Alcohol was a strange substance. It dulled the mind and befuddled the senses, and yet somehow, it gave Cobalt just the nerve he needed to duck out of the way of Izzbelle's opening swing. Dropping to the bloodied floor of the combat ring, her oncoming fist sailed cleanly over his head, just narrowly grazing one of his horns. But as ready as he felt to take the Oni on, he had failed to realise just how outmatched he was. As he tried to get to his feet, his opponent lashed out with her other hand, grabbing the Incubus' arm and twisting it behind his back.
"GRRAAAAAH~!"
Another thing that Cobalt had failed to remember was just how strong she was. As effortlessly as could be, the Oni clutched his arm tight and swung him clean over her head, like he was little more than a ragdoll. He sailed through the booze-soaked air before being roughly slammed against the floor. Shockwaves of pain shot through his body, but as addled as he was, the sensation was somewhat numbed.
Freeing himself from Izzbelle's grasp, Cobalt jumped back to his feet and stumbled back, trying to create some distance. His heart was hammering fast, but his thoughts just weren't keeping up. All around him, the Sulfur Bloods yelled and whooped, baying for blood.
"Come at me, dumbass! Come on!" Izzbelle roared, pounding her fists together.
The Incubus swallowed hard, doing his best to try and remember what he learned in Applied Demonics, all those years ago. When caught in a situation without their Leather Whip to hand, a Lust demon's next best bet was their legs, able to deliver powerful kicks. But it was common knowledge that Succubi had the weakest bodies compared to all the other kinds of demons. Surely the same logic applied to Incubi...?
An answer - of sorts - came to Cobalt in the form of an oncoming haymaker courtesy of Izzbelle, who had taken advantage of his brief absentmindedness.
She struck with all the force of a freight train. It felt like her knuckles were comprised of pure concrete, smashing into the side of his already-bruised face and sending him down in a shower of blood and spittle. His head connected with the floor, feeling as though his brain was rattling around in his skull. The pain was agonising, and yet somehow it didn't get to Cobalt.
Teeth gritted, he planted his hands against the floor and suddenly swept his leg as Izzbelle. Though his sidelong kick did nothing to stop the Oni's advance, it jarred her enough to allow him to get to his feet and continue his assault. He rammed his knee into her stomach, but that too was like a brick wall. Grabbing his shoulders, Izzbelle violently headbutted her teacher, heavily stunning him and allowing his body to flop to the floor once more.
"Get up! Get the fuck up!" Izzbelle roared, her voice echoing distantly.
His world was spinning all around him, rocked by the Oni's thunderous strikes. The howling of the crowd bled into the ringing of his own ears, intensifying into a cacophony that hurt his already pounding head.
Why the Hell did he agree to this? Izzbelle was a powerhouse, even among other Oni. He didn't stand a chance against her!
Wiping the blood from his mouth, Cobalt grabbed the ropes at the edge of the ring and shakily pulled himself to his feet. No, he couldn't let hopelessness pollute his thinking. Intoxication was already making this difficult enough.
It was then that it struck him. Izzbelle was strong, there was no doubt about that. A veritable force of nature, but such forces are indiscriminate. Imprecise. She was relying purely on brute force, fighting without strategy. If he could just manage to stop her charge and deny her the momentum she needed to lay waste to her opponents, perhaps he could yet gain the upper hand.
The Oni rushed forward, fixing to flatten him with a brutal shoulder tackle. Throwing himself out of harms way, Cobalt took a deep breath and narrowed his eyes. He had to keep calm... calm...
"Rolod...!"
Feeling his senses heighten, he turned his gaze inward. Dodging another flurry of punches, he imagined pain, drawing from the agony flowing through his own body. As magic began to flow through his body, he furrowed his brow.
"Metatpulov...!"
Pleasure. Working off descriptions of physical satisfaction that he had read about in the past, the magic slowly intensified, coalescing in the palm of his hand. Agony and ecstasy, swirling together into a paradoxical storm of sensations.
"AMRIFNOC EM!" screamed the Incubus, balling his fist as his fist began to glow.
