The Leviathan

Chapter Sixteen

Boom.

Sage took a sharp breath. He didn't even know when he'd passed out. He glanced over to Maeve. He could hear her faint, ragged breaths. Good. So she was still alive.

Boom.

There was a loud creaking sound, as the dungeon door groaned, swinging open slowly. Sage's face faltered as he saw the figure standing in the door.

Vergil stepped in, his hands in his pockets. "Things aren't looking too good for y'all, is it?"

Sage didn't reply. He didn't have the strength to deal with this. Vergil walked up to him, kneeling down as he peered up at him. "It appears there are people here for you. Group of peasants stormed the castle gates, and apparently they're having some success."

"It's a shame, really. Myra saw this in advance. She said people would come for you, so here I am. Even if they make it all the way down here, they will only find themselves trap in here with me."

Vergil lashed out at Sage, slapping him across the face. "Answer me when you're spoken to."

Maeve groaned in the corner, moving slightly. Vergil turned. "Nice little touch, don't you think? The two of you get to die together. I've always been a romantic myself."

Boom.

"You don't mind if I...have my way with her for a little, do you?" Vergil began walking over to Maeve, as Sage's fists balled up.

"Stay -"

His chest tightened up. "Sorry, what was that?" Vergil laughed, as he loomed over Maeve.

Boom.

The entire dungeon shook, as the shockwaves increased in magnitude. Something big was coming - and fast.

Right ahead, Sage watched as the ceilings of the dungeon collapsed, two figures crashing through amidst the dust and rubble. One of them he recognized, as his eyes widened slightly. His dishevelled hair levitated slightly from his raw vampire power, ancient sigils covering his skin as they glowed. Behind him, a taller, darker form loomed.

Is that...?

"Valentine! How good it is to see you're still alive."

"Can't say the same about you."

Vergil chuckled. "I have to say I'm surprised that it is you here. Wasn't Sage the one who pieced you up pretty badly during the first war?"

"He did, and he still owes me one for that. But there are more important matters to settle beforehand." Valentine stepped forward, his eyes flashing dangerously. Vergil met the challenge with his own hands outstretched, the air in the dungeon swirling wildly from their energy auras clashing against each other. Sage had seen first-hand what kind of fighter Valentine was. If the 

two were to go into battle here, the aftermath would be catastrophic.

"It's good you brought help then, because you cannot beat me. Who's your little friend?" The man stepped forward, revealing his battle scarred face. His veins rippled underneath his skin like some kind of eldritch creature, the very air moving aside to let him pass as he walked forward like some kind of abomination borne out of a witch's experiment gone horribly wrong. He flashed a crooked grin, as Sage's mouth hung half open. "Hello, Sage. Looks like you've got yourself into some trouble."

"Isaiah. How did you..."

Vergil's composure fell apart in an instant. He took a subconscious step back, as he eyed Isaiah.