The obscene humanoid trampled towards the glorious host of the Grim Reaper’s generals. Distasteful laughter filled the air, the ‘god-warrior’ leading two reluctant and one broken follower. “You are unworthy of eternal existence, fiend!” Glory declared and thrust his halberd at the Flayer Lord.

The highest of all Mummy Lords, as these necromantic amateurs called them, dodged the strike narrowly. No matter, the grand-marshal of death had his comrades behind him.

A hammer blow struck Xipe-Totec in the chest. A swift judgement for a creature that would hurt cats. Landing in the perverted ocean, the god-warrior disappeared for a moment under the sickening waves. ‘Too sad his master will not devour him too,’ Zelos lamented.

Xipe-Totec surfaced again nearly immediately. “Back me up, you fools!” he barked at the other god-warriors. “Not you!” he added, pointing at Huitzilopochtli. “Make sure your tool of a ‘daughter’ stays put.”

The god of sacrifice obeyed, like beaten dogs did, without a single sound. “A three versus three, then? A good old fashioned bout!” Glory declared.

“It’s too early… for this…” Famine coughed, the lazy bum, and fell off his horse.

The god-warriors collapsed on the remaining two standing members of the riders. Xipe-Totec engaged glorious Glory while his weaker comrades saw it necessary to gang up on mighty Ares. Alas, such attempts at overpowering War were to play into the hand of Zelos.

Magnificent steed rising, Xipe-Totec was kept at a distance by the barraging hooves. The size and splendour of Glory’s mount covered the rider’s body for long enough that he launched one of the space-cutting halberds. The wondrous magic slammed into the ground behind the colourful lamia and the black panther man.

Zelos was transported, brought behind the assailants that were caught between a conjured lance and the forge hammer of War. Before Glory could finish his masterful manoeuvre, he had his own horse thrown at him. “Your opponent is me, invader!”

Artfully, Zelos caught his second half and placed him back on his hooves. The steed shone with vengeful light, galloping towards Xipe-Totec fearlessly. Holding onto the reins, the strongest of the riders mounted his steed mid charge. “A creature like you would never know the value of comradery!” boasted Glory. “Our bond will be our victory!”

The wretch retched. Truly a sad reaction by a sad soul. Glory saw it befitting to free the world of such a foul mind. The galloping thrust of his lance began a new engagement.

Keeping up with the radiant horse, Xipe-Totec repeatedly swiped at mount and rider. Glory met the attacks in kind. Stab for stab, the foremost of the Horsemen delivered wounds to the Flayer Lord. Claw for claw, the god-warrior carved into the armour of the horse.

Their exchanges took them along the coastline of the island. A gargantuan eel surfaced from a pool as they galloped past, its circular maw headed for Glory. The rider summoned a second lance, skewering the monster moments before its attack connected.

A cowardly distraction, which the Flayer Lord exploited. His claws caught Glory by the midsection, ripping him off his mount and flinging him into the nearby ocean. Refusing to let his armour be tainted by the rancid Purple, the rider launched a spatial lance. A dozen fish jumped and chomped at nothing.

Glory manifested on the shore again, quickly gaining his bearings. Xipe-Totec reacted faster than the mount of the rider. Surfing on a wave of rot and plague life, the Flayer Lord swept down the coastline. Grabbing fish out of the crest of the wave, he flung them across the distance. Blighted piranhas were turned into living projectiles.

“Distasteful!” Glory declared, conjuring and throwing lances at an equal speed. Magical projectiles broke as they ripped apart biological ones, leaving the distance between them a curtain of gore and radiant particles. “You believe you can harm the first servant of Death by throwing fish at him?!”

“There is always a bigger fish!” Xipe-Totec screamed back.

A second eel, equally massive to the first, broke from the waves and arched towards the shore. Xipe-Totec leapt onto its back, using it as a moving bridge. Leaping straight upwards, Glory evaded the maw of the marine corruption, clashed with Xipe-Totec, and then landed in the saddle of his steed.

“Magnificent jump, as appropriate for my beast of burden!” The horse sputtered playfully, while it got its deserved neck scratches. Three seconds of such was all the wraith could give his steed, before the battle continued. Xipe-Totec remained hot on their trail and swiftly they were back to a hit and run exchange.

