The two stared at each other for a few seconds. It was a peculiar scene; one didn’t have eyes, and the others were covered. Then Root moved.

It burst through the ceiling in a cascade of obsidian rubble, sending a wave of dust crashing into Leonidas’s face.

They slammed into the ground with a deafening sound, spreading like marble balls.

How annoying.

Root descended like a writhing plant, which it was, slamming into the chamber floor with the force of a falling god. The ground split beneath it, cracks spiderwebbing outward in every direction, obsidian tiles shattering into fine powder.

Leonidas, however, was already gone.

He sprinted left, a crystalline rose forming in his palm, small, hastily made, nothing like the careful constructs he usually built.

He hurled it at the root’s flank. It stabbed into the damned pilgrim’s hide, showering green pus across the ruined floor.

Root swung sideways, casual as a man brushing crumbs off a table, and the force alone sent Leonidas skidding backwards, robe snapping like a flag in a storm.

His heels carved twin furrows into the obsidian floor before he caught himself against a pillar.

His ribs ached, and that was despite his not even being touched. Just the shockwave, a side effect of its destruction.

Right, it’s basically a demi-god. Wonderful.

He formed another rose — larger this time, the petals sharpened into blades — and sent it spinning into the root’s body. It carved deep, green blood geysering. 𝓯𝓻𝒆𝙚𝒘𝓮𝙗𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝒍.𝙘𝓸𝙢

Root screamed without a mouth, the sound somewhere between grinding stone and a collapsing mine.

It healed almost instantly, with skin covering the wound.

Leonidas watched the wound stitch itself closed and felt something close to admiration.

What an utterly repulsive ability.

The sanctum groaned around him.

Another section of the ceiling gave way, a support beam the size of a tree dropping between him and the root, buying him exactly nothing. Root simply absorbed it, the beam vanishing into its mass.

It was eating his sanctum.

His sanctum.

The sheer indignity of it pissed him off to no end.

Leonidas launched himself over a collapsing pillar, roses forming beneath his feet as footholds, buying him height. From above, he could see the full scope of the damage — the Chamber of Blue Fire reduced to ruin, torches snuffed under falling stone, dead roots of the vine ceiling now crushed beneath the pilgrim’s bulk.

Another swipe.

The impact came from his left, not a direct hit, just a glancing blow from the creature shifting its mass, and that was enough. Leonidas flew like a blonde superman.

His back crashed into a broken pillar, the stone digging into his shoulder, drawing blood.

He slid down slowly, leaving a crimson smear on the pristine obsidian, and sat at the base of the wall.

His vision swam.

The next second, something colossal hit him, knocking not only the air, but everything out of his chest. Hell, his chest itself was pulverized, nothing but crimson blood.

He died.

* * * * * *

Leonidas woke up.

His mind felt groggy, as if he had just fought an immense battle, one that took too much out of him.

His face felt unnaturally hard.

He touched it, and there it was, porcelain, cracked, crimson light bleeding from the fissures, the Shroud of Sacrifice.

A torrential flood of memories arrived like a tide coming in. They slipped into place, and Leonidas quietly recalled everything, from the moment he had woken up with his regression’s memories, till the time he died, crushed by a mad pilgrim.

Leonidas stood, feet trembling. Although he had regressed, the memory of the horror he had witnessed still sat in his mind, fresh as the fruit sketchy salesmen sold.

Looking at himself, a smile appeared on his face, hidden by the cracked mask, but there all the same.

He was, regrettably, still not wearing anything.

Silver flames erupted beside him, casting no heat, throwing spectral light across the obsidian floor. His infernal knight stepped through without ceremony, darkness burning in the depths of her visor. She regarded him for exactly one second before her gaze traveled downward.

She looked back up.

Leonidas pointed at himself, then made a gesture toward his chest, using his Edict alongside the explanation.

Savior understood immediately and got to work. The flowers floated into her, and the process began. Everything happened the same way it had in the oldest regression he remembered, and soon Leonidas was dressed again.

A scarlet coat settled over his shoulders. He rolled them once, felt the fabric move correctly, and started walking.

Savior fell into step beside him.

They ran through the Sanctum, rushing through the massive hallways, feet barely staying on the ground for more than a moment.

Willow was already out there, fighting Root, already losing. And it wouldn’t be long before she would lose more than just her sword and armor, and that was something Leonidas would absolutely not allow. For better or worse, he was determined to bring her back with him.

The Chamber of Blue Fire opened before them, torches burning undisturbed, the floor whole and unmarred. Leonidas didn’t stop, but his pace slowed down significantly. Savior stopped beside him, and his gaze traveled to a pillar, one he had spent a long time leaning against.

I spent so long trying to heal myself...and here I am, rushing out to meet death again.

It was ironic, a self-serving bastard trying to save an equally selfish woman. Leonidas chuckled and turned to move, the door right in front of him.

He gave a mental command, and it opened with a burst of cold air. It rushed in, snapping against his coat, making it flutter with dramatic elegance.

Leonidas stood at the threshold of the Sanctum of Sacrifice and looked out at the ruinous clearing beyond, craters still fresh, obsidian trees still burning, the distant sound of something massive moving through the forest.

He twisted Blush once in his arms and then set it on his shoulders.

Time to see if my gamble will work.