Don’t Lose Your Head, Dulla-sama!

Lightning shot across the blackened sky, charging the air around Lord Dulla Tyranus as he calmly surveyed his lands. The Greymires stretched out for kilometers in every direction, only interrupted by the turn of a windmill and the outline of his town atop a hill. The night heralded the arrival of rain and something else that he needed to crush.

A deep breath shuffled the dark plates of armor that adorned his body, each embossed and engraved with his own personal sigil. A confidently cruel smile stretched across his face, framed well by his black hair and amply trimmed mustache. And a fire stirred within his breast as another crack of lightning tore across the sky.

It would soon be satiated.

His gaze turned to the town, and a chuckle escaped his hollow throat. As foolish as they were, they knew their place during their strict curfew. No one would dare step foot out as he rode to meet the rumored 'hero'—especially not when this 'hero' was the daughter of the fool that'd decapitated him so many years ago.

The reins of his horse tightened, straining leather between gauntlet-clad fingers. He would make sure her blood was scattered upon the same soil that he'd been slain upon and bound to.

Ever since his defeat at the hands of that accursed 'hero', the Scourge of Greymires had become far stronger. The borders of his domain were a bladed wall to all now, regardless of power!

Greedy dragons, rampaging bands of adventurers, even the likes of the World Guild with their corrupt notions had fallen beneath his might! Their defeats had been written upon bone and hoisted as directional signs, left as warnings to all that would dare to cross him!

A deep cackle escaped him as he bid his steed forth, cutting through the night with a dread and despair that could not be matched.

In a twisted way, it was all thanks to that accursed hero that he'd become his truest self. And now his victory would come to a close by the death—or perhaps capture depending on the circumstance—of that man's progeny, all these decades later.

The sudden glint of armor brought his advance to an abrupt halt.

Another streak of lightning illuminated the stormy sky, and beneath it on the road was a woman adorned in pure, unblemished silver. It was the only thing that could be seen—by the gods, just how polished was her armor?!

He dismounted from his steed and approached, his dread blade firmly in his hand as the figure did the same, cutting through the dark with her luster.

If she put that much effort into maintaining her equipment, she was already leagues more competent than most of the fools that challenged him.

Lord Dulla steadied himself as they eventually met upon the stretch, staring at one another across a twenty-meter gap. The armored figure was surprisingly smaller than what the rumors had suggested, but the power emanating from her was unmistakable.

She was definitely the spawn of that murderous idiot.

"So you have come to face your end by my blade," Dulla boomed, projecting his might. "I would say it was a pleasure to meet you, but I'm not a fan of farce. Instead I shall ask that you brace yourself."

The wind blew, bringing with it stray droplets and the woman's visage as she finally lifted her helmet from her shoulders. Beneath a crown of golden blonde hair and the pelting of rain, she defiantly glared and proclaimed back as loudly as she could,

"I am Dame Eirlys Gloriana the Radiant Vow, and I have come to defeat you, Dulla-sama!"

The dullahan lord scoffed.

"Such a garish title, Dame Eiryls—Wait, what did you just call me?"

"Dulla-sama!" she exclaimed, levying her longsword at him.

Lord Dulla's eye twitched at the odd honorific. "That doesn't quite explain—"

"I'm here to defeat you! And then, once I do, I shall ensure righteousness is restored to your soul!"

Moxie stewed into bewilderment.

"…What in the hells are you on about?"

"I am going to fix you!!!"

"Fix what?"

"You!" Eirlys pointed dramatically, her smile brightening enough to rival lightning. "And then we will get betrothed and live happily ever after! Just like the stories of old—"

In a flash, Lord Dulla closed the gap, his dread blade extending into a whip of obsidian metal as it dug into the frighteningly chipper woman’s unarmored neck. With a smooth twist, he tore the blade to the side, intending to rip her head off her shoulders and send it sailing away.

He normally never 'killed' killed, but this was an exception. This had to be some form of madness, and if he allowed it to continue, he might very well lose his mind to whatever insanity had taken hold of this woman.

*CHINK!*

However, the blade stopped just as the edge dug into her skin, merely drawing a thin line of red with the effort of attempting to cleave a mountain in half.

His eyes widened.

By the elder gods, what in the hells was happening?!

It was forged of duranite within the heart of Khaz'Adirm, and she was stopping it with nothing more than her bare flesh! Was she truly that strong?! No, such a thing could not be possible—it had to be some manner of trickery!

Channeling all of the magical might he could muster—and unfortunately uprooting the carefully lain cobblestone of the road in collateral—he wrenched back on the blade, intending end upon the dame.

Instead, she was flung toward him, and her gleaming armor was torn asunder, revealing a painfully beautiful figure only marred by her smile and a flash of pink lingerie.

With a girlish giggle she was suddenly in his face, her hand on his chin as their noses brushed together.