Ducking beneath Izzbelle's oncoming fist, Cobalt rushed forward, eyes set on his target. With magic burning hot in the palm of his hand, he braced himself and let loose with a powerful Fesser Strike, slamming his knuckles directly into her exposed abdominals. Though the impact hurt the Incubus just as much as her, the magic flowed into her body without a hitch, causing Izzbelle to fall backwards, eyes wide behind her mask.
The Fesser Strike relied not upon physical might to make an impact, but rather the paralysing and disorienting effect of suddenly feeling intense pleasure and debilitating pain at exactly the same time. She cried out in confusion, head held in her hands.
Just the kind of opening that Cobalt needed.
Closing the distance between them, he kicked off the ground, twisted himself around and lashed out with both feet, dropkicking Izzbelle squarely in the chest. She flew back into the far ropes of the fighting ring, much to the shock of the onlooking crowd.
"C- Can we please stop this now...?" the Incubus gasped, clutching his pounding chest.
"Stop...?!" hissed the Oni, shaking the errant sparks of magic away.
Cracking her knuckles, Izzbelle lifted her mask and spat onto the floor. Smoke was starting to curl from the corners of her mouth.
"We're only gettin' fuckin' started...!"
Like a raging bull, she launched herself off the ropes, shaking the entire ring with every footstep she took. Knocking aside the Incubus' feeble defense, the furious Oni grabbed him by the lapels and raised him high into the air. Thought Cobalt kicked and clawed, he couldn't break free.
"You come to my fuckin' home! The one fuckin' place I thought I was free of you!" she hissed, tightening her grip.
Her eyes flashed.
"Not on my fuckin' watch...! Egua mutnemom...!"
Orange sparks of energy began to circulate around her forearms, growing faster and faster as they began to vibrate. As the heat began to rise, her eyes glowed brighter and brighter.
Cobalt's eyes widened, his heart lurching as he realised the oncoming danger. Kineticism was an often overlooked branch of Oni magic, but it was no less dangerous than their control of fire or mastery of the axe. To be able to manipulate energy in both its kinetic and potential forms... It had some terrifying applications.
Such as charging an Incubus so full of it that he was launched across a dank underground bar and into a solid stone wall.
The force of impact was enough to nearly knock him clean out, but by some miracle or other, Cobalt managed to keep a grip on consciousness. Groaning in pain, he shook chips of stone out of his hair and grabbed a nearby table. Before he could climb to his feet however, Izzbelle came charging out of the crowd, veiled in a miasma of orange energy. Shoving a nearby Sulfur Blood out of his seat, she grabbed a barstool and raised it over her head.
If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.
"YEEAAAARRGH~!"
Charging the stool full of kinetic energy, she brought it down it a brutal arc. Though he just about managed to roll out of the way, it shattered against the floor rather explosively, peppering the Incubus with chips of wood and bent nails.
Crying out in pain as a splinter tore his cheek open, he leaped up and gritted his teeth. Though his stomach was churning with fear and nausea, there was something else as well. That same primal, burning sensation that prompted him to stand up to the Headmistress. He still didn't have a name for it, but he knew it was something he could rely on to get him out of this situation.
Stepping aside as Izzbelle swung her fists, Cobalt bit his tongue and began to incant.
"Sumah!" he yelled, opening his arms out wide.
Shadowy tendrils burst out from behind him, launching forward to all corners of the underground chamber. Snorting, Izzbelle continued her relentless assault.
"Missed, you fuckin' dumbass...!" growled the Oni, winding up a devastating haymaker.
Cobalt quickly crossed his arms as he braced his knees.
"Aenil!"
The dark cords jumped at his command. In an instant, they all looped around, instantly tangling around Izzbelle's legs and forcing her to the floor.
Running up to the Oni, the Incubus raised his foot high over her face.
"HCONK!"
He brought it down without mercy.
