Maxim vs. Marilène Leclair

Sporting Event / Competition

The last match to grace the flower-littered sands of the arena had been "refreshingly simple," but things were about to take a dark turn. Knight Commander Maxim, leader of The Wolfpack mercenary organization took to the field to face his opponent, Marilène Leclair of Sancta Sedes. Maxim was known to many as a powerful warrior who had defied death itself. Marilène, in contrast, was a green Deacon of the church with little combat experience to her name. She had survived the ordeal at the Palace of the Firebird, however. Perhaps she did stand some chance.

Before the match had officially begun, Marilène hailed her opponent with hopes that he had considered the Exarch's suggestion regarding the soul of Akechi Mitsuhide. It was not too late, she claimed, to save his immortal soul. Maxim knew that immortal, half-digested soul was now languishing inside Hashinara Yoshitakatomo's mask. Perhaps wisely, he said nothing. Sensing that the two had said all they would, Kikkawa no Myōkyū called a start to the round.   Maxim rushed forward, intent on sparing no mercy even against an enemy at such a disadvantage. He struck once, twice, and three times with an enormous, two-handed blade, pressuring Marilène to dodge each one. The first two she managed successfully, passing up her opportunity to counter in favor of focusing on defense. Maxim's third strike cut deeply into her flesh, however. It was not a mortal wound, but not one which Marilène could easily shrug off, either. When the onslaught had slowed, she finally put her strength into a blow, swinging the two-handed axe she carried at Maxim's shoulder. Unsurprisingly, the knight's deft defense and solid armor defied any effect the attack might have had.   Her fears confirmed, Marilène knew now that she had no chance to win this conflict. She might yet, however, fulfill a separate goal. Dropping her axe on the ground, she clasped her hands together and began to recite a litany in a language few recognized. In the stands, Takayama Ukon was able to confirm for Ryūzaki Sanosuke that this was no spell or secret technique. Marilène was merely uttering a heartfelt prayer in Latin. Maxim, however, had no such advice upon which to fall. Taking the ritualistic litany as a sign of impending doom, he offered her one last chance to yield. When she continued her prayer without answer, Maxim swung with all his might at the chanting girl.   Marilène did not dodge. Maxim's Hokkuken cut through her thigh and up with a tremendous thunderclap, crushing her body and spreading what remained across the field in front of him. Absolutely no doubt remained that Marilène was completely, utterly dead. Maxim had his reasons for performing it, but to the watching audience his attack had seemed a brutish action. A shocked hush fell over the crowd, broken only by Gualdim Pais finishing his fallen acolyte's prayer. "Amen."   Fubuki preempted any action on the Mōri Clan's part. Moving so quickly into the arena that she* seemed to teleport, she* touched Marilène's scattered body and invoked the power of Amaterasu to make it whole once more. The fallen deaconess was still grievously injured, but her soul no longer fluttered temptingly before the hungry eyes of Ketzi'ah in the stands.   Francine Xavier descended to the field and took up Marilène's broken body in her hands, thanking Fubuki and asserting that Sancta Sedes themselves would take it from here. Zōta, too, chimed in that their religion did not usually look favorably upon resurrections of the sort Fubuki had just performed. This, however, was a generous exception. It seemed to them that Marilène had foolishly attempted to get herself killed, an "assisted martyrdom" to secure her place in the halls of Samayim. To Zōta, it was more likely that what she had done would be seen as an "assisted suicide," damning her soul to torment in Gehenna instead. Fubuki's actions had spared her that fate, although Marilène would need to do much to repent.   Maxim faced the situation stolidly. It seemed as though things had gotten away from him, and he couldn't help but feel some guilt at the ugly turn his match had taken. It was in a morbid silence not dissimilar to that which had come over Honda Tadakatsu's match that he trudged back to his place in the stands. Maxim had won, but at what cost?