A wave of nausea swept over followed closely by an ear-splitting pain ripped through Ryondel’s head, causing the malevolent laughter to die in his throat. It had been a long time since he had felt such discomfort and he knew exactly where it came from. Once upon a time, before achieving his near god-like powers, if DarkStrike had used a spell of such strength, he could be rendered unconscious by the amount of energy it drained from him; in fact, if he attempted something too far beyond his abilities, it could kill him.Could you please remove your post TB. Thanks in advance.
Grandstand much? Despite the cynicism, Morgoth’s concern was apparent.
Might’ve been too much, was Ryondel’s reply.
Might?
Shut it.
All in all though, it had been worth it; a single powerful spell was all it had taken to eliminate every combatant down on the field, or so he thought. Your senses are dulling, master, Morgoth’s thought intruded upon DarkStrike’s sense of triumph. Taking his index and middle fingers from both hands, he massaged his temples as the pain in his head began to subside and pass into nothing. He Sent a mental inquiry to the meaning of his companion’s statement, and whatever he had assumed Morgoth meant; it was not what demon said next.
Something neutralized the bulk of your spell, all targets are still active. DarkStrike did not understand it; how could something have simply neutralized his magic? A wave of indignant fury blotted out his rationality and he dove. Dropping beneath the clouds, he entered the rough winds of the light storm that mulled over the battlefield. His eyes narrowed as he assessed the situation. A ring of rubble and debris surrounded the area around his intended targets, but the arena remained untouched for the most part. Ryondel watched as Honuse struggled with his footing, but then performing an acrobatic move, the avatar stood ready to meet any further attacks.
Ryondel knew that one of the opponents that had come to face the Whole Glory was responsible for the negation of the Spectral energy, but which one? He didn’t know, so he did the next best thing: he guessed. Pulling Bane from the sheath upon his back, he let it maintain its two-handed long sword form and dove at the elf. As the last remnants of the nausea and pain passed, he leveled out, just above the branches, moving toward the airborne girl in the direction opposite and parallel to that which she was traveling and aimed a wide sweeping blow at her head, making sure to keep the girl between him and the old man fighting Honuse.
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