Sierra had almost reached the top step of the stairs. She stopped a moment to catch her breath and took a look down the humongous spiral staircase. The floor below was unable to be seen from her current vantage point and Sierra silently thanked the fates that she didn't trip and fall all the way down what must have been at least seven hundred feet.

Sierra stopped and held her breath suddenly as she heard a brief footstep from above. Someone was waiting for her. . .and she would be ready.

The footstep's owner seemed to have realized the mistake made and was suddenly very silent. But it was too late. Sierra now knew that her next foe stood only a few meters away. She readied her scythe while being sure not to follow her instinct and enchant it with an Astral Vine.

Sierra charged. As she came over the top of the stairs she saw a woman wearing the green uniform of Greenhell and wielding a double-headed spear await her. The assassin twirled her spear threateningly and met with Sierra's assault.

The scythe and spear clashed together loudly but no damage was done to either weapon. The assassin brought the back end of the spear around in alignment with Sierra's ankles in an attempt to trip her, but Sierra leapt in time to dodge, and while in the air kicked the assassin back a few steps.

Sierra feigned a vertical slice, but as the assassin positioned her spear to block, Sierra changed tactics and used the end of the scythe to smack the assassin in the side.

The assassin stepped back a few more paces and made no attempt to counter Sierra's last move. Sierra tried a few more attacks, they were all either blocked or did little damage, but what surprised Sierra was that her foe never attacked back.

"What's the matter?" Sierra asked, "Come on! It's no fun to defeat a foe who won't fight back!"

"I made a promise that I wouldn't kill you yet," the assassin answered.

"Oh? To whom?"

"To me," a voice came from behind Sierra. She turned around to see the black priest standing a few paces behind her.

"What? Where'd you come from?" Sierra asked confused as to how he could've come up behind her without her noticing.

Sierra swung her scythe in perfect alignment to decapitate the priest, but the priest lifted his hand to block the blade. Sierra couldn't help but to chuckle at how stupid this priest was. His hand wouldn't stop a scythe at full speed. The only thing that blocking with his hand would do would be to make him lose a hand as well as his head. However, to Sierra absolute amazement, the scythe suddenly stopped as it made contact with the priest's hand.

"How on earth?" Sierra gasped. The priest's hand was completely unscratched after stopping the scythe.

The black priest opened his eyes to stare evilly at Sierra. His slitted eyes seemed to bore in on Sierra's soul.

"How did you-?" Sierra stuttered.

As the black priest smiled cruelly he raised his other hand and held his index finger in front of his lips as if to imply quietness.

"Sore wa himitsu desu,"

Before Sierra could respond to the odd comment, the priest placed his hand on Sierra's shoulder. His smile widened and Sierra suddenly felt an amazing force pushing against her body like a hurricane force wind. Seeming to completely disregard the heavy plate mail that she was wearing, the sudden force threw Sierra backwards incredibly violently. The assassin and leader of Greenhell, who until now was watching the scene with just as much amazement as Sierra, leapt aside just in time to avoid having Sierra collide with her.

Sierra landed a few feet from the wall. She was about to stand up again but another unknown force seemed to drain her of her will to fight. She slumped down in a sitting position feeling oddly defeated.

The black priest walked over to where Sierra now sat, chuckling to himself.

"Very enjoyable," he commented, "Too bad I'm in a hurry and don't have the time to toy with you before I end your life."

"Damn! I can't let it end like this!" Sierra said as she attempted to will herself to stand, but failed.

The black priest stopped a pace away from Sierra and raised his hand as if to show her what he held. Sierra saw a sphere of black and red gases swirling in his hand and didn't doubt that whatever foul magic it was could kill her easily.

"There's only one thing I'm going to regret about killing you, Sierra," the black priest informed her, "It was so much fun killing your family, but seeing as you have yet to procreate, there will be no child of yours that I can kill. What a pity. I so love keeping these things in the family."

"Wait!" Sierra gasped, "You knew my family?"

"Of course!" the black priest replied, "I killed your grandfather, I killed your mother, and I killed your father. Unfortunately I wasn't able to kill your grandmother, but I suppose that really doesn't matter now."

"How can that be? You don't look a day older than 30!"

"How foolish! You humans always think so simply! Just because I look young doesn't mean anything,"

"You. . .you're not human. What are you?"

The black priest laughed aloud. "Couldn't you tell by now? I'm what you have never seen before, yet because of your religion you dedicate your life and soul to the slaying of my people."

"You! You're. . .a Mazoku!"

"How right you are, my pretty one. But idle chatter makes for idle minds. Let us end this now," the Mazoku priest slowly moved his hand as if to brush Sierra's cheek. The black and red gases in his hand swirled hungrily as they approached Sierra's horrified features. But then suddenly the priest's hand stopped.

Sierra didn't understand why at first, but then when she saw the blade of a katana protruding through the priest's stomach she understood. The katana blade retracted from the priest's stomach. The priest coughed once; the blood from his mouth forming a black gas before it hit the ground.

Toshi stepped back a few paces holding his katana in a ready position waiting for the Mazoku priest's response.

"My, my," the black priest turned around to face Toshi and commented slowly while holding a hand over the slit running from his back to stomach, "I must admit, you surprised me with that one. . .old friend. . ."

"Old friend?" Toshi asked, "I think not. I had hoped our paths would never again cross, but I suppose it cannot be helped. I can't allow you to kill this woman."

