“Ifrit, is this not what you wanted to see?!” Sigmund asked with a stupendously joyful tone in his voice. “A fight to the death, blood and mayhem? I bring to you what you want, so give to me the means to face this challenge!” At the end of that monologue, an explosion of darkness forced everyone that was currently pinning down Sigmund back.

‘The hell does he mean, Ifrit?!’ John thought, knowing the name from Final Fantasy. It did dawn on the Gamer that he had no idea about the fire elemental that Sigmund had under contract, only that there was one. They all got ready to jump on the one-armed swordsman, but the very darkness that had shoved them off was still hanging around. Multiple spiked stingray tails were waving around like sharpened tentacles; the manta that was the actual shape of Sigmund’s cape must have unleashed to force them off its master.

Within the artificial light of the many lamps and lanterns that illuminated the Abyssal White House, the thick smoke of shadow magic contrasted heavily against the white and gold façade of the building. John could hear a voice, too deep to be understood and speaking in an Arabic tongue he didn’t know, from within there.

A single terrible thought crossed his mind, ‘Could it be that Sigmund hasn’t even fought seriously until now?’ He wanted to dismiss it, then the black swordsman emerged from the darkness at ludicrous speed, coming right for John.

A new left hand of living hellfire, a dark red colour, grabbed John by the throat before he could react. It seared itself into his skin, causing a pop-up to appear immediately.

Worrying about the words there wasn’t something John had really time for as he was slammed to the ground. “This IS a proper CHALLENGE!” Sigmund announced, bowed over him. The right eye opened and yet more fire spilled out of the empty socket. The wounds on his face stopped bleeding, even absorbed the running blood back into the black swordsman’s body. His armour turned from its badly damaged state into a more pristine, polished state than ever before. It looked like an alloy of steel and polished obsidian, as impossible as that was. “Let us fight until one emerges victorious, John Newman!”

The Gamer knew he didn’t have a choice in the matter. Instead, John was used as a plough as Sigmund started running forwards. Dirt and stones were parted around his back, tearing his suit and chafing open his back, before Sigmund decided he had enough of that and tossed the Gamer across the field like a pebble. Slamming into a metal fence, John felt it bend under his impact. Thanks to his pain tolerance, he got back on his feet quickly.

What he saw was utter domination. Sigmund was moving steadily from one target to another. With steps that caused the earth to break, turning the smooth lawn into a shattered landscape of many plates, he charged forwards. Always pulling a streak of darkness behind himself. All of his five elementals were now active. The situation was actually worse than it had been before.

In his path stood the two blanks, Nia and Rime. Together, they attempted to block him, neutralize his power. The entire battlefield was witness to a rare and disturbing scene as the mere attempt caused Nia to become as translucent as a thin sheet of silk. The other blank next to her simply disappeared. No announcement, no scene, nothing, she was as if swallowed by something invisible. The Maiden of Null stood there dumbfounded, was run over and ignored otherwise. She was too weak to even threaten Sigmund’s power.

In swift movements, Sigmund executed five people. He was a streak of black and dark red, trampling over the lives of the weak. Finally, he clashed again with Smlere, who managed to halt his advance for a moment. Long enough for Abraham, Aclysia and Chemilia to deliver a series of attacks. It seemed like they were actually dealing some damage, knocking him around and, with the final punch from the president, into the White House. Sigmund crashed into the century old façade, shattering glass and one of the pillars in the process.

He jumped back to his feet immediately. “Yes, fight, try to kill me, make this worth it!” Sigmund was growing more ecstatic by the second, extending his burning limbs to the side and grabbing what remained of the pillar. The moment he raised it, the fire extended to it, engulfing the white stone in crimson. It didn’t burn the piece of architecture, it simply reinforced it as a weapon as Sigmund pulled back and threw the enormous thing like a spear.

It slammed into Rave as she was charging in, throwing her back and leaving Beatrice to try her luck on her own. With Twist Position, the passive maid managed to avoid a single strike, but the Contender was transitioning his downward strike into an arching slash seamlessly. The empty part between the two blades of Tietan was filled with energy as he moved. Extended, his attack cut apart not only Beatrice but also caused a glowing line to appear on the White House, as if it had been freshly welded together. In reality, that had been anything but a joining piece of craft, and John watched slack jawed as the diagonal cut caused part of the tall building to slide down and crumble in a display of dust.

