https://youtu.be/fUIg9iXrU54

With orange paint splattered all over the walls, a few bouncy balls on the stone floor, and some assorted books and weapons littered everywhere, the ninth floor was like an amalgamation of what had been encountered in the previous eight. But there were a few new additions, too. The room was a fair bit brighter than the rest, having windows cut out of the walls, and there appeared to be a giant disco ball fixed to the ceiling. Large, ornate paintings were everywhere, knocked over, and starting from the staircase was a long red carpet leading to a dark, intimidating and fairly small throne.

Standing amidst the defilement was Anwin himself, holding a stone to his ear. It was orange in colour, with a glowing red rune engraved in it. And he seemed to speak to it;

"Man, doesn't it suck that we're only allowed to command a single type of minion each?" he said, sounding clearly disappointed. "And I got stuck with clowns, of all things!"

"Well, you are a clown yourself! 'Lead what you know' or something like that!" the cheerful voice of Aleron seemed to speak to him from the stone. Anwin pouted slightly, not entirely amused.

"It just isn't fair, man. You know it's not!" he said. "I've got clowns, you've got fencers, and Fafnir gets fucking dragons! Where are my dragons, huh?"

"Fafnir is stronger than us..."

"Yeah, so if anything, we should get stronger troops to bridge the gap." Anwin pointed out. "I could command a dragon..."

"Well, you know what Gardariki said." Aleron stated. "It's, like, a test or something. Something about making sure we're fit to lead in the first place, right?"

"Yeah, I know. I just think this test is taking too long." Anwin sighed. "And I think the guy making his way through Ine right now is going a bit too quickly, you hear? Mind games alone can only take you so far..."

"Wait, hold on. Someone's attacking Ine?"

"Yep. I estimate they're on about...floor seven, now." Anwin nodded slowly, closing his eyes to listen out for the sounds of fighting. "Though it seems they just finished."

"Aw, man. Now I owe Fafnir thirty Voids..." she sulked, causing the ifrit to raise an eyebrow.

"Were you guys betting on this?"

"Well, you know how he has no faith in you, right?" Aleron stated, laughing awkwardly. "He bet me thirty Voids that your operation was gonna go to the shitter before mine. And seeing as no heroes have come to thwart my plans..."

"Thrilling." Anwin narrowed his eyes. "Look, as long as I win against the guy, it's all good, right?"

"I guess. But if they've fought eight floors worth of troops, do you really think you can win?" Aleron questioned.

"'Course I can. I'm, like, the uber-clown." Anwin chuckled, wishing there was a reflection anywhere nearby so he could admire his dashing looks - he'd done a particularly good job with his orange eyeliner today, he thought. For now, though, he began to pace up and down the room, admiring instead what he'd done with the place.

"Besides! If there's one good thing that comes out of leading a group of one type of soldier," he continued, smiling a little. "It's being able to take whoever defeats them by surprise when you turn out to be different from them."

"Heh, when you put it like that..." Aleron muttered. "Kinda makes me feel like I'm a bit too similar to my troops."

"Bah, don't sweat it. You're strong." Anwin shrugged, closing his eyes and listening. "Oh, looks like he's just about cleared floor eight! I'm not gonna want to miss my intro!"

"Ooh! I'd better sign off, then. Wouldn't wanna rain on your parade!"

Anwin chuckled quietly, and as the rune on his orange stone stopped glowing, he stuffed it into his pocket and turned around, facing the throne with his back to the stairs. He closed his eyes, feeling pretty confident in his chances of victory. He hadn't had too much time to practise his Myriad Might's abilities, but that would be okay. From what he'd gathered, it was more of a "don't think, feel" kind of deal. So he waited and listened.

.........

"If that really is Anwin up there, then by the Aesir, by fate, please let him see the light."

A silent prayer, one that Oz uttered inside his head before beginning up the staircase. His heart felt heavy in his chest as dread filled his very being. And just as quickly, he pushed it aside, making the first step. Duty called, after all. Freya was watching, too. He couldn't appear weak in front of an audience, now could he?

"Oz," Freya questioned, causing him to look up. "Are you absolutely sure you're ready for this?"

"Of course." the einherjar nodded, his mask still on his face. He needed it now more than ever, he thought. As he took a deep breath, he ignored his heaving heart and made his way up the stairs. "It's just one person, right? I've fought people before."

"But have you fought this person before?" Freya asked, and at once Oz fell silent. "If it really is him, I'm just worried you won't be up for it."

