Darcy Hugh
The priest was suddenly grabbed by the head like a sack of potatoes, before he could even react a flick of the woman's fingers spelled his sure doom. The poor man was cruelly sent sprawling back and crashed into his chair before tumbling down on the ground.
"Am I so useless that I can't even love..."
He wept weakly like a drunk, trying to reach for one more shot as he laid on the ground. However, he was too weak, defeated, crushed by the monster woman. Even though his body was still alive, his heart had been shattered beyond repair.
Thus he muttered his last words before going out cold.
Garou XIII
Garou groaned in annoyance and his heart began to beat anew. What a pain, for him to ruin his epic surprise like that and prevent from pulling a one up from behind. Did that fool really have no sense of drama?
"Huh? I ain't that desperate, dumbass. That attack was just so lame that I happened to fall asleep. Well, I guess if you look at it that way, I did die of boredom." He said tiredly, rising up nonchalantly and wiping off the ice and dust off his tattered clothes.
What was most terrifying was not the fact that he still stood, such a thing could be attributed to determination or fighting spirit. No, whatever was standing in front of the hero was no longer of the realm of humans. For no human, no matter how strong, would have been able to walk off such an attack. To even consider such a thing as a possibility was nothing short of insane.
And yet, he was not only standing, but he was fine.
Somehow, that monster had managed to laugh off the ice that could have frozen the flames of hell itself. Indeed, notions such as hell and heaven meant little to that man, that beast that had already cast away the realms of logic.
Had it been anyone, Jin Kisaragi would have surely come victorious. Perhaps if the ice did not break, he could have at least been immobilized. If that hero was to try to freeze over that fiend's blood boiling with rage, he should have at least made his attack a thousand times colder.
For coldness implied a lack of motion, this frozen hell was nothing more than a breeze compared to his burning rage. Compared to his hate, that frozen prison was comfortable.
For that small instant, his body, his blood had begun to boil and heat up at ridiculous degrees, far beyond what any material could manage. It was a suicidal, reckless maneuver that would have ultimately resulted in turning him into scalding ashes, vaporising his shell into nothing.
Simply put, no one with the slightest sense of self preservation who valued his own life could, or would have done such a thing.
But it was because the ice was so immesurably, uncontrollably cold that he had been able to spend all his energy into that simple maneuver and fight that attack with all he had, to reach temperatures reminiscing of the sun without having to scarifice his body and vanish.
And even so, his body had still lost, for no matter how you looked at it, the wounds running all over his body spelt his defeat. No matter how you looked at it, he could not win. And yet, was to shrug off his ultimate attack in such a fashion truly a victory for the hero?
For as monstruous as it was, there was a different quality to his smile. No, unlike before, it had no cruelty, malice or ill intention to it. It was almost sad. For at least a moment, what stood before the hero was not Garou the monster, but a human.
"Sorry, but I saw through your trick. Your cold justice... won't reach me anymore." He said in a surprisingly calm, almost peaceful manner. He had used most of his magic energy, but his body was not any weaker.
And so, the villain untimately charged in once more, closing in to deal another strike and resume his senseless, suicidal fight.