Ragnarok: Primitus Congressus

[Liliana Ambria]

Following the rules of the Ragnarok storyline, this story takes place out of the normal time line of the characters involved. They will display abilities and speak of events that have not yet come to light. This is intentional and beyond their mentioning or use we do not expect them to actually be used outside the scope of the Ragnarok story arc. Therefore any powergaming or Bunnying has been preapproved by both parties.

Salvar - A weeks journey from Knife's Edge 2022 DW

Two weeks after Ragnarok: By Demons be Driven (http://www.althanas.com/world/showthread.php?t=18411).

"Cheer up love, you did fine."

The words hung in the air as a gentle hand rested upon a coat clad shoulder. The hand was slender and a pale white, a rosy tint graced it at the back of the hand, and briefly at the finger tips. It gently brushed away snow that had fallen upon the shoulder, and with luck, the chip that had been there since her companion had left Knife's Edge.

"I still don't like that he goaded me into such a battle. I felt like a bull being lead by the nose. A little longer and he could have probably had me use every spell in my arsenal, just because he goaded me into it," The man replied. Brown hair was left in an unruly mess about his head. His gray eyes flashed softly in guilt. With a simple turn of his head he was looking into the brown eyes of his companion, searching for her forgiveness.

"Seth, when I tell you to fight, I understand you're going to fight. Don't feel guilty for doing what you had to, you're a big boy after all. I know at times you'll get particularly ruthless, and I accept that. You can't shy away from the power within you, merely because you don't feel you can handle it," The words were softly, and Seth felt lips brush gently against his cheek after their passing. She was right of course, she usually was.

"I fear the power inside of me; I fear that it'll take me over again if I rely too heavily on it. I nearly killed you once with it, and that was a day I hope never to emulate," Seth replied cupping her cheek. They had paused on the roads that lead them to the mountains between Alerar and Salvar. Their journey wasn't particularly hard, a mere annoyance at best. But after the fight in Knife’s Edge, Seth’s cover was blown, and no self respecting captain would take the thief onboard his ship. This of course led to them leaving Knife’s Edge, the only port town in Salvar that could take them to Otaria, and heading down into Alerar.

"Seth, remember that fear. It is good you fear the power within you, because that fear will keep you vigilant. You didn't respect the power within you, and so you fell to its allure, its too easy to remember how powerful you are, than to remember how weak as well," Liliana said reassuringly.

A third man had been following them, and seeing the swordsman was always a trying time for Seth. Karel Hector Raven, the mysterious Saint of Swords, a man who less than a month ago had tried to kill Seth, was now journeying with the thief. During the time Seth had been recovering from his fight in Knife's Edge against Regal Bursnwidth, the notorious killer known as the Demon of Swords, Karel had formed a truce with Liliana. It merely put Seth on edge to be so close to a man who he had been trying to slaughter in a handful of weeks.

However with the affectionate display, Karel spoke up his voice creating a fog in the air at the chill of winter, "There is an old saying amongst the Kensai, 'Those who do not fear the blade, are unworthy to wield it.' Seth, while you have great power, you must learn to control it, and may only do so by working with it, and learning its limits. If you fear it, and respect the power it brings, it cannot consume you again."

"Easy for you to say Saint, your techniques aren't condemned by the majority of the world," Seth's voice was thick with sarcasm, showing his disdain at the Saint's intervention. Liliana gently slapped his chest with a flat palm before she looked into Seth's eyes.

"Go easy on Karel, he's not used to your brand of humor. Further, he's our ally now, you don't need to treat him as an enemy," Her voice was chiding, but even in her eyes he could see a hint of amusement at Seth's address of the supposed holy figure to warriors.

It was at that time a billowing cloud of vapor could be seen behind Karel. As the Sword Saint turned he gave a rare smile to the girl who had finally caught up to the group. Seth had insisted on journeying at a solid clip, and the poor girl was not quite as able to keep up with the group as Karel. Liliana, who was used to Seth's journeying pace, was perhaps the only one able to keep up and not seem to be running.

Seth looked up at the sun before he spoke, "Well, time for talk can keep going for five minutes while we give the girl a break. Then we should just keep going, I want to be on Alerian soil by dusk."

[Zantetsuken]

Karel gripped Bethany closer to him, and the young lass adjusted to be nearer to her love. The two locked fingers and Karel gave her a reassuring nod. She hadn’t been one hundred percent on board for the idea of traveling with the man that almost took her beloved Saint of Swords away. But Karel could be certain of one thing, and that was the man had lost a lot of the edge to his demeanor. It was as if he was more human like to the sword saint.

The chill wind of Salavar gripped him tightly, and he watched the soft leaves blow on the ground around him, swirling at his feet like tiny beggars. “How much farther, Liliana?” Karel asked the native of the frozen lands. She turned her head, a look of fatigue on her features from the nonstop traveling they had been doing for days on end.

“Not much more than a few hours. We just have to walk through the ice caves of the Northern Pass, and we will be an hours walk away from our goal.” She looked to Bethany and gave her a soft smile. The two woman had bonded over the vicious nature of Karel and Seth, laughing off the worst threats they threw at the two, making sport of their pride. It was also learned in that time Bethany had much knowledge of the Seraphs of Sintyre and the work they had done.

Karel and Seth never talked much. They just grumbled words of greeting when needed, and covered each others backs in a fight when local thugs thought they could take on the small band of warriors. Yet once in awhile the did have a talk about the actions that went around them, but never about what happened only a month prior. It was a rift that Karel knew one day they needed to work out, but for now walking and polite conversation was about all Karel and Seth seemed to tolerate at the time.

Bethany tugged Karel’s arm, pulling him down to her level. She was a head shorter than the blue coated swordsman, and she had to get up on her tip toes just to reach his ear. Her breath was warm and inviting against his cold skin as she whispered into his ear.

“You need to really relax, my love.” She leaned in kissing his cheek, flushing his face turning it a rosy red. “I’m not expecting you two to love each other as brothers, but I don’t want this tension. You know how it makes me nervous.” Karel took in a heavy sigh, and he looked forward at Seth, who gave him a curt glance, his eyes narrowing in challenge. Liliana tugged on his arm, and the two’s eyes parted ways.

“Tell that to him.” Karel growled lowly to the brunette. “He’s been a stubborn ass this whole trip.” Bethany ran a hand up Karel’s chest letting his tension fuel into her. She let her hand drop to his belt line and tapped her fingers on his chest. Karel’s eyes looked down to her, and he saw a very sly grin that would make a fox blush.

“I think I know how to get you to behave…” She whispered tapping his belt buckle. Karel let out one aggravated sigh. He looked back to Seth and felt his choler rise, but her fingers ran a little lower. “Just behave, I’m not going to ask for miracles. Just behave and…” her lips spoke the words without sound, and Karel felt his blood rise.

“Considering we hit the ridge line, deal.” Karel said happily walking up to Liliana and Seth. “I take it this is the place?” Liliana nodded once. “Okay then, let’s do this.” Karel said checking his swords and equipment.

[KOA]

The fog created from his breaths lifted into the air like a misted cloud. Golden orbs looked over the area watching as the group of travelers stopped at a ridge line just before the Northern Pass. He had watched this area for four days, clearing the caverns of the petty thugs and gangs who inhabited the area. It had bothered him to exert so much energy, for not a single one of the foes had any real talent to them. Clearing out the bodies also took a while as well, but the tools at his disposal had been most helpful in getting the area set up for his plans.

He turned his head to the side, not bothering to turn as his mouth opened in a wide yawn of boredom. “I had thought you Hex Magi had skills in stealth. I pray to you, corrupted magic user, that Seth Dahlios is just as bad as you are or you won’t last long.” The hulk of a man walked forward, muscular arms pressing against the tight black shirt he wore. A gray shawl covered his lower half of his face, wrapped around his shoulders and upper arms flowing behind him in the wind. Crimson eyes met with gold and the warriors stood at a stand off before the mysterious man gave a curt nod.

“Seth Dahlios is a former shell of the man e used to be.” the Hex Mage stated as fact. “If that imbecile sword demon held his own, than I should be able to kill Seth with relative ease.” The taller warrior turned, his long flowing dark blue coat fluttering as he did so, nearly whipping the mage in the face. His arms crossed over each other in a challenging way, as his golden eyes narrowed upon the man before him.

“You are an idiot Majora.” the dark knight stated. “You are blind to the events around you. It will be a fight to the death if you aren’t careful when handling a monster like him. Trust me, I know these things.” Majora looked up to his commanding officer, his crimson eyes narrowing in suspicion.

“And how do you know these things?” Vladimir’s lips parted into a vile grin.

“Because you fool,” he spoke plainly, opening his arms out to him like Majora were a child. “I am a monster myself. That fool is bottling up his power. When he finds out his precious Angel is in jeopardy, do you think he will be afraid to destroy those in his way with whatever means he had available?”

“I suppose I should be ready for that,” Majora admitted walking forward. “The stages are set for the plan. Do you trust our newest brother, Vladimir?” The last Knight of the Apocalypse remained quiet for a moment, his head lowered in contemplation. The Hex Mage waited for an answer, but instead heard the shuffling of dirt as Vladimir’s boots kicked up the dust.

“I have made contingencies for a reason,” he replied. “Just in case my trust is misplaced.” Majora watched as Vladimir walked away, his eyes never leaving him until the dark knight had vanished.

“The stage is set, the symphony is about to begin. But you will not get to hear the overture Seth,” Majora whispered to himself. “Not in this calculated game of Chess that Vladimir has created. He has worked far to hard for this plan to come to fruition. So get ready to die, by my hands if need be.” he stated simply. He heard rustling up above, and the Hex mage turned to the third member of the warband.

“Is it time?” he asked, a hint of boredom escaping into his tone. Majora looked at Seth as the four began to walk forward into the canyon. With a simple nod the warrior laughed with mirth as he disappeared. Majora watched for a bit longer, than turned to follow down the path Vladimir had taken.


A note about this Account: For the purposes of this story, KOA will be representing two characters. Vladimir Sigma, and Majora the Hex Magi.

[Dissinger]

Seth snorted softly in derision as they began their trek through the caves. The caves were literally a path that moved through the mountain range, and cut almost a beeline through. The problem came that because of the temperature of Salvar, that ice would accumulate in the pass. Passing rangers would of course dig through as much as possible, if only to allow passage between the two countries. The problem came that it made tunnels of ice that people would have to go through, reminding the people leaving that Salvar was cold, if such a development actually was needed.

They were moving at a slower than usual pace, to accommodate for Bethany, who seemed to be quiet for most the trip. Seth was certain it had something to do with him, and he wasn't too keen on changing that anytime soon. The arrangement was fine as far as he was concerned, and his polite disinterest was probably for the best. That was of course, until Liliana decided to end the cold war between Seth and Karel.

"So when are you going to relax Seth?"

"We've been attacked twice Angel, forgive a demon who grows paranoid," Seth replied as he gave her a look that told her he wasn't going to argue such a point.

"There is vigilance, and there is being an ass. I like to think you're mature enough to know the difference. If not, I can be sure to teach you such manners," Liliana's reply could have frozen fires with the tonality. Seth knew they were brewing to argue, and while their arguments were usually tame, this one threatened to be more dangerous.

"I just don't trust someone who has a sword at my back, when four weeks ago he was trying to put it in said back," Seth replied pointedly as he looked about the caves. He frowned seeing that the passage continued further. It meant more having to talk low before he could vent his frustrations with a loud yelling match.

"You need to learn when to put your damn Lavinian pride on the shelf Seth. You beat Karel, you don't need to rub it in, and further you know he's no threat to you. Just relax, you're keeping me safer than imagined, even Regal was killed with me walking away with only a scratch," Liliana replied.

Seth let out a sigh of defeat before he spoke calmer, "Perhaps that's true, but I don't make friends as fast as you. Especially not with people I've beaten up, just ask Letho."

