The desire demon cries out as Maketh's sword slices into its legs, and Henry forces his sluggish limbs to move. His own blade catches it in the side, but he is too slow to cut deep enough for a mortal blow as the desire demon floats back.

"I am trying!" Henry snarls in frustration as he attempts to pursue the demon, leading with his sword.

Warmth is slow to return to his body and that temporarily hampers his normal speed.

It might seem strange that with the small distance it wins the desire demon chooses to begin dancing seductively, but that is only until its curse hits.

Just when he thinks he is close enough to finish this fight once and for all, Henry is knocked off his feet by the demon's magic. For a moment his eyelids are unbearably heavy and his mind fogged, and he almost falls asleep -- but he cannot let it sink him back into his fancies, lest he never wake from them. He hits the flat of his sword against his thigh, letting the harmless burst of pain ground him, allowing him to shake off the drowsiness. He struggles back to his feet, ignoring the continued sting of the desire demon's curse -- magic has never had the power to stall him for long.

This time, he is determined, he will aim to strike off the demon's head.