"Sis, where are we going?" Göll asked. She could barely keep up with her sister's stride. Brunhilde said nothing, continuing her trek.
The two made their way towards a stretch of Valhalla where the souls of deceased humans lived. Not nearly as lavish as the home of the gods, yet perfect for those continuing to hone their skills and knowledge. Each soul had their custom-made room to give each one a sense of familiarity. One such room was where Brunhilde and Göll stopped; its massive wooden door embedded with a large egg, bizarre symbols around it in a triangular formation.
"Here, Göll. Behind these doors rests the man who will lead our counter-attack. When fighting poison, you use a cure. When fighting a god of toxicity and madness, you need a doctor who has fought it in a way no one has done before. A doctor who revolutionized medicine to this very day and beyond." Brunhilde pushed the door open and walked in.
Göll was in awe. The entire room from the high ceiling to the floor was filled with shelves of glass containers, tables covered in more bizarre glass containers and tubes, metal tools, burners, and scattered papers. On the walls were several blackboards covered in chalk-written formulas and notes. As she stared up at the ceiling, Göll saw several stars and the moon painted on the ceiling shining down with a faint glow, and could see Scorpio and Orion among them.
Brunhilde left her to observe the room and walked over to a hunched-over man measuring mixtures in flasks on the left side of the room. The man put down one of the flasks, grabbed a quill, and wrote something in an old book to his right. Standing a few feet away from him, she lightly clapped her hands. The man stopped writing, emptied his hands of the flask and quill, and turned to meet her. His auburn hair hanging around his shoulders and his brown eyes staring intensely at Brunhilde. His clothes were modest: a white camisa shirt under a brown sleeveless doublet. His hose were a deep black with matching black leather shoes. A single gold chain rested around his neck with an emblem resembling his door's design hanging on it.
"Brunhilde! What a surprise to see you so early!" The man said, full of joy. "Are you here for your sister?"
Philippus Aureolus Theophrastus Bombastus von Hohenheim
A.K.A
Paracelsus
(Sweden)
"I'm afraid not. I'm here to inform you that you're going first, and your opponent will be Dionysus. Göll will lead you to the arena." Brunhilde said while giving a weak smile.
"I see," Hohenheim replied. "Didn't think you had so much faith in me! Guess I should get started then, eh?"
"Please do."
Göll observed her sister and her conversation with Hohenheim. Other than interacting with the gods, Brunhilde never acted so respectfully and deferentially to someone.
"Already have. Dr. Mist, if you would be so kind?" From above them, a young woman floated down and landed gently next to Hohenheim. She wore light blue robes and her pale blonde hair in braids over her shoulders. Her horn-rimmed glasses rested gently on the bridge of her nose; her piercing blue eyes aimed right at Hohenheim. She stood just a few inches shorter than her older Sister.
Mist
(8th Sister of the Valkyries)
"All ready, Hohenheim. The last of the prescriptions was finished. Do you need anything else?" Mist responded in a soft tone.
"Mist, it's time." Mist's expression did not change.
"Who's the patient?" Mist responded while adjusting her glasses.
"The Greek god, Dionysus. Based on his records, this will be a nasty one, so we need to start making contingencies."
"Already on it."
Hohenheim puffed out his chest and smiled widely. "Mist, you're a spectacular soul, you know that?"
"Of course," Mist responded without a change in expression. However, her cheeks changed to a slight red tone.
She was never good at admitting she loved being praised. Göll thought. Guess she and Reginleif are more alike than they want to admit.
"Mist, you aid me in curing the sick and continuing to advance medicine. I need your help now more than ever. Will you work alongside me now with our most important patient?" Hohenheim moved to gently grasp Mist's hands with his own. Their gaze met.
"You'd be lost without me otherwise." She answered, smiling. Bright light enveloped Mist, turning her into energy. The energy began to envelope Hohenheim's body.
VÖLUND!
Cloak of the Poison Master
The light dissipated, revealing a simple black cloak enveloping Hohenheim. Thick black gloves covered his hands and the sleeves of his cloak, while a sharp-beaked plague mask covered his face. Tinted lenses covered his eyes, and a large brown belt lined with pouches sat on his waist. In his right hand, an ornate wooden staff appeared, its pommel black with gold decorations and its tip fanned out like wings. At the tip rested a red gemstone below a white point.
"Brunhilde, we're ready. Please lead us to the operating room… and our next patient."