Liliana let out a soft sigh and shook her head before she slapped his shoulder, "Some days I wonder how you put your pants on without stabbing someone. Relax, the war is over, you won. You're my big hero Seth, just enjoy the moment and perhaps we can have a second honeymoon out of this, considering how badly the first went."

"I swear if I ever see that Dryad again it'll be too soon..."

"Me too love, me too," Liliana replied.

Seth meanwhile was calmly letting his thoughts drift before he felt the pendant under his shirt thrash about. Reaching under his shirt he pulled it out before the pendant began to jerk towards him, and then back out, along the path. It continued this motion slowly, before it came to a stop, perfectly suspended in air, favoring neither in front of him, nor behind. He raised an eyebrow at the odd behavior, quickly coming to one very deadly conclusion.

Liliana looked at the glowing piece of rock before she said firmly, "Trouble?"

"Possibly, as strong as I am, if that's any indication," Seth replied. Karel and the woman Bethany were looking at the pendant, before the sounds of rumbling could be heard through the canyon. Seth looked about, only to see the bright patch of ice that had marked where the sun was overhead, was now dim, even darker than the rest. His eyes widened as he shouted, "Move it now!"

He barely had time to grab Liliana and pull her forward as the Avalanche began to crash towards their position.

[Zantetsuken]

Karel heard the rumbling and was already grabbing Bethany, darting off to the side as the avalanche began to cave in the ice caverns. He held onto his love as she screamed, the noise level rising as dirt and debris began to herald the impending doom. He lifted his sword up and bopped Bethany on the head, shouting, “Light as a feather!” and tossing her forward. No longer full of weight she soared out of the entrance they had walked through not even a few minutes prior. Rocks the size of Karel’s head began to tumble all around him and he cursed knowing unless he did it he would be smashed into a fine paste.

“Wouldn’t be very swordsman like now would it?” Karel muttered, lifting up his palm and using his time magic. A strip of the world turned black and white, the rocks caught in the other realm seemed to slow down to a crawl as Karel moved like blur out of the impact zone. As soon as he was freed the avalanche had finished and destroyed and way through the Ice Caverns.

The sword saint assessed the situation quickly, looking all around the devastation trying to find some form of answer as to what was going on and why. Bethany had returned him, hitting him like a tidal wave nearly knocking him over. Her fingers gripped his jacket tightly as tears ran down her face. He looked into her blue eyes and saw the fear in them, and he lifted his hand to gently stroke her hair.

“What’s going on?” she cried. Karel continued to stroke her hair, not able to give her an answer. His eyes scanned the horizon of the cliff peaks, and he quickly pushed Beth away as he drew up his blade he named after his sister, Serra Karla Raven, and lifted his hand to the side to bar Bethany from coming closer.

“Somebody laid a trap.” Karel whispered to her. “I saw movement up in the cliffs. Chances are they didn’t think you or I would make it. I want you to run into the forest to your right, and don’t come out until I tell give you the clear.”

“Right,” Bethany obeyed the order she had been given countless times before, never once giving him a hard time. When Karel drew his blade she had always known it was to defend her. She trusted Karel would be okay and darted into the woods.

Satisfied his love was safe, Karel turned his attention back to the cliff as he waited. He pondered what to do as he felt the cold chill of the wind blow against his back, as if ushering him to make a move. He continued to formulate possible scenarios until he was certain there were no other solutions, and then began to walk when he felt the danger senses within him begin to tingle. It was a feeling all warriors got that happened after countless battles of near death experience, and it was because of this Karel had noticed the wind stopped blowing on his back.

Turning on a dime he brought his blade up just before him blocking a powerful horizontal strike. The serrated teeth of the blade bit into the Serra Karla Raven, creating notches in the smooth surface as the serrated blade drifted downwards.

Karel looked up into the eyes of the man before him, a feeling of dread filling within his stomach as he saw familiar, cold, gray eyes. The lips were parted in a twisted grin, filed teeth all showing in a dazzling smile fit for a demon. When Karel’s eyes widened the man shouted with laughter, a gray energy wrapping around his blade like fire as he pushed the saint of swords away with a stiff kick, the energy wave following suit as the demented swordsman released it.

The body and energy collided against the rocks and a cascade of rocks rolled down leaving a dust cloud in its wake. As it cleared the newcomer laughed, twirling his blade lazily in one hand as he stalked forward.

“I have waited a long, long time to take that title of yours away, and today I come to make good on the promise I made.” He spoke with venom filling every word.

Karel woozily got up, realizing he was bleeding from a number of places and noticing his left arm was dislocated. This is not good, he assessed.

[Unfulfilled]

Regal’s breaths filled the air with fog similar to dragons breath, and he felt the energy of Tenacity flowing over him like a blazing inferno. He watched as Karel got up, his hazel eyes wide open in a stupid state of shock. In his hand was the same sword and despite himself Regal couldn’t stop from twitching.

The blade in Karel’s hand was the sword that had killed Regal nearly twenty years ago, when the sword demon fought the sword saint in a titanic battle of good versus evil. All of his waking life Regal had trained, killed, slaughtered, and fought to one day hold the title Saint of Swords, but he couldn’t believe his luck when the day finally came. Off on the distant plains near the Horogen mountain range off of the Corone mountain line the two had met. In ten minutes it was decided, and Regal was slain by the sword saint.

His eyes narrowed into two slits of hate as he found within himself a new resolve, and his heart began to race in excitement. He was never fulfilled in a battle, except twice. Once against Karel Raven the first time they met, and against his damnable friend Letho Ravenheart the second time. Each time was a battle that the gods themselves stopped to watch, and the same feeling he had twenty years ago returned again. Tenacity glowed with primal power, a gray aura surrounding the twisted blade.

“So,” Regal spoke with giddiness. “Twenty years huh?” Regal lifted Tenacity up, the action sending off a wave of energy into the ground next to him rending a shallow cut into the ground. “What have you been up to?”

The blue swordsman looked to Regal, his eyes darting all around until the Sword Saint stood up to his full height looking Regal dead in the eyes. “Your sword changed, demon.” he noticed. “It was never serrated before. Do you put a notch into it every time you lose?” he taunted. Regal laughed at the jab, his shoulders shrugging.

“You’d be surprised at the amount of experience death can offer if your strong enough to overcome it.” he gave a sideways grin as he looked deep into Karel’s eyes, a challenging stare like two alpha pack males fighting for control. “What happened to the other two swords you carried? Did you break them in a temper tantrum? I hear you been getting your ass kicked left and right Karel Hector Raven,” each name he spoke he added venom and jealousy, his eyes narrowing into balls of hatred. “The beloved, blessed Saint of Swords.”

Karel’s eyes lowered in self doubt, the evidence far to clear to overcome. Regal moved in on the point, pointing to Karel and making him relive each defeat. “Letho kicked your ass, Seth Dahlios kicked your ass, some unknown tribal even kicked your ass, and by the fucking gods you worthless cretin you got your ass handed to you in a box by Vladimir Sigma when he killed you!” Regal put on the squeeze as Karel’s shoulders began to lower as the weight of failure began to sink in. Just as Karel felt a new energy inside him Regal ran forward, blade lashing out as energy blitzed around him. When the blades met Karel was blown back into the wall stumbling down to his stomach where he groaned grabbing his left arm.

“No you idiot.” Regal seethed. “No speech this time. I already played long enough by giving you the reasons why I am here. So just fucking die already. You abused your title for far to long.” Regal said walking over, flicking his blade up and down releasing the gray energy with each flick of his wrist.

[Zantetsuken]

Karel had been in tough spots before, and this was no different. He knew deep inside the words the self proclaimed demon of swords were true, but he also knew he had defeated this man once, and he would do it again.

He slowed down time, using his magic to create a narrow strip near Regal’s right side. He got up running into the strip and coming out the other side, turning to slash Regal’s exposed back. As the blade neared the neck of his foe, the serrated weapon blocked Karel’s own blade, and the demon turned to face Karel gripping his blade tighter as he gave wolfish smile.

Using his time magic again Karel created a strip directly behind him that he used for a fast getaway, but when he returned back to normal time a gray wave of energy flowed forward, ripping up the ground in its wake of destruction. Cursing he dove to the side narrowly avoiding the blast which hit a Salvar tree, blasting into the thick base and sending shards of bark everywhere. A few pieces managed to stab Karel, but nothing seriously came of it.

With a loud groan the tree began to snap and break as the twelve foot oak fell from it’s sentinel position down towards the demon of swords. Regal was laughing the entire time until his eyes noticed the tree was coming right at him, and he cursed loudly jumping to the side in the same manner as Karel did. The earth quaked as the tree fell and dust kicked up into the air creating a wall of fog.

Taking his opportunity the Saint of Swords narrowed time again, running into the fog, but stopping after that. He ran on his own speed towards the position Regal was in, and ducked lifting his blade up. Sure enough the Demon of Swords had leapt into fog, sword stretched out as another wave of energy preceeded him. His eyes went wide with Terror as he realized Karel was below him, not above him and Serra Karla Raven cut a gash down his stomach and down his upper his thigh.

The demon hit the ground with his free palm flat on the ground, twirling to his feet and buckling from the new wound causing his momentum to knock him off balance as he free fell. Karel slowed time down again rushing forward jumping at Regal with a vicious kick that connected with his chest. He released time and the demon soared into the fallen oak, slamming hard sending splinters up into air.

Full of exhaustion, Regal slowly returned to a vertical base, stabbing his sword into the ground to avoid falling over as he did so. His gray eyes glared into Karel’s soul, before he began to laugh with twisted amusement as he darted forward in a sprint.

“Oh that’s bull!” Karel cried as he leapt forwards, his sword slamming into Regal’s. The weapons sparked from the sudden impact and both men grunted trying to shove the other away. “I cut your leg, yet you stand?” Karel breathed. Regal gave off a chuckle of twisted amusement as he spoke back, grunting and breathing heavily as he tried to force the upper hand.

“My body is possessed by a demi god, you fool. It’s fueling me to fight.” The demon began to get the upper hand as Karel looked for a solution, then smiled as he thought of one.

“Ever feel,” he breathed before smiling rolling backwards lifting his foot onto the demon’s chest hitting him with the tip of his blade. “Light as a feather?” Regal’s body soared upwards like balloon and he screamed the entire time on the way up.

“Hope you don’t mind heights!” Karel called after him, preparing for his follow up attack.

[Unfulfilled]

Regal’s body twisted upwards and upwards in the air until at last, nearly forty feet in the air he stopped and felt himself begin to drift downwards. His eyes searched for anything to grab hold of, but he was lost and stuck with only his options at hand. With a groaning sigh he closed his eyes, feeling a tingling sensation in his limbs. He knew he had to work fast.

“Hey, freeloader.” Regal’s mind called to the demi god within him. “Wake up, you useless leech.” a darkness inside Regal’s heart began to shift as if stirred from a slumber and a primal growl met with Regal’s own hostile tone.

Now is that how you treat the one that gives you strength? I can just leave you alone if you want me too. Have fun surviving a fall from this height. The inner demon whistled as Regal’s eyes felt the world start to approach far quicker than he wanted.

“Fuel my sword. I need power, not healing.” The demon gave a startled grunt, and Regal cursed the demon’s name.

You nuts? it replied. What possible good can come of that? Regal grinded his teeth as he fell ten feet, soon to be fifteen. He was almost out of time.

“JUST DO IT!” Regal shouted lifting Tenacity overhead. Sure enough Regal’s leg and chest exploded in crimson life, his lips parting in a howling cry of anguish. He snapped himself back into focus as he felt the gray beams of energy wrap around his blade like fire, and he slammed down with all his might letting the wave coarse forward cascading downwards in a tornado of pure malicious intent.

