The monster had perished again, the life fleeing its sunken, pale, glassy eyes, yet returning in a sudden, volcanic flare. Lightning black as briny murk coursed along its torn frame, glossy strands of muscle reaching like plaintive hands, snagging the severed halves and slowly drawing them toward one another.

Or'do screamed, a horrible, haunting sound that trembled in my bones, as the dark fire seethed along our fallen adversary, and bit deep into his buried fingers. Trailing damply gleaming strands, his hands tore free, and Or'do scrambled back as the Brainsucker rose once more, stumbling, shambling, yet renewed.

Light brings Dark, for without it Light cannot be defined. In the darkest of foes there remains still Light, blazing forth when their forms crumple and stave beneath our blows. If Light dwells within even such twisted creatures, it cannot ever be far beyond the reach of Or'do. This was a thought to which I clung as lowering my Greatsword, angling its glinting edge toward the domed ceiling, its ornate planes toward my foe.

Coalescence gathers the scattering Light. Conflagrance wreaths my body in Fire, and Ignescence lights a Bonfire without need of a Coiled Sword. I dropped the sword, letting it clatter forlorn to the stones, its impact wringing the knell of death for this beast. I knew how to vanquish it.

I rose, flame rippling over my arms, casting frenzied shadows across the cracked stone, blackening my sclera as flame blackens timber, turning my pupils into molten globes set within the darkness. Conflagrance! Marbles of fire poured from my fingertips, coagulating and hardening like metal cast into waiting mould. Into my waiting hand dropped a slender sword of pure flame, its pommel warm in my palm, its shallowly curved edge weeping tears of fire, its name was Lacrimosa, the Bright Sword of Despair. I ducked beneath its outstretched arm, and drove Lacrimosa deep into its chest, the searing blade glowing through its flesh as a lantern shines through a hand against its pane. I ripped the sword left and down, punching through its body, tearing it nearly in two, sending it to its knees before the crack of its sundered bones had even rung forth. I thrust a hand into its ravaged chest, closing fingers hard as iron, hot as the Sun, around its ribs.

Wetly cracking, its ribs gave beneath my immense strength, erupting from its body in a geyser of black ichor that turned to rancid vapour as it neared me, incinerated by the heat of the Flame. I threw its damply gleaming ribs to the earth, yet at once it began to regenerate, Dark mist swirling around the emptiness, hardening into the curved bones I had just torn forth. Again, again, again I tore its bones from its body, grinding some to dust, leaving some whole, laying the remains in a mound before it. The monster struggled now, certain of its immortality, clawing at me with cold, moist fingers even as I tore the calcified framework from its body. Lacrimosa shone its holy light from the gaping wound, preventing it from closing, slowing the beast's healing. Three more ribs I tore, then wrenching the Bright Blade free, I twisted away and extended a hand with fingers splayed and palm bare toward the glistening mound.

Ignescence! Flame swelled along the gleaming bones, blazing forth in blinding splendor. Both it and my comrade howled in agony, falling as one to their knees, Or'do sinking clawed fingers into the stone, it thrashing helplessly before the Fire. Light burned away its Darkness, its flesh dissolving into nebulous mist which vanished like a grim morn's mist before noon's hopeful light. Now and forevermore it lay in the ultimate Darkness that lurked beyond Death's threshold. It had fallen, and would never again rise.