For many years Gascoigne had fought against dangerous creatures. Whether it be beasts or Yharnamites infested with the beast plague, on the brink of losing their sanity, yet still sane enough to see hunters as their number one enemy. It made little to no difference to him. They were his enemy and they needed to be dealt with accordingly. Though he was never one to leave a job unfinished, he did, on multiple occasions, leave the hunt unfinished to return to his family.
But when growing too accustomed to the hunt, man forgets what it is he treasures the most.
Gascoigne looked at Gehrman, and then at Sombra. His axe was inches away from the Crystal Heart, and his body hurt like hell. But he would not retreat. For he was a tool of God. An instrument for his divine wrath on Earth—or rather, those who oppose and defy him. The Healing Church could go to hell for all he cared. God was with him, and that was all he needed for now. With God by his side he would not lose. He would not cower in the face of darkness. And in his eyes, Sombra was that darkness.
“It would be wise to lower your axe,” Sombra said, his voice showing hints of concern for his Crystal Heart. “Preferably away from my Crystal Heart.”
“Like I said before: the dead do not speak, Sombra. Hold that tongue of yours, lest I have to cut it out.”
Gehrman turned his head to look at Gascoigne. The wounds Sombra had inflicted on him were bad, very bad. He should have collapsed from the loss of blood minutes ago and yet he did not. The Old Blood could heal injuries, yes, but it would take time for the human body to heal. And Gascoigne was running out of time. Every hit he landed on Sombra had no effect on the evil king. It was like the king himself was immune.
Gascoigne grunted as he felt his ribs began to hurt even worse than before. He was no stranger to pain, but enduring this much pain was really taking a toll on him. He wanted to kill Sombra. Not only because of his lies and how he deceived him, but also because of the fact he took away his chance to meet up with his family again.
But the hunter had no idea what to do. He had no idea how to defeat Sombra. He was never one to delve into the Arcane, so he could not use any of those tricks. He only knew how to hack and slash… for that is all that he really did. Thinking back, he wished he had never left his home. He should have stayed. He was Father Gascoigne. Proud Healing Church hunter, but most of all: A servant of God. Now if only he could figure out a way to defeat Sombra. He had to use his head and think.
His thoughts were interrupted, however, when Sombra grabbed hold of his leg and dragged him across the concrete. Gascoigne had little time to react as he grabbed hold of the Crystal Heart. He instantly wanted to slash his axe down upon it, but realized it was no longer in his hand. He had dropped it.
Great.
His body was lifted up and the Crystal Heart was snatched from his hand. Sombra laughed manically as the evil king now took possession over the magical artifact. Now he would finally return to his full power. His shadow started to vanish, and his own body took form. Gascoigne was dropped to the ground and rolled towards the palace, the last of his ribs making sickening cracks as the hunter came to a halt.
This hurt. This hurt a lot. Using another blood vial would not help him. His wounds were far too severe and his bones were broken beyond repair. Even when he was at his peak he could not defeat Sombra. But Sombra had not been playing fair with him. No matter how many times he had tried to hit Sombra it would never seem to affect the evil king. Even though man versus beast was never a fair fight to begin with, Gascoigne still trained to become stronger. But Sombra… he was on a completely different level.
Gascoigne looked at Sombra, whose shadow had completely vanished into thin air, revealing a black-coated unicorn standing where the shadow once stood.
Sombra smiled wickedly as he levitated the Crystal Heart in front of his face. Finally. Finally he was at his full potential. Finally he could have his revenge. He felt his power increase immensely. The power of his Crystal Heart was no pushover, and he would make the best use of it.
‘It would seem you are in quite the pickle,’ the voice of Oedon echoed through Gascoigne’s mind.
‘What is it that you want, Oedon? Come to laugh at me? Have you come to tell me you were right and I was wrong?’ Gascoigne thought back, wincing in pain when he moved his body a bit too much. ‘If so then please leave. I no longer need the help of your kind. I have my master, and he is not as weak and manipulative as you are.’
‘Manipulative?’ Oedon repeated sarcastically. ‘The so-called Great One Sombra was the one who manipulated you. You believed everything he told you. Your family, did you honestly think you would be able to see them again?’ Oedon asked, earning a grunt from Gascoigne as a reply. ‘I can show you something. I believe it will help you clear that mind of yours. Your questions will be answered, but the answers you will get will not be pleasant.’
Gascoigne blinked in confusion before he felt something hit him on the back of his head. The hunter collapsed to the ground and his body went numb.
Gehrman turned his head to Gascoigne, shaking his head in slight disappointment. In truth he had thought that the Church hunter would have gotten up, perhaps even using another blood vial to help him stand and continue fighting. But now that Gascoigne had succumb to his wounds it was up to Gehrman to finish where the Church hunter had ended. Defeating Sombra would perhaps prove a greater challenge than Gehrman had first anticipated, but Sombra was not in his previous form. It appeared that Sombra had turned into a pony. A normal, yet menacing looking pony.
