Lye's expression soured under Seth's blatant mockery. His daughter at stake, the demon's pride reigned over her well being. Lye hope for a more amicable result, instead the old thief opted for confrontation. The assassin shook his head as liquid metal poured from Seth's gauntlets. As though on queue, Amari's unmistakable scarlet locks crested over the edge of the tower's platform.
"You're wasting time, Seth," Lye chastised. His words met the winds howl and swept far away from Seth's ears.
Every minute passed meant more time Samantha spent under Cassandra's corruption. Second by second, the thief's daughter grew further estranged from her father and her mother.
"Scarlet!" Lye shouted. "Keep your distance!"
The Seth Dahlios of the past proved a cunning, resourceful man. If this older husk of a man held any semblance of his youth, or forbid even greater strength, no trick or opportunity would go unused.
Lye watched shimmering silver take form. Links of chain solidified and rang out. The assassin aimed to answer to challenge and after evoking the curse of famine's black horse, he drew his second blade. Seth's foot raised and Lye rooted his stance.
"Ort." The word slipped from Lilliana's lips and settled in the air out of place and foreign. Lye questioned its purpose. A curse? A boon? A cough?
Regardless, the tell tale signs of attack read throughout Seth's body. Ferocity and malice worked into his features and the fluid chains swept out. Lye dropped forward and his weight locked him into a full sprint. The chain chimed overhead, a near miss of its intended target no thanks to faulty footing.
Lye sped inward, the curse of war in his left and famine in his right. His blood heated in his veins, the adrenaline of nostalgia pounded in his chest, and the wild blood-lust of a man maddened twisted the assassins pale features.