The saint of swords saw the attack, and dodged it easily darting to the side, and Regal’s lips parted in a vile grin. The blast slammed into the fallen tree, and the branches and the fallen log exploded sending shards everywhere. Small bits even found there way to Regal who bit his lower lip to avoid screaming. Working quickly he rotated Tenacity to his other hand and prepared for the ground. With a last deep breath he slammed his sword downwards, energy ripping into the ground causing it to rend open in a tiny explosion. The waves of destruction lifted the earth in a clash of destruction, and Regal’s body shifted from a downward decent to a flailing bounce upon the ground. Each hit he could tell something broke within his body as he landed with a skidding thud upon a brush of leaves.

Woozily Regal felt power flow from his sword back into his body, and he slowly got up.

That was complete dumb luck that you managed to change trajectory at the last moment. Regal gave off a childish laugh as he lifted himself to his full height. “I always knew what I was doing.” Regal responded looking for Karel. There was no way you were certain doing an explosive blast would send a shockwave at you causing you to free fall at an angle towards the ground. Regal shrugged as he saw Karel ripping tiny splinters out of his arms and legs, his chest heaving as a branch was lodged deep into his right leg.

He flicked his blade up and walked towards his prey, looking at his prize kill. He kept walking faster and faster until he screamed a war cry charging the Sword Saint. The sword saint looked up and lifted his blade outwards, and golden replicas of his blade swirled around him creating a barrier that Regal couldn’t penetrate. He slammed his blade into the swirling steel, nearly having his wrist broken for the trouble.

“Okay Karel,” Regal said twirling his blade lazily. “I know that move. You can’t do it forever. I’ll be patient.” he laughed as he watched Karel’s eyes shift around, looking, almost praying for something to help him in his fight.

[Dissinger]

They had continued to run, as fast as they could, Seth long since having let Liliana go, if only so they both weren't weighed down with each other. They continued to sprint down the caverns, even as the roar of snow filling the chasm continued to assault them. They ran for every reason they could think of, and for the hope that if they should survive this freak accident, that they would have a good laugh, and some alone time.

However, even a human could only run so fast.

Soon the snow overtook them, in a cry of desperation from the pair, the snow forced them out of the cramped passageway. During the chaos Seth found himself unable to keep track of Liliana, despite his fervent grasping through the snow to find her. He cried out in outrage at the development, but all was lost in the avalanche that had taken them apart.

Soon the snow that had carried them through the winding canyon came to a halt, and Seth found himself covered in lacerations large and small. His chest heaved from the sudden fear that held it in a vice grip. Had he really traveled to hell and back, in a desperate gamble to get Liliana back, only to watch her die less than a month later? Was he really so cursed that the gods themselves saw fit to intervene on his happiness, and destroy what little hope he had?

He nearly passed out from the overwhelming tide of emotions kindled in his chest, from rage to despair. He was a whirlwind of fury and sorrow, locked in the form of a man barely old enough to recognize such ironies. He continued to recover, even as he heard the crunch of the snow. His head jerked up, and his eyes widened as he saw littered on the ground before him, his many daggers.

The sound of someone clucking their tongue echoed through the small clearing, and Seth felt something within him go cold. It was not the chiding of Liliana he heard, nor was it not the sounds of Karel about to crack a wisecrack. Slowly he looked around, before he began to quickly grasp for knives. No sign of the noise could be heard, and even as Seth fought to collect all nine of his deadly blades, he felt a sharp pain in his chest, before he was forced onto his back.

A boot was pressed firmly on his chest, restricting his ability to gasp for air. A fit of coughs burst from the thief's lungs and the severity made the man curl into ball, hoping to return from the womb he had been borne from. Another savage kick flipped him over again, this time onto his stomach as he was caught off guard.

"Pride of Lavinya? I think not, those who called you the Lavinian Demon, were greatly exaggerating your usefulness. I still don't get how you rated Traitor General in Father's eye," A voice thick with anger, and raw with sarcasm managed to find its way into the skull of the recovering thief. Alarms rang throughout his head, as the words meaning sunk in, and the phrase deciphered.

Another boot sought to wind the thief even more, before a gauntlet clad hand blocked the blow at the ankle. He coughed once more, weakly pushing the foot back, before he gasped, "Who....."

"No, not right now my fine feathered friend. Now is not the time for questions. I'll get my answers without your help, and I certainly don't need to answer your pathetic attempts at grasping the situation. If you haven't figured it out already, it won't matter in the next few minutes anyways," The voice said. Seth could detect a hint of Revanian in the way the words were spoken. Most considered it arrogance, but those who lived in Revan, knew it was anything but, it was pride, in your ancestry and your homeland. A pride that even though your home was ravaged by the undead, and may never receive help in clearing it out, that you defied them.

Finally he managed to roll aside, and drew a single dagger. The maneuver stole precious air from his lungs, even as he evaded the next kick of his tormentor. His gray eyes moved across the field of battle drinking in details. It was an unremarkable battleground, with trees scattered about the air, in the semblance of a clearing. Snow spilled across the ground from the avalanche, and even now snow continued to fall about the area, as the canyon that connected Alerar and Salvar was slowly filled with ice.

The thief kept a free hand resting upon the soil, bracing him from laying upon the ground, and getting the rest he truly needed. His lungs burned from the exertion he had given up only recently, and even now his heart pounded, threatening to break through his chest and into the open air. As it had so long ago when Kycoo killed him, by drawing out the organ.

When they fell upon the man before him, who was uncoiling a whip, he knew he was in for a rough fight.

[KOA]

To be honest, he wasn’t really all that impressed. The legend, the hype, the drama of Seth Dahlios just wasn’t living up to the man that was before him. It was so pitiful the hex mage couldn’t gather the courage to just simply end the legendary Lavinian Demon. No, if he would destroy the monster before him, it would be with a dagger in his hand.

The whip was about four feet in length, not including the foot length for a handle. At the end of the whip was a long shard of a blade, meant for lacerating even the toughest hides when cracked against the hide correctly. It was a beast master’s weapon of choice when taming a wild animal, and it was fitting for him to tame and humble the legendary Hex Mage with the weapon.

He rotated his wrist and snapped down as the weapon cracked at the peak and slammed forward. Seth brought up one hand out of instinct and the weapon cleaved into his chest, blood spurting out in droves. The whip cracked back, cutting up the arm on its way back, and the weapon was held at the ready as a parrying dagger was drawn up.

“Your mind can’t trust what your eyes can see…” He whispered, the dagger in his hand glowing with a dark purple aura before the mage vanished in thin air. In truth, he merely made it so he was invisible to Seth Dahlios, who was confused as his mind tried to figure which way he could go, but the assassin of Vladimir laughed in the echoing surrounding, masking where he came from as he darted to the demon’s left, cocking his whip and snapping it to land on Seth’s right shoulder.

Naturally, Seth’s instincts turned him so his back was to the assassin, and the whip cracked again landing a blow uncontested against the shoulder blades of the Lavinian. The mage stumbled to one knee, and while he was stumbling the assassin darted forward with swift feet, jumping along the fallen tree logs so his feet wouldn’t leave indentations in the snow. He stopped and looked to Seth, saw him scanning the horizon looking for anything to give away the enemy position, which caused the assassin to smile.

“Poor, poor demon,” he taunted. “So confused, and how can I blame you? Your precious Angel isn’t here to watch you.” At the mention of Liliana the Demon frantically began to search for prey, losing himself to his instincts as he tried to find some form of foot prints. He found the set that ended just before the log, four steps away from where he was, and the demon laughed trying to act cool.

“Ya know, invisibility is nifty and all, but in only hides so much.” He lowered his head, and the amulet on his wrist glowed. In the flash of an eye, four chains all covered in lacerations and fetishes sprang forth, swarming and slamming into the spot where the assassin left his last foot print. The hex mage laughed, thinking he had hit the assassin, but felt the cold kiss of the scourge when the whip cracked and cut his cheek, sending him sprawling.

“It would be a sad error in judgment to mistake me for an acolyte.” he spoke, laughing again as the whip returned, holding it in his hand as he waited. Seth looked up and around, trying to find the source of all his pain. The whip uncoiled and snapped forward, slamming into Seth’s chest again sprawling the Lavinian to the ground.

“Come on Demon!” He chastised. “Fight like Father made you to fight!”

[Dissinger]

Blood drained out of the thief's body at an alarming rate. What had been assumed to be an ordinary whip was far worse. It was a tool of war, designed to cut callously through the defenses of their opponent. It was obvious what the man who had attacked him from all around was after. The complete destruction of the Lavinian mage, in both body and spirit, was his true goal. Nothing else but this could be accepted, and Seth understood why. You cannot beat a man, until you have taken the desire to fight out of him, and with Seth’s considerable willpower, it had to be done quickly, or else it would be too long a fight.

Still, Seth wasn't out of the fight yet.

Bringing the chains about, he slowly started a rhythm of chains whipping about him in a frenzy. It was difficult to keep it up, but with the time limit on the amulet reaching a premium, he needed every second. The man continued to talk, his voice echoing around as he chortled, "What are you going to do Demon? You can't fight me, any less than you could fight Kycoo. You are known to me, and what you can't see, you can't fight..."

Seth's eyes remained closed as he slowly began to work backwards. He could hear the voice echoing, he just needed to trace it back to the source. Continuing the motions he was nearing the limits of his arms, even as his ears continued to search out his opponent. Finally he let out a wry grin, before he spoke, "Feel my pain."

Before the Hex Magi could react he was crying out in pain from the sudden rush of magic through the area. Seth took that opportunity to listen before he saw the log shift, the movement of the man's feet too much for the poor thing. Chain's lashed out without any resistance before he heard it, the briefest of gasps.

He found the rat.

Moving towards the gasp his eyes opened, the chains whipping out in a fury before he roared, "Mess with the bull, get the horns!" Chains lashed out, hopefully to entangle his target, and as he felt resistance he jerked his arms quickly, a savage grin on his face. Despite his attempts at curbing the more aggressive tendencies, Set knew this is what he lived for. The battle that would challenge him, give him something worth fighting for. The fight that would push him to the next plateau of power, this is what he craved.

"Tell me Hex Magi...and be quick, I don't have time to dawdle," Seth said between hurried breaths, "Have you ever felt like life is passing you by?"

Arcs of gray electricity shot down the chains, heading right for the Hex Magi who thought to hide from the Lavinian.

[KOA]

The Hex assassin watched the chains fly before him, and already knew the power of the Changeling Amulet was nearing a limit. He smiled as he heard the lips of Seth part, trying to act tough as he shot out a quick taunt about how this battle would turn around. His mind raced with thoughts of the newly found power he would gain in killing Seth.

His eyes widened when he saw the gray arcs of power coming at him.

He knew that in order to summon a hex spell, an orb must first be conjured, than either shot at the foe, or forced fed into the body of the target. Only the legendary Hex Magi Kycoo had the power to use his magic and fuse it through his weapons. Yet before the assassin wasn’t Kycoo, but Seth Dahlios using the same technique he thought was un attainable by any of the current bloodlines of Hex Magi.

He had thought wrong, and for his error he had a long coming torrent of pain coming. The spell hit the assassin square in the chest, pulsing over his body and he cringed feeling the sparks rattle inside him. As he looked up he felt a strange sensation and he slowly turned his head to look down at his whip arm. His brain was processing far faster than his body could react, and the splitting headache of the nerves working overtime was the least of his worries. By the time the whip was lifted an inch Seth had already ran the ten steps between them, and the dagger in his hand twirled in his hand ready for the death blow.

Shit, shit, shit! the Hex Mage cursed, willing his body to retreat backwards. But his hand was still raising the whip to attack, and he felt his brain pounding against his own will. No, no, no Seth Dahlios. I have come to far! He cursed watching his hated enemy stop before him. He gave off a cocky smile, patting the assassin on the head.