“So it appears the king finally shows his true self?” Gehrman called out to Sombra who, in return, smirked wickedly as he glared at Gehrman.
“And it appears you have to be taught a lesson.” Sombra said, his eyes shifting towards Gascoigne. “My slave, how foolish of you that you actually thought you would be able to stand a chance against me. You were determined, I will give you that, but sometimes determination is not enough to win a war.”
“Of course it isn’t.”
Sombra’s eyes widened in shock—something he had not expressed nor felt in a long, long time. Gehrman stood in front of him, Burial Blade in one hand and Blunderbuss in his other hand while he stared down at Sombra with a neutral, yet menacing gaze that made the king rethink his little speech from before. Before the king could react he was kicked by Gehrman’s peg leg. The wooden surface colliding with Sombra’s cheek made the king wince in pain as he was sent flying backwards.
Sombra shook his head and groaned in pain. The fact that he was seeing stars made him realize he was not dealing with someone as brute and—in some way, clumsy as Gascoigne was. Gehrman was definitely on a completely different level than Gascoigne, of that he was certain. Turning his gaze forward to Gehrman, Sombra grinned.
“I must say that I am impressed,” Sombra said, inhaling a gush of air. “But I will not go easy on you. You are just one obstacle in my way to victory. And you will be dealt with accordingly.”
“In all honesty I was not even trying,” Gehrman said, running his index finger across the edge of his Burial Blade. “I am far more powerful than your former adversary.”
“Then shall we put that to the test?” Sombra asked, smirking as he powered up one of his spells. Letting out a roar, the evil king shot a blast of dark magic at the hunter. The blast, almost the size of Gehrman himself soared towards Gehrman with tremendous speed, almost matching that of Gehrman’s art of quickening. Gehrman, completely unfazed by the attack, sheathed his Burial Blade and got into a riposte stance. The beam, now almost near its target, was suddenly sliced in two separate segments. These segments both went separate directions but did not hit their target. They did, however, hit the palace, leaving a huge hole were they had hit.
Sombra watched in shock as saw Gehrman still standing. His blade had been used to repel his attack and cut it in half. Not with one swing but rather he had been holding his blade vertically. “This is impossible,” Sombra said to himself. “You should have been incinerated. You should not have been able to pull something like that off! I am at the peak of my power!”
“Yes,” Gehrman replied, lowering his blade. “But one cannot rely on power alone. You need skill and brains to handle a power as great as you are praising yourself to have. Without the proper tools that power will only consume you.”
“You sound like you’ve had to deal with something like this yourself,” Sombra noted, shooting another blast at Gehrman, who, in return, sliced it in half.
“You have no idea,” Gehrman replied, dashing towards Sombra with incredible speed. Gehrman combined his trick weapon into its scythe form and jumped up, rotating his scythe so that its tip would be facing down. Gehrman’s scythe collided with the concrete, but had missed Sombra, who had simply teleported himself out of the way and behind Gehrman.
“Seriously, is that all you’ve got?” Sombra asked, rolling his eyes in amusement while powering up another, stronger spell. “I will destroy you!”
“Fine by me,” Gehrman replied, rolling underneath the blast and pushing himself up. “But you’ll have to be quicker,” he said, kicking Sombra in his side. “Your attacks are sloppy. Rethink your strategy, for if you continue to fire spells aimlessly at me you will not advance.”
“Are you mocking me?” Sombra asked, raising an eyebrow at Gehrman. “My slave was foolish enough to mock me too,” he said, quickly shifting his gaze to Gascoigne who laid there, motionless and bleeding out on the concrete streets of the Crystal Empire. “And there is the result.”
“He told you to hold your tongue, lest he cut it off,” Gehrman said, earning a nod from Sombra. “I will cut it out for him, then.” He said, tightening his grip around his Burial Blade. “What he has done cannot be forgiven. But I will finish what he started. By taking your life.”
“Taking my life?” Sombra repeated tauntingly. “Are you that straightforward? No heroic speech like my slave held? No wicked moves or weapons that could split the earth wide open? Where is your strength? I want a battle! Show me! Fight me!”
“You’re insane,” Gehrman said, shaking his head. “That power of yours has already begun to consume you. You’re a monster.”
Sombra smiled at the First Hunter wickedly, showing off his razor sharp canine like teeth. “My power will only grow. I will not stop until everypony kneels before me, trembling as I look down upon their fearful expressions. They will know the true meaning of fear, and as of this day my rule has begun. You are just a minor obstacle in my way.”
