Digimon Inheritance: A Heroic Lion's Turbulent Times (Finished)

[] Then throw your head forward to smash against her nose. If Ardat leaves you have a feeling that she'll head after the Vamdemon, and you doubt she'll be lucky enough to survive twice.

=== Consequences coming in 3, 2, 1.

You flinch back from the evil-looking claws and loosen your arm, the terrified part of your mind pleading for you to just let go before she can make contact with your flesh. Another very angry portion of your unconsciousness shouts for it shut the heck up, and not back down from this. While you don't like Ardat, your wards do, and if she ran off to get herself killed by Vamdemon then they'd scared.

So with a desperate roar you reverse the direction of your head, turn slightly and smash your forehead straight into the Witchmon's nose. A sharp stab of pain erupts from the center of your forehead at the impact, but her feature crumples inwards with an audible *Crunch*. She may be tougher than you, but as of right now with your arm around her waist and the champion merely sitting up, you hold all the leverage. Ardat's upper body snaps backwards, and only stops as her skull impacts the ground. It's not enough to knock her out, not by a long shot, but you hope the blow is enough to bring your comrade back to her senses.

It's only a second thereafter that you realize that one her claws has managed to get through your fur and dig under your skin. For a fraction of a second the small pinprick of feeling is more of a tickle than anything else. You naively entertain a fleeting hope that it was a dud and you'll be fine. Then, in the space of a half-moment it leaps from mildly annoying to-OH SPIRITS THE PAIN!

You scream, dropping both of the champions and clutch at your neck as if it had just been lit on fire. Not that it ends up helping - whatever Ardat just did to you wasn't some sort of blaze. No it's something else, something much, much worse. Digital flesh, muscle and fur rots away from the dark unholy power she employed, as the miniscule amount of energy continues to spread. You can feel it, like ivy growing and wriggling under your skin, as it consumes you to make more of itself. The sound of your voice stops entirely, replaced with a strangled wheeze as the air just leaks out from your uncovered throat. Unfortunately it doesn't stop there. Ardat's power creeps up first to your chin, then climbs onto your face, stripping the flesh off the front of your skull. The scar on your face burns; fighting against the foreign power and preventing the weaker viral matter from taking hold.

For a moment your vision goes blurry as the attack reaches your good eye, then the red orb pulses once, and the creeping effect stops.

It takes a second to realize you're laying on your back, and another to realize the pain has for the most part at least subsided. Key word being "for the most part". You still feel terrible, just not like you're actually being deleted.

Spirits above! Wha-what the heck was that?!

Maneuvering back to stand on your hind legs, you look down towards your chest and wince upon seeing the exposed bones and data that is normally covered by skin and muscle. Everything below your collarbones and above your sternum has rotted away to the bone, though thankfully it didn't go deeper than that, if it had reached your core...

You wince, or at least, you try to wince - for some reason your face refuses to move in order to make the gesture. Throbbing pain clings to the edges of your eyes, forehead and chest, and you try not to think about what that means.

Ardat bounds to her feet from where you'd dropped her, a tiny gash right cheek from where your nose had made contact with her skin. The snarling Witchmon looks like she's about to curse at you, then her visible eye widens in abject horror, her cheeks turning a sickly green. You take a second to turn back just in case Ogremon or some other digimon was standing behind you. Only to find empty air, and the pocket of trees.

"Lord above, what did I-"

Turning back towards the feminine champion, you make ready to level your best glare at her-then blink in surprise as Ardat drops to her hands and knees, before beginning to vomit chunks of Travel Bread onto her claws.

What?

More air leaks out your throat with a strange hiss, and for a few seconds you feel like trying to investigate what by the Ten Legendary Warriors had happened, but the sight of Sparks on the ground makes you remember your priorities. Leaving Ardat to her sudden sickness (which is better than a suicidal attack on an ultimate, at least), you scramble over towards Sparks and use a paw to roll him over. Trying to say his name is a pointless endeavor, as with the front of your throat missing in action, all the air you're trying to breathe in or out just kind of leaks out before it can go anywhere useful.

Darnit… Sorry about this Sparks.

Tentatively you bring a paw up, straighten your digits as to prevent an accidental stabbing and bring it straight down into the center of his chest with a loud *thump*. Your crippled friend's reaction is immediate as he lets out a cry that sounds half-terrified and half berserk and lifts his staff to launch a ball of electricity straight into the sky. Judging by the position, you're pretty sure it was meant for Count when he first arrived but was only stopped because of… whatever it was that froze him.

Life flows back into Sparks reflective eyes again, and he sits up wildly looking around.

"Verge what happen-" The Wizardmon's eyes lock onto your face and widen in sudden primal fear as he cringes back away from you. "Oh Spirits, Verge, you-!"

Yes?

You put your hands across your neck to try and prevent some air from escaping and let out a grunt.

"Thine face, it's..." The one armed Wizardmon swallows once, then his eyes grow still, locking onto something down and behind you. "...'tis a matter to discuss later. Is thine life in mortal danger?"

My face? What's wrong with my face?