"If it really is him, I'm hoping we won't have to come to blows in the first place." Oz admitted, sighing. "If we must, though...I've steeled myself. It should be fine."

"If you're sure." Freya smiled. "Then just remember - I'm with you all the way."

Oz nodded slowly, and not a word left his mouth as he made it up the rest of the stairs. He remained silent, walking up to the other end and stepping onto floor nine, where he saw more or less exactly what he was expecting. The orange paint splattered everywhere, more bouncy balls on the floor, a few paintings, a throne and a disco ball on the ceiling. He wasn't sure how much of this was Anwin's doing and how much of it belonged to the castle, but he was sure that there was only one guy as theatrical as he was.

And that guy stood in the middle of the room. Though his back faced him, he recognised that fashion sense from anywhere, and the hair - mostly black, with some dyed orange streaks - was a dead giveaway. Once again, a pit formed in his stomach, though he ignored it, remaining quiet once he heard the black-clad uber-clown chuckling ominously.

https://youtu.be/w3r4MEjA21I

"I hope you've enjoyed the show so far, hero." Anwin began, seeming like he was about to burst into a monologue. "I spent a while putting it all together."

Anwin was about to turn around, a smirk on his face, but that quickly came off once he heard Oz's retort. "I can tell you put a lot of love into this, Anwin, but I'm afraid I'll have to close the curtains on this act."

Almost on instinct, Anwin turned around and called one of his orange daggers to hand, tossing it where the voice came from. To his surprise, Oz quickly dodged, and the knife hit the wall, causing him to stare at the einherjar in surprise.

"...huh. You don't usually dodge those." he commented, raising an eyebrow. "Either you're getting more advanced, or you're the real deal."

"I assure you, this is no stunt double." Oz said, his heart beating quickly upon recognising his voice. He tore off his mask, allowing it to fade into motes of light. "The true Oz Abendroth stands before you."

"If what you say is true, then..." Anwin cleared his throat, smiling wistfully at him. "It's been a while, eh?"

"Indeed. I'm glad we can meet under nicer circumstances than our last encounter." Oz replied, finding that technically wasn't wrong. "I like what you've done with the place, by the way."

"...really?" Freya spoke inside Oz's head, so naturally, Anwin couldn't hear. "A throne, ancient paintings and a disco ball? Talk about an identity crisis..."

"So do I." Anwin stated, smiling proudly and crossing his arms. "You think the disco ball might be a bit much, though?"

"Not at all! This place wouldn't quite be complete without it!" Oz quickly clapped. "You've truly 'dance-formed' this place into your own personal lair."

"Truly, I do a job appreciated by few." Anwin sighed, his face wrought with a genuinely cheerful smile that Oz seemed to reciprocate. "I wasn't expecting you to swing by, though."

"Well, Ine Castle is all the jazz lately. I wanted to see what was up with it." Oz said calmly. "It was filled to the brim with fellow comedians like myself, so it was a bit of a hustle to get this far."

"Oh, and how was the performance? I choreographed everything to make sure the audience had one hell of a show."

"Oh, it was hell, alright." Oz sighed, his smile becoming sad, which Anwin immediately picked up on. He took a step closer, gesturing grandly across the room. "Now, you may be wondering what drove one like me to foxtrot all the way over here."

"I think I've got a pretty good idea." Anwin murmured, looking down with a serious scowl. "I'm sure I'd remember if I'd given you a ticket to this show."

"Confounding your bouncers was no issue! But your troupe attempts a far greater act of deception!" Oz announced. Freya listened from the heavens, thinking about how peculiar it was that the two of them seemed to be on the same wavelength of theatre-kid. "You attempt to confound the heavens themselves!"

Anwin nodded slowly, crossing his arms as his knives began to rotate around him at an even pace. "And what, are you gonna be the big brave hero who stops us?" he asked. "You've grown some stones since we last met, I'll give you that. And that would make you an angel, right?"

"Correct! Even the great Oz cannot stay alive forever, but I was welcomed into Gelhalla's hands." Oz declared, posing as he spoke. "And now, I spread my wings in the name of justice!"

He took a bow, looking up at Anwin in curiosity. "But now, I must wonder - Anwin von Brandt, why have you thrown your lot in with these villains?"

Anwin frowned a little as he eyed Oz's movements. He could tell the einherjar was truly resolute in his desire to be the 'hero' in this tale. He placed a hand on his hip, deciding that such information shouldn't come for free. Taking a step forward, he gestured towards Oz, his smile returning. "From a certain point of view, we can come across as the villains, true." he said. "But while your angels believe we're wrong, our Angels find our cause is quite justified."

