Jester's attack had been skillfully dodged, an effort not too much to his surprise. Flipping backwards, he merely dodged the Myotismon's attacks. He felt the powerful beam of energy nearly slash against his body, a fatal blow at it's least. The blade managed to slash some of his clothing on his chest, but no major deep wounds.

Standing a few feet away from the vampire, Jester clapped his hands very slowly. He began to laugh slowly, before he was interrupted by his own voice. "Brav-o, Bravo!" Taking seven swords from seemingly nowhere, he threw them in all different directions. Each of the swords stuck into the walls around the ring, perfectly straight. "Content with dying huh? You better be, kid!" With his words, the floor began to fill up with a deep blue sludge.

Jester was gone once more, but his laughter could be heard faintly in the distance. The sludge filled up to about one's knees, before moving to the center of the rink. It made disgusting, slithering sounds, like a slimy snake being dragged across clean tile floor. The smell.....like rotting fish and ancient trash. It was a very familiar smell.

The slime began to twist and spazz in the center of the ring until it began to take a very vague form. The form failed to take shape the first time, the whole body splashing back down on the ground. The sludge then tried to get back up, desperately, and succeeded this time around. The form began to take shape, a rather familiar form that looked like a rotting carcass.

Raremon.

The vile beast opened it's mouth wide, and gasped as it tried to speak. Sludge dipped on the ground as he attempted to do this. He was still reforming on the inside, so speech at this point was not possible. His eyes came from behind the metal plates and came into place.

"Y-you! D-die!" Were the only words uttered from the disgusting creature before it lifted up one of it's clawed arms and slammed it down towards the top of the vampire's head.

[[Initiate Raremon Battle Theme]]

The "Bloody Stream" attack was aimed directly at Raremon. There was no way that the large blob of sludge would be able to dodge such an attack. Not even attempting to dodge, the behemoth simply opened up it's large rotting mouth. The beam of pure dark energy shot fourth, making a direct hit inside of it's mouth.

Raremon began to bubble up, and then he began to bloat greatly. His sides puffed out to a great distance, almost touching the spikes. If his bloated body would have touched one of those sharp objects; he would've popped much like a balloon. Instead, his body imploded in a sudden rush and regained it's previous form. Letting out a resounding roar, the monstrosity was now back to it's completed shape.

"You think that you can defeat me that easily? Become much stronger I am! Simple attacks will no phase me!" Stomping both claws at this, Raremon made the whole tent shake. Several props fell to the floor, such as lights and support beams. The objects that hit the ground made a loud clank, and the ones that hit Raremon simply bounced off of him.

Inhaling some air, the vile beast began to puff up slightly. "BREATH OF DECAY!" The monster said as it began to exhale air, the same that he took in. It was a green color, a poisonous gas had been expelled from the creature's mouth. It then became concentrated, and rushed towards the target. Myotismon.

"Still want the sword, boy? Look behind you!" Jester's voice said, coming from directly behind Marcus. If he were to turn around, he would see not Jester, but a pair of sturdy metal doors. The doors hide a dark abyss. A narrow bridge went over the abyss, but that's about it.

But there was more there then met the eye.

The sword. The boy would not be coming for it, that's for sure. Instead, the sword would coming for him. This was meant in a literal way, as the final sword was lingering above the flimsy bridge. As soon as the demon boy set foot on the bridge, the sword shot down, tip up. If was aiming for the direct center of the bridge, and was flying into it like a dart at a dartboard. It grew closer and closer, at incredible speeds. The metal of the sword shined from the open door's reflection. It was possibly the only thing that could identify this falling object.

CRACK!

The sword made a direct hit, and chopped the bridge in half. The thin roped bridge caved in, and anything on it would be forced to a drop. A drop into the dark abyss. At the bottom was what one would guess to be a Colosseum or arena. Even larger then the above ring, it was a wonder that such things could be constructed. The entire floor was covered in a soft sand, and the stands down here seemed to be filled with dark figures.

However, the center of the arena was empty. Just the soft sand of the arena.

-----

All of the fallen objects were now being flung towards the Raremon. In every direction, this attack could not be avoided. The non-sharp objects simply bounced off of him, but the latter sunk into his sludge skin like a knife cutting butter. It seemed to do nothing, however.

Until...

The vile beast began to bloat, and then bubble like a pot of boiling water. The bubbles then began to pop one by one, until the main body began to burst. A painful roar was heard, until Raremon popped. Disgusting sludge was spread throughout the ring, covering nearly every spot.

The whole ring....would smell terrible if this mess was not cleaned up at once.

[[Sorry, this was forced out]]

The Colosseum. It seems as if the final opponent had fallen into place. All according to plan. The Piedmon sat back in his "throne". This throne was were an emperor would sit to watch the gladiatorial games. He sipped on a glass of fine red wine as he watched the two quarrel. In his other hand, he played with the sword that Marcus sought to find oh so much.

[[Jester Theme]]

Placing his glass down, and dropping the sword, Jester stood up and began to lightly clap. Like that of an amused golf fan, cheerful yet boring at the same time. Looking down upon the two with great amusement in his eyes. "Very well, very well!"

Finished with his clapping, he gave a "thumbs up". I sign to begin the fight. Or maybe it signaled something else. Putting his hand down, his body can down into the throne in an almost mechanical motion. Nothing shall distract this fight, the clown would throw nothing at the Demon Boy. He has already thrown more then Jester could upon himself. Himself.

Twirling the sword, and drinking the wine, he would simply watch this battle as a spectator. However, the winner would not live for long. As the victor shall fall to his cruel hands.

[[More or less of a post to update you on Jester's location. I'm going to post randomly throughout your battle, but not interfere. I will throw Jester back in after your fight.]]