“I know a remedy for your problems.” Seth said in an even tone. “Salt heals all wounds… The dagger glowed with power again, but it seemed to coat the blade rather than encompass it. The assassin watched as the weapon slashed across his chest, and he screamed in pain, his body tensing up before a tingling sensation filled his nerves. He felt blood pool down the front of his stomach and he instinctively brought up his parrying dagger. Seth’s dagger rolled off it, creating sparks as the two weapons met.

“That hold spell only works for a limited time, and the stronger your foe, the quicker they can dispell its effects.” The assassin kicked upwards, catching Seth in the gut. Rotating and grabbing Seth’s arm so his back was to Seth he bent over tossing the veteran fighter over his head. Seth easily landed in a low crouch bringing up his weapons in a blocking pattern.

“So then,” Seth spoke. “Do I get to know the name of the man I will kill today?” The assassin laughed watching Seth rise up to his feet, both weapons held at the ready. With a shrug he lowered the shawl around his face, revealing a scar that ran down from his upper lip, through his bottom lip, and lowering all the way down to his chest. He parted his lips in a wry smile, one eye glowing as his hair fell to cover the other.

“I guess it seems fitting,” he replied. “My name is Majora Zaro, and I hope you don’t mind crawling through knives… He grinned lifting his hand up, a tainted green orb lifting up in his right hand.

[Liliana Ambria]

The snow rushed through the canyon faster than even the cleric could keep up with. As the wave of ice and water sped through the canyon Liliana lost sight of Seth, and could almost feel his frustrations through his blazing spirit. She could only marvel how in times of great danger did his soul wax strongly. Only when he was threatened did he make full use of his potential.

He truly was everything Uriel had whispered to her.

Still she resisted his urges to use Seth as the tool even the Lavinian claimed to be. She cared too much to make him into a weapon to be pointed at the enemies of the Seraphs. So she followed dutifully, making sure to keep his pride in check, lest he get himself killed once more. Further she encouraged him to learn his limits, if only so he could be sure of his own strengths. Feeling his soul blaze once more told her everything she needed to know, this had been a trap, and they were not safe.

When the snow had stopped, she managed to rise slowly from the piles of snow that had filled the clearing. She could feel Seth's spirit, a bright blaze off to the west. However, before she could move she felt something else. Where as Seth's blaze was strong, and she could feel a similar blaze near him, there was one more sign of life, one she could not help but shrink from.

Rising up to her full height she slowly drew the titanium blade Angel Slayer from its place on her hip. This was her burden Uriel whispered, this was her legacy. No one else in Althanas could claim to wield the very power to kill a god, yet every morning when she prepared, she did just that. It had been a long time since the Seraphs had fallen apart, and become a roving band of holy men. Hearkening back to the days when the order of priests had first begun. Still she alone knew the words of power that the gods themselves could not help but hear anymore.

It was power, it was raw and corrupting, and when she looked down at the hand wielding Angel Slayer, she was not surprised to see an inky darkness creeping across her hand. The mark of Uriel, given to her in death, for the day she would return to the world and begin her transformation had spread. The more she called upon Uriel's power, the more she was enslaved by it, it was a delicate balance, one she had to learn to control, lest she become so much like her lover.

So, when she heard the crunch of boot steps upon the snow she spoke without preamble, "I had hoped I could keep my power hidden awhile longer. Hiding in Seth's shadow can be a very useful thing, yet I know better than to assume you're expecting an easy fight. So don't insult me by trying to sneak up on me."

A cruel chuckle echoed through the area as the sound of metal upon metal could be heard. A man's voice off to her right resounded about the area, causing the Priestess of power to turn her head and acknowledge her foe's arrival, "Very good, I should expect no less of an Amiya."

Liliana snorted at the name before she spoke, "My family is the Ambria. I claim no ties to that bloodline, even if I am burdened by its taint."

"So you do know who you are?" The man asked stepping forward. His cloak whipped about him in a very mockery of a cape, the wind picking up through the area, and causing the priestess to shudder. She was soaked to the bone and the chill seeped slowly into her muscles. While the cold would be refreshing soon enough, it was the fact her muscles were not ready for combat that worried her. Even with her breath slowly steadying with the rapid pace of her heart, she was unprepared for any true battle.

"I am Liliana Ambria, chosen Cleric of Uriel the Forsaken God. I am the avatar of Power, cursed to become that which I grew to loathe," She said firmly, her arm slowly raising the tip of Angel slayer until it pointed at the intruder, "And you are keeping me from my Demon. Your pain shall be legendary."

[KOA]

Vladimir’s eyes tilted in surprise to hear such venom in the woman’s tone. He cracked a sly grin as he watched her lift the sword, taking a basic stance and he drew up his Wo Dao, the new Masamune, and twirled it in his hands.

“Do you honestly think the last Knight of the Apocalypse would be intimidated by an empty threat such as that? Your pain will be legendary…” He snorted in laughter, bringing his weapon up to chest level pointing it at Liliana. “Right now the only legendary pain being inflicted is on this whole group.”

Liliana tilted her head cautiously as she looked to Vladimir for his intent, and then a cry of pain filled the air from behind the wall of snow and ice. Her eyes opened in the realization that it was her lover's lips that the loosed the cry of anguish. An explosion further at the start of the pass shook the snow to fall down the avalanche route and another cry of pain filled the air, and she could only assume it was Karel's.

“What is the meaning of all this?” She demanded. "Why are you doing this?"

“I guess I should explain it, but in the meantime,” Vladimir charged forward, slashing his blade from side to side. The Seraph blocked and parried each blow, just barely making it in time to dodge the next attack as Vladimir laughed in her face, a look of causal calm on his face. “Simply put, this plan was in the making for nearly two weeks. Fast acting and taking advantage of the tools I had made trapping you, blocking off Demon-Child, and halting the Insufferable Karel just so I could get alone time with you was no easy feat.”

Liliana dodged another blow, and she lifted up on her shoulder’s dragging Vladimir forward. He easily rolled forward, landing on his feet and twisting in time to yawn and block her follow up with the steel of his blade. “As I was saying,” he continued casually, as if nothing happened causing the Seraph to growl. “I needed to get you alone so I could take care of one simple thorn that would just destroy all my hard worked plans. And that thorn happens to be the blade in your hand.”

The two blades locked, and Vladimir kept her blade on the defensive as he pushed harder and harder into her. “Angel Slayer,” Liliana managed to mumble before losing her grip and retreating a few steps, narrowly being sliced in the process. Vladimir didn’t press his advantage, nodding to her to let her absorb the information. “You want me dead so nobody can wield the blade that can kill the gods themselves.”

“Exacto!” Vladimir shouted, clapping his hands for effect. “I have this funny feeling that if I died my plans would all go to ruin.” Liliana returned into the combat, a wild horizontal coming at the dark knight, but he easily bent low, bringing his blade inwards locking it under one arm and holding his blade at her neck tapping her chin.

Liliana turned her head, her eyes wide in fear as she realized she was in Vladimir’s deadly grip. Vlad cracked a cruel smile, his golden eyes narrowing with anticipation as he held her in place. One wrong move and her head would be rolling upon the ground. “If I were you,” Vladimir said vilely. “I would start praying to the gods for help.”

[Liliana Ambria]

"Funny you should say that," Liliana began as she fought the fear that threatened to encroach upon her. Forcing it deep within her heart her voice took on a chilled tone as she spoke, "I believe Uriel has something to say to you..."

"And just what is that?" The swordsman kept the blade at her neck, hoping to finish her off when she could not fight back. She was at his mercy as far as he knew, and there was nothing Liliana could do to change that. That much was true; in actuality Liliana had little or no talent for fighting. It was her biggest fault as far as Uriel was concerned, and so they had brokered a deal.

Her eyes closed briefly before a voice left her lips, colder and harsher. It echoed softly with her own, even as she felt his corrupting influence upon her body. The voice was ancient, hearkening back to the very demon wars themselves, and it held within it an amused malice, one that taunted the swordsman, "Back off the puppet."

The tattoos that had begun on her arm continued to spread across her skin, fully enveloping the hand that held the Angel Slayer. Her eyes flashed a dangerous green before the inky mark continued its course up her neck, and long her face. Even as Vladimir moved to end the woman, sensing the change going on within her, she was on the move. Her blade began to sing in the air with a deadly grace that threw even Vladimir off guard as the blade began to nick and cut.

Where as before the swordsman had been forcing Liliana onto the defensive, now he was forced to parry and block. His timing of such things just right to avoid a deeper laceration, even as the irritation began to show in his eyes at the turning tide. His eyes grew wide as the woman moved with a grace that belied her slender frame, with an experience he knew had not been there only moments ago. The sword moved slowly yet surely forcing the Masamune into an ever dizzying set of parries, timed so that the blow had to land in order to work.

The frustrating part wasn't that Vlad couldn't defend; it was that if he timed his defense too early, she would expertly avoid the defensive maneuver and set up for a far deadlier attack. Each swing of the sword saw the black tattoos slide further across her skin as she gave her body over to her God. No words were spoken, not a single cruel phrase or witty remark. Uriel let his handiwork do the talking, and the volumes it spoke were quite enough.

Remember my puppet our deal, don't rely on me too much, or I will make you pay. I am your god, not your problem solver.

"Yes my Lord," She muttered softly under her breathe as she moved following his instructions. Anyone who saw her in a divine light could see the strands that moved her body. She was a marionette and with each passing moments, the strings grew ever stronger. She knew the dangers of letting them grow too much, she had to defeat Validmir and get to Seth within the next two minutes, or these strings would never release her.

But compared to the failure she knew would follow her cutting the strings, even slavery was a preferable choice.

[KOA]

This isn’t going according to plan. Vladimir’s blade dove upwards, sliding diagonally across Angel Slayer until the two hilts met. Liliana’s eyes still had that unearthly glow to them, and a stoic, ancient presence seemed to hover around her. With a twisted grin the possessed Seraph rotated the blades down to the side, allowing her to shoulder in on Vladimir knocking the Knight off balance.

He tripped onto his rear, rolling to the left as the Angel Slayer stabbed into the dirt repeatedly, trying to pierce into Vladimir’s hide. He continued to roll, not able to find purchase in the ground that allowed him to regain a vertical base, and he cried out in pain as his arm was scraped by the kiss of the steel.

Realizing he had no other options if he continued this course he let his hands drag across the ground, grabbing up dirt. After a thrust nearly impaled him he stopped his roll, tossing the debris into the eyes of his foe, slowly watching the world spin around him. Liliana’s eyes began to water, blinking over and over but the body remained unphased as if she was no longer control of her body. He rolled to his right, legs kicking out in a sweeping motion.

Angel Slayer came dangerously close, as the blade pinned Vladimir by his cape upon his upper shoulder. He glanced to the left and saw his eye looking back in the reflection cast off by the blade, and he felt a cold line of sweat drip down the side of his face. Vladimir was in absolute shock, realizing the blade was tilted so that the blade only need to be sweapt to the right, and his neck would be rent open. He cautiously turned his head to look up at Liliana, seeing the cold, icy grin on her face, and she flexed her muscles in her arm to finish the deed, when suddenly she faltered, her body tripped forward.

Being a veteran of countless battles Vlad sprang forward with his one free arm, grabbing her wrist and pulling her forward as he placed a single boot to her hip, flipping her over. Her hand lost her grip on Angel Slayer and she soared in the air for four feet skidding and landing on her stomach.

Vladimir ripped his cape off, tearing his shirt where the blade had held him and he leapt back up to his feet, his hands gripping the Masamune and Angel Slayer in his hands together. The Masamune glowed with a deadly red aura, the Angel Slayer glowed with a pure white aura, a blue twinge around the edges as he gripped it tightly in his hands.

