"You know what I think would have been more fair?" Ashtoreth said. "If, in consideration of how badly the System robbed us when it cut us off before the demiplane exploded, it made War and Famine fight each other."

"That would have been nice," Dazel said. "But alas. It was not to be."

The clock was ticking down. With only minutes until the fight would begin, there wasn't much time to discuss tactics, but that was fine by Ashtoreth; they'd already had fairly involved conversations about how she'd be approaching the fights the night before, and nothing had happened to change that.

"Hopefully everything will work out the way we wanted and I'll get to eat their hearts," she said. "Maybe then I can find out if Heaven really has a bunch of shenanigans that it's using to influence the system."

"I wonder how angel meat tastes," said Dazel.

"Well maybe I can save you some strips off the belly," said Ashtoreth.

"Probably not," said Dazel. "The System will be warping you in and out, right? You're gonna have to nab that belly fat pretty fast."

"I'll do my best," she said. Then she looked around the ballroom. "Say, where is Famine? He should be here somewhere."

"Why's it matter?"

"I could talk to him," she said. "Maybe get some insights on how to beat him."

"I've got some ideas," said Dazel. "The first is that you throw him a baked potato and just say 'fixed.'"

"I already did a potato joke," she said.

"I know, I remember. Famine wasn't there for that, though. Plus I like mine more."

"If you insist."

"Okay, real strategy," said Dazel. "Listening?"

"I'm all ears."

"He likely weakens in the presence of sparrows," Dazel said.

Ashtoreth rolled her eyes. "Look, this all feels like it's in pretty bad taste."

"It's Famine," said Dazel. "If you're worried about taste, you've got the wrong priorities."

She failed to suppress a smile. "Dazel! I like to riff as much as the next archfiend, but what have we got for material, here? Historic famines? Eating disorders, maybe? Not exactly a barrel of laughs."

"Joan Rivers could have managed it, I'm sure," Dazel said. Then his voice dropped to a hasty whisper. "Oh, shit—that's him! Here he comes."

Ashtoreth looked to see that a black-robed figure had appeared at one end of the ballroom and begun to approach. It was the same man she'd briefly fought at the nexus bastion, though now she got a closer look at him.

He was skeletally thin and pale, resembling his comrade Death more than his other two brothers-in-arms. Beneath the robe he had on a worn, three-piece suit. His eyes had a kind of vacancy to them, so that even as he looked straight at Ashtoreth, she felt like he was looking through her.

"Quick," Dazel whispered. "Psych him out by giving him body confidence."

Ashtoreth raised a hand to her mouth. "You're stunning!" she shouted.

"Maybe spend less time on social media!" Dazel added.

Famine's expression didn't change as he approached them, then spoke in a rasp.

"My brother was charitable with his praise," he said. "He lowered himself in order to exalt you, and you denied him. You are a wayward ant… and yet you insulted him."

"Well there's two sides to every story, you know?" Ashtoreth said. "And I gotta say, I think your brother was pretty dang rude back there."

Famine's face was blank and expressionless, his eyes wide. "When I am finished with you," he said. "Your fat flesh will hang limp off your tiny bones. It will be… succulent. Sumptuous. Plump."

His eyes seemed to grow more vacant as he spoke, glazing over as his attention drifted into his imagination. "And yet… I will resist. I will not partake. Though my flesh… this curated flesh, this disciplined flesh, will hunger for you… I will deny it."

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"Uh, okay," Ashtoreth said. "Sorry—is your head in the game, here? You're giving off a really weird energy."

"I think he's hangry," said Dazel. "Try giving him a snackers cup, or whatever they're called."

"It will be agony," Famine whispered, still staring as he raising a gloved hand to dab away the drool that had begun to gather at the corner of his mouth with a handkerchief. His eyes seemed to glitter with a fevered intensity. "Utter agony."

Then he turned and strode away from her.

"Yeah, sure," she said. Then she raised a hand to her mouth again. "I loved you in Wicked!"

