“Listen, Van Holt: I get, I do. That guy stole away your hot fiance, and now you won't become a noble anymore, and all your stupid dreams of wealth and prestige are in pieces and you're angry and all that kind of depressing stuff... I understand, man, really. You hate the guy and you wanna kill him, that's fair, But let's face it: you're no match for him, not even close. Did you see what he just did, that sex-demon-shadow magic he just cast right there? It was dark and evil, sure, but powerful too. Very powerful," Max said, trailing off for a moment, genuinely impressed by Jadrik's mastery of demonic magic. Then, shrugging, the bald paladin resumed: “Besides, she doesn't love you, man, She loves him, it's obvious. They're kinda cute together too, in a fucked up way. They're certainly well-matched at least, more than you would be with her. I mean, she's totally out of your league, man, and not just because she's from a noble family and all that. Just look at her, and then look at yourself Frankly, I don't see how she could have ever gone for you in the first place. I'm gonna go out on a limb here and assume that she was in a pretty bad place in her life when you two got together, wasn't she?"

Gritting his teeth as Max nodded sagely to himself while essentially insulting him with his every word, Aldarius clenched his armored fists and trembled with righteous rage as he snarled: “Let me through, Mensen, Let me through! I'm gonna kill that heretic warlock right now, and I'll dispose of anyone who tries to stop me!"

Exhaling and rolling his eyes, Max was scratching his beard as he looked for the right words to explain to Aldarius once again that it was over, that Shayla was not coming back to him and that Jadrik wasn't to blame and in fact had kept his word about solving their issues with the succubi invasion of the Catacombs. But before the leader of the paladins could start speaking, the warlock's voice resounded in the cathedral hall.

“Let him through, Max. If he wants to kill me, he's welcome to try. Girls," Jadrik said, looking over the array of succubi hanging on his every word, “help Al get into the circle without breaking the lines, please. Also, come here and help your broodmother up, and see that she rests and recuperates. She's had a very busy day... Okay, Al," the warlock went on, focusing his gaze on the angry paladin,"let's sort this out once and for all, alright? Man to man, honorable combat and all that type of stuff, the way you silly knights like."

Blindsided by Jadrik's invitation and by the nonchalant confidence in his tone, Aldarius was blinking in surprise when he felt a dozen hands grabbing him and pulling him off his feet. A few screeching yelps that didn't quite convey indignation as much as girlishness were all the paladin managed to let out as the succubi raised him bodily off the ground, carried him a few feet forward and threw him unceremoniously across the magical sigils and lines drawn on the floor, causing him to land with a crash of armor inside the summoning circle without breaking the containment pattern.

Lying flat on the hard marbled floor, stunned by the violent and sudden impact, Aldarius heard giggles all around him. As soon as he opened his eyes, he saw a few hell-girls scampering around him and heading for the altar, where they helped their indigo-skinned leader up to her cloven feet and carried her barely conscious form outside the magic circle, showing much more grace and delicacy than they had just reserved for him. As they disappeared out of his field of vision, the succubi kept chitchatting in their infernal language, their husky voices intermingled with teasing titters and bursts of laughter, which Aldarius was sure must be at his very expense,

Roaring with anger but also groaning with the pain caused by his hard landing on the stony floor, Aldarius scrambled up to his knees, bristling with indignation, only to find himself facing Uli. Fully naked, brandishing his huge and blatantly deadly battle axe, the dwarf was positioned right in front of Aldarius, his short legs parted and his whole squat, massively muscular body poised in a battle stance that was so well practiced as to have become second nature to the warrior. Uli's gray eyes were cold and unblinking as he stared at the fuming paladin with fixed intensity for a few second, before grumbling out with lethal calm: “Don't ye try anything daft now, lad. If ye're thinking about a suicidal last play, like breaking them magic lines over there and getting us all killed, ye better think again."