“I have no idea what happened, nor do I even care anymore. To take you lightly was a calculated mistake, and I won’t do so again. Prepare to die Liliana Ambria,” Vladimir said stalking over to the fallen Seraph.

[Zantetsuken]

Karel felt his body soaring in the air as the demon of sword released another calculated blast of energy. He was in a real mess of a jam at this point, his body bleeding from a score of wounds, and his right arm still dislocated. Yet he had learned a few things about his opponent in this time.

First, Regal couldn't just lash out with energy if he had a severe wound. Whatever demon laid in wait inside him was fueling either his power, or his incredible health. If he released a wave of energy, Regal would be greatly exposed in return. Yet the demon was no longer reckless like he was before. He was calm, calculating each move before committing and it was becoming a chore just to keep up. Not only that, but his deadly dances of death were still being held in reserve. The last they met, the demon of swords had known two dances with his sword that allowed him to be in a total loose and free form, able to dodge anything, or in a nimble, fast aggressive pattern. Now Karel wasn't sure what Regal knew anymore.

It made Karel wonder what tricks he had to counter him. Time Magic was not an option, for anytime he slowed down the passage of fate, Regal would respond with a wave of energy. He had a few of his forbidden arts, but they were named so for a reason.

Karel's teacher, Kai Atari, had taught him the true purpose of the blade he wielded, and the powers that were locked deep within. However, as he was taught them, Karel began to notice a darker, dank primal power that spawned off the attacks. When Karel inquired about the arts, he found Kai chastising him, telling him to use such attacks was forbidden, and that if Karel used them, he had to admit he was going to lose the fight.

Only a handful of times did Karel ever use the forbidden power of his blade. The first time was against his hated rival Vladimir Sigma's parents. The second was against an assassin that Vladimir had sent after Karel, but each time he used the move out of his own hatred and loathing. Never once did he use it because he was in a losing engagment.

He looked around, thinking, praying for something to work to his favor, but Regal just howled in laughter as his blades began to swing wildly at Karel. Another cut grazed his already wounded shoulder, and Karel hissed in pain as he tried to parry the next blow. The blade however feinted and struck again, and Karel let out a yelp of pain as he gave more ground.

Using one hand to swing his blade around and retreating as best he could, Karel felt a rush of terror fill over him. He didn't have a choice, and Karel felt his body lurch in disgust as he thought of his only viable option. I am sorry, Master Atari, but I must once again disobey you. He thought sadly. Karel waited, and when Regal over extended his blade he kneed him in the stomach, kicked him away, and lashed out with his blade.

"Zantetsuken Forbidden Art: Blood of a Thousand!" Karel cried as he let out the name of his most devilish attack. A small golden saucer appeared below Regal as the Zantetsuken glowed a dark twisted blue, and he rushed forward. Regal saw the attack, and his eyes lit up with shock and surprise. In the span of a few moments his death would come all over again by Karel's hand.

"This is the part where you die, Regal. And hopefully, you stay dead!" Karel shouted as his blade neared his foe.

[Unfulfilled]

Oh now your in it. The demon laughed. Regal cursed as he heard the attack being called, and he watched as the blade came for him. However, he didn't get the title demon of swords for nothing.

"Again, give me fuel." Regal commanded.

No. The demon replied sternly. Regal felt his chest constrict, and he cursed himself as he saw his options fast running out. I am not some power to just be called upon on a whim. I asked if you wanted me to fight this battle, and you said no. I've been more than generous thus far and yet you ask for more? Regal cursed again as his eyes counted the steps left to make a move.

"I don't want to die, now give me the strength to move freely." Regal commanded again.

Why don't you just die instead? It offered, laughing with glee at Regal's predicament. I don't see what the good would be.

"Then grant it to me and observe!" Regal shouted. The demon howled in agreement, and Regal felt his body regain strength. With a swift movement Regal felt his body go lucid, his mind and body becoming an extension of his will. As Karel's blade lanced forward, he ducked under it, Tenacity flying forwards. Karel's blade suddenly changed pace, as if controlled by some unseen hands. Regal drew in his body, bending over the blade and flipping forward, rotating on his one free hand. He jumped backwards, avoiding a sudden follow up.

Karel's blade still homed in on the demon of swords, and he placed both hands behind his head and pushed off the ground, his body soaring upwards and over the blade. He twisted in the air, and Tenacity chewed deep into Karel's last, good arm.

The serrated edges sawed through his skin all the way to the bone, and Karel's eyes exploded in agony as he screamed so loud no sound could be produced. Karel dropped to his knees, the blade in his hand falling to the ground.

Regal felt his heart race as he looked down upon the fallen form of the Sword Saint. I don't believe it, The demon said in awe. You bested him. He's there before...shattered and broken. He knows he lost. Karel's body fell to the dirt, and he whimpered in pain as he realized he couldn't move both his arms.

"At long....fucking....last...." Regal breathed. He held Tenacity loosely in his hand. "This game is over, Karel. The demon of swords shall soon be cleansed of this darkness...and I shall be the Saint of Swords!"

He walked before Karel, looking into his destroyed Hazel eyes. "I survived death to be able to kill you Karel...and you know what..." Regal spat in Karel's face. "You ruined it. You held back. This wasn't even a fight. Gods damn you Karel. Your failures, not a single damned one did you learn from. You truly don't deserve that title anymore." Regal whispered, holding up Tenacity in his hand, like a priest would lift a holy relic.

With as much prestige as he could muster, he prepared the blade for the final blow, and transcend from demonhood to sainthood. "It's in my hands...it's for me to decide..." he sang.

With a swift motion he cut downwards, and blood stained the earth in a never ending torrent.

[Tainted Bushido]

There comes a moment, when a swordsman achieves perfect clarity. Body and mind work as one, and the future seems to stretch forward forever. It is a moment every swordsman hopes to achieve once in their life, for at this pinnacle of efficiency, the swordsman achieves true enlightenment. When such a moment occurs, it brings about a spiritual epiphany, and ensures the swordsman's life changes.

The sword, the singular most thought of symbol of destruction is in itself a representation of this enlightenment. Warriors often talk through wearied lips, and even though they hate their path, they continue to walk. This search for enlightenment leads many to their death as they misunderstood the laws of steel, laws as ancient as the secret of steel itself. These warriors walk the path, for it is all they have left, the laws of Steel as cruel as they are strict.

Of the many swordsmen who walk the path, there are many who call themselves masters. They wield their blade with a focused calm and clarity, hoping to achieve that state of perfect clarity time and again. Each epiphany brought them closer and closer to spiritual nirvana, and in the end releasing them from the failures of the flesh. Each insight into the blade would reveal a truth about the world that created such a blade. With enough truths, the man would understand his place in the world, and with acceptance become stronger for it.

To the one that treads this path the farthest, they give a title; Saint of Swords.

Kai Atari, the last man to hold the title had played the cruelest of tricks upon the world. He had told the world that the Saint of Swords was a man who walked with much darkness in his heart. Kai Atari spoke of a man who was without equal, who would win a fight, and never be bested. He spoke many accolades to his progeny, and eventually bestowed upon this man the timeless title.

The truth was that Kai Atari had chosen a weapon, and not a true Saint.

Regal Burnswidth never knew what power rested in the blade. To him it was merely a tool of destruction, meant to destroy his enemies while sating his own dark thirsts. Regal represented one who walked a path of power, who sought to not bond with the blade, but to dominate it. The blade was not something to be feared, it was merely a tool, and a replaceable one at that.

Imagine his surprise when the Tenacity he had used in facing Karel Hector Raven was not only halted, but flung far away. The blade spiraled through the air with a solitary grace that belied the harsh blow that had caused it. A follow up strike could be seen tracing across his chest, exposing crimson ichor to the air. Gouts of steam came off the wound as the hottest vital fluids leaked to the open air. Before a cry of surprise could reach his lips, the blade that had stopped his slid back into its sheath.

"Come little one, it's time for work," The voice was thick, almost choked with an Akashiman dialect. The words were firm, spoken with a finality that spoke of respect. To anyone listening there was no direct person those words could relate to. The man seemed almost crazy with the manner in which he had spoken.

Sandals made of a fresh wood kept his feet atop the snow, preventing them from being buried in the cold slush that clung to the ground. A kimono as white as the freshest snow clung to the frame of the lithe man. Hair that matched its color was pulled back into a neat ponytail that danced in the small breeze that flowed through the canyon. Bandages wrapped about the hands and arms of the man, going further up the skin till they could not be seen anymore. Further bandages clung to his neck, not revealing a single piece of skin to the outside world. The face of Regal's assailant was hidden behind a mask of porcelain white, with symbols painted upon it.

The symbols spoke of virtues that every man should welcome into their heart. They spoke of triumph and pain, and further, they spoke of a way of life that lent itself to this very battle. Karel Raven was forced to look upon the back of his savior, and acknowledge his life had been saved by a man he had dismissed entirely. One hand of the self proclaimed Kensai moved gracefully, cupping as if holding something, before coming to a rest over the hilt of the blade at his hip.

"Who in the Nine Hells are you?!" Regal demanded, even as he moved back.

"My apologies, I needed to catch my breath. I am Kai Taka, Kensai to the Saint of Swords. While I am to allow him his battles, I am not permitted to let him die. If you would seek to usurp his title, then you shall have to fight through me first," The explanation was spoken with an even voice that belied no hint of strain. There was no malice, no spite, only calm certainty. Regal moved backwards quickly recovering his sword before pointing it at the newcomer.

"I'll kill you, then Karel himself!" The Sword Demon moved with ferocity in his step. While bringing Tenacity about, Taka's shoulders dropped almost in defeat, before the blade was drawn, and once more forced the Sword Demon back. The speed and precision of the strike caused the blade to rattle in Regal's hands, even as the force shoved the Demon back a few feet. Wide eyed the man watched, as Taka carefully shifted stance, and choked up on the grip of his Katana. Once the hand was flush with the hilt the Ronin watched Regal warily.

The sword demon paced about, as the ronin made no move to engage him. When he would come in with a strike he would find it met with a harsh blow that forced the man back at the sheer volume. Finally, Taka took a step to the side, and spoke his voice weary, "Will you rest my friend? You cannot win; you've expended yourself too much."

"No! I can do this!" Regal raged. Soon grey energy flickered about the Sword demon, before it was launched in a wave at the Kensai. Snow was brought up into the wake and even the dirt itself was flung into the air with the sheer force of the blow. Finally it slammed into a tree and wood splintered into the area. A cloud of debris slowly fell about the battlefield in a haphazard way.

Regal hunched over his chest heaving in an attempt to draw in breath. Each ragged breath seemed to be an eternity of pain, as the blood left in his body slowly fell to the ground below, which soaked it up greedily. The snow and dirt fell slowly into place, leave serene scenery and exposing the truth;

Taka was no longer there.

He looked about crazed before an explanation was forthcoming in the form of a blade to his back. Arching with the pain he cried out in agony, his fragile body reaching its limit before a voice spoke calmly, "Sluggish moves such as that will not catch me Regal Burnswidth. If you wish to continue this fight, please, do not resort to them."

Regal turned his head as he lay hunched on the ground. A crazed look took form in his eyes as he focused on the sole target of his hate. Before him was a man who he could fight, who he could kill. Before him was a true challenge, one that made his heart race and his blood boil. Here, was the fight he had sought, to the point Karel was almost forgotten in his mind.

[Unfulfilled]

Leave him be, you can't take him at this point. Regal's blade sang through the air, clashing easily off the blade of the Akishiman. He growled, grunted, hissed, and cursed as his blade was parried, blocked, and dodged at every turn.

"I can take him!" Regal shouted, his craze for the title Saint of Swords fueling his hate. Whoever this newcomer was he put up a far cry better fight than Karel had, and Regal wanted to kill him for it.