Far away from Hohenheim's lab and among the upper levels of Valhalla, Set found himself stuck in a frustrating situation. In front of him was his first Fighter, fast asleep, sprawled out on the floor of his chambers while surrounded by empty goblets and bottles. The god wore a wine-stained toga, his unkempt pale brown hair, beard, and moustache sticking out in multiple directions.
Dionysus
(Greek Pantheon)
He tried yelling earlier to rouse Dionysus but he failed. He could hit him, but knew if word got out, he struck Dionysus, he may have to deal with Zeus.
As he paced across the room, an idea came to him. He grabbed an empty goblet and walked over to a fountain in the room and filled it with fresh water. With the goblet full, Set walked over and quickly turned the goblet over on Dionysus' face. He quickly woke up, coughing and gasping.
"What the hell!?" Dionysus screamed. He quickly wiped the water from his face, his blood-red eyes darting around to find the assailant who had woken him from his bender. Set roughly cleared his throat, and Dionysus turned to him. His enraged face quickly turned to fear. "Oh no."
"Oh, yes," Set responded. The contempt in his voice was palpable. "Guess who's going first?"
"Please not me."
"Yes. You will be the first of Heaven's mightiest to strike down mankind's last hope. Now get up and make yourself presentable. Your match is about to start." Set stepped back to give Dionysus room to collect himself. "You are of the Olympian Twelve after all; some of the mightiest gods in Valhalla. No human will be able to match you, but that demands you carry and present yourself commendably."
"I don't want to do this. I'm not a fighter. I just sit around, party, or drink."
"Sometimes all of the above, and I'm well aware of your pastimes."
"You could've picked anyone else, so why me?"
"Getting to the point, I see." Set walked over and placed his hands on Dionysus' shoulders. The god trembled under them. Must be a hangover. "I could have. I could've picked your sister. She's a better strategist and the warrior most think Ares should be. Your brother Ares is a fool but strong. Hermes…" Set tensed for a moment but relaxed "...is off-limits to me. Hephaestus signed up immediately. Your friend Apollo is a nutcase but also unmatched in countless fields and Artemis wants absolutely nothing to do with me. Alas, none of the other Greeks agreed to sign on, so that leaves you," Set sighed. "You." Set's aura began to leak out as he gave two light slaps to Dionysus' face. "The drunk baby-of-the-bunch who's too afraid of his power and the responsibility that comes with it." The aura began to recede. "Are you going to accept that?"
"What?" Dionysus responded confused. Set let go of Dionysus and began to pace around the room.
"Everyone looks down on you and sees you as an embarrassment and a waste of potential. I mean, you kind of are, but you possess power beyond many of the gods. You are a son of Zeus and a champion of the Titanomachy! Many would die for your position and prestige!"
"They can have it if they want it so badly." Set appeared before him, barely an inch from Dionysus' face, the nose of his mask a hair's width from Dionysus' own.
"It is your birthright. Your blessing. Terrifying, yes, but your blessing. The opportunity that so many want, and you would toss it away? Madness. Just admit you're scared. It's not that you're weak; you're terrified of proving you're the disappointment they think you are, right?" Set stared straight into Dionysus's eye, almost daring him to look away.
"Yes."
"Why are you letting them define who you are?" Set said. "Who are they to say who you are? They don't control you. They don't have your name and walk in your sandals. Why should their opinions matter?" Set stepped back and readjusted his coat. "Now answer my question; are you a Fighter or a coward?" Dionysus remained silent. "Will you die for the gods who mocked you? Will you fly the standard of this battle as a martyr, knowing you will be wrapped in it when you die? Will you make the other twelve carry the load? Or will you carry it into and out of the stadium as the first of our many Champions and remind them of who you are and what you can do?"
Dionysus met the mad god's gaze. He couldn't tell what Set wanted, or why Set trusted him. He only knew he was trusted, and that was enough.
"I'll do it."
"And?"
"...I will be back."
"Splendid." Set clapped his hands and angels soared into the room with a fresh toga, belt, arm bands, leg bands, and sandals. While three swapped out Dionysus' clothes, two others rapidly trimmed his hair and beard. A few seconds later and Dionysus looked like a whole new god. "Now go out there and prove our strength." The young god took a quick breath in and walked past Set with the angels in tow, the doors closing behind them. Set stood there completely still and breathed slowly. He then began to smile, softly. Still got it.