"Everybody thinks they're doing the right thing, Anwin. But not everyone is." Oz stated. "And from my point of view, freeing an ancient wolf and setting him against a city is not the right thing. To be frank, I'd rather not believe you were involved in such deeds. But I cannot deny what's in front of me."

"Okay, okay, I get where you're coming from! Some of our deeds are objectively objectionable." Anwin cleared his throat, shaking his head. "And trust me, there's a very good explanation for this, but I can't just give you that knowledge - who knows what Gardariki will do to me?"

"If there is one, I must hear it!" Oz exclaimed, a pained look on his face as he pressed a hand to his heart. Both Freya and Anwin could feel his emotions beginning to spill out as he spoke. "It's been so long since I last saw you, Anwin, and the first thing I learn is that you've joined this group of...of terrorists! And now you want me to go without even learning why?"

"It's not like I don't want to tell you, but the Lord's a real slave driver, you know? It's not like I can do that without getting punished!" Anwin protested, before a lightbulb went off in his head. "...if you were to 'beat the answer out of me', however..."

"...pardon?"

"Yes, that's it. That's exactly it!" Anwin grinned, pointing at Oz while his triad of daggers began rotating around his hand. "Oz Abendroth, in the name of the Hel's Angels, I challenge you to a duel!"

"...pardon?" Oz repeated, staring at Anwin closely. "Did I hear that right? You wish to duel me?"

"Of course I do." Anwin replied. "And let's make it a deal, too. If you can best me, I'll tell you the Hel's Angels' motives. But if I win, you have to flee this castle and never return."

"You know I can't just-"

"Oz!" Freya spoke out, cutting him off. "You should accept the deal! You don't think he wants to have to fight, do you?"

"No, of course not. But we don't have a choice in the matter..."

"Then take that choice and fight! He's just as unwilling as you are, but if you put your heart into it, I really think you can triumph. And just remember - I'm with you, all the way."

Oz took a deep breath, summoning and twirling his gun as he heeded Freya's words. There was one thing he had over Anwin right now, and it was that he believed with all his heart that he was doing the right thing. Pointing it at Anwin, who watched him curiously, he composed himself. "...alright. I accept your terms."

https://youtu.be/5lvQ_3_Ae4Y

"I knew you'd come around." Anwin smiled slightly, his blades spinning rapidly around his body as he stood in front of the throne, his hands glowing with embers rising off them. "Let's hope you haven't gotten sloppy, Oz. I want this to be the stuff of legends!"

"My edge has only sharpened with time." Oz stated, looking around to determine the best course of action. "But the time has come to start this act with a bang! Onward..."

"To freedom!" Anwin declared.

"To destiny!" Oz announced at the same time. The two of them faced each other down, knowing the time for prattle had passed. Now, it was time for their next-best language - battle - to take the reins.

Oz immediately opened fire, aiming his gun and shooting holy bullets at Anwin. Anwin took the hits, surprised at the sudden attack, and formed a whip of orange flames in his hands. He cracked it before lashing out at the angel, and it landed by his feet, causing him to jump before eyeing Anwin with the watchful eyes of a serpent. The ifrit continued slinging his infernal whip, Oz dancing along to the strikes while taking every opportunity to fire his gun.

Eventually, Anwin withdrew the whip and lashed it to his side, letting go as the flames coiled up, slowly reshaping themselves before a creature was formed - a tiger, with flaming fur and glinting red eyes, its claws and fangs composed of pure fire. It unleashed a mighty roar while Anwin forcefully thrust a finger in Oz's direction. "Get him, Bryne."

And the tiger obeyed. Oz, though unfamiliar with this part of Anwin's moveset, knew that he shouldn't stand around gawking while a flaming tiger was charging at him. So he met its clash head-on, a arrow-shaped Flan grenade in one hand and a Galan disc in the other. He watched it for an opening, watching as its body became wreathed in fire.

It leapt into the air and dove towards him, and in Oz's eyes, it was essentially a comet descending on him. He watched its movements closely, warping backwards in a flash of light as it landed, a wave of scorching flames exuding from where it landed that nearly blew Oz away. He braved the heat, but while he was distracted, Anwin summoned his triad of knives and let them loose, each one closing in on Oz and stabbing him in the side. Oz flinched, allowing Bryne to recover and pounce on him, slashing him with its claws before attempting to bite him with a maw of fire.