Sombra launched himself at Gehrman, not even wanting to use another magic attack to blast the hunter off his feet. No, he would kill him with his own hooves. Sink his teeth into his flesh if he had to. He was superior. He had always been superior. Stopping in his tracks and rotating his body so that his back legs faced Gehrman, Sombra bucked the hunter in his stomach, tumbling him backwards while he inhaled a deep breath. Seeing this was probably going to be his only opportunity to land a successful hit on his adversary, Sombra shot another, but this time more powerful blast of dark magic at the hunter.
Gehrman held a hand to his stomach while pushing himself up, only to be hit in his chest by a tremendous force that could rival he hit of one of the Bloodletting Beasts from the Old Labyrinths. He was sent flying into the castle, and dropped down when he hit one of the pillars. The force of Sombra’s attack was enough to knock all the air out of his lungs as he finally hit the ground with a loud thud. This made everyone who was still watching—albeit it a few to gasp in horror when they watched their former king march towards Gehrman.
“I pity you, you know,” Sombra said. Reaching German, the king towered over him, his menacing eyes looking down at the hunter with sheer anger. “I was hoping you would put up a fight.” Even though the look on his face gave away the meaning of his words, to another person it would have sound like he was actually disappointed with the First Hunter. “Even that idiot,” Sombra said, his eyes now filled with even more anger than they already were, “Gascoigne put up a better fight than you did. And he had his body thrown around like a flail, his bones broken, and his muscles teared to pieces. I expected much more from you.” Sombra spat at him.
“So did I.”
Sombra gasped as he suddenly felt something press against his front leg, looking down at his leg he realized that Gehrman was holding a weapon similar to that of Gascoigne, though this one was a lot bulkier and longer. A loud bang erupted from the weapon and Sombra screamed in excruciating pain as his leg was torn off to the bone. Sombra watched in absolute horror as his leg flew past him and landed a few feet behind him. Falling on his back, the king held his leg in agony, blood now staining his once clean coat, and deepening the already red color of his cape.
Gehrman slowly pushed himself off the concrete street and reloaded his Blunderbuss. Gehrman made his way over to Sombra and looked down at the king. “Looks like the roles are reversed,” he said, pointing the edge of his scythe a Sombra’s neck. “You’re a fool, Sombra, and you will die as one.”
Gehrman raised his scythe and slashed down at Sombra, only for Sombra to teleport away. Gehrman gritted his teeth in frustration, frantically looking around him to find Sombra. “A cowardly move, fleeing from battle even though you wanted to fight. Where is all that confidence of yours, king?!” Gehrman shouted, hoping that this would get Sombra to reveal himself.
It was then that Gehrman noticed something. A red substance was dropping down on his shoulder, staining it. Gehrman’s head shot up, and he was met with Sombra’s hoof colliding with his face. Gehrman held his face in pain as he dropped his Burial Blade. He shook his head and checked his hands to see if he was not bleeding. He gritted his teeth in anger and looked at Sombra, who was trotting—though it looked more like limping away from him, laughing manically to himself.
“We will meet again!” He laughed.
Gehrman was about to chase after him, but stopped when an axe soared passed his face. He watched as the axe flew towards Sombra in mid-air. Sombra, too busy laughing and admiring his Crystal Heart, which he had been holding onto throughout the duration of their fight, was oblivious to the world around him; the axe, still stained with the blood of Spike, Gascoigne, and even a few drops of Gehrman himself made impact with Sombra’s body. The axe, now stuck between Sombra’s spine and his muscles stopped in its tracks and Sombra, who had been running still, finally fell to the ground. Blood stained the concrete streets of the king’s former empire.
Sombra’s eyes widened as he felt the pain of the axe in his back. He felt so… he felt good, relieved for some reason. Closing his eyes, the king felt his body go numb. Sombra, the evil ruler of the Crystal Empire had been defeated. He could not believe it. After everything he had been through, everything he had planned… was it all for nothing?
He had been so calm and careful up until now. And even though his slave betrayed him, he still obtained his Crystal Heart… he should have been victorious. He should not have been defeated. But yet he was.
“I cannot believe I have been defeated,” Sombra said to himself, but due to the lack of strength and the loss of blood it came out more like a whisper. “I wanted it so bad… absolute power. I had it, but I was defeated nonetheless. I… am weak. I realize that now.” Sombra closed his eyes and let out a sigh of relief. “But at least I can rest now. Death… it feels like a weight has been lifted. Heh, you fought well, Gehrman.”
Gehrman watched as the king’s body stopped moving. Blood pouring out of the wound the axe had made. But it was at this moment Gehrman realized something.
There was only one man who wielded an axe. And he was supposed to be dead.
Gehrman quickly turned his head to look at Gascoigne. His body was in the same position as it was before. So was it really him who threw the axe? Or was it someone else?
Ignoring these questions that went through his head, he quickly made his way over to Sombra’s body, ready to retake the Crystal Heart and return it to Cadance. To put an end to all of this.