As the two titans impacted each other for the first time, the animosity felt by the two of them towards their foe was palpable. The thrust from the Vampire Primogenitor’s rapier had been aimed to pierce the skull of the Frozen Juggernaut, but with a swift and fluid movement his two-handed great sword had been redirected from its swing to protect the back of his head. As the blades sparked due to the scaping of metal against metal, the chill of a worse-than-Siberian winter clung to the battlefield like the embrace of an unending and torturous apocalypse.
The combatants separated and made distance between themselves with not even half a second having passed since the winter warrior had arrived on the field. The bloodsucker held her thin sword in front of her body, taking the posture of an expert fencer while the red menace merely rested his massive slab of a blade on his right shoulder and waited for his opponent to move. While to them it felt like seconds passed as both sides waited for the other to attack, in truth not even half of a second had passed since their first impact. Their senses were quickly being turned up to eleven, and the world around them slowed to a crawl.
The vampiress lacked the time to wait for the mortal to attack and exploded into a cloud of ethereal bats that faded from the world. The Living Ice Age closed his eyes and reached out to sense his surroundings but did so too late. The Empress appeared from behind and rocketed into him with the aim of severing his spinal column and leaving him paralyzed from the waist down, however the Russian was able to just barely move aside, though it cost him a painful and deep gash along the left side of his back. He swung his massive sword to try and decapitate the lamprey, but to no avail as the leech simply spun in air while using her delicate-looking weapon to redirect the blow.
The hit count was 1-0 in the favor of Alexis, but the wound simply spurred the Russian Colossus to action. With inhuman speed he flew towards the Red Queen and unleashed a flurry of swings, yet due to the parasite’s unnatural capabilities the blows that could crush boulders were dodged by a hair’s breadth. With each massive swipe of his steel, the Tyrant of the Tundra left himself open to a quick counterattack by the vampiress, which slowly caused his wounds to increase.
Not even a minute had passed since the battle had begun, and yet both sides were becoming more and more desperate to end the engagement as quickly as possible. One wished to slay her foe to avoid the death of her comrade and the anger of her husband. One wished to put an end to the cursed existence that kept them from their family and the great revolution against the Capitalist Pig-dogs. The speed of the attacks from both fighters increased until neither could be seen as they danced along the frozen wasteland, the impacts of their strikes causing shockwaves that echoed like thunder throughout the localized arctic blizzard.
The snow was coming down so fast and heavy that the two foes were using myriad tricks and abilities to stay above the ever-deepening layer of frozen water that grew at an unnatural rate. Alexis had the ability to levitate, but Piotr instead merely stood upon the soft snow like it was solid ground, his touch causing the snow to temporarily form a solid foothold for him to use. Even though their speed left the world at a near standstill, the magical nature of Piotr’s power caused the blizzard to act as if the two of them were not moving at supersonic or even hypersonic speeds.
Thus, to the outside observer, the field they fought upon seemed to be gaining a mountain of snow while the entire area was being blocked from entry by a wall of white and wind. It was due to this that Alexis was forced to push herself even farther beyond and erase the rust that had been accumulated over the centuries as she lay in isolation.
Once again, the two closed the distance and the force of their impact created a bubble of pressure that propelled the snow beneath them away and pushed back the blizzard. Again, the two engaged in a mix of attacks and counterattacks as the Russian swung with fury and intensity that no modern man could match. This time he caught the vampiress by surprise as he threw a punch with his left hand while blocking off her movement with the great sword in his right. Forced to block for the first time in quite a while, the Empress’ blade protected its master from the chilled fist of the Soldier of Snow.
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Twisting her blade as the fist stopped moving forward, Alexis drew her sword to the side and ran it across Piotr’s fingers. The enchanted rapier tore through the padded cloth that covered the mortal’s hands and ripped the flesh from the tops of his digits. With a grimace of pain and a snarl of contempt, the Sub-Zero Soviet pulled his hand back and swung his slab of metal in an upwards and diagonal motion, but Alexis moved aside with minimal effort.
The snow was slowly being painted red by the growing number of wounds, both serious and superficial that slowly covered Piotr. Yet no matter how much blood tainted the pure white powder, the blizzard and gale force winds that encircled him at this point caused the stains to vanish beneath layer after layer of freshly fallen snow.
For them, minutes passed as their weapons clashed. Despite his pain and blood loss, Piotr’s movements kept increasing in speed and ferocity, sometimes even putting Alexis on the back foot. Like a ballet of blood, the two seemed to dance around each other, dealing strike after strike and counter after counter as they each tried to force the other to fall. This dance of death seemed to go on without end, but in truth the end was nigh.
The blood loss of the mortal man was growing to great and a few lucky hits to the wrong/ right places left him without the use of his left arm and without his right eye. Another swing from him cost him part of his nose and yet another robbed him of his left ear. Little by little, he was being whittled down by the precise and focused stabbing and slashing of Alexis’ rapier.
Barely able to stand due to the effects of having so many wounds, Piotr held himself upright with his two-handed sword. Through his one remaining eye he saw the Empress close in once again and he let loose the last of his strength in one final barrage of blows. His previous speed was nearly gone, and Alexis gave him cut after cut and stab after stab to try and end the match. Realizing that there was barely any time left, she once again executed a Shadow Step and appeared behind the last Hero.
Piotr smiled and closed his eyes, gracefully accepting his death with dignity. Alexis’ rapier shot forwards and severed his spine and the base of his brain stem, pushing out through his flesh and exiting out the front of his throat. Piotr drifted off into a silent and eternal slumber as his body was held upright by the sword of the Crimson Empress. His form went limp almost immediately and the last bits of breath sputtered out through the wound in his neck, splattering blood upon his dead body.
Alexis withdrew her weapon from the dead man’s body and licked it clean, not exactly savoring the taste but appreciating it nonetheless. To her it was a bittersweet victory, as she realized only too late that this man had wanted to die. The residual will that lingered in his broken form let her know that the last Hero had not intended to survive this encounter and could honestly have cared less about whether he had claimed victory or not. He had wanted to go home more than he wanted to do his job, and the fact that all of his actions during his fight were intended to ultimately end his own life left Alexis feeling cheated.
But right now, there was a far greater thing thing to worry about than the wants and desires of a dead man. She had to make sure that the other person that was here, Alistaira Crowley, was still among the living. She had to be checked up on to make sure that the Fire Magic spell that she had used had indeed kept the Arch Necromancer alive. Lifting up off the snow-covered battlegrounds, Alexis flew through the air towards the village elder’s hut which was now in an even poorer shape than before.
The snow and ice that remained upon the ground was dyed red with the blood of a Hero. Whether or not Piotr would find his home waiting for him and whether or not he would like what was to happen when he returned was something that would be discovered later on. Mere days before Operation Barbarossa was to begin and on the westernmost fringes of the Soviet Union's new borders, a father returned to his family. A second tragedy was about to befall the last Hero.