Loses Himsrlf

Death couldn’t help but spend a moment circling, staring with unabashed astonishment at the wake of devastation slicing through the figures below. War, as far as his older brother could determine, had lost himself fully to the havoc of battle. Not merely the initial trio of Knights of Perdition, but two more of those hellish warriors—as well as several dozen lesser demons of various and sundry types—littered the battlefield.

Literally littered the battlefield, as not a single one of them lay in any fewer than three pieces.
Chaoseater moved so swiftly it seemed to form a solid arc. War’s cloak streamed behind him in tatters; his armor, scored and blackened, smoked visibly in the somewhat lighter haze; blood streamed from a veritable legion of wounds scattered across his body. The younger Horseman didn’t appear to care, or even to have noticed. A dull reverberation echoed from the whirling figure, and Death was stunned to realize that what he heard was nothing less than a continuous, breathless battle cry.

It was, the airborne Rider realized with a faint twinge in his gut, a damn good thing that they weren’t counting on any meticulous plans or tactics for the remainder of the struggle. War didn’t seem sentient enough anymore to follow them; and in any effort to halt him in his tracks, Death wasn’t certain that even he would come out the victor.

***

The Abomination Vault, Chapter 22