Valhalla Arena
As the two fighters and their parties made their way from their respective homes, the stands for the Valhalla Arena, the floating battleground for Ragnarök, began to fill with both people and anticipation. Designed like the Coliseum, the stage for the battles was set at the base of the structure, with the audience able to look down and view everything unobstructed. Many beautiful and ornate luxury boxes decorated the arena, where many top gods and their entourages would view the upcoming battles to come. All in all, a beautiful structure dedicated to violence.
As the seats filled, a diminutive god made his way to the center of the arena. He was garbed in purple robes, baring his rock-like torso and arms but covering his head and slicked-back black hair, black pants that stopped just below his knees, and shoes the color of circus tents. The most remarkable thing about him was his face; stone-like as the rest of his body with a jagged maw, a pointed nose, and rose-colored goggles over his sharp eyes. In his hand rested a large horn.
Heimdall
Watchman of the Apocalypse
(Norse Pantheon)
"Ladies and Gentlemen! Welcome to Valhalla Arena!" Heimdall roared into Gjallarhorn. "The curtain on Ragnarök is just about to rise! ARE YOU REAAAAAAAADYYYY!?"
The side of the arena filled with the gods roared in pure excitement, their vitriol for humanity palpable. Many of the humans in the stands kept silent, while a few roared back in response and prepared to cheer for their champions.
"In an exciting twist to these 1-on-1 battles, it was decided that each of these fights will have unique rules and challenges to push the fighters to the limits of their abilities! Can mankind show its innovation in the face of destruction and come out on top, or will the gods prove once and for all their superiority?!"
Heimdall pointed to the East side of the area with his free hand.
"Introducing the Fighter for the Gods in Round 1!"
"Madness and Violence incarnate; a god who bends the world to his whim!"
"A sleeping giant amongst the Olympian Twelve and a nightmare amongst their foes! "
"His strength, like grapevines, ever growing! "
"His resolution, like wine, bold and strong!"
"Once he begins, he cannot be stopped!"
"Help me welcome Heaven's Juggernaut!"
"The Champion of the Titanomachy!"
"Dionysus!"
The East entrance to the arena flew open, unsettling the dust on the arena floor as the gods roared in excitement. Stepping out of the darkened tunnel came Dionysus, his stride and expression resolute. He came to a stop at the center of the arena to Heimdall's right and began to wait. Heimdall quickly took in a deep breath and then pointed at the West side of the arena.
"Introducing the Fighter for Humanity in Round 1!
The dosage makes the poison!
These words were spoken by a man who led the way in medicine during the German Renaissance!
Across Europe and the Northern shores of Africa, in the halls of academia and on the fields of battle, this man sought the truths that had evaded mankind for centuries! Why? To save them from the perils of disease, illness, and ignorance!
Fire, Earth, Air, Water, Salt, Sulfur, Mercury! The very essence of creation and mankind ignited this man's soul and now brings him to his next great challenge!
Introducing the Trailblazer of Medicine! The man who would strive to outdo Celsus and claim the name 'Paracelsus!'
Philippus von Hohenheim!"
The West entrance opened slowly, and dark purple gas began to flow out. It wafted softly into the air and created a cloud enveloping the gate. Out of it, Hohenheim walked quietly, barely making a gesture. As the cloud began to rise, Hohenheim stopped. Softly, he tapped the pummel on the ground twice. The gas quickly froze in the air, and began to flow towards Hohenheim as if sucked into a vacuum. The gas quickly flew to the tip of Hohenheim's staff, flowing into the staff. In an instant, the gas was gone. Hohenheim then walked towards Heimdall and Dionysus, standing parallel to his opponent. "Hey, uh…. that gas wasn't poisonous, was it?" Heimdall asked. The last thing he wanted was to send the crowd into a panic, especially if the Fighters were negligent.
"Hmm? Oh! No, no, no, no." Hohenheim answered, his voice slightly muffled by his mask. "Purely theatrical! If it were in a contained space for a prolonged period, yes. But here? No." Heimdall breathed a sigh of relief, but decided to have transparent barriers set up around the arena to protect the audience just in case. Dionysus remained unaffected by his opponent's theatrics, waiting for the call. Set's words still resonated in his mind while trying to confirm if the human in front of him was worth the worry.