Once he felt the flame claws raking him, he snapped back to reality and got to work, tossing the Galan grenade into the air before ducking under Bryne's attack and rolling to his right. As he stood up, he saw Bryne attempt to shift closer to him, only for the discus to fall, landing on the floor and exploding in a burst of deafening sound. Even Anwin heard it, and he was taken aback, covering his ears partially to ensure that they weren't bleeding. Bryne, however, was stunned by the sonic blast - seemingly even hurt. Oz, who was used to this, shrugged off the impaired hearing - it'd get better - and raised the Flan arrow into its side, forming a glowing green reticle on contact. His hands now free, Oz worked the forge and formed a pair of kukri knives, ready to get to work.

He slashed the tiger multiple times, twirling around its body while aiming as many attacks at the reticle as possible, and at once it let out a mighty screech of pain. Anwin, seeing this, commanded his blades to disperse, and they began to close in on Oz at the same time, each one coming from a different angle. Oz knocked one of them away from him, but failed to react accordingly to the other two and got hit as a result. Not letting this deter him, however, Oz switched out his knives for a rapier and lunged forth, harshly stinging the tiger and causing it to fall to the ground in its weakened state.

Seeing the crouching tiger, Oz's rapier crackled with green lightning as he swerved out of the way of a flaming projectile claw from Anwin, and stabbed the tiger right in the centre of the reticle, discharging what looked like a spirit shaped like a dragon's head that opened its jaws and bit down on Bryne - the last thing it felt before it disappeared in a cloud of embers that Oz had to avoid being blinded by.

Wondering if the visual pun was intentional, Anwin clapped his hands together as flames began swirling beneath his feet, pointing at a recovering Oz. "Looks like you've got the eyes of the tiger today!" he grinned, performing a few dance-like steps on the spot. "Now, let's see...if you can dodge this!"

Before Oz could react, Anwin slammed his foot on the ground, and the bouncy balls, as if caught in the centre of an explosion, dispersed. They shot through the air, bouncing off the walls and ricocheting off one another, and Oz frowned at the unwelcome sense of deja vu. He created a pair of short sabres and charged ahead, cutting through as many as he could, and Anwin, watching this, created his whip once again, striking both sides of himself and creating scorch marks on the floor.

From those marks rose a pair of ginger-furred cats, with piercing orange eyes. The two of them faced Oz, opening their mouths with a raspy mewing voice, before breathing mighty streams of fire at him. Oz dodged one, only for the other to change direction and target him, and he ran, knowing he'd have to constantly be on the move. He switched to his guns, aiming it at Anwin and firing every now and then, while Anwin quite literally returned fire with both his knives and his actual flames.

All the while, Oz drew closer, conflicted about hurting the cats. So he focused his attacks on Anwin, who dragged his foot across the ground as he gracefully twirled, the flames around his feet flaring up. Raising his hand, he snapped his fingers and swiped in Oz's direction, launching a small sphere of flames at him. It rapidly grew, expanding into the shape of a massive lion's head that glared down at Oz, roaring loudly as if it were alive.

Unsure if he could dodge in time, Oz quickly unsummoned his weapons and pulled out as many Berstan grenades as he could fit in his arms, taking a deep breath as he watched the lion's head approaching. Before it reached him, he tossed all the bombs at him, watching as the leonine fireball collided with them - and then him. Anwin saw the fireball explode, leaving a large amount of green smoke in the area.

Wait, green? Anwin raised an eyebrow, staring at the thick cloud of smoke and hearing the faint sound of crackling lightning. Why was it green? That wasn't his colour. Before he could process this, Oz leapt out of the cloud, body surrounded in electricity as he lunged towards Anwin with a pair of ornate daggers in hand. In the blink of an eye, he had struck Anwin, and the ifrit felt the harsh bite of a snake piercing him while Oz twirled his blades, standing in front of him while panting heavily.

"Face the twin blades of truth," he said, and suddenly, he'd cut into Anwin a dozen times in a split second, darting off to another direction to strike again. "And the armaments of lies - their faces equal but opposite."

He danced around the cats, dodging their fire breath while slashing Anwin repeatedly, the ifrit unable to defend himself even while commanding his knives. His strength slowly sapped away with each cut, encouraging Oz to carry on. "With these blades, I tear the masks we unconsciously wear, and break away from the false self! Sica Scintilla!"

And at the end, Anwin found himself unable to defend himself much longer and fell to his knees, now even more worn out than Oz. The cats vanished into ashes, and the bouncy balls were all on the ground. Seeing this, Oz stopped in front of Anwin, the knives disappearing as well. Oz met his eyes, and Anwin smiled slightly, raising a hand in surrender.

"Heh...I guess you win."