Was this the extent of our opponent’s power? A mere weapons’ user who could do nothing more than cower behind a statue after being the victim of storm’s electrical retaliation? Indeed a shame it was that the collective whole of Althanian fighters were dropping off in quality by the year. A plethora of ‘wanna-be’ warriors gracing the green glades, snow plains, high mountaintops, and vast deserts of this planet could be likened to a mephitic gas ripping the life away from anatomical and biological life forms all around the globe. Yet the masses cheered on, uncaring as to the lack of adeptness from these staff, sword, or stick swinging fools. In their obvious intoxication, they yelled, roared, screamed, pissed, crapped, and vomited all in enjoyment of the moment. But if I wasn’t enjoying myself, then in no wise did anybody else have the privilege to enjoy themselves.

Still atop the corner of the roof, several minutes had passed by with our opponent still taking advantage of his refuge behind that statue. The attention of the crowd had turned toward Storm urging him to finish the job and take out the cowardly man. My eyes could’ve shifted to see what Veritas’ reaction to all of this would be, but I was much too infuriated by the fact that attention had swung so quickly from me. Strange was this feeling, especially since I hadn’t suffered an attack from this emotion since I was but a young teenager. Was I gradually reverting back to some of my old ways? Or had I inadvertently succumbed to being the 'show-puppet' of the elderly executive at Serenti? I did not know for sure, nor did I really care to know at this time. Mother was still the ultimate priority, even over finding and killing Thoracis as fulfillment of a mission I’d accepted from a member of my old Alerarian squadron ‘Kyorl’ before Serenti had begun.

“I don’t know what Storm is doing but he’s irritating me,” Thinking of a way to swing the attention of the crowd back in my favor, I let out a great roar, rivaled only by stout lions. “Blood shall be spilt! And his corpse shall be burnt!!!” The men of the audience heard my statement loud and clear and roared with me, empowered by the violent imagery that my words provided them.
Raising my arms up into the air, I underwent my transformation again, sprouting leathery black wings. Some of the people nearby grew fearful, seeing this side of me up close. Their terror led them to flee the battle scene and find asylum for the thought of death was all too real for them. Their departure could’ve bothered me but I did not allow it to, since there were only but an insignificant few that left; numbers which didn’t really affect the massive audience.

Moving my hands in a circular fashion, a ring of fire that was four feet in diameter formed. The men and women looking upon it “oohed” and “ahhed”, attracted by the burning halo, probably thinking it to resemble a torched hoop that circus clowns on a unicycle would often juggle. If that were the case, then they would soon realize just how wrong they were for my ring was a tool of destruction with the sole purpose of incinerating lives and snapping family ties.

“This shall be your end!!” I yelled toward my opponent, guiding the ring of fire over the statue and commanding it to descend, hoping that it would cook the frightened man who truly had the odds stacked against him.