A lance of fury tore through the ashen air by mere seconds. Its blazing arc aimed squarely at Malum. The impact came instantly as the blade of infernal fire clashed with a shrill, agonizing screech, sparks erupting upon contact. From the force alone, he was forced to skid across the scorched ground as he absorbed the impact, teeth bared in defiance as his gaze snapped up to meet Moloch's. Yet, the Gatekeeper did not falter at the slight.
Once more, Moloch surged forward, towering and relentless, its lance carving incandescent trails through the air. Malum was in a predicament, parrying the attacks. He staggered back, abyssal blood slipping freely now, unseen yet undeniable as it soaked into his darkly regal attire. Hand once again pressed firmly against his stomach, fingers slick and trembling. The wound burned—no, it seared—each movement tearing his flesh wider, draining him further.
"Stop, Moloch!"
Malum snarled, breath uneven but voice sharp with irritation rather than fear.
"I'm not here to entertain you anymore. I need to return."
Moloch halted on his steps, with a thunderous crack, the butt of its lance struck the blackened land, sending cracks outward through the hellish soil. The heat intensified as Moloch straightened, its massive form radiating dominance. Its expression—if such a thing could be named—grew darker, the ever-present scowl deepening into something colder, more resolute.
"You barge through my gate and expect release?"
Moloch intoned, its voice reverberating through the infernal plains. Its lance tilted slightly, flames licking higher along its shaft.
"You should have thought twice before stepping into Hell again. Do not presume Iblis will be able to pull you free a second time."
Malum grunted as a sharp tremor of pain ripped through his lower abdomen. His body slumped forward despite his will, black shoulder-length hair falling across his face. He stabbed the tip of his blade into the scorched earth, leaning heavily upon it for support. The agony pulsed more evidently—Moloch's weapon was forged from Hell's own fire, and the wounds inflicted were never content to bleed merely. It burns, lingers, and punishes.
Malum inhaled sharply, steadying himself with a soft grunt.
Escape. He had to escape. He needed to return to the human world. His fingers clenched tight, white-knuckled, gripping tight around the hilt of his blade even as exhaustion crept into his limbs. Fury burned behind his scrutiny—not wild, but intense focus, annoyed and insulted. All of this, just to reclaim his vessel.
"That bastard."
Malum muttered under his breath, venom lacing every syllable as to remember Iblis once again.
"I'll make him pay for this."
His hatred was justified. He had fallen for Iblis's trick once before—cast into Hell under the guise of amusement, a 'joke' from a sinner who found delight in chaos. Now, Malum was convinced Iblis is indeed the mastermind behind the disappearance of his vessel. Stealing her and dragging her soul into the wretched domain. Whether truth or assumption mattered little. The result was the same.
"No matter how formidable you are in the human world, Karita, you hold no power here."
Moloch declared, lifting its lance once more as Malum's lips twitched with a scoff.
Moloch was correct. Here, Malum was outmatched. Every inch of the Gatekeeper radiated authority, an unyielding presence that left no visible opening, no obvious path for escape. Worse still, Hell itself seemed to conspire against him—its shifting landscape offering no familiar exit.
Only three beings possessed the authority to open a portal directly from this realm: Ezrael, Moloch, and Iblis. And Malum was none of them.
He would not deny his inferiority. Yet his pride—ancient and unbroken—refused surrender. This was not a defeat, merely a setback. Temporary. Everything had a solution, even this.
For now, he needed to survive.
"I will not let you leave Hell."
Moloch thundered, stepping forward as the very ground recoiled beneath its weight.
"I shall put you down where you belong."
The declaration shook the fiery depths themselves. Lost souls shuddered as the air trembled in reverence and fear of Moloch's authority. Malum, however, did not flinch the slightest. Instead, he grinned.
Wide. Unsettling. Enlightened.
The expression sent a ripple of unease through Moloch's vigilance. It knew that look. It had seen it before—on beings who had already chosen their path, regardless of consequence.
"I will not allow you to scheme against me, Karita!"
Moloch roared, without further delay, it lunged. The lance swept sideways in a devastating arc before driving forward, aimed to impale. Malum reacted as expected—abyssal blade raised across his body, stance defensive, ready to parry. The clash was inevitable.
"You cannot defeat me!"
Moloch proclaimed, yet he knew this was true. He had always known. He could not defeat the Gatekeeper of Hell. But he also knows of something else. A truth buried deep beneath layers of divine hierarchy and infernal law—a weakness shared by all who served under Him.
In the final split second, as Moloch's lance met his guard, Malum did not resist. His blade dissipated. The abyssal steel unraveled into shadow and smoke, vanishing entirely as Malum stood exposed, accepting the fatal blow. The lance pierced through him, fire roaring in triumph—and Moloch faltered.
Shock flickered across its stern visage, a rare crack in its composure. This was not resistance. This was not desperation. This was a surrender, and Moloch knew well that the pride and arrogance of Malum reflects of that the Tempter, himself, mirrors each other.
Malum's outward look was not that of defeat. Even as his body was struck down, abyssal blood spilling freely, he wore that same eerie, exalted smile. Calm. Certain. As though death itself was merely another step in a larger design.
Moloch tightened its grip on the lance, unease stirring for the first time in eons.
Why would Karita smile… at the moment of his demise?
Their gazes, unwavering, baring teeth. Yet again, as still exuding defiance even in death, flaring in his eyes reflected the fiery blaze of hell itself. It seems like Malum's end was not as simple as it seems.