The new fighter's mask gleaned in the sunlight, sometimes creating a glaring blow that made Regal retreat. This rage caused him to move swifter and swifter, until his body was an extension of some puppet master, no longer were his movements human like.

Yet it still wasn't fast enough.

The man known as Taka blocked each and every blow, his blade an extension of his will, and his feet moving in a flash. No matter how fast Regal became, he wouldn't be able to match that speed.

I'M NEARING MY LIMITS YOU IDIOT, PULL BACK OR WE'LL BOTH DIE! the demon inside Regal begged, and the sword demon scoffed at his cowardice.

"I'd rather die with blade in hand than run like a coward." The demon's power began to wane, and Regal felt his speed slowing. "Don't let me down, you parasite!" Regal hissed, and felt his joints giving into one more go, a final push of strength.

"I am beginning to wonder, my slow friend, if you are either insane talking to yourself, or you happen to be corrupted." Regal's eyes met the Akishiman's, and behind them he saw a flash of some primal, darker presence.

"I see you have the filth of a parasite in you as well, no wonder you are so good and fast, it's not you. Heh, the saint of swords is a cheater."

"I beg to differ, my deluded friend." Taka rose his blade up quickly, and Tenacity flew into the air, spinning wildly far away from Regal. "My Oni is not a parasite to me, and I do not leech off him like you do, Espada no Oni. That sweat, that blood, give it four minutes tops and you will stain my new kimono as the energies binding your wounds give out."

Dammit Regal, he's right! I can't hold much longer if you fight. Retreat you damned fool! regal growled in pent up frustration, his fists flying out in wild punches, his hatred giving in as he tried his damnedest to land a blow on Taka.

Taka lifted one hand, and prepared, but Regal lifted himself up in a flying upwards flip kick, his chin hitting Taka in the face, knocking the mask off. Regal landed, his body standing tall. He gave off a smug look as he saw Taka slowly rise from the blow, his eyes looking him with no sign of malice or hate.

Idiot! I warned you! Regal's eyes suddenly bulged, and blood exploded from his stomach and shoulders. A shower washed over Taka, the blood spilling onto his cheek. He didn't flinch as Regal dropped to his knees before his new found mortal foe.

Had Regal fought this man from the start, perhaps it would have been different, maybe the fight would have swung the other way. But his energies were spent on Karel and he had nothing left for a fresh opponent of a skill of that caliber. Yet instead of fearing the man, Regal just laughed, a high pitched laugh as he felt his blood rush out of him. The demon inside him joined his howl of sadistic glee, as Regal let out a powerful wave of gray energy that surrounded him as if he was on fire.

"NOW," Regal shouted, another voice echoing within him. "NOW I FEEL FULFILLED!"

[Dissinger]

Majora Zaro...

Seth's mind raced as he watched his opponent warily. His eyes never leaving the arm that held the green orb, even when he began to go through the information he had possessed as a Traitor General of the Hex Magi armies. His caution however, was unfounded for while the spell created an orb, the effect was not to target Seth.

Bringing his hand down to the ground, thousands upon thousands of knives sprung up about the Hex Magi. They blossomed and grew to varying lengths, some as tall as a short sword, others as small as a punching dagger. Seth could tell this garden was deadly, but the damage would be born of hos sole, rather than his souls.

"Zaro? Aren't you the forgotten family?" Seth asked, as the name finally clicked. He paced slowly about the edge of the spells area of effect. The man turned to face him, and Seth made mental note the knives shrank away from their master, and grew in his wake. This maneuver was perfectly safe fore the magi, something that made Seth feel uneasy. This wasn't a trick he could make backfire.

"Forgotten? No, we aren't so lucky! We are the fools of fate's fortune. We, the greatest of Mordechai's creations must cling to the shadows like a vampire! We must hide ourselves, for fear our brother's and Sisters will kill us! We who have the tactical genius of Lord Cesarino, and the ruthless cunning of Lord Cardenas," The man seethed as spittle flew from his mouth, each word drenched in an inch thick layer of hatred.

"So you're the Hunted, the family stricken from the records for your unpredictability," Seth returned, letting his breath go. This would be easier than he thought. The man was a lunatic and his brand of crazy was predictable. It woudl attempt to destroy Seth body and mind. Seth looked at the knives before he took his first step.

He felt the pain course through his system, but rather than his feet taking the brunt of pain, an explosion of blood left his chest as he arched his back. He stumbled a few steps only to find more wounds inflict themselves upon his flesh. Oblivious however he could only see memories flash through his eyes. Even when he looked about unseeing he saw the thousands of people he tortured and killed. The nameless the friendless, the ones who sought to please him when he was a Hex Magi. Had he wanted, he could have formed an army, and driven the cattle towards their leaders in a destructive surge.

Instead he had brutally slaughtered each of them, using them up and tossing them away as a dried husk, to prevent people from trailing him. Their voices form a choir of screams about him that threatened his strained sanity, and had he not the presence of mind to remember these were only memories, he surely would have snapped. Having not moved and standing ten feet from Majora he gripped his head before slowly, the images faded,t he magic exhausting itself against his Iron Will.

"Points for targeting my memories, but it'll take more than nameless figures to stop me," Seth managed as he looked at the man. He seemed to be sweating despite the ample time he had to attack the thief. Seth was unsure as to what was going on, as he watched before he realized the truth.

He's concentrating on the spell, he can't attack because he knows he has to keep it up...

Gathering his will he forced it about him like a cloak, before he stepped towards the man, only eight feet away now. More images flashed, but he held his focus, knowing that he could not repent for sins that he had already been punished for. It helped him, until he was but two steps away from the man. Only two steps and he could end the illusions.

Steam erupted from the thief in geysers. Each from the myriad of wounds Seth had subjected himself to in order to reach the Hex Magi. It was an assault upon his body and mind, and Seth realized his body was about to give out, without the iron will he had prided himself on to fuel his body, he couldn't hold out. But to let his willpower fade from his mind, would cause him to be unable to see Majora to fight him.

It was a true conundrum, but one he knew he could overcome if he just held out for two more steps.

Forcing his body to take the next step, he was no longer assaulted by a myriad of visions. He saw only one, one of himself hunched on the ground, having survived a vicious blow from a spear. He knew the memory before he could even place the location, even if it was in his hometown of Lavinya. Here, he had killed his former best friend Thomas Erikson. In many ways this was the first kill of many that had caused the thief to become the Lavinian Demon, the sacrifice of a friend.

A low growl left his lips as he had already come to find Thomas in the aftermath. Even in the afterlife Thomas had held no malice towards the former Thief Extraordinaire. And it was with this he had taken the final step, and been within reach of the Magi.

Hell awaited him on that final step.

Seth pulled the dagger before he rushed forward and stabbed the woman deeply in the chest. Tears streamed down his eyes as he committed the act, while she let out a wet gasp and looked him in the eyes. For an eternity it seemed they met, and finally she nodded. Her arms slowly wrapped around the thief lovingly in a final embrace. Moving her mouth to his ear she whispered softly, "I love you too son..."

Immediately he hit the ground, the image so strongly rooted in his deepest nightmares he could no longer see the magi before him. A scream of anguish left his lips, even before he realized the cry sounded far too inhuman. Tears streamed down his face as he curled up into a ball at the Magi's feet, the torment of reliving the scene that was the source of his self loathing too much to bear.

[KOA]

Majora watched as Seth paced the garden of chaos at his feet. He was analyzing the move, and it was a measure of respect the Dahlios General could have given to him, but he made one mistake, and that was he thought he knew Majora’s madness.

Ten feet away he saw the Lavinian demon stumble, his breath gasping in shock as blood erupted not from his feet, but his chest. Then the images began to invade him, making the attack a two front. In all of Hex magic there were but a babes handful of more powerful spells. This move wasn’t used on Seth merely as a show of power, but a tactical practicality.

Seth was limited to most of his attack in a melee range, so making him crawl through his thorns were an issue, but he also knew that to get a title like Lavinian demon, one would have gone to the depths of hell itself and return, an eternity of damnation in his wake. His mind was a steel trap, and this spell would make it snap upon himself.

His eyes widened however as Seth righted himself and took a few feet forward. Only five people managed to make it past the first step, and he chastised himself for thinking the great Seth would be anything weaker than that. He continued to crawl through the garden, and when he was five feet away Majora realized that only one other person had made it that far. That person died on the next step, and it was his own father who had taught him the spell.

Nobody ever made it past five feet, and yet Seth was now in front of him. His eyes widened in horror as he looked at the Lavinian demon, his mind unable to comprehend how he could still be standing, and there it was, the final step, daggers in hand as he prepared for the final attack to kill Majora.

But the step faltered, his eyes fluttering into the back of his head as a cry of anguish filled the air. A wail so powerful it made Majora drop his spell and fall back a few feet as the inhuman cry washed over him. Whatever it was that made Seth crumble was a powerful memory of some crime that not even Majora would ever be able to comprehend, but in the ned he had defeated the demon, as he lied upon the ground in a wreck.

It took a moment to regain his bearings, but once he did he worked fast. He took his parrying dagger in hand and walked forward, like one would be stalking a prey. He lowered onto his haunches, lifting Seth’s head up seeing the tears brimming his eyes.

“Y-Y-You BASTARD!” Seth shouted as the tears began to flow.

“One could say the same about you, Seth.” Majora replied. “I say this is only a fair treatment for one such as you, who abonded father’s plan. My own family hunted me down like a black sheep, and you said and did nothing. I wasn’t destined to be a shade in the shadows, I was destined to be the greatest bloodline, more powerful than the Dahlios.” Majora let out one last sigh, as he realized Seth had subscribed to his doom.

“It’s so mind bogglingly annoying to exist in the shadows like I do when it was the Dahlios bloodline that betrayed the works of father! You and Sarah and Jared and Samantha! You all forsake your duties, never fulfilling your obligations to father! The only one who did anything right was Serenity! Yet it was the Zarro clan that is hunted? It was us who were punished? No, I will take your head, take your daggers, and return to the general’s embrace once again!”

Standing up to his full height he looked at Seth with eyes of pure hatred. He lifted one hand up ready for the killing blow, and felt it fitting that the sun was blocked showing only darkness upon Seth Dahlios.

[The Black Waltz Project]

The wind shuffled the leaves upon the ground in a whirling dervish of autumn colors, the dirt whisking away as the sentinel creature looked to the sky and saw the sun for what had to be the first time in over fifteen years. It hurt him to look upon the brightness, and he lowered his trimmed pointed wizards hat over his face, hiding his eyes and face in a cloud of darkness. He took in along drag of the mountain air, and he felt a vigor of something invigorating penetrate his lungs and he nearly coughed in the elation of such a feeling.

He took one last look in on the surrounding area, and with a definitive nod of approval he took in one breath, both fists thrust to the ground at his sides palms open. “Heavens of the earth, gods of the sky, hear me plead to you with this cry. Grant me your speed, swift as a soaring steed. Take my hands and make them yours, twirl the wind to do your chore. Wash this earth of impurity, blow it all away into serenity!” The spell crackled with eldritch powers a she spoke, and his hands trembled before wind blew out the palms of his hands. He soared high into the air and he flew at high speeds as he looked upon the earth for the meeting place.

At long last he had found the clearing, a sunken in pathway where an avalanche had fallen. Outside the entrance were three warriors; one upon the ground lying in a pool of his own blood, and the other two holding at a stand off before one recklessly charged forward like a rampaging bull. He dove downwards hitting upon the top of the mountain with the grace of a bird as he dusted himself off, letting his long blue robes wash out before him. Just in time, He thought to himself. He casually walked downwards upon the slope into the boxed in area. It was covered in snow, making it near impossible to break though.

He laughed at the challenge like it was a nothing.