"Now that both Fighters are here, let's get onto the fight! Behold!" Heimdall jumped straight up in the air. Below him, the arena floor opened, and a large statue rose from the opening. More openings appeared sparsely throughout the arena, and from them erupted tall, white marble columns. A floating platform flew from the ringside, and Heimdall landed gracefully on it, while the statue was set in place. Dionysus looked at the statue and could barely hide his irritation. The likeness of his father, Zeus, smiling mid-dance, embossed on dark-green marble, was not something he hoped to see today. He did not notice, however, that Hohenheim was focused more on his response to the statue than the statue itself.
"The rules for Round 1 are simple! Red-light/Green-light!
1) While the statue remains green, the Fighters can move about and fight to their hearts' content! However…" Heimdall gestured towards the statue. The statue's emaciated appearance suddenly swelled with muscle and turned bright red; the smile was replaced with a nasty, toothless grin.
2) Should the fighters move on the ground while the statue is red, they will receive a nasty shock! To let the Fighters know that colors have changed, the statue will shout 'Red Light' or 'Green Light.'
3) Last Fighter alive is the Winner!
Heimdall moved to float above the fighters. "Now, enough about the rules! Let's get to the action! Fighters, ready!?" Dionysus crouched down while Hohenheim widened his stance with his left foot in front and took his staff in both hands, pointing it straight at Dionysus.
"Mist, are you ready?" Hohenheim asked.
"Always," Mist responded in his ear.
Heimdall reared back, inhaled, and threw his whole upper body forward.
"FIIIIIIIGHT!" Gravel flew into the air as Dionysus kicked off the ground, dashing straight at his opponent for a tackle. Hohenheim anticipated this, quickly jumping off his left foot to the right. Quickly recovering his footing, Hohenheim swung his staff at the rushing god. Dionysus ducked into a roll at the last moment, feeling the wooden shaft pass through his hair. He quickly recovered and dashed again, this time slower, while bobbing and weaving. Hohenheim did his best to backpedal and swing at his opponent, but Dionysus weaved around every swing. Hohenheim tried to thrust his staff straight down the middle towards Dionysus' chest, but it was parried away by his left, throwing Hohenheim off-balance. Taking the chance, Dionysus dashed past the danger zone of Hohenheim's staff while continuing the pivot from his parry. Tightening his right fist, Dionysus threw a swift right cross straight at Hohenheim's face.
RED LIGHT!
The statue swelled and began to glare at the fighters. Dionysus' footing was firm, and his fist was just inches from his opponent. Hohenheim held his breath, using every fiber of his being to stay still. The cold realization of being saved by the rules sent a tinge of panic down his spine, but he pushed away and did his best to regain his focus. "Hohenheim, he's too physically strong for us to deal with. We need to move to one of the contingencies as planned." Mist said.
"Hmm," Hohenheim murmured. One of their signals.
"Preparing Contingency A; Sylph Veil, Sub contingencies One and Two."
"Hmm."
"It's complete."
GREEN LIGHT! Dionysus did not waste the moment. With his fist blocking his opponent's sight, he began to pivot his body back to the right, tilting his massive frame to set up an uppercut from below Hohenheim's field of vision. The strike made clean contact with Hohenheim's chin and launched him into the air… At the same time, a massive cloud of yellow gas erupted from Hohenheim's staff. Dionysus' face caught the brunt of the burst, and he began to choke. His eyes began to water, and he grasped at his throat as he jumped away from the cloud as it floated to the ground. Hohenheim landed a few yards away with a loud thump. His head was dizzy from the punch, and he was certain his lower jaw was fractured despite Völund's protective qualities.
"Incredible folks! In just a quick exchange, we've already seen our Fighters try to deal death blows before a minute's even passed!" Heimdall yelled. "Though he took a solid blow from the juggernaut, Hohenheim still managed to release a surprise attack and leave his opponent reeling!"
Up in the stands, the crowd began to talk amongst themselves to determine what the attack Hohenheim used was, two among them, Brunhilde and Göll on the top level.
"Sis, what was that? How is it hurting Dionysus?" Göll asked.
"That, Göll, was Hydrogen Sulfide."
"Hydro wha-?"
"It's a natural gas that can inhibit breathing, cause convulsions…" Brunhilde turned to her sister, sliding her index finger across her throat with a wild gaze. "And certain death. Normally, it's colorless, but I'm guessing the two of them added coloration to make it easier to see."
