She then brought her other hand up, impaling Charles-Henri's chest with her hand. "Adraestia: Spearhead!"
Charles-Henri coughed up another mouthful of blood, and Nemesis ripped her hand off of the tip of his sword. It was a risky maneuver and had cost her much of the use in that left hand, but she felt confident that it would be worth it. With another deep wound in his midsection, Charles-Henri was left racked with pain and frozen in place for a moment. Unfortunately, Nemesis was likewise running low on stamina. Blood loss had begun to affect them both, their visions weakening and bodies beginning to slow down. Both fighters took a knee for a moment, sitting in their own blood and the dirt.
"I've never been much of a fighter. In fact, I think the only time I got into a fight when I was alive was when some kids at school found out who I was. They didn't want to go to school with someone with a bloody family like mine," Charles-Henri said through pained breaths.
"And did you win?" Nemesis asked.
Charles-Henri scoffed. "Of course not!"
Nemesis laughed despite herself, flinching as she did so. "I'm sorry, it shouldn't be so funny. To think that the one giving me so much trouble was a boy who had never even won a fight before...How pitiful."
"Oh yeah? I wouldn't feel too bad about yourself. None of your myths were about wrestling monsters after all, just laying curses and killing people," Charles-Henri laughed. "Not exactly a soldier yourself."
For a moment, the two were able to rest and catch their breath, bonding for even just a moment about their similarities.
"You really don't intend to use any of your tricks from here on, huh?" Charles-Henri repeated the question from earlier.
"I have no intention on relying on the monster that Jupiter made me to be," Nemesis said rather coldly.
"But was he the one who gave you those powers?" Charles-Henri asked.
"No, they came from...my family." Nemesis looked at where her family was seated forlornly.
"Then don't you think not using them is more of a dig against your family?" Charles-Henri asked. "You should make use of the gifts they gave you. It's your power, not Jupiter's."
Nemesis paused to think, rising back up to her feet and to her full height. "You may be right, but...no, I cannot. Not after everything I've done."
"So be it. Makes it easier for me then, I guess," Charles-Henri sighed, likewise returning into a fighting position.
"Someone has gotten cocky. No, this will not be the end for me," Nemesis said. She lowered herself into that same grappler's stance, but the act of opening up her stabbed palm made her pause. The sword had dug in deeper than she had expected it to when she had tried to block the blade.
Seeing this, Charles-Henri saw an advantage he could take. Once again, he dashed into the direction of Nemesis' blinded eye, trying to slip into her newly formed blind spot so he could land some kind of surprise attack. Even with the enhancements his muscles were being given by Pistis, the pain from his many injuries and spent energy made it difficult for him to run with full speed. But still, he was able to slip into the blind spot even if barely, rushing the Goddess of Revenge. Too slowed down by her own injuries, she was unable to dodge in time and once again felt the executioner's blade stab into her side. The blade sank in deep, likely rupturing an organ and tearing through her side. Her arms flew down to grab the blade, using all her remaining strength to try and keep him from pushing the blade in any further. Another push like that, and he might actually be able to cleave her in two.
Blood leaking from her mouth and her body futilely trying to fight back against the executioner's last attack, Nemesis felt the world begin to fade around her. She could feel the energy leave her body, taking her consciousness away with it. It would be so easy for her to just close her eyes and give up, to concede the point to humanity and let Charles-Henri finish taking her life.
"This wouldn't be a horrible way to die. Atoning for my mistakes by letting the humans fight back," she thought to herself. "Why did I waste so much of time hating them? Is this what all of this was going to lead to? Is this my divine punishment?"
Just as Nemesis had begun to talk herself into giving up, a voice cut through the din of the crowd. A female voice, one that she had not heard in centuries and had been too afraid to confront, even knowing that she was somewhere in Heaven.
"Mother!" called out Helen of Troy. Nearby sat her half-brothers, Castor and Pollux, as well as her father and stepmother. Her husband and lover were both, rather conspicuously, absent. The porcelain-skinned brunette that looked like a curvier duplicate of her mother was shouting through the crowd, cupping her hands at her mouth to act as a makeshift megaphone. "Don't give up! You can do it! I don't care what happened, just come back to us!"