Rising off the ground only a few feet he let his hands raise upwards in supplication before he slammed them downwards, roaring a spell upon his lips. “Sun of the heavens, heat of the god forge burn a hole though the earth!” The heat he created between both hands melted the snow like it was nothing unveiling a hole for him to crawl through. He slowly made his way down the path and his skin began to tingle in excitement. Powerful magics were at work and his body began to absorb the energies, allowing his brain to analyze it with careful consideration.

“Hex Magic,” he summarized with a single thought. He moved cautiously into the shadows, but saw that the fight going on was nearing it’s end. He observed the two, one who’s face was bridled with agony and remorse, the other’s full of spite and malice. The victor was clearly given to the warrior of hate and the mage made a move to drive home his will though the losers skull.

He approached silent as a mouse, his feet making no sound as he stood behind the smaller mage, the sun blocked by his height. He watched as the hand lifted up, and a calm, chill hand rose up grabbing by the wrist.

Had this been in the heat of battle, the hex mage probably would have instinctively countered the move, but the shock that someone was with him caught him off guard allowing the taller mage to wrench his hand so he bent backwards. The hex assassin spat curse after curse as he tried to break free, but the other mage soaked and drained the magical energy away from his target.

“Damnation,” he spat as he at last was able to cartwheel out, breaking the hold as he skipped back two beats. “Who in the great father’s name are you?” He spat, holding up his dagger and reaching for his whip. The taller mage laughed in mirth, feeling the fear wash out from both men. He looked down and saw the mortally defeated warrior look up to him, a look of wonder in his eyes.

“My name,” he said casually looking over to the assassin. “Is Wilfred. Wilfred Waltz.” The hex mage titled his head in confusion, before Seth’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “But some hex magi, the exclusive ones, know me as the Black Waltz Project.” The hex mage lifted his hand up, summoning hex magic to him, but a casual hand rose up in defiance, and the orb appearing in the hex mage’s hand dispersed to nothingness.

“I,” He said full of terror. “You,” he stumbled trying to find words as Wilfred stood between the fallen warrior and the assassin. “You’re supposed to be in Haidia! Father had trapped you there, foiling any plans to stop him! You couldn’t have defeated Kycoo! The project was a failure!” The hex mage shouted in anger, venom coating his words.

“Only a slave signs himself to the whims of fate.” Wilfred corrected, waving a finger as if this was a common fact. The Black Waltz Project was a means to end the threat of Hex Magi once and for all. The greatest warriors and magi forty years ago had developed a plan to send one, powerful mage down to the depths of Haidia and end kill off Mordechi’s prized son, Kycoo. After the death of Kycoo the project would kill Mordechi.

To aid in this plan, Kai Atari, the blessed Saint of Swords, had created a way to weed out and find a warrior strong enough to kill off Lazarus, Mordechi’s brother, in the real world. That warrior was none other than Karel Hector Raven, who took the title with him when Kai was killed by his hands. The death however was but the first step in the plan.

A family of prominent black magi, the Waltzes, signed up so sacrificing their own family name to create a golem made from the flesh of the mother of Wilfred’s brother and sister, and his power would be augmented by his siblings upon their deaths. Then Wilfred was to die and go to Haidia where he would hunt and kill Kycoo. The term Black was used for the magic he wielded, Waltz for the family that sacrificed their name for the sake of the final term project, for nobody really knew if it would work.

“Little Hex Mage, I have fought, lived, breathed and died. I have come back from death to fight again, and this man at my feet,” he gestured to Seth. “Was a comrade in those trying times. While he won’t be able to remember these times considering he was dead, I can with full clarity.” Seth looked to Wilfred, before his eyes shot open.

“You’re the one! The specter, the only specter I couldn’t remember from my time in that hell!” Wilfred nodded once, smiling under his hood. Majora on the other hand, didn’t seem to give a damn.

“Both your heads will make Father pleased! He will have no choice but accept as his favorite son and restore my family’s glory!” He charged forward, his whip cracking the earth towards Wilfred, but he kept his stance neutral until the last possible second, when an oak staff twirled into twisted knots at the tip flew out from his robe into his hand, where it blocked a blow aimed for his face. The staff opened itself, unbinding and swallowed the whip as it wound around the shaft, holding it in place.

The assassin kept his charge coming, sliding into Wilfred’s feet holding his dagger to the side. With a deft motion Wilfred turned his balance as a sheet of ice erupted, blocking the path between Wilfred and the blade as it bit deep into the frozen block.

Wilfred took his hand held it out, focusing his eyes upon his fingers as a strip of fire as wide as his palm flew forward. Majora’s eyes widened and he felt the heat against his skin intensify, and he rolled away from Wilfred, cursing and shouting as he got back up.

“What’s wrong,” Wilfred asked curiously. “Do you not want what you seek? Do you not have the righteous vigor to stop those that stand in your way? If your will is so weak that you can’t stop a mere golem than I am afraid you are never going to get the revenge you so desperately seek.” Wilfred unwrapped his hold on the whip, tossing it to the warrior. His eyes narrowed on him, his golden orbs shining clearly despite the rest of his face being hidden.

“There is nothing you can do, little hex mage.” Wilfred said plain as day. “There is nothing you can think of that I simply can’t deny.”

[KOA]

Majora watched the mage with careful eyes before he formulated a plan. Using his wits he darted off to the side, chanting on his lips, “Your mind can’t trust what your eyes can see…” and he felt his body go into the invisible state. He rounded upon the corner, using the walls to run along hiding his footsteps as he leapt up into the cave landing upon a fallen rock from the avalanche.

He waited with the patience of a hunter, and when Wilfred turned his back to Majora he sprung forward. He held his blade outwards, his skin feeling the icy bite of the air around him, and he felt his blood boil in anticipation. He got closer and closer, the air getting colder until at long last he realized he was in a league far out of his own.

Three pillars of ice erupted as if from nowhere, materializing around Wilfred like hounds. At the tip was the face of a huge snarling wolf as each one bent outwards to hit Majora from different directions. Even if he tried to use his preternatural agility he wouldn’t be able to dodge them all. The Hounds of ice formed in on him, and he felt his entire being get washed over with the freezing touch of the pillars. He felt his body rise to the ceiling where he was slammed into it, like a giant using his fist to squish him against a wall. As the pillar released him and he free fell he felt another dart from an angle, hitting him square in the chest causing him to slam into the cave wall. The force of the blow caused a mini avalanche as the rocks that broke through the ceiling tumbled out of the way.

Again he fell, and this time he was hit hard in the back where he was pushed to the ground crying out in agony. His dagger spun out of his grip and he was now weaponless. Wilfred walked over to the Magi with a grace of a champion, his features hidden behind his damnable hat.

“I’m not even really trying,” Wilfred taunted. “These old hounds haven’t hunted in years, and they were rather slow considering where I know they should be.” Majora felt blood pool at his lips, and he coughed up his own life fluid.

I’m out of my class here. The surprise is gone and I lost my chance to walk away victorious. But maybe… Majora lifted his hand forward, looking deep into Seth’s eyes as the mage looked to Wilfred. “You’re nothing but a puppet on strings…” he said, a dark crimson orb forming into his hands as it was prepared to fly out to Seth. But just as the spell was created another, more powerful spell, blasted into it creating a small explosion singeing his face. He howled in frustration and pain as he gnashed his teeth and snarled at Wilfred.

“Must I repeat myself,” Wilfred said, his tone more deadly and heavy set. “There is nothing you can do that I simply can’t deny! I was created to literally hunt and kill the strongest of all the hex magi!” Majora felt his limbs growing numb, and he coughed up more blood as he tried to respond. I’m not going to make it at this rate. Better to beg for forgiveness… he thought bitterly as he reached for a vial in his pockets.

“Listen to me, Seth Dahlios!” Majora shouted, lifting himself upwards. “You’re life was sparred today by the glorious graces of the goddess of luck! If it were not for this puppet you would be dead. Do you hear me, demon?” He shouted lifting the vial over his head. “Next time we meet you will not be so lucky!” With those words shouted he slammed the vial into the ground, a puff of smoke enshrouding him.

The vial contained a liquid that was not just a simple escape gas, but an actual potion that would allow him to teleport one hundred yards away so long as he had the image of the location fresh in his mind. He felt his body twist as the magic of the vortex consumed him, his body lurching as he felt his bile rise. The sensation made him want to vomit, but he kept it all in check.

As he opened his eyes he looked to see a strange man before him, a native of Akashima, protecting a fallen Karel from the deluded idiot Regal. The demon of sword’s body was ravaged with cuts and blood poured out from a score of cuts. He lifted his hands up in challenge, bellowing about being fulfilled, and he realized immediately that Regal was about to get himself killed.

“Regal you idiot!” Majora shouted full of rage. “Do you not even notice when your bleeding to death?” Regal didn’t even register the fact Majora appeared as he began his charge, serrated blade in hand as he ran forwards blindly into the danger. Majora sighed heavily as he stood in front of Regal, lifting one palm up and whispering, “Why don’t you just close your eyes…” A white orb of light appeared and slammed into Regal, causing the warrior to fall into Majora’s grip.

He turned to the Akashiman and he gave him a curt nod. “If you’ll excuse us, I must be making our leave. Regal would love to play, but obviously the fool didn’t do his homework.” The foregin warrior gave him a simple nod back, but lifted his blade up all the same.

“I am sorry, but a monster like that has no reason to live in a world such as this. I will have to fight you both if that’s your wish.” Majora felt his ire rise, realzing he was running out of power to fight this battle. He did however have one last trick up his sleeves.

“Don’t you ever feel like the weight of the world is upon your feet…” another orb lifted from his hand, and it hit the foreigner full in the chest. He tried to move, but his feet replied far to sluggishly. Realizing he was getting nowhere anymore the warrior sheathed his blade. “That’s what I thought,” Majora said full of hatred and malice.

He gave a sideways glance over to Karel. “Looks like two people lucked out this time.” He muttered seeing karel try to stand, and fall. “So Regal actually beat the crap out of you, Raven?” He clucked his tongue in disapproval. “You’re a joke,” he said disgracefully. “But no matter, all these kills were prize kills. Only one matters, and chances are she’s already dead.” Majora taunted. Without preamble Karel’s mouth worded the name ‘Liliana’ and Majora gave him a cruel grin.

“Til next time!” he saluted grabbing another one of his vials, slamming it upon the ground thinking of the location where Vladimir was.

[Liliana Ambria]

Liliana moved back slowly over the ground, struggling to keep her feet from slipping upon the wet ground. The slush of the melting snow and the forest detritus made things hard for the most part, but she held on to hope that she could figure something out. The madman had her weapon, and Seth was nowhere to be found. While she had narrowly avoided becoming another puppet spawn of her god, she also had traded an eternal life of servitude, for something far worse in her opinion.

Seth had gotten lucky once in resurrecting her, she doubted he could repeat the act.

Angel Slayer will not harm its mistress; do not be so foolish as to believe that. Now stop your craven tactics and fight as a Cleric of Uriel.

Uriel's voice boomed through her, and while she knew Vlad could not hear it, she winced as it rang in her ears. Now she understood the situation, the tattoos she had taken upon herself in exchange for the continued use of a deity's powers. It wasn't so much that Uriel controlled such people that held onto him for too long, as he absorbed them into his person. Their soul no longer resided there, and Liliana had been a heartbeat from death.

It chilled her to say the least. However, while she was chilled in both body and mind, none of this truly mattered as much as the swordsman attacking her. He rushed forward bringing the swords in an arc before her, and she feigned fear holding up her hand, in an effort to ward off his attack. She could almost see the look of glee upon his twisted face, as he thought her an easy kill.

Youthful enthusiasm cannot beat a thousand years of experience and treachery, Liliana remembered as a smile graced her lips. While Uriel himself had not told her to perform such an act, she knew it was certainly an act he would find appropriate. When Validmir Sigma was well within the muddy ground and slush, she spoke the word firmly, letting her frustrations exert more force upon the world than Vlad had given her credit for, "Ort."