"How can a gas like that hurt a God? I thought we were immune to things like that!"
"Simple, Göll. The Völund Mist, performed with Hohenheim, created the Divine Treasure Cloak of the Poison Master. With her power "Cloud," she can create any gas she needs. With this, they created a powerful set of poisons just for this match." Brunhilde spread her arms out to her sides. "With Mist's powers and Hohenheim's knowledge of chemistry, the two of them are a walking chemical weapon capable of killing nearly any God!"
Göll shuddered at her sister's words, returning her attention to the ring. Her thoughts now focused on her sister's safety.
On the other side of the arena from the Valkyries, in a private luxury box, sat Zeus, who couldn't be more excited by what he saw.
"Well, isn't this exciting? Didn't expect Dionysus to rush out the gate like this!" Zeus said, laughing to Hermes and his other son, Ares. "Interesting, though. Wasn't that boxing?" Zeus asked Hermes.
"Yes, Sir. From what I recall, he's been practicing with Apollo." Hermes answered.
Ares groaned. "He's practicing with Apollo? I hope Dio doesn't pick up any of his weird habits." Ares lamented.
Zeus chuckled at the idea. "I wouldn't mind it. It'd be a nice change of pace for him rather than his usual sulking. However, that human is more dangerous than I thought."
"How so?" Hermes asked.
"That poisonous gas could only affect Dionysus if it came from a Divine Treasure. Anything else would be harmless to him. Brunhilde…you made this exciting, didn't you?" Zeus' power began to pour out from his body and shook the box.
I might regret not fighting now.
"Hohenheim, are you okay!?" Mist said.
"Maybe. I'm…. a little roughed up, but I'll survive." Hohenheim said, struggling to his feet. He then checked his staff, checking a small meter just above the grip; 92 percent full. Several yards away, he could see Dionysus floundering from the gas. "This is our chance, let's go! Keep the adrenaline drip going along with the analgesic!" The pain from his jaw made his words a struggle to get out, but he managed.
"On it." From within his cloak, a small, square mechanical pack located on his lower back pierced his skin with two small needles and continued to inject the chemicals into his body. The effect would take some time, and he knew he had to manage the doses or they would kill him. Still, the chance to attack his physical superior was not an opportunity he could waste.
Hohenheim broke into a dash. With his staff in one hand, he rummaged through one of his belt pouches and pulled out a deep blue crystal and quickly attached it to the tip of his staff. Contingency E; Gnome's Fang. He thought to himself. His opponent was still too debilitated to notice him, and just a feet away from Dionysus, Hohenheim jumped into the air.
RED LIGHT!
Lightning surged from the statue towards Dionysus and engulfed him. Hohenheim ignored it and committed to his attack. His spear held above his head; he drove it straight into Dionysus' back just below his left lung. His lack of combat experience, Dionysus' convulsing from the electricity and the damage from the punch was coming back to haunt him, but he was still able to stab Dionysus. As his foot touched ground, Hohenheim felt the immense surge of electricity envelope him.
GREEN LIGHT!
Hohenheim collapsed again, the spearhead breaking off from his staff and remaining in Dionysus' back. The adrenaline was kicking in too late, but the pain was being dulled.
"Hohenheim! The Chalcanthite is embedded. Copper poisoning should be setting in shortly." Hohenheim was thanking his stars. Thanks to Mist turning everything they use into Divine Treasures, not only did it make the chemicals effective, but it also accelerated their effects.
RED LIGHT!
Hohenheim went completely still, but he could still hear the crackle of the energy as it shot towards what he thought was his opponent. However, the screaming and coughing stopped. Was his opponent dead? Was he able to defeat him that quickly?
GREEN LIGHT!
Hohenheim managed to lift himself. The pain from the electrocution and the new burns covering parts of his body were fresh and would have overwhelmed his mind were it not for the analgesic. He looked over to where Dionysus was, but he was gone. "Wait, what happened?" Hohenheim asked.
"Sorry, human, should have aimed a little higher." A raspy, but familiar voice said behind him. Hohenheim turned quickly, then shifted to his left to barely avoid a fist aiming straight for his skull. With the adrenaline now set in, Hohenheim reacted quickly and released another burst of Hydrogen Sulfide at the figure out of the corner of his eye. "Not going to work anymore, human." The voice appeared behind him again. This time, he rolled forward and dodged the right kick aimed at his ribs. Recovering his footing, he turned and finally caught sight of Dionysus after avoiding his attacks.