You try to frown, then upon realizing that your mouth muscles don't want to respond to that either just shake your head back.

"Then I moveth on to matters of vengeance!" Sparks leaps to his feet; zeroes in on DarkLizardmon and unleashes a blast of azure lightning towards the dark fire elemental. The enemy champion so occupied keeping out of the MailDramon's reach that it is too busy to notice the attack until it's already tearing into his shoulder. Given the way he'd shrugged off Gramps' attacks back then, for a moment you're utterly sure that Count's servant won't even be harmed. Which is why it's so surprising when the spell tears a hole straight through the champions dark body.

DarkLizardmon unleashes a screech of pain, and stumbles to the side; turning what would have been a leaping dodge into short, rather pathetic hop. Maildramon's heavy form slams into the reeling champion a moment later. Your very angry comrade tackles the enemy champion across the valley, eventually slamming him to ground.

Sparks tries to line up another shot, but the massive Dramon's bulk prevents him from actually getting a bead on his hated foe. The spellcaster let's out an angry growl and lowers his focus with a curse.

At least uh, Maildramon is winning now?

"Ah crud, look out!" The Witchmon yanks on your friends cape and pulls him out of the way just before the limp serpentine form of a champion crashes down on the spot he'd been occupying.

What the-

You throw a glance towards the aerial combat again and have to fight back the urge to swallow nervously. Mostly because without the front portion of your neck, you have no idea what type of pain that might cause your already aching wounds.

Up above, Angemon and newly arrived white Devimon are locked in combat, with the former seeming to be on his last legs. The six-winged angel appears to be on the defensive (based on what little you can make out from the fight given the distance and their speed) and you have a feeling that he's not going to last much longer based on the many wounds opening up on his body. His opponent isn't exactly in the best shape either, likely from having to take on two champions by himself, but you have no doubt who's actually going to win that particular engagement.

To make things worse, a second later the blurry form of Beat comes flying up the hill, his armor cracked in half a dozen places. Ogremon follows him up, his club a swirling blur as it tries to follow the Stingmon's movements. Beat does seem a bit slower now, but you don't think your ally's speed has dropped dramatically like in his fight against Scratch. His opponent, though slower, is just predicting where the insect digimon will move and adjusting his strikes accordingly to land glancing blows.

"Greater Sparkling Thun-" Your old friend's spell is cut off as the dark projection of a fist smashes into his staff, splintering the focus before slamming into his chest. The one armed Wizardmon is sent flying back across the hill, but is stopped short as his back smashes into a tree.

Sparks!

You rush towards the pocket of trees, healing spell on your lips, but all that amounts to is a flash of strained pain in your skull and your jaw opening then shutting with a strange *clacking* sound.

Upon reaching your friend, you're relieved to find that the humanoid champion isn't in the midst of fading away. The attack has knocked him out for sure and seems to have hurt him rather badly, but you don't think he's in danger of deletion. The fear and anger that had been rising up in your core slowly begins to fade away, replaced by relief and exhaustion, which you try to shove away considering things are if anything going to get worse from here.

The angry cry of Ardat directs you back towards the nearby fight. She charges into the melee, claws open wide, and pounces at the muscle-bound servant of Count. The magical digimon is faster than you'd given her credit for, and actually manages to contribute to the blur of motion taking place. Her flurry of rending claw strikes tear long, shallow strips of flesh from the larger champion's back, and force him to turn in order to defend himself effectively.

With the constant assault against him gone, the Stingmon receives a moment to get his bearing back. Beat pauses once to glance in your direction, does what almost looks like a flinch, then jumps back into battle.

Even now that he's outnumbered two to one, the Ogremon's happy grin never vanishes. He somehow manages to block, dodge and parry most of it, but is forced to prioritize the insect digimon's more lethal strikes, which means letting a number of Ardat's strikes land.

You're almost disappointed but the fact that whatever effect her hands had on you don't show up on the brutish champions flesh. After watching intently, It soon becomes clear to you that Ogremon is in a losing battle. It might take another minute or two, but the green humanoid is clearly going to lose if this keeps up.

"Out of the way the way, dumbasses!" Angewomon's strained voice screams down, causing the melee breaks apart. The three champions back off just in time to avoid being hit by the charred, almost unbelievably battered form of NeoDevimon. The masked Ultimate's left hand twitches a little in front of Ogremon, showing that it is still alive, if only barely. Beat takes a step towards the critically wounded Ultimate ready to finish off, but pauses as your ally's voice shouts again "Not another step, idiot!"

You turn to glance towards the sound of the voice, then have to do a double-take as Angewomon descends. She is… not exactly in the best state either.

Oh that is…she looks... Awful!

The feminine angel is bleeding mounds of data from what you count to be eighty-three wounds; wounds that seem to inhabit every part of her body. Some, like the laceration on her right ankle, are shallow but for the most part her wounds look terrifically deep. You're surprised that she's still able to fly, much less still be in fighting shape. Even the front left half her helmet has been broken off, revealing a glaring green eye. Despite the tattered state of her body the Ultimate projects an aura of strength and confidence, one that your enemies can see. As a side note, you notice Angewomon's remaining scraps of clothing somehow stay covering the more tactical parts, clinging almost defiantly to her form like they'd been stuck there with some sort of epoxy.