"I don't get it," Dazel said.

"You know," Ashtoreth said. "I think we might actually be bad people."

"Yeah," Dazel said. "You're definitely going straight to Hell when you die."

She laughed. "He seemed a little… different, though."

"Definitely," Dazel said. "It sounded like starvation was sort of a hang-up for him. Like, a real… thing. A special interest, if you get my meaning."

"A weird sex thing," she said, nodding knowingly. "Promise me that if I do die, you won't let him eat my corpse."

"Wait a second, though," said Dazel. "It's not eating your corpse that gets him his jollies."

Her eyes widened. "You're right," she said. She furrowed her brow. "A true knight's fork, this is. I'll just have to win so as not to face the cannibal's dilemma."

"The non-cannibal's dilemma," Dazel corrected. "We're the real cannibals, here."

"Respectable cannibals," she said, nodding.

"You think he just came off that way on purpose to psych you out?"

"Maybe," she said. "He was literally drooling, though. If the tummy masochist act was fake, it was a good one."

"There's a phrase," said Dazel. "It's a tummy masochist versus a respectable cannibal. Only on pay-per-view."

Ashtoreth moved back to the other side of the ballroom, rejoining her people as the clock counted down to only three minutes.

"Good luck," said Frost. "I know you don't need it, but good luck."

"Thanks!" she said.

"Yeah," said Kylie. "Break a leg. Shouldn't be too hard—malnourishment already seems to have done half the job for you, with bones like his."

Ashtoreth grinned. "It's gonna be like squeezing a fistful of twigs!"

"I still wish I could fight with you," said Hunter. "But it's nice to watch you work, in any case. Good luck."

"Another day, Hunter!"

It wasn't much longer before the timer struck 0:00.

The world darkened as it rushed away from Ashtoreth, who found herself standing in the middle of a massive arena just a moment later. Curiously, it was modeled after a colosseum from Hell, with high walls flanking a circular pit of polished stone, the stands rising above them.

Famine stood next to his horse across from her, almost 50 meters away.

They stared each other down.

The problem with Ashtoreth having to face down the Horsemen was that both of them knew she was at a disadvantage. The Horsemen had higher stats per level from their race, and likely much higher from his class.

Worst of all, he knew what he was doing. A poorer fighter might have played it safe in Famine's situation, might have engaged in a typical fashion while waiting for Ashtoreth to try to seize the upper hand. But Famine was experienced and skilled. He would try his own tricks to seize the initiative, had doubtless thought about the opening moments of this fight just as much as she had.

Her locket had seven hearts stored inside, but they were the hearts of regular infernals, not the hearts of massive bosses. She'd eaten the very last boss heart that she'd brought out of the scenarios that morning, a colossus heart that gave massive physical stats.

Still, with her hearts and her [Bloodfire Well] she had an abundance of resources, something that had always been one of her strengths. She wanted to believe that this gave her a distinct advantage over Famine, who seemed to have been built specifically around denial, depleting resources and countering abilities.

But she was somewhat worried that a resource-heavy build like hers was exactly the sort of thing he might thrive against. After all, without any [Bloodfire] Ashtoreth was dead in the water. And if Famine could strip away either of her major buffs, [Devoured Flesh] or [Bloodfire Boon], she'd lose an edge.

There was no mistaking that the general shape of the fight had already been decided for both of them, and both of them knew it. She would try to kill him before he could run her out of resources. He would try to survive as she did, then kill her once she ran out of juice.

Not exactly a perfect environment for surprises.

He also had spells. True, her build was much better at killing spellcasters than warriors, but spells were so broad in their applications that they had a habit of feeling like they were cheat codes. She had no idea what sudden nonsense Famine was going to pull out of nowhere, whereas the same was not true in reverse.

Though she did have one new ability that would hopefully give him a surprise.

In fact, she was counting on it.

They stared at one another for several long, quiet seconds.

Then Famine began to raise his scales as his horse began to charge, and Ashtoreth leapt into the air.

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