He looked wretched. The Chalcanthite was sticking out of his stomach. The skin around the crystal turned yellow, and dried blood clung to Dionysus' chin, and his eyes nearly matched the color. His body was covered in electric burns, and his breathing was hollow and raspy. His toga was stained red from the burn wounds and the blood he coughed up. His irises, however, were now glowing a bright purple.
"What just happened, folks!? Dionysus took an onslaught of poison and lightning, yet is standing like nothing happened!" Heimdall roared from above.
RED LIGHT!
The statue swelled up. Hohenheim went still, but Dionysus began to walk towards him. The electricity raced towards him and struck him as he walked.
To Hohenheim's horror, no new burns arose. Absurd. You can adapt this quickly!? He thought.
Dionysus did not flinch, shudder, or crumble from the assault. "Like I said, it's not going to work anymore." Dionysus continued his stride. He then grabbed at the crystal poking through his stomach and ripped it clean out before tossing it aside. The spot where it jutted out began to close. "Now die."
GREEN LIGHT!
"It changed that quickly!?" Dionysus yelled. Hohenheim ran opposite his opponent. Dionysus immediately broke out into a sprint and began to catch up to him.
Well, this isn't good. Hohenheim thought to himself. If the Sulfide doesn't work anymore, and the electricity doesn't work anymore, that means I have only a few options. One of Hohenheim's greatest tools, aside from his knowledge, was his vast curiosity. His study of poisons and chemicals revealed to him that objects did not contain an absolute amount of poison. Rather, it was the composition and, most importantly, their dosage. This lesson was playing out in front of him once more in the worst way; Dionysus, as the god of intoxication, had a body that, likely, grew immune to whatever caused Dionysus pain. The gas, crystal, and lightning no longer worked because his body was now immune to them. The real question he had to answer now was...did it heal him?
"Hohenheim, he's gaining on us!" Mist shouted.
"I am aware, but thank you for giving me situational awareness that I appreciate!" The pain from his jaw and burns only slightly subsided, but Hohenheim knew it would only last so long. He had to think quickly. An idea popped into his head. Unlikely to work, but possible. He thought to himself. Hohenheim quickly veered to his right and headed towards one of the columns. Like in the days of his youth, full of large trees, Hohenheim sprang onto the column and climbed as if his life, and indeed it did this time, depended on it. His initial spring onto the column and climb just barely kept him out of range from Dionysus' punch. His fist pierced through the marble as if it were foam.
RED LIGHT!
The electricity raced towards Dionysus as he pulled his arm out of the column, but it did nothing to him. Above him, Hohenheim continued to climb and reached the top.
Hohenheim looked down and saw Dionysus staring back, with the look awakening an odd nostalgia in the doctor. Dionysus sighed, twisted to the right, and smashed his arm through the column. Hohenheim knew this would happen and hopped from his current column to another nearby and began to create space between him and Dionysus.
His gamble paid off. Ha! The columns don't count as the 'ground.' As long as I'm here, I'm safe! Irritation began to set in, and Dionysus began to lose his patience. He followed after Hohenheim, smashing columns as we went. Far ahead of his opponent, Hohenheim aimed his staff down and began releasing more bursts of Hydrogen Sulfide. "Mist, I've got an idea," Hohenheim said as he jumped and continued releasing the toxic gas. Dionysus roared behind him.
"Please tell me it's something that will kill him." Mist groaned.
"Maybe, but I'll need you to generate more Hydrogen Sulfide than what I'm carrying while retaining enough of your power for our trump card."
"I'll make it happen."
He sighed. "What would I do without you?"
"Well, right now you'd probably die."
Hohenheim laughed. "Maybe!"
The game of cat and mouse continued. Hohenheim continued to release the gas Mist provided, while swapping out a cannister from his staff with a new one Mist prepared for him in his belt pocket. Dionysus continued to destroy every foothold he could. Red and Green continued to flash, but neither fighter cared. "What is going on!?" Heimdall yelled. "The entire ring is getting decimated and Hohenheim continues to stay out of Dionysus' reach, but for how long!?" How long was it right? Hohenheim did everything he could, but he was down to one column, and Dionysus was ready to knock it and him down. It was time to strike back.
"Hey Dionysus!" Hohenheim yelled.
"What, you coward!? Dionysus roared. His rage was at a fever pitch.