Compounded by dark magic, his foot smashed against Izzbelle's masked face, obliterating it in an instant. As shards of fired clay rattled to the floor, the entirety of the Sulfur Blood common room went silent. The music died. The revelry ceased. Even the idle chatter of drunken gangsters ebbed away.
All stared at Cobalt as he held his foot over Izzbelle's shocked face. Swallowing hard, he took a step back and snapped his fingers, dispelling the tendrils wrapped around her ankles.
"L- Let's, um... call it a draw...?" he murmured quietly, his confidence draining away as she slowly rose off the floor.
But it was clear from the look on her face that she was far from happy with such a verdict. Smoke veiled the Oni's head like an infernal halo, her visage like fury incarnate. Izzbelle raised her fist, ready to drive it directly into his face.
But a thunderous voice suddenly halted her advance.
"Izzbelle! That's enough!"
Standing stock still, eyes wide, she slowly turned to face the entranceway stairs. There, Lorenzo stood with his arms folded, hair flowing in the wind from the open trapdoor. Everyone in the common room stood to attention, even those too drunk to stand.
Slowly, she lowered her fist.
"This was you, wasn't it...?" she breathed, pointing a finger at Cobalt.
The warlord glanced over at the Incubus' bruised and bloodied face.
"For fucks sake, Izzbelle. Did you have to go and rough him up like that?!" he chided.
"Fuck you! I do what I fuckin' want!"
"You're drunk Izzbelle. Just do yourself a favour and shut up before you embarrass the two of us any further."
She stomped her foot.
"I don't give a shit how you feel, old man!"
The way she said that... It struck a chord with Cobalt as he realised that he had heard those exact words before, in almost the same context. From the same people. When he was performing the Dream Intrusion on Izzbelle, she was arguing with her...
"... her father...?" he murmured, eyes widening.
Noticing the look in his eyes, Lorenzo took a deep breath and nodded slowly.
"Corris, would you kindly take Cobalt and Izzbelle over to my room? It seems I best explain myself before things get any uglier," he called, glancing over at his advisor.
Snorting, she necked the last of her whiskey and got up. Stepping over to Cobalt, she produced a handkerchief from her pocket and wiped the blood off his best.
"Best we go quietly, eh? Lory only gets polite when he's pissed off."
She looked over at Izzbelle.
"That means you too. You know how your pappy can get, yeah?"
Fists clenched and shaking, Izzbelle glared at Corris before turning her ire onto her father.
"Oh, I know."
-----
It was tense in the clan leader's audience chamber, even moreso than before. Cobalt knelt on the reed mats, one hand held to his bruised eye as he fearfully peered around. Izzbelle knelt just a few feet away, fists still balled with rage. She stared dead ahead at her father, who sat cross-legged upon his mat, smoking his pipe. Taking a deep drag, he allowed the red smoke to coil out of his nostrils before he opened his eyes.
"Let me start by askin' this. What the fuck where the two of you thinkin'?" he asked, raising a bushy eyebrow.
"What the fuck were you thinkin' invitin' him here?!" Izzbelle retorted, jabbing a finger at the Incubus.
Lorenzo raised a hand.
"Izzbelle, Mr. Trayer is a guest"
"But why?!"
"Let me finish and I might just tell you."
He took another deep drag as the door behind them opened.
"Hope I'm not late," spoke a familiar voice.
Craning his neck, Cobalt watched as an Oni woman entered the chamber. She was dressed in a neat suit now, but he recognised her from the PTM.
"Ah, Aelda! Don't worry, honey; I wouldn't have dared to give the news without you," Lorenzo responded, taking his wife's hand and kissing it gently.
Kneeling down next to him, Aelda nodded at Cobalt.
"We meet again, Mr. Trayer."
"Th- That we do, Mrs. Suyas..." he stammered.
Clearing his throat, Lorenzo brought all their eyes back to him.
"Now. Cobalt. I've had eyes on you for a while now, and you've done plenty to intrigue me. Bein' a man of your pedigree, I figured you'd be a cut above the rest, but that little spectacle down in the common room - though supremely stupid - really cemented it for me. What do you think, honey?"