Nemesis was pulled out of her funk, her sole eye drifting to the sound of her daughter's voice. For a brief moment, memories of what had happened to Helen came back to her. The sight of her hanging in that tree, of the way the humans talked about her. That shadowy energy began to manifest around her once again, threatening to let Erinys Telkhines take her over as it spread up past her arms.
"Charles-Henri, finish this now!" Pistis pleaded as Charles-Henri struggled to try and impale the Goddess on his sword.
"Charles-Henri Sanson...thank you for helping to clear my head," Nemesis said through gritted teeth. The shadows were running up her neck but had frozen in place now. "You know, I thought she might've hated me, blamed me. Were she born a normal human; she wouldn't have suffered. But she wants to see me again, can you believe that?"
Nemesis looked into the man's eyes; her sole remaining eye glowing that same amber light. "Oculus Malus: Invidia."
Remembering what had happened the last time that attack had been used, in that split second Charles-Henri removed his sword from Nemesis' midsection and took several steps away, feeling his body become heavier and heavier. As he stopped moving, he realized that he would be easy prey for her once she regained her bearings. Still, he had almost disemboweled her with that last attack. Sword in hand, Charles-Henri began to breathe heavier and heavier, almost sounding like he was on the verge of hyper-ventilating. When he caught his breath he let out a sound no one had quite heard from him before: a loud, echoing roar. Not of frustration, or pain, or sorrow. Those in the audience who had seen combat before saw it for what it was: the cry of a warrior, preparing for what was sure to be a deadly clash.
Suddenly, he reared back into another unusual stance, repeating the stance he had used for his Guillotine as he bent his body back. Nemesis smirked to herself. "Not sure how you're moving with all that weight on you, but that's fine. I'll use your own strength against you, and see justice be done."
Charles-Henri knew he could not keep this up for long. The pain, the stress, the hyper breathing, the scream. In that moment of noise, he had summoned all of that knowledge to the forefront of his brain, overloading himself with stress for the explicit purpose of forcing his body to secrete more and more adrenaline. So long as this sense of adrenaline ran through his body, he would be able to replicate his enhanced strength for just a moment longer.
"My power does allow you to control the individual components of your body. Sure, Prometheus meant for it to be used only on your muscles, but it's a clever enough strategy. Alright, let's finish this, Monsieur Sanson. Together. On my signal, we strike," Pistis advised.
"Come on then, Nemesis! Come and meet your fate!" he challenged.
Nemesis, still injured, charged, using her one good wing to flap and propel herself forward with awkward speed. Charles-Henri prepared to swing his sword in another downward strike, hoping the enhanced force of it would cleave her in two. Both sides, humans and gods alike, sat in stunned silence as all knew that the fight would come to an end in the coming seconds, no matter what. Humanity prepared to see the Frenchman bring his sword down on his opponent, while the Gods waited to see her piece his heart with her claws.
But the sword swing never came down, not even as blood spattered across the floor of the arena once again.
In the moments before their clash, Charles-Henri waited for Pistis' signal. But in the moments before Pistis could give the signal, Nemesis seemed to remember something, flexing and rotating her hand in some strange gesture. Neither the fighter nor his Aeon could figure out what she was doing, too focused on trying to time their attack perfectly. Suddenly, Charles-Henri collapsed under the weight of his own attack, something having pierced his legs in multiple places. When he looked down to see what the cause was, he could see Nemesis' whip had seemingly attacked entirely on its own. With his weight unbalanced from the whip stabbing into him, it had distracted him and shifted his weight so that the attack would never land, even if he had timed it properly. And so Nemesis took advantage of that, catching him as he fell and driving her free hand into his throat, impaling it. "Adraestia: Spearhead and Whip!"
Charles-Henri sat, Nemesis' claw resting in his throat, feeling his senses leave him. The taste and smell of blood filled him, and he could see his vision begin to fade. Nemesis removed her hand from the wound, but now sat there cradling his body.
"Wh-But how?" asked Juno.
