Wha—

Emile held his hand forward, facing up and open palmed. Moments later, a snowstorm erupted in his hand and his scimitar appeared.

Simultaneously, a similar phenomena occurred around his neck until the distinct shape of a cloud formed and hung from a nearly white, silver chain.

Before Willow could summon her own, light drowned the underground hellscape and Emile poured essence into his charm.

Quicker than sound, Emile burst across the vast openness and appeared inches away from Willow—his arm cocked, his gaze fierce.

Emile didn't hold back. Gripping his sword with two hands, Emile slammed his weapon down over his head as hard as he could.

He was about to hit Willow, about to reap her constant victories away from her, but then a loud ting reverberated throughout Emile's body.

His body shook uncontrollably as if he was being electrocuted and the spasms didn't stop. Before he could get his muscles under control, Willow finished summoning her gear.

As Emile's arms fell to the side he saw what his sword hit, the pristine golden gauntlets of Willow's angelic armor. And the worst part of it all, they weren't even scratched by Emile.

Willow advanced, taking one, heavy step forward and plunged her fist into Emile's gut. A shockwave erupted, dust exploded off the floor and dirtied the air.

Meanwhile, Emile exploded out of that dust like a bullet. He shot into the air and crashed into the ceiling, completely piercing the sky and breaking through to the other side.

Leaning up and looking around, Emile didn't recognize anything. The environment was still hellish; lava flowed downstream and steam occasionally erupted from hidden geysers in the ground—or ceiling—Emile wasn't sure anymore.

As he went to stand up the ground shook, a scarily strong earthquake was approaching. The ground beneath him cracked and a single, long break connected to the hole he came through.

The moment it did, everything fell. The ground beneath his feet, the pits of steam trapped in the ground, and the sluggishly slow magma were all sucked into the hole.

As he fell back down, Emile grabbed onto a larger piece of stone and held it firmly, using it like a bodyboard while he rode the air down.

Unfortunately, Willow caught a glimpse of him in the debris.

She stabbed her hand into the stone ground, cracking and piercing the stone like it was a thin layer of glass. She curled her wrist and began pulling.

Suddenly more cracks erupted beneath her until Willow pulled a massive chunk of the stone from the ground. Eight, possibly nine feet wide and thicker than a Blizzard from DQ, Willow tossed the boulder into the air and wound her hammer back.

As the boulder began to slowly fall back down she lined up the shot.

Then, she swung.

And an ear-shattering sonic boom imploded the moment her hammer hit the rock. The rock immediately shattered into millions of small and sharp shards that propelled towards Emile.

The stone fragments obliterated the falling debris, completely and utterly ripping them to shreds and Emile was no different.

The razor sharp stone pieces tore into his skin, ripping his body apart like a shredder. In a matter of moments, Emile resembled a blood soaked tiger, but his stripes were gnashes in his skin and instead of orange, his figure was painted crimson.

Although difficult to find a positive, the impact of thousands of small shards propelled Emile across the cavern and into the outer wall.

He slammed into the wall, catching himself feet first and without a delay white light erupted.

Emile soared across the air and crashed into Willow, his blade pushed against the hammer's handle.

For just a moment, the two refrained from moving and focused all their attention on this one battle of strength.

On one side, Emile's eyes were turning pink, his veins were protruding and his face was reddening—he didn't have time to take a breath, he was too busy straining every cell in his body to output as much force as possible.

Meanwhile, on the other side, Willow's face was hidden behind her golden helmet's visor, but her arms weren't shaking like Emiles, nor were her breaths heavy or coarse.

She lifted one hand off her hammer, all the while still dominating Emile's strength and preventing him from advancing. She pushed her visor up, revealing her slightly blushed, fair skin.

"Hey—" Willow suddenly spoke, "I think you're cute."

Emile looked into Willow's eyes. He relaxed his muscles and loosened his grip.

"Wha—" but before he could spit it out, Willow strengthened her pressure and slammed her hammer down on top of Emile.

The face of her hammer made contact with Emile's skull and instantaneously he was shot into the ground like a cannon.

Instead of the ground shattering and a crater forming, Emile hit the ground so hard and so fast that his body embedded itself in the stone. Like a snow angel, Emile fit perfectly in the scorching stone.

In addition to the constant burning of his skin, Emile was perfectly encased. He could neither push nor pull himself out, he was stuck in the ground.

Willow crouched down beside him, her visor still open. She placed the tip of her finger on Emile's chest and, using her two fingers like legs, walked along Emile's chest towards his face.

She eventually touched his chin and hopped across his lips. Then she maneuvered her index finger behind her thumb and gently flicked Emile's nose:

"I win," she said playfully as a beautiful smile arced itself across her red lips.

"You win," Emile said dejectedly as a heavy sigh was squeezed out of his lungs.