"Alexander!"

The shout cut through the cacophony of war like the knife it was. It cleaved into Alexander Anderson and he flinched before turning around to face the man addressing him.

"Father Renaldo." Don't do this, Marco. Don't make me kill you, too.

"You killed him." Anderson flinched again at the grief and rage in the older priest's voice.

"I had to. He was mad."

Renaldo rushed Anderson and the big man barely stepped aside when the other priest's knives slashed out at him. He was unbalanced both mentally and physically by the attack and teetered on his heels for a moment before catching himself and spinning out of the way of Renaldo's own spinning slashes.

"You have no – " Slash. "Room –" Slash and spin. Renaldo's knives caught one of Anderson's bayonets and a deft twist sent his blade flying out of his hand. "To judge –" A painful slash that opened the tall priest's side. "Madness." Anderson's body swayed backward just enough to avoid losing his right eye and Renaldo's blade left a burning trail across his cheek.

Anderson pulled another blade from nothingness to replace the one that Renaldo had sent flying. Anderson had greater strength and reach – what he didn't have was greater will. He did not want to hurt Father Renaldo, whereas Renaldo wanted to see Anderson dead.

"Marco. Please." He fought strictly to keep from harming or being harmed.

Renaldo pressed his attack. His blades were blurs and Anderson's greater reach did not prevent him from penetrating the taller priest's defenses, but it did prevent him from doing more than superficial damage before having to draw out of reach of Anderson's bayonets. Anderson used a move Renaldo had taught him to send the older priest's knife flying much as Renaldo had done with Anderson's bayonet earlier.

Much as Anderson had done, Renaldo pulled a shining replacement out of nowhere and readied himself for another attack. He was a sinner. He let himself sink into wrath, wrapping it around himself to keep him warm. Enrico had been like a son to him. He had thought that Anderson had loved Maxwell the same way, but he was clearly wrong.

His glance flicked behind Anderson where Dracula, his vampiric daughter and the Hellsing woman watched as though they were putting on dinner theater for them. It was the woman. Anderson's fall had started with her. His eyes widened and he glared at Anderson.

"You betrayed your Church, your archbishop and your friends for her! Enrico died because of that bitch!" Renaldo threw one of his knives and watched Anderson jerk back from the pain while he pulled the blade out of his throat and tossed it aside.

His voice was like broken glass for his first few words while his throat healed, "Do not speak of her that way. Enrico died because he was mad with power, not because of Integral Hellsing."

"She's as good as dead." Renaldo ducked under a slash his words provoked. Ah, so this was the way to draw Anderson out. "You see how the vampire fawns over her. You can't defeat him." He grunted when a bayonet caught his left arm and his knife fell from his nerveless fingers.

"He'll have her…ask yourself if that corpse of a slut is worth dying for."

Anderson's eyes glazed and his lips pulled back from his teeth. "Worth dying for," he affirmed.

Writ flew out of his coat and swarmed Renaldo, pinning him to the ground.

"Worth killing for."

Anderson stood over the man who had once been his teacher and continued speaking. Renaldo realized that Anderson's words were not meant for him after all.

"Worth going to hell for."

The priest glared at the vampire, who returned the look with equal venom.

"Amen."

The quote:
Priest: ...ask yourself if that corpse of a slut is worth dying for.
Marv: Worth dying for.
shoots priest
Marv: Worth killing for.
shoots him again
Marv: Worth going to hell for.
shoots him again
Marv: Amen.