"Hmph, no smart answers for this one, Minerva?" Jupiter mocked bitterly. "You see that whip is no normal Divine Weapon. When she first lost control and attacked me that time, she made it from her own shadows. Her shadows, that whip...all are just pieces of her soul that she learned how to weaponize. Normally she'd be too feral to even think of doing that, since in Erinys she tends to rely more on curses, but-"
"Seems the presence of her daughter and that human's words helped to bring her a sense of peace," Minerva finished.
"No!" screamed Louis XVI, his face pale as he and the other royals of France were frozen in place.
"This isn't how it was supposed to end," Robespierre mumbled.
"Surely he can still fight, right? The Hero of the People won't go down so easily, right?" Danton pleaded.
"No, that's a look I think we've all seen enough times," Charlotte Corday hung her head, hands gripping the hem of her dress in frustration. "He's going to die."
Pandora remained silent, on the verge of tears but unsure of what to say and without anyone to say it to.
"Guess...you won," Charles-Henri said through a mouthful of blood.
"I don't take any enjoyment in this," Nemesis said. "I suppose this is what you wanted, to see me develop a real sense of justice? But this hardly seems fair."
"Maybe...Enjoy your reunion with your daughter," Charles-Henri said weakly.
"And your family, shall I pass on any message to them?" Nemesis whispered.
"Tell them...I did my duty...to the end," Charles-Henri coughed, straining through the words. Nemesis could have sworn she saw him beginning to tear up through it all. "And that I'm...sorry. Again."
Nemesis watched as green cracks began to form across Charles-Henri's body, spreading from where his heart was and encompassing his whole body. Unseen by everyone still, Pistis appeared next to the executioner, his own body disheveled and cracking under the pressure of the fight.
"Sorry about that, Pistis," Charles-Henri thought, no longer able to speak.
"Save it. I chose to put my faith in you, same as Prometheus. I always knew this was a possibility," the Aeon said, attempting to sound cold even as his own body began to crack and splinter. "Still, hell of a way to go out, huh?"
With that, the fighter and Aeon shattered, crumbling into dust and fading away as if they had never existed at all. Nemesis took a moment to catch her breath, rising to her feet and slowly making her way out of the arena. She recollected her whip, and all watched as the shadowy appearance of Erinys began to subside. She once again looked completely human, with no claws or black voids consuming her body. But her body showed several wounds and scars, with a nasty section of her chest gouged open from Charles-Henri's stabs and her wing still mangled. As she limped out of the arena and into the Gods' hallway, Helios called out to the audience once again.
"In a surprise upset, Nemesis landed not one but two decisive blows and knocked the Grand Executioner to the ground! He can hardly speak, let alone move! And with that, it looks like round one is coming to a close! And our winner is the Goddess of Justice, Heaven's Executioner: NEMESIS!"
Nemesis vs Charles-Henri Sanson
Victor: Nemesis
Match Length: 13 minutes, 40 seconds
Deciding Move: Adraestia Spearhead and Whip
Gods 1 - 0 Humans
Nemesis limped out of the arena, entering the hallway to the Gods' side of the arena. The vision in her remaining eye was blurry, and the pain from her various wounds was worsening now that her own sense of adrenaline had worn off. It was all she could do to steady herself against the nearest wall, leaving a trail of blood behind her as she moved. As she entered the dark of the hallway, her feet fell out from under her and Nemesis felt herself begin to plummet, headed straight for the ground.
But what she felt was not the cold hard ground, but an oddly warm embrace. She looked up through weakened eyes and found herself being held up by Erebus. Her mother, Nyx, was rushing over to help her to stand. Behind them, her brothers stood, each with a look of concern.
"Mother, Father, I-" Nemesis began to croak out.
"Quiet girl, this is the first time we've all been in the same place in over a thousand years. There'll be time to talk later, just rest," Erebus soothed her. "You did wonderfully, now let us help you to the infirmary."
"You'll be coming home when this is over," Nyx said, not as a question but as a simple fact.
Nemesis groaned in pain as her father helped her to move. "Yes, I think I will. But first, I have a message to pass to Lord Jupiter: I quit."