"I wonder…who's the coward here?"
Dionysus' eyes widened. "What?"
"I mean, who's the coward here? Me, the one fighting against a god who becomes immune to the "poison" that is "injury," or the invincible god whose life is nothing but fear?"
"What is Hohenheim doing?" Heimdall shouted. "He just accused- aggh!" Heimdall barely avoided a large chunk of rock that flew in his direction.
Dionysus stared daggers at Heimdall. Heimdall took the hint and stayed quiet. "You know, I thought you were smart doing what you've done up to now, but you just screwed up. Must have been dumb luck you got here."
"Maybe, but…there's too much poison in you. Anger, fear, pride, and a swath of other insecurities. That's why you'll lose."
"I'll make you choke on those words." Dionysus rushed at Hohenheim's last foothold. As Hohenheim braced himself for one last jump, Dionysus grabbed another rock and tossed it straight at the doctor. Hohenheim barely avoided it, but lost his stance. Dionysus jumped into the air after he tossed the rock, ready to tackle Hohenheim off his perch and finish him. Hohenheim saw him careening toward the top of the column and did the only thing he could; he rolled back and fell off. Dionysus flew past where Hohenheim was and landed dozens of yards further than he wanted to. He turned back and saw Hohenheim holding himself in place by bracing his staff against the column. He then quickly climbed up, took his staff, and attached a ball of cloth to the tip and ignited it.
"You should probably pay attention to this, Dionysus!" Hohenheim shouted.
"What!?"
"Two things about Hydrogen Sulfide: One, it's heavier than air. All the gas I released has collected at your feet and across the whole arena." Dionysus looked around. How could he not notice? The entire floor was covered in it!
"Why does that matter!?" Dionysus broke out into another charge. He wouldn't make the same mistake this time. He'll break down the column and catch Hohenheim mid-fall.
"Two; it's flammable." Hohenheim dropped the small burning ball into the gas.
The arena floor ignited like a flashfire. All the gas collecting on the floor in a contained space made for the ideal incinerator. Hohenheim could hear Dionysus's screams amidst the flames and explosions. "Contingency F; Salamander's Nest."
The displaced air threw Hohenheim off the column. Thinking quickly, managed to aim himself towards one of the broken columns; just enough of it sat above the flames. Hohenheim managed to land on top of it and recover his footing. He then looked toward where Dionysus last was and could see the outline of his body amidst the flames.
"This is not how I wanted to help you, Dionysus. I wasn't left with much of a choice, though. Rest In Peace." Hohenheim bowed his head and muttered a small prayer.
Heimdall floated above and took in the destruction. "AMAZING! Is this what humanity is capable of!? Not only did he protect himself from the shocks, but he even set up a blast to incinerate his opponent! Is this the end of Dionysus!?"
In the luxury boxes above the burning arena, Set stood and watched over the battle. Barely moving from his spot, his gaze never left the fight.
"Looks like you messed up again, Set." A voice from behind Set. The source was a large, stocky god adorned black robes with red trim, his pale skin contrasting his robes, black boots, and neatly trimmed mustache and short, cropped, spiky hair.
Yama
Heaven's Jailkeeper
(Buddhist Pantheon)
"If that's all you thought Dionysus had, then I would almost assume you think little of Hades too, considering he's chosen Dionysus to replace him as the ruler of Helheim one day," Set said without even turning to face his Fighter.
"Hard to do that when you're deader than the souls you're overseeing."
Set inhaled slowly and exhaled.
"Yama, are you familiar with the Greeks' war against the Titans?"
"Who isn't?"
"We all know Zeus and his brothers defeated Cronus and overthrew him, but the titans outnumbered the gods, and even killed a few. One especially…or so they thought." Yama tilted his head and raised an eyebrow. "Many of Zeus' sons were fighting at the time. One was surrounded and torn apart by the titans. However…he came back. All the pain and suffering the Titans poured on him turned into power and strength. In retribution for his pain, he inflicted it tenfold, nay, maybe a hundred-fold, in return. That god is now down there suffering a few more burns." Set then turned his head to glance at Yama. "Do you think a Valkyrie and some human doctor will put down the god who butchered the titans?" A deafening roar flew out of the arena below, unsettling the dust and knocking a few people out of their seats. Yama felt a chill run down his spine. Set resumed his observation of the arena. "Welcome back, Zagreus."