The swordsman, rushing through the snow slicked grounds found that his tread was perilously balanced, and with the slight shove that she had exerted over him, he was sent spilling upon the ground. Angel Slayer slid through the mud to her, while his own blade was barely held in hand. Gripping the hilt calmly she looked down upon it before she said firmly, "One should avoid using another's weapons against them, for they cannot fathom the choices that weapon has decided."

Bringing the blade up in a defensive stance she felt her resolve slowly return, even as the shadowy tattoos slowly shrank from her face and hand, slipping back under her clothing. Uriel's grip was slowly fading from her body, and she felt more control over her body, rather than the feeling of wrongness she could only describe as the experience of being in another's body.

Vladimir looked at the woman with an intense look of hatred before he charged forward, and Liliana found herself once again weathering the storm. This time, she knew she had only to hold out. It was a fire that kindled in her chest, even as she barely forced the man's sword away from her more vital areas. She needed only time, and each parry, each blow was executed fully to force Vladimir to reach a ready position once more, taking precious seconds.

Seth could not be beaten, and he would come for her soon enough.

[KOA]

Being a veteran of countless battles, Vladimir saw through the tactic that Liliana displayed. She was no longer trying to win this fight, but rather stalling in the fight, getting ready for her husband to come and save the day again.

Vladimir wondered if that idea had merit to it. Surely one who felt no fear of death such as Vladimir had nothing to fear from the Lavinian demon. Even if Majora failed in his task for revenge he was confident he could withstand the assault from the hex mage. However Vladimir wasn’t so sure of his chances if Liliana waited in the shadows, ready to strike him when Seth had him pinned. He figured he could make a play for the win if he overwhelmed Liliana, but the corruption in her soul seemed to fade away, and Vladimir didn’t know whether she could call upon that power again. He knew a round two wouldn’t end favorably.

He thrust his sword forward, hoping to strike her cheek, but Angel Slayer rose up blocking the blade outwards into the chill air. Vladimir rotated with the blow, swinging a wild two handed vertical cut that Liliana wasn’t prepared for. Angel Slayer fell upon the ground as she tried to block the blow, and blood erupted from a shallow cut across her chest. Had the Masamune been an inch longer, the blow would have killed her.

“You really need to learn to watch your toys more closely,” Vladimir taunted grabbing her by the front of her shirt dragging her to him. “You wouldn’t want to lose them when you need the most.” Liliana gave him a worried glance, before she showed her teeth in a snarl of challenge.

“We were taught to protect our most precious trinkets over toys.” She retorted, bringing her knee up into Vladimir’s groin. Instantly his hand dropped from her shirt as he recoiled in pain, his eyes narrowing as he winced in pain. He willed himself to stand straight, but he couldn’t so much as move as he stumbled backwards.

The move gave her enough time to retrieve her blade, but more importantly start a dead sprint as she ran back for the cave towards the avalanche. The dark knight groaned as he began a half shuffle, half jog after her rubbing his tender area to get rid of the soreness. He noticed she was already making a large gap between them and he fought past the pain as he rushed after her, Masamune held loosely to the side.

He was upon her in a matter of seconds grabbing for her flowing hair, reaching it and tearing her down to the ground like a pig. She screamed in pain and terror as she fought with him, but Vladimir had enough of her games and tricks. He lifted the Wo Dao up to finish her, but his blood turned to ice when he heard a blood curdling cry of anguish. It was inhuman in nature and it made him shudder at what could produce such a sound. Liliana heard it as well, and she shivered from the cry as her eyes widened in horror.

He thought it about for a split second and realized what she was so afraid of.

“You’ve known the entire time Seth was in trouble, didn’t you?” Vladimir said in wonder. Liliana crawled on the ground away from the dark knight, looking up at him with teary, wide eyes. Vladimir lifted his head up to the heavens, laughing at her fear as he slowly stalked forward. “Oh yes, it is him you foolish child. He’s the one who screamed like a banshee, and soon your cries will join his chorus.” He lifted his blade, and Liliana hit the back of the mountain, her hands searching, pleading for something to help her. As the blade lowered a puff of purplish smoke took the spot where she was, and Vladimir looked at the trace and recalled a single memory. He sighed heavily in irritation as he turned around.

“This is getting really annoying,” Vladimir whined. “I never expected to see you again.” Vladimir said, looking at the newcomer to the fight. “But then again, after the fight I’ve been having I should have expected this…” he said getting ready.

[Dissinger]

The Lavinian was left prone on the ground, curled up into a ball. The visage of his mother, even with her dying words professing motherly love creating a chill in his core. It was a surreal vision, one that he had seen countless times in nightmare, where he had torn the flesh off his own face revealing a sadistic demon beneath. A man who had offered up his own parents to rescue the tattered remnants that comprised of his soul.

The ghost, Wilfred Waltz stepped forward and knelt beside him, before his words focused in the thief's head, cutting through the fog of memories;

"Can you stand Demon?"

Seth grunted softly, before his voice spoke, "I suppose." The tone was weathered and tired, the fear racing through each word, underlining it, crossing every "t" and dotting every "i". It was obvious that whatever the thief had seen in that field of knives, was enough to shake him to his very core. In a year of atrocities, the vision was powerful indeed to have such an effect on the Lavinian.

Slowly pulling himself to his feet he groaned softly feeling the pain course through his veins. The cruel mistress that had inoculated him to the ugly truths of this world was now assaulting him with her barbed whip. Each movement a lash of torment, each step another lesson in Pain. Seth ignored it for the most part, for while he was adept in the ways of pain, he preferred to be the teacher, rather than a student.

Looking about the trees his eyes scanned the horizon before he spoke, "Why are you here Wilfred? The last time I saw you, you were searching hell itself for Kycoo and had failed to find him."

"I have been given another task, it’s not my destiny to find Mordechai's greatest mistake anymore," The flesh golem replied. Seth looked briefly at the black mage before he nodded thoughtfully. Suddenly a thought raced through his mind, demanding his attention while stabbing into his guilt complex deeper and deeper.

"Where's Liliana?"

Before Wilfred could even see fit to answer the question, Seth had already raced off. Screaming at the top of his lungs, hoping she'd call out his name, he raced to the entrance of the canyon, praying to the gods above that he would find her in time. Before he got far he felt a hand roughly grab the back of his shirt and forced him to remain still. He turned glaring angrily at the Black mage as he turned to go, only to have his arm grabbed tightly.

“Don’t, we need to regroup with the Ronin and our other team member,” The cautionary words held a hint of hope in them. Even as the Hex Magi roughly tore his arm from the mage’s grasp.

“Don’t tell me what we need to do. I did not crawl through Sintyre just to lose her again Wilfred. Don’t you dare tell me what to do right now!”

“She will be fine, let’s regroup with the others now, so when we rush to her aid, we can overwhelm their forces and rescue her, rather than risk losing her in spite of our preparations,” The eldest Waltz answered.

“What in the nine layers of hell are you yapping about Wilfred? What preparations, what others? You mean Karel?” Seth stumbled forward a step while he attempted to move outward, and find his wife. Wilfred kept a hand on the wounded Lavinian’s shoulder before he patted it firmly, causing the Demon to wince in pain.

“You aren’t in any condition to fight further today Dahlios. The fact your standing is a testament to your will, but you don’t have what it takes right now, trust me on this old friend-“

“If you’re going to ask me to abandon my wife, you’re no friend of mine golem,” Seth spat.

[Lavinian Pride]

"I warned you, didn't I?"

The words were callously cold, even as the figured that unleashed then gently ground a boot into ground, giving herself a bit of traction, even before she raced forward, leaving the downed form of Liliana on the ground beside her. Muscles surged in a burst of speed that saw the mortal man unable to keep up.

He had drank in enough of her details to know exactly who it was. The sports top held her chest closer to her body, keeping it from getting in the way. The old blue shorts, lined in silk designed to give her freedom of movement, and modesty even now were stretched wide in an attempt to cover her private areas. Her belt of daggers was still haphazardly slung around her waist, if only to accentuate the splay of her hips, rather than actually hold weapons of murder.

Sarah Dahlios had come to Liliana Ambria's aid.

While the Lavinian Succubus sped at him, he knew that even if he couldn't follow her with his eye, his blade could surely work. Swinging it he let a dispassionate sneer cross his lips. The blade might have connected, had she not suddenly appeared from a shadow behind him, and brought her boot around in a savage kick that snapped bones in his chest. Before the cry of pain could even begin, a hand was planted on the ground before the booted feet were shooting upward, in a blow that sent Vladimir off his feet.

Before he could even begin to fall to the ground, another explosion of purple smoke sent her below the figure, and the punishment continued. A kick sent him continuing on his course, and another followed suit soon afterwards. Each blow kept him aloft in a childish game of kick the ball, sending him all about the clearing, even as a mortal body would have given out. The sword slashed wildly, even as the laws of nature stated his arms had no solid bone left to complete their arc of travel.

"I told you, if you ever messed with my family, or my friends, ever again I would make you suffer. I may not be able to kill you, but by the end of this, you will have no shred of dignity left, and I can keep this up all day," The woman hissed, even as she finally snapped her boot down in a crushing kick that sent the swordsman to the ground.

Stalking about her prey the hair finally came to a halt, before it formed in the casual ponytail he knew she favored. His eyes locked with the warm brown ones of the Vampiric vixen, and the Knight knew he wasn't going to have an easy fight on his hands. Slowly recovering to his feet the last Knight of the Apocalypse looked directly into the wench's eyes as a burning hatred overshadowed his.

"I know your tricks, I taught you them," Vlad spat venomously.

"That's nice, if you think I haven't changed since then, feel free to try me Knight. You messed with my Kin, and now you pay the price..."

[Zantetsuken]

"Just what the hell is going on?" Karel said loudly, slowly standing up to meet Taka's gaze. "Last thing I know I'm fighting one bad memory of my past, when suddenly another bad memory takes his place to defend me!" Taka merely shrugged his shoulders as he strode over to Karel, kneeling before him and looking to his wounds.

"It's not just me that has come to the aid of your friends, but a multitude of others. A golem and blood drinker have come as well, but I suspect you do not know them as well as Seth would." Taka admitted, pulling out his bandages. "I came only because she mentioned that you were travelling with them. I knew immeadietly that Kensai Atari's prized student would need my help. Turns out, Karel-sama, that you did indeed need my help."

Karel let out a soft snort. "Ya, and how long were you watching until you decided you should help me?" Taka looked up to Karel, grinning at him. "You little," Karel sassed, but he grinned nevertheless at the man. "You been okay, your taint looks a little more managed." Karel observed, remembering the story of Taka that he was told.

"It's getting better, but then again, exactly how better can one get when possessed by an oni?" Karel nodded in agreement.

"Grouper Taka," Karel joked, remembering the nickname that Kai Atari gave to Taka, because he was always so dour and serious. Taka rolled his eyes at the name. "Bethany! It's okay to come out now!" Karel shouted, and instantly the slender frame came running out of the shadows, her arms held open wide as her eyes were filled with tears. She slammed into Karel, knocking him down as she sobbed into his chest.

"I swear to god Karel, I keep thinking I'm going to lose you! You've scared me, I thought that mad man was going to kill you!" She screamed into his chest, but Karel just gently stroked her hair.

"Karel-Sama, we don't have time to waste, we must-"

Karel already cut off Taka getting up with Bethany's help. "Lilianna, I know, we have to hurry. Come on, we should stop and see if Seth needs help!" He turned to Bethany. "It would be better if you waited a bit longer my love, don't worry, I have Taka now to watch my back. Stay safe my sweet." Karel said kissing her on the lips for a moment. Bethany nodded as she looked to the two men, and she began to cry again as she watched Karel use his time magic while Taka's flash step easily kept up with him.

"Be safe..." She whispered to them both.