As his baleful words hung in the air, Uli raised his weapon in an unequivocally menacing gesture that somehow felt even more threatening for being delivered by the warrior while he wore nothing, his fat dwarven dick hanging heavily between his powerful legs, the imposing braids of his red beard dangling on his large muscular chest, his huge biceps bulging and rippling, ready and seemingly very eager to swing his giant axe and execute Aldarius in one quick, brutal chopping strike.

Slowly getting to his feet while dusting himself off, Aldarius willed himself to meet Uli's stony glare and not flinch, but he failed. It didn't even matter that now, standing to his full height, the paladin towered over the short boulder-thick dwarf: the raw power exuding from the naked warrior, the grim lethality he incarnated and his sheer intimidating presence easily forced Aldarius to lower his gaze down and turn his head the other way as he moved past Uli, heading toward his hated intended target.

Standing with his back to the altar, with Shayla to his right side and Laentharyel to his left, Jadrik had his signature grin stamped on his lips as he watched the fuming, humiliated paladin walk closer. It wasn't lost on the warlock that Aldarius took a long glance at Laeny and Shayla, his eyes lingering on the two naked and seed-glazed beauties' curves and faces before his furious gaze once again focused on Jadrik, the paladin's expression of pure hatred and blind anger now appearing even more savage, as if the sight of Laeny's and especially Shayla's nakedness had stoked his ire to the extreme. Amused by the knight's impotent wrath and not in the least concerned by his obvious murderous intentions, the warlock kept smirking as he calmly invited Shayla and Laeny to go join Uli, leaving him to deal with Aldarius alone.

"So, here we are, Al. Just you and I," Jadrik said as the paladin stood in front of him, just a couple of feet away. Turning to the side, Aldarius snarled and glared daggers at Shayla as she strutted past him, her huge tits and plump ass jiggling beautifully, her deep blue eyes sparing her former fiance just a quick, dismissive glance of disdain. As soon as Shayla had moved away and Aldarius was focused on him again, Jadrik resumed speaking, an almost bored edge in his calm voice.

“Right then, let's get this over and done with already. One on one, face to face. A fair fight, Like gentlemen. I won't use magic and you can't use weapons. A good old fashion duel, with just our bare hands and the strength of our convictions, What do you say, Al? Wanna try your luck at smashing my face instead of getting yours beaten to a pulp for a change?"

Despite his attitude of careless apathy, a note of mocking scorn had grown more and more obvious in Jadrik's words as he spoke, causing Aldarius's blood to boil. He hated the warlock. He had been shamelessly disrespectful to his faith, he had mocked his Order and derided his calling as a paladin. He had stolen away his fiance, seducing her and corrupting her and ruining her, and finally involving her in an abominable demonic ritual. And, to make everything even worse, the warlock had tainted his fellow knights too, twisting their minds to the point that now they, his own sworn brothers of the Golden Shield, the very people who should be on his side, were instead regarding Jadrik as some sort of hero!

That was unacceptable to Aldarius. It was just too much. Something must be done, some semblance of justice and righteousness and order must be brought back to that sinful, insane, evil mess of a situation. And it all came down to dealing with the prime cause of it all: Jadrik. He had to die.

Growling, gritting his teeth and clenching his armored fists as he incinerated the naked, smirking warlock with an unblinking gaze of hatred, Aldarius cracked a maniacal grin and spat: "Prepare to die, monster. In the name of the Gods of Light, I'll kill you and rid the world of your evil and perversity, if it's the last thing I do."

Nodding and shrugging his shoulders, Jadrik smiled as he said: "Sure, absolutely, Are we agreed on the rules, then? No magic and no weapons? And that includes that silly little shield you've got strapped on your back and that cute Little ornamental mace hanging from your belt. Aw, look at that, so shiny and pretty! Not that it would be much of a weapon even if you wanted to..."

Roaring with barely contained fury, staring wide-eyed at the chuckling, irreverently joyful warlock, Aldarius barked back: “I will respect the rules, monster, But how do I know you will? You're a liar and a cheat. Your word means nothing."

“Fair enough, I guess you could say that," Jadrik conceded with a grin, leaning back to rest his elbows on the altar behind him and assuming a pensive pose.