“Will you stop holding back soon?” the god-warrior shouted mockingly. “Or must I rip your vain visage off your hideous face again?”

“I hide no ugliness, I merely espouse the rightful glory of my lord and master!” Zelos returned. ‘That’s right, stay nice and focused on me,’ the Grand-Marshall thought. ‘We’ve almost made the full round…’

Xipe-Totec lunged and Zelos smirked. Realizing his mistake too late, the god-warrior was suddenly battered by the pale steed of Famine. The horse was not strong enough to throw the Flayer Lord on his back. It was enough for a delay and a delay was all that Glory needed.

Ares was desperately fending off Quetzalcoatl and Tezcatlipoca. The blacksmith of the Horsemen was taking a valiant and successful stand. His two opponents were shaken in their loyalty by the events of the day and had evident difficulties coordinating beyond that. Their strategy went no deeper than splitting up into a ranged and a melee combatant.

That made the feathered lamia a simple target for a pincer attack.

The colourful god-warrior reacted swiftly to Glory’s approach, conjuring a blast of wind that slowed Zelos’ advance. Thrusting his arm out, the leader of the riders grasped the fabric of space and pulled at a singular thread. Longitude before him waved and compacted, pulling in Quetzalcoatl alongside everything loose that was in a cone before and behind her.

Glory released the space again, letting the waved beach smooth back out. Quetzalcoatl was left closer to him. The sudden proximity made her intensify her spell in a panic. The wind picked up further, bringing Zelos to a full halt.

“IDIOT!” Xipe-Totec roared. “BEHIND YOU!”

Quetzalcoatl turned her head, coming face to face with Famine. The dried-out vampire grinned, suppressing a mixture of chuckle and cough. Moving him closer had been the true goal of folding space up, and with both her hands dedicated to trying to keep Zelos back…

A desperate swing of her tail was just as unsuccessful as Tezcatlipoca’s attempt to come to her aid. Shedding his lethargic nature, the emaciated vampire held onto Quetzalcoatl. His bone white teeth parted, then sunk into the neck of the god-warrior. Gulp after gulp of blood swelled the form of the famished rider with vitality. From frail to thin, from thin to muscular, from muscular to statuesque, the vampire returned to the prime of his life.

Pale he remained, but his skin now stretched smooth and taut over his flesh. The loose armour he had worn was now completely filled out, the white plates regaining their lustre. Even more stark was the transformation of his sword. Rust fell off the long blade, decay flaking off and leaving behind a gorgeous piece of simple and effectively forged mithril.

Famine disconnected from Quetzalcoatl’s neck, leaving the formerly gorgeous woman sickly pale. She collapsed into the sand. Famine licked his lips with his long, pointy tongue, then charged. At first it appeared he aimed for Tezcatlipoca, then he took a hard turn. In a passing leap, he clapped the raised hand of Zelos, before grasping the reins of his steed. Like himself, it was returned to its prime – a finely bred warhorse readily carrying its owner towards the Flayer Lord.

Zelos was on the move as well, slamming into Tezcatlipoca’s flank. The panther-headed warrior had prepared himself for an attack from behind. Caught completely open, his side was swiftly skewered. A split second later, War brought down his great hammer, cracking the mixture of mask and skull on the god-warrior’s head.

A gravitational wave forced both Horsemen back. It was a delay, nothing more. The Lord of Darkness, as he was called, collapsed to one knee. Zelos raised an eyebrow. “Strong as you are of body, it seems you are weak of mind,” Glory commented. “Were you created so hastily that they found no proper host? Famine!”

The third Horseman was trading rapid blows with Xipe-Totec until his leader called to him. “And I was starting to have fun here!” he lamented, then jumped backwards.

The Flayer Lord did not set after him. All of his body language indicated that he wished to. “I commend you for the little bit of wisdom you seem to still possess! It is more than I expect of those that would defy the Lord of the Necropolis!” Dismissing his conjured weapon, the foremost of the Horsemen clapped his hands. War and Famine flanked Glory, the three of them forming an orderly line. “Your compatriots have fallen. I will now take your surrender.”