"What? Toshi? You know him?" Sierra asked bewildered. Even more surprising about Toshi's sudden appearance and his relation to the Mazoku foe was that Toshi's hair and eyes were now silver instead of their normal respective black and green.

"Indeed," Toshi answered while staring at the Mazoku priest with a sadistic glare.

"Do you really think the outcome will be different this time?" the black priest asked Toshi, "The last time we fought, I killed you. What makes this time any different?"

"You didn't kill me directly. I survived for a week after our fight, then I died of wounds,"

"It doesn't matter. I still get the credit for your death and that's all I care about," the black priest raised his hand that previously held the black and red gases. A ruby-headed staff seemed to form out of the air in his grasp. There was a creaking and cracking sound as the wood of the staff shape-shifted and a long blade appeared along the edge of the staff.

"You really look down on me so much that you choose to fight in hand to hand?" Toshi asked.

"If anything, you're weaker than before so I'll go easy on you. Now then, you wish for a rematch? Very well. Let's make the score two for nothing," the Mazoku priest commented as he suddenly faded and vanished from sight.

The priest suddenly reappeared behind Toshi and swung his now-bladed staff in a horizontal slash. Toshi ducked underneath it and attacked back, but the priest had already disappeared again. He reappeared right above Toshi and half-heartedly kicked his head before disappearing again.

Toshi rubbed the back of his head. "You're not taking this seriously,"

"Most things I don't take seriously," the black priest commented and he again reappeared, attacked, and disappeared. Toshi parried the priest's attack and readied himself for where he predicted his foe would next appear.

The black priest appeared where Toshi predicted and a quick slash from his katana left the black priest without a left hand.

The priest stopped for a moment while levitating a few feet off the ground. He looked down at his left wrist. "Well, that wasn't very nice. You know, for some reason it seems that whenever someone causes me an injury they always do so to part of my arm. I wonder why that is. . ."

Immediately after finishing his comment the priest's hand regrew. He flexed his fingers for a moment. "It's a new little trick I learned over the years. It used to take me days to regenerate a limb, but now I can do it in a matter of seconds."

Toshi leapt and slashed again only to strike thin air as the priest again teleported. The Mazoku appeared to Toshi's left side and slashed at him with the staff. Toshi lifted his left arm to block it and for his efforts received a nasty gash running from his elbow to wrist. Despite the garish wound and the blood soaked sleeve Toshi seemed to ignore any pain he might be feeling and continued the deadly dance of predicting where the Mazoku would appear and attempting to stay one step ahead of his foe.

Sierra was able to stand now and all she could do was watch in absolute amazement. A Mazoku had appeared before her. A real Mazoku. She had always believed the tales and legends about these demons that desired nothing more than pain and destruction, but to actually see one and how one fought was almost traumatic. The deadly dance that the black priest and Toshi now locked themselves in was constantly becoming faster and faster. The priest even when visible now appeared to be no more than a blur, and how Toshi managed to keep up with him was beyond Sierra.

Kleo who until now had also stood by watching in amazement walked over to Sierra. "That's not Toshi,"

"What?" Sierra asked.

"It's not. There's something weird going on. That is not the Toshi we know,"

Indeed Toshi seemed to be oddly obsessed with his duel. He was covered in bleeding slashes but he seemed to completely ignore any sensation of pain and kept fighting with amazing speed.

The Greenhell leader made one last comment to Kleo and Sierra before leaving. "Look, let's forget about before, okay? Something's up here and if we want to live we've got to leave now. I don't know about you two, but I'm gone," with that the assassin began running down the stairwell out of sight, but Kleo and Sierra stayed to watch Toshi with worry and amazement.

The Mazoku priest stopped his assault suddenly and levitated a few paces away from Toshi. "Come on. This is no fun. You're nowhere near as good as you were a century ago.

Toshi was panting heavily and looked as though he was about to collapse. "You may well kill me again, but I'll make sure that my death is not in vain. Sierra! Kleo! Keep going up to the top of the tower! There's not much time! Hurry!"

"Shut up!" the black priest commanded, rather agitated that Toshi intended to target something that, unlike himself, could actually be damaged. The priest swung his staff and it connected solidly with Toshi's jaw, sending him spiraling down to the floor.

"Toshi!" Sierra gasped.

"Come on! Let's go, Sierra! He told us to!" Kleo yelled at her companion while tugging her arm, "Come on! Upstairs!"

"But. . .but. . .Toshi. . ."

"Let's go, Sierra!"

The black priest raised his bladed staff for the finishing blow. "It's too bad I didn't have more time to toy with you, but I suppose duty always comes before pleasure,"

"You stupid demon," Toshi muttered between coughs of blood, "You let your guard down."

"What?" the Mazoku asked surprised.

"Zelas Bleed!" the black magical energy leapt from Toshi's extended hand and struck the black priest with a force that doubtlessly would've killed any man. As it so happened, for this demon, he was only knocked back a few meters and fell to the floor.

The black priest got back up to his feet, infuriated. He seemed as though he was about to punish Toshi for such an action but then he noticed that both Sierra and Kleo were already gone.

"I'll come back for you," the Mazoku muttered as he teleported off.

"You do that," Toshi commented more to himself than anyone else. With considerable effort, he stood up.

"There's always one advantage for my type to defile ourselves with black magic," he commented as he watched the slashes and wounds all over his body slowly, but visibly, repair themselves.