"HOLY HELLS?!"

He roared in confusion, twisting away and slamming his helmet down as he desperately put distance between them.

"WHAT IN THE GODS ARE YOU DOING, WOMAN?!"

"My, my. Don't lose your head, Dulla-sama~" she uttered, forcing a shiver down his spine with that accursed honorific again and a giggling coy wink. "You truly are as powerful as the twisted tales imply! I can hardly wait to see what else you can do with that your 'sword' of yours~!"

With a painfully dramatic flourish she raised her blade and parted the gloom in a flash of lightning. The clouds above swirled around them both like some demented stage play.

"Come and let us fight! And then we can get married~!"

"LIKE HELL WE ARE!" His blade slammed into the ground.

The world shook as their weapons shattered the landscape—Shit! He'd just gotten that crossroad sign replaced—and in an instant, the two combatants leapt into the air, clashing with a force that rocked the sky.

Wind, steel, magic and power; they all swirled and clashed in a symphony of chaos and destruction.

Lord Dulla grimaced as one of his armor plates was nearly cratered in by a pommel strike.

What in the hells was wrong with this woman?! Her blade flashed like a storm of light; her strikes were like the crashing of mountains; and while her armor lay in tatters and her hair fluttered like a wild mane of gold, the mad glint in both her eyes and smile were still as sharp as adamantine.

Moments turned to minutes in their dance of death. They fought not just with weapons, but with a primal ferocity that set the atmosphere ablaze. Dullahan or human, it mattered not in this maelstrom of violent wills. The Scourge of Greymires, Dulla Tyranus, had never experienced such intensity.

This was without a doubt the offspring of that accursed 'hero'… but something else was at play here. Something unnatural.

Despite getting blows in that should've killed her a thousand times over, all he managed to do was to eviscerate the remnants of her clothing and armor!

To make matters worse, each wound only made her happier as she sang amongst the thrum of combat!

⊱ ──────ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ────── ⊰

♫ Oh, my darling Dulla-sama!

Your cruel laugh and glowing eyes!

It makes me truly long for your kiss and for you to claim me as your prize! ♫

♫ Oh, my darling Dulla-sama!

Behind that handsome aged face,

It's clear to me that your harshness is real, but it emboldens this maiden's chase! ♫

♫ Oh, my darling Dulla-sama!

Our love will bloom in time!

Let our blades clash as much as our bods, so much it's nearly a crime! ♫

⊱ ──────ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ────── ⊰

"STOP SINGING YOU DAMN FOOL!" Dulla shouted, swinging at her.

The Radiant Vow simply parried and spun around him with an otherworldly grace. However, despite the amazing technique, she'd finally made a vital mistake in her flourish.

Dulla's blade pulsed with the energy that'd risen him—that'd given him this second life—pure, unadulterated spite, and in one swift movement thrust it towards her back.

"I'll show you the power of the Death Knight of Karandir!"

There was a sickening squelch and Eirlys's sword fell from her hand, her body tensing as blade pierced through flesh and bone.

Dulla's eyes narrowed in satisfaction upon hearing her gasp.

"…" But only slightly?

He pulled his sword free and watched her slump to the ground in a pool of crimson. He'd expected her to cry out in pain—to beg for mercy—or at least to give him some kind of satisfying reaction. But no, she simply looked at him with a serene smile and eyes twinkling with a strange kind of joy as if this was exactly what she'd expected from their encounter.

"That was… beautiful, Lord Dulla-sama."

A faint cough as wetness drenched her form.

"…Please, in my last moments, may you call me by my first name?"

The sudden request caught him off guard, but then with a chuckle as dry as the deserts of Zan'sar and as cold as the ice of the Frozen Wastes, he acquiesced in a low rumble.

"Eirlys. Rest now."

And with that, the woman's eyes closed, and her body grew still in peaceful contentment.

"…" Until her wounds suddenly closed over and she gave a satisfied sigh.

"Ufufu, that was wonderful." She slowly pushed herself back up as the rain slowed, turning to face him with that same maddening grin and her armor somehow fixed in the process.

"…" Lord Dulla stood in shock, his own head nearly falling off.

"Let's do this again, Dulla-sama," she said with an almost childlike glee. "Oh, the pain you inflicted made me feel so alive~"

"…" Silence was all he could muster despite his ungodly strength.

"I'm looking forward to our next battle, my beloved Scourge~"

She gathered her fallen weapon and sheathed it with a wink.

"Until next time!"

In a sway of hips and body language completely at odds with her actions, she casually strutted toward his town.

The sheer insanity of the situation made his head spin and his limbs numb in a manner he hadn't felt since his death.

The dullahan could only watch until she was a dot in the distance—

*ka-chink*

—before falling to his knees and letting out a scream that shook the foundations of the world.