"There will be a slight delay in between rounds, as the arena is being cleaned. That fight was a bit bloodier than I think we had anticipated," Selene explained calmly, as various minor deities and servants of the older Gods went about cleaning the arena. The Gods were too busy celebrating their victory to care, while the humans shuffled uncomfortably.
"What a foolish boy," Robespierre grumbled. "Sent in to defend mankind and bring about justice, and he concerns himself with the fate of his opponent."
"Maximilien, I'll not sit by and let you slander a man who died helping us!" Danton warned.
Robespierre chuckled. "No, I was just thinking of how truly human of him that was. Terror is nothing without civility, civility is nothing without the terror to back it up. He died, pleading the case of a weaker person to the very end."
"Shame he had to die again to make that happen," Danton sighed, clasping his former political rival on the shoulder. "Come, we'll drink in his memory. An ode to the Great Sanson."
"Not the worst idea," Robespierre relented. The two men helped Charlotte Corday to her feet and guided her away. The other Kings and Queens of France were not far behind, leaving only King Louis XVI in their wake.
Louis XVI searched for words, but they failed him. All he could do is sit and mourn, silent tears coming down his face.
Jupiter cackled with glee, kicking his feet in uproarious joy at the sight before him. He had already retired to his private green room with his advisors, enjoying the lush furniture and decoration. While he lounged on his golden chaise-lounge, his advisors stood to either side impatiently.
"I knew it! I've always been right, after all, so of course my fighter came out on top! Take that, you good-for-nothing thief!" he continued.
"Lord Jupiter, you have to know he cannot hear you right now," Minerva deadpanned.
"Oh, don't spoil my fun," Jupiter whined. "That human had a neat trick or two up his sleeve, and Nemesis nearly screwed the pooch, but we Gods got what we wanted once again!"
"I take it you already have something in mind for the next round, then?" Juno asked.
"Of course I do! Who do you take me for?" Jupiter responded, rising from his seat. "I sent down my favorite errand boy to go and get our next fighter ready! Those humans are in for a real treat now!"
"Yeah, so about that?" a new voice interrupted.
Jupiter and Juno flinched, caught off-guard even as Minerva remained stoic. Laying atop the nearby chest of drawers in the room was a new God, laying back and lounging without a care in the world. His skin was dark, and his body was wrapped in a large white cloak. Black harem pants poked out from the bottom of the cloak, as did flashes of gold. Golden greaves connected to his spine, the metal wrapping around his shirtless torso in a makeshift ribcage design. He yawned, covering his mouth with a hand covered in a golden gauntlet. Each and every jewel on the ostentatious necklace he wore shined in the reflected light. He jumped down from the dresser, briefly pausing to fix the mop of messy brown hair that sat atop his head.
"You have some nerve sneaking up on us like that, little trickster. Need I remind you-"
"Of what happened last time you played a little trick on us infallible Gods. Blah blah blah punishment, blah blah blah Olodumare is lucky I'm so merciful, blah blah bang zoom and straight to the moon," the new God interrupted, mimicking a yapping mouth with his hand. "We go through this routine every time, aren't you at all tired of it?"
"Speak plainly please, Eshu, if only for the sake of not angering Lord Jupiter any further," Juno pleaded.
"Such a gracious and polite wife is really wasted on you, eh old timer?" Eshu, messenger of the Gods and representative of the Yoruba, smiled. "Ah, right, I had a message. Yeah, so your fighter for the Gods had a real fun message for you."
He fished around in his pockets, retrieving a scrap of paper that he then presented to Jupiter, waiting for the look in his eyes. As he read the words, Jupiter's grip tightened until the paper tore into shreds, his killing instinct flooding the room.
"WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN HE'S REFUSING TO FIGHT?"
A/N: I'm not entirely satisfied with how this chapter turned out, but here we are. As much as I liked Charles-Henri and enjoyed writing him, Nemesis would always win this one, even if I did toy with the idea of having Charles-Henri pull out an upset at the last minute. Anyway, I promise future rounds will be longer, and plenty of things that I think you should look forward to.
Next time: The consequences of round 2, and of a certain someone's decision to disobey Jupiter. Also, what has Prometheus been up to?