A sense of happy relief flutters out from your core, as you realize that you now have an Ultimate fighting on your side!

"MailDramon, Angemon! Get the fuck over here now!" The pale Devimon flying above narrows its eyes, but lets the nearly defeated champion go. A moment later he's joined by the massive armored Dramon as they fly to the Ultimate's side. Angewomon settles down on the ground, lifting her bow to point it at the nearest enemy, which in this case proves to be Ogremon. You ready yourself, eager to watch him be blasted apart, only to be surprised as she starts speaking up. "All of you bloody Gloaming soldiers can either get out of my sight now, or take one of my stupid arrows to the face!"

What?! She's letting them go!

The white Devimon and Ogremon look at each other, eye the extremely wounded female angel again, then nod in acceptance.

"Gehehe, is this what they call God's mercy?" The leaking green champion cackles to himself, grabbing one of the NeoDevimon's golden claws and pulling him up onto his shoulder. You glare at the retreating champion, and are joined by Beat. A few steps later he looks back towards the angel and winks, his long tongue moving out to lick his lips. "I'm really going to enjoy beating you down one day!" Angewomon glares harder and a speck of light appears in the center of her winged weapon. You glance at her again, then stare in surprise as her legs begin to wobble.

The white Devimon lunges down, sweeping the club-wielding champion and Ultimate digimon up, and then soars away. Soon they're all out of sight.

She waits in place, bow up for another thirty seconds, before the light on her weapon fizzles out, and the Ultimate collapses backwards.

"Hehehehahahaha!" Angewomon wheezes, in strained laughter her revealed eye closing in relief. "Those morons really fell for it!"

Fell for it? What?! What did they fall for!

You try to scream the question, but all that comes out is a pained wheeze.

The squad leader's wobbly left hand reaches towards her back, and she's forced to stretch out her torn up wings in order to retrieve another grey flask. Halfway through fumbling her way towards opening the container, she drops it with a frustrated snarl, then glares as the contents begin spilling out onto the hill.

"Angemon, where in the Dark Zone is Exveemon?" She spits angrily, grabbing the flask and bringing the tip to her mouth.

"I'm sorry ma'am. That Gloaming scum Count took him from this world."

"...Fuck." The angel swears after removing the flasks tip from her lips "This entire thing was Daemonshit, the reinforcements weren't supposed to come for another Lord Damned day!"

"Angewomon!"

"Ah shove it!" She snaps, redirecting her glare on him. "I just saved your holier-than-thou ass so shut up about that stuff." With that she screws the cap back on, reaches behind her back once again and pulls out a healing disc. She crushes it in one hand, then sighs in relief as the ensuing ripple effect begins to repair her clothes and lessen the leaking data on her body to something a bit less life-threatening

The Angel frowns down at his superior, then turns away, grumbling something under his breath. He strides over to check on Pidmon, and after examining the unconscious two-winged champion for a few seconds then gives a sigh of relief upon realizing that he's just knocked out.

"Any of you know who the bloody heck that Mistymon is?" Angewomon questions, looking towards Beat and Ardat. "Or why he's trying to drive that Vamdemon towards the fortress?" The Stingmon just continues glaring at her, but the guilty, slumping Witchmon puffs out her chest and forces a grin onto her face.

"That is the Illustrious and powerful master of erm, physical? Yes, physical sorcery, Sergeant Scratch!" She chirps before muttering something that causes a gust of wind to carry her broom up from valley and back to her hand. "Yes, Gladimon was not in fact his final form! For you see, he has mastered the ancient and special art of-" she continues on praising Scratch for another ninety-five seconds before finally quieting down.

Angewomon's visible eye widens at the news in clear shock, then closes as a pained expression alights on her face. The palm right hand moves up to cover the unarmored section. You're not absolutely sure of it, but you'd guess that the angel digimon is thinking back on how she'd treated him earlier, just with this new context in mind. It takes her another twenty-six seconds to speak up again.

"...Fuck."

You try to hold back a laugh, fail, and emit a small wheeze of air from your eroded throat.

=== Choose One:

[] Try to ask Angewomon about what happened, and maybe if she has another healing disk she could give you. Though you're not sure how successful it would be with...whatever this is.

[] Try to go wake up Pidmon so he can heal Sparks, and yourself of course. Whatever Ardat did still hurts, and you're out of energy.

[] Try to find a reflective surface so you can find out exactly what happened from Ardat's attack. Now that the fighting is mostly over, you're morbidly curious.

[] Try to comfort Ardat? You don't really know why the idea popped into your head, or why part of your mind is pushing you do it, but for some reason it seems like a good idea.

===

Authors Note: Damn that was a big one! This shouldn't be another permanent scar for Verge, but it will need some more powerful healing than the norm. Hehe. No, normal Witchmon don't have this specific power. Scratch's squad is whack yo!

DarkLizardmon's fate has been left intentionally vague.

The next update is going to have something...special. Hehe, you'll see eventually!