Beatrice fell to the floor, barely any hit points remaining. For a moment, it seemed like Sigmund would finish her off, then he simply moved on, uninterested in an opponent that couldn’t fight back. Instead, the black swordsman went back to fight the remaining army. Nobody was under any illusion that they could hide from that thing anymore. From the strongest to the weakest, they all threw their attacks at the Contender.

‘Think, John, THINK!’ the Gamer scolded himself as he watched all of this helplessly. ‘There has to be another plan you can pull together. Just three more minutes, that’s all the time you need to bridge!’

Sigmund whirled around in a terrible kick that sent Rave flying away. He charged Ted and separated the man’s legs like he was ripping the wings off a butterfly. A coordinated array of spells sent the black swordsman flying backwards, but he caught his fall. Meeting Chemilia and Abraham coming for him with a quick lunge, he first took out the right leg of the female general then grabbed her by the neck and threw her with his left hand, leaving her throat seared.

All Abraham could do in return was land a punch in Sigmund’s face. A solid punch, absolutely, but the black swordsman continued to grin even as he grinded against the clenched fist with his face and slowly pushed back the president with brute strength. Then a roundhouse kick sent Abraham flying elsewhere, and the Contender took a second to reach into his mouth and made sure the blood elemental was keeping all of his teeth in place.

It seemed they were hurting him, but he just shrugged it all off. Under that armour, his body could have been nothing but bruises, but Sigmund stood tall the entire time. Together with Aclysia, Smlere went to engage the black swordsman.

‘There just has to be a way!’ John thought. His mana was quickly refilling, but nowhere near enough to pull any incredible stunts. Aclysia used Master’s Shield and concentrated on dodging as the lava-haired Combination went on the offensive. ‘What can I do… I don’t have any aces left…’ In pure desperation, John moved the Mandala Sphere downwards.

Smlere hit Sigmund numerous times, forcing the black swordsman to move. Suddenly, Sigmund spat out a load of blood. Then Master’s Shield ended and he turned to attack Smlere. The lava elemental narrowly dodged, moved onto the counterattack and then split. Siena, Salamander, Stirwin and Gnome, they all emerged from the central position. In a stunning display of bravery for such a small creature, Stirwin jumped onto Sigmund and bit into his nose.

As humorous as that would have been in any other situation, now it just served for the crocodile hatchling to be gripped and ripped off like a tic. The bloody trench Sigmund created in his own face in the process didn’t even make him flinch. Wallowing in pain within the clutch of hellfire, Stirwin screamed in squeaky sounds and much louder within John’s mind. A pitiful sound that ended when Sigmund clenched his fist tightly, squeezing Stirwin out of existence.

When John got the usual elemental death window, he was absolutely relieved. At least that hellfire didn’t have the power of True Death. Tietan, the weapon that had, came for the remaining three. Sylph and Salamander quickly flew away, while Gnome threw herself to the ground. That made the one swipe miss, but now she was helplessly lying there.

Sigmund loomed over her, grabbing his weapon with both hands, about to use this living stone as a perverse parody of Arthurian imagery. It was a combination attack of Salamander and Sylph, the former bestowing her attack buff on the thunderstorm elemental, that offset that catastrophe. A golden arch of lightning, dark grey side arms forking out of the main torrent, hit Sigmund and created a large Lichtenberg figure on the left side of the man’s face.

John came to a conclusion. There was no plan he could make. He had no more tools to abuse, his well had run dry. All there was now was a desperate last stand for little over a minute. As Sigmund regained his standing and immediately succeeded in landing a giant slash at Salamander, John imagined that even a person that sucked at melee would be necessary in this engagement. Otherwise, one of them, if not more, could die.

The Mandala Sphere crashed into Sigmund with nothing else but its own momentum. A blast of light blinded him, Rave trying her best to use her beaten body at range, clenching her broken ribs with the other hand. John would have loved to heal her, or Ted and Chemilia, who had dragged themselves off the main stage and were doing their best to not bleed out. What remained of the army was operating under a scrambled command structure, firing volleys of spells at Sigmund that managed to stagger but never mortally hurt him.

If they were to win, it would happen suddenly. John expected Sigmund to die standing, if at all.

With a solid attack delivered to his left leg, the Contender went on one knee. Breathing heavily out of the mouth, he swung his massive sword like a wild boar its tusks. Siena tried to get the jump on him, but her bladed tentacles were blocked by those of her fellow shadow spirit. Sigmund got back on his feet, bloody foam gathering around his lips. Then he screamed ecstatically and started one more offence.