“Surrender?” Xipe Totec cackled. “Compatriots?” He shook his head intensely, sending his greasy blonde hair flying. “Which one of them should I call my equal?! The reckless fool?” He pointed at Quetzalcoatl. “The pawn?” He pointed at Tezcatlipoca. “The broken tool?” He pointed at Huitzilopochtli, still standing at the side, his equally quiet daughter next to him. “I have no compatriots here. Do you even know how we make a god-warrior?”

“Do we have to bother listening to this?” Ares asked. “We can just end him and move on.”

Sighing, Glory waved his hand. “Our victory must be absolute, friend! How else can we espouse the supremacy of our lord?”

“By winning?” Famine suggested in a dry tone. “Come on, I’m on borrowed blood here! Lemme at ’em!”

“This is why I am the leader and you two are not!” Glory gestured at Xipe-Totec. “By all means, young one, continue your little spiel of how great you are. Try to erect your pile of dust before our palace of justice.”

“Then let me enlighten you,” Xipe-Totec growled and extended both his hands towards the comrades that had, despite it all, started to crawl towards him. “All god-warriors are made by the god of gluttony, vomiting out a devoured god. He grants the Faith he has eaten to a target of his choosing and makes them extensions of his will. They can be men or half-digested gods, it doesn’t matter, he coats their surface in his make, which means… I FLAY!”

The skinless creature snapped downwards and ripped the entirety of the surface off his comrades. All that made the two god-warriors holders of that title was removed, peeled away, and made into a coat that hung from Xipe-Totec’s hands.

Left behind, on the ground were two piles of human flesh. They vaguely retained the features of such, contorting and twisting in pain. Lacking eyes, mouths, and other orifices, the skinless duo had no chance of survival. The former god-warriors perished within moments, while Xipe-Totec mantled their borrowed power.

The Flayer Lord’s spine cracked as the two vomited divinities soaked into him. His legs turned liquid, fusing together into a long, serpent-esque tail, covered in featherless quills. The fibre of his muscles turned as black as the night. All of his form bulged and grew, the exposed marbling of muscles increasing in scope and density.

Amidst his transformation, he twisted around. In a single move that Glory had not accounted for, he spoke the two baleful words again, “I FLAY!” and ripped the surface off Huitzilopochtli.

Gone was the diamond-eyed warrior of blue, red, green and black. All of that exterior was turned into a hollowed out epidermis, hanging from the Flayer Lord’s sickle claws. Left behind was a creature little better off than the two dead humans. A true blob of flesh, scarcely a bone or other hard tissue to call his own, bleeding profusely from all of its jelly-like surface. A hint of a spine kept the head upright, a thing of gelatin, no eyes, and a mouth that the god of sacrifice refused to open even then.

‘The poor girl,’ Zelos thought, witnessing Nahua stare. Pure shock was the only reaction she still had within her.

“500 years and finally Macuil made you ready to become part of me!” Xipe-Totec spoke in three voices. “I CLAIM THIS SKIN FOREVER!” One more Babel Phrase to finish it all, the skin dissolving and then seeping into the still-transforming Flayer Lord.

Further, the god-warrior swelled, until his size reached well over fifteen metres. Three quarters of that was the tail that had replaced his lower body, the rest an elongated torso. New arms sprouted from his sides. His hair twisted and bundled into serpents of a dull yellow. The head grew to a grotesque size, cheeks splitting open, jaw-growing, until it all was a mockery of a proud panther. The length of the spine of Xipe-Totec was a forest of red stakes.

“I AM COMPLETE!” Xipe-Totec roared.

“Fantastic – then you might be a challenge!” Zelos extended his hand to the left. A sword was placed in his hand – a sleek, gorgeous thing, emerging from War’s personal collection. “ASHES TO ASHES, DUST TO DUST!”

Time magic intertwined with spatial magic to create an absolute certainty: that the goal of all life was death. The blade in Glory’s hand vibrated, the unique enchantments putting the carefully created alloy through a rapid cycle of rust and renewal. It manifested as waves of silver and gold running along the length of the sleek weapon.

“TO WAR!” Ares roared.

“FINALLY, SOME ACTION!” Famine echoed.

“AN OBSTACLE TO SLAY!” Zelos decreed.

A diagonal slash rippled through time and space. The very moment that the Horseman swung the weapon, the chest of Xipe-Totec began to bleed. It had already been decided that the attack would hurt his enemy, now the question was only how much.

