The cathedral trembled with the weight of the battle. Steel met bone. Flesh met plague. The air reeked of necrotic rot, Kruger's men succumbing to the suffocating disease before even reaching the altar.
Selene Nocturna stood poised, watching the carnage unfold. Her lips curled in amusement, the stitched gash across her cheek stretching with her smirk.
Kruger was relentless. His blade, engraved with ancient runes, cut through her risen followers with divine fury. Yet, no matter how many he felled, more staggered to their feet, crawling, clawing, whispering curses from mouths without tongues.
"You fight with such conviction," Selene mused, stepping down from her throne of skulls. Her fingers idly traced the vials hanging from her bodice—glass tubes filled with unholy concoctions. One in particular—a sickly green liquid that pulsed like a living heart—caught her attention.
Kruger locked eyes with her, his chest rising and falling heavily.
"End this, Selene!" he barked. His voice was hoarse, worn from war and loss.
Selene tilted her head, her silver-white hair shifting beneath her hood.
"Oh, Kruger..." she purred, stepping forward. Her movements were slow, deliberate, calculated. "You still believe this war has an ending?"
Kruger lunged, his blade flashing in the dim torchlight—but Selene was faster.
With a flick of her wrist, she crushed the vial in her palm. A thick mist burst forth, spreading like veins of poison. Kruger reeled back, shielding his face, but it was too late.
The plague had already slithered into his lungs.
He staggered, coughing violently, his strength wavering.
Selene sighed, stepping closer.
"This," she whispered, running her blackened nails along his jawline, "is the oath of the virulent."
Kruger dropped to one knee, his breathing ragged. His veins blackened, spreading the corruption through his body.
Selene crouched before him, her golden eyes glowing with cruel delight.
"I wonder... will your god save you now?"
Kruger's grip tightened around his sword, his vision blurring. But through the haze, he saw it—Selene's bare wrist, exposed just long enough.
With a final roar, he lashed out, his blade carving deep into her flesh.
Selene hissed, jerking back, black ichor spilling from the wound.
For the first time, her laughter faltered.
Kruger smiled through bloodied teeth. "We both bleed, Nocturna."
Selene clutched her wrist, the wound already stitching itself closed. Her golden eyes darkened.
"Then let us see who bleeds last."