Like a guillotine, Tietan descended on Gnome. She stepped to the side as fast as she could, too slow. The sword entered her body at the right side of her neck and only stopped when the hilt hit the ground. Sigmund pulled his arm backwards with immense speed, the pummel hitting Abraham in the stomach. John arrived in person, jumped and sliced across Sigmund’s face with Purgatory. If he hadn’t already lost that eye, that attack would have done a whole lot more.

’45 seconds,’ John thought as he did his best to distract the Contender for as long as he could. Sylph and Salamander were the only support he could still rely on, everyone else was battered, bruised, broken or dead. An Abyssal army worth of people and Sigmund was still laughing like a mad god of war.

John weaved away under one strike and threw out a wave of Shardbound in the short gap. Moving his massive frame quicker than the Gamer could aim, Sigmund dodged by being elsewhere than John had predicted. The mana flew away into the star filled sky, wasted. While the Contender was concentrating on him, John Newman guided him away from the almost dead soil elemental.

’40 seconds,’ John thought when that finished. Sigmund moved his shoulder into John’s direction; John ducked too quickly, falling for the faint, knee ascending at his jaw a moment later. The Gamer had no idea when the fight had gotten there, but he was catapulted right into the Oval Office, or, rather, the equivalent of it that was owned by Abraham. ’35… seconds… he managed to think as he got back up. His life was down to 40%. Maybe, just maybe, they could finish this.

“I commend you all!” Sigmund announced grabbing Tietan with both hands. The fire in his eye went from only the crimson fire to a swirl of energies. A wave of multi-coloured light exploded out of his body and cleared his surroundings of any attackers as he raised his massive sword above his head. “I might actually die if I don’t use this!”

‘Fuck my everything,’ John thought as he saw what Sigmund had only threatened to use last time. Thrashing elements around him prevented anyone from approaching. John tried to get somewhere, anywhere, but so close to the source of it all, the raging energies only sent him flying against a wall.

30 seconds remained before the barrier locking fell. The crimson fire concentrated within the gap of the blade. 25 seconds remained. A clear blue joined in, the two opposite energies joining instead of neutralizing each other. 20 seconds remained. Whimsical green infused itself in the blade, the gusts of wind that kept John from moving only got stronger. 15 seconds remained. Fertile and earthy was the brown that was mixed into the insane vortex of colour. All four basic elements melded together into a white light that burned with incomprehensible power. The beam of energy extended far above the blade. 10 seconds remained. Without a counterbalance, the deep purple colour of shadow tinged the white light into a dark colour.

“In battle all falls to the altar of the Arisen’s might!” Sigmund chanted the power filled words and brought down his attack on the Gamer.

John felt weirdly calm as the roof above him disintegrated like his enemy’s arm earlier. Ultimately, the people he cared about would be able to leave the barrier by the time he was dead. That was the one thing truly important. ‘But I refuse to just go!’ he thought and activated Mana Protection. What mana he still had burned away within two seconds when the attack engulfed him. Everything around him was just the dark light of the attack. Everything hurt. He tried to use the Mandala Sphere as a physical shield, but it just melted to the state of non-usability on entrance. He put his left arm behind his back, protecting Undine from the damage. Her healing him continuously was all the help he wanted; he was forcing his mind on her to prevent her from changing into her normal shape and protect him with her body.

If he had to die, he wouldn’t take her with him. The trip to hell was his alone to take and for all the lives he had taken, John was pretty sure that’s where he was going to end up. Undine’s already thinned out mana came to an end. The attack didn’t. His health dropped sharply. 1000 reducing by a dozen with each split second. Then, suddenly, the rate at which his HP decreased took a drop.

He tried to focus his eyes, saw a small, broad figure in front of him, protecting the Gamer with sprawled out arms. ‘Abraham?’ John had a revelation as to who was standing there in front of him.

The president could have just left. Was it repentance for the wrong he had accused John of or was the prideful man just protecting the building that was equivalent with his life’s work? Either way, his short frame was insufficient at protecting John; much of the vast elemental destruction washed over John and kept searing his face. His Health hit 240 out of 2445. More damage came in. Everything went dark. The feeling of being burned, sliced, whipped and bruised at the same time remained for a few more seconds.

Then those too disappeared into blissful oblivion.