"There's grit under that soft exterior," Aelda added, accepting a drag from her husband's pipe.
"Mm. Grit. I suppose he's got some after all..." Lorenzo said, grinning.
Izzbelle suddenly slammed her fists against the floor, teeth bared.
"What the fuck are you talkin' about, old man?!" she barked, eyes narrowed.
Her father sighed and rubbed his eyes.
"Izzbelle. My dear, sweet hellion child..."
"Don't fuckin' call me that!"
"It won't be for a good while yet, but there's gonna be some point in the future when I'm gonna have to step down as clan leader. And as my sole heiress, it's gonna fall to you to don the mantle," he explained.
"I already told you, I ain't gonna lead the fuckin' Sulfur Bloods! No way, no fuckin' how!" retorted his daughter, straightening up.
Lorenzo's eyes flashed.
"Well you ain't got a choice."
Swallowing hard, Cobalt slowly raised his hand.
"Um, sir? I- Is this a discussion I should be listening to?" he asked, wincing as his bruised eye throbbed.
The warlord smiled.
"Of course it is."
He turned back to Izzbelle.
"Now listen. You know as I do - as all our people do - that it is our blood that makes and defines us, and that it is the strength of our blood that carries us into the future. Take our marriage customs; strength belongs with strength. My grandfather arranged my father's marriage. My father arranged mine. And now..."
Lorenzo took a deep breath.
"I know more than most about the strength of the Trayer bloodline. And I intend to make good on a promise I made to your progenitors, Cobalt."
Again, another vow made to his family. Just what was going on?
"You, my boy, are going to marry my daughter."
The news came as a shock, more than any other that Cobalt had heard that night. His heard damn near stopped in his chest as his blood flowed cold in his veins.
But as bad as Cobalt was taking it, Izzbelle took it much, much worse. Her eyes nearly bulged out of her skull as her breathing grew staggered and stilted. Her jaw hung open, but she seemed unable to speak.
"Such was the job I wanted you for, Cobalt. Such was the deal I made with Viola," he explained, taking another drag of his pipe.
"M- Mr. Suyas, I- I couldn't possibly-!"
"I AIN'T FUCKIN' MARRYIN' HIM!" Izzbelle roared, leaping to her feet.
"Izzbelle, please. Keep your voice down," Aelda chided.
"NO! NO, NO, NO! NOT A FUCKIN' CHANCE! HE'S MY FUCKIN' TEACHER!"
"Enough backtalk! The arrangements have already been made, Izzbelle!"
Lorenzo drew himself to his full height and stared his daughter down. He was an incredibly tall man.
"The weddin's in a few days. Your mother has already got your dress ready. I suggest you start writin' your vows."
Izzbelle was enraged. She looked as if she was ready to attack her father, right there and then.
But she didn't. She didn't even say anything. She just spat on her father's chestwrap, turned on her heel and stormed out of the audience chamber, leaving the door open as the winter winds howled.
"That girl, I swear..." Lorenzo sighed, rubbing his forehead as he knelt back down.
"She's willful. Gets it from you. Go after her, honey. Make sure she doesn't break somethin'," Aelda responded.
Sighing, the Oni warlord just nodded and got to his feet. Nodding to Cobalt, he stomped out after his daughter, sliding the door shut behind him. Alone with Aelda Suyas, Cobalt nervously looked up. She was staring right at him, smoking the pipe.
"Um... Mrs. Suyas?" he asked, voice quivering.
She raised an eyebrow in response.
"Why me...?"
The Oni smiled.
"It's simple. I've seen what a Trayer can do, and I think you've got it in you to tame that daughter of mine. Just... I didn't think Lorenzo would jump to marriage so quickly..."
Shaking her head, Aelda got up and made for the door, stopping only to pat the Incubus' head.
"You'll be staying in with Izzbelle, so... good luck," she sighed, before stepping out into the cold.
Alone in that audience chamber, Cobalt clutched his eye and shivered. So many thoughts were rushing through his head that he couldn't focus on a single one.
Save the look on Izzbelle's face.