Moving with astounding speed for such a large entity, the last god-warrior slithered out of the way. If nothing else, Xipe-Totec could be commended for his rapid adaptation to his new body, utilizing the many arms and his serpent tail to twist and change direction on a dime.

The uppermost pair of arms were just as elongated as the torso, each claw as long as Zelos’ blade. Sickle-claws and sword met head on. The keen edges of the claws withered on contact with the weapon, only to regenerate when Xipe-Totec pulled them back.

Continuing his forward attacks, Glory’s every swing drew a wound. It was only a matter of time until he would land a proper hit and that matter of time was a matter of his magic’s reach. Like folded space, he folded that certainty into the now. It made for shallow cuts but guaranteed cuts all the same. Being ignored for a single moment would be all Zelos needed to bring about a mortal strike.

Xipe-Totec did not fail to acknowledge that. Neither did the god-warrior fail to keep the many eyes of his snakes on the two other Horsemen. Famine and War galloped off to the sides. From his great arsenal, War withdrew massive nails, launching them with strikes of his forge hammer. Famine bled from his wrists, turning the sanguine tide into crystalline projectiles.

Such harassment was all that they could manage for now, for their enemy was as strong as he was wicked.

Xipe-Totec stayed constantly on the move, coiling and twisting over the battlefield. “You look as small now as I always imagined you should be,” the creature declared, his crooked and splintered teeth parting wide.

Zelos stood up atop his horse, then jumped straight into the approaching maw.

Darkness.

Tight and constricting darkness. A gravitational force all around weighing him down. Zelos fed the decay around him. The walls of the undead body around him withered, but renewed just as fast. Muscles crushed down on him. Had he needed to breathe, the wraith would have started to suffocate. His magical essence and the bones he possessed were starting to erode. He was in danger.

And in desperation, true glory was found.

Power swelling, the Grand-Marshall of Death swung his sword. He scarcely had the room to move, but he did it anyway. The slash rippled through time and space, existing before and after it had occurred, ripping open the belly of the beast from inside.

Xipe-Totec howled in great pain. Zelos emerged from the stomach. Three pairs of arms slammed down on him, crumpling him together in-between the massive palms like a bug. Orientation was impossible, the vengeful god-warrior keeping up the pressure.

Suddenly, Zelos was ripped downwards. A guided motion was followed by a wild flight. He realized what had happened as he slammed into the sand next to Famine: the vampire had charged in valiantly and dragged him out. Both of them had been hit for it. “A great effort!” Glory complimented.

“Fucking move!” the vampire shouted back.

The maw of the god-warrior creature was opened yet again. A condensed ball of gravity, wind and blood emerged at hypersonic speed, catching the two Horsemen. They were blasted apart, then caught by tendrils of sacrificed ichor, pulling them back together.

Zelos focused his decaying aura, aging the binding spell rapidly until it crumbled away. A second breath attack like the first was launched in the same instant. War appeared before them, a giant shield at the ready. It stopped the attack, but flung all three of them back, together with their steeds.

A vast distance opened up between the sides of the conflict, across which they stared. Xipe-Totec struggled to breathe. Not only was there the hole in his chest that Zelos had made, the regeneration fighting against the decay, but his throat had also been blown to bits by his very own attack.

On their side, the three Horsemen got up and dusted off, immediately ready to continue. Xipe-Totec was undead, but he was not like them. They had the blessing of the Grim Reaper, the guarantee of immortality that would keep them moving forever. Even if they failed, they would rise again to fi-

A rippling boom went through the Sanctum.

It was a foreshock of something even larger. The entirety of the fabric of magic creaked around them. Prismatic fault lines appeared and disappeared in the air. The ground and the sky bent towards each other, almost meeting at the horizon. The balance of the god-lock had just changed and Zelos felt… mortal.

“No…” he whispered.

Xipe-Totec laughed. He laughed and laughed and laughed, beating the sand of the beach and the purple ocean that stirred next to it. “YES! YESSSSSS! MORE FOR THE ETERNAL SANCTUM!” In great and terrible prayer, the Flayer Lord raised his arms to the heavens. “GLORY TO THE GREAT DEVOURER! GLORY TO THE GLUTTON THAT ATE DEATH!”

The Horsemen collapsed to their knees.