He hadn’t even been aware of it, but Shinsou had actually fallen asleep for a few seconds. The momentary rest in the wake of Delath’s assault was less than soothing; abruptly ended by the snapping of Storm’s deadly electricity some hundred foot away from the splintered remains of a supply cart the Telgradian had propped himself up against. Shackles of fatigue bound his arms and legs as he dragged himself groggily along the bog-like field outside of the city gates that was now littered with the smoldering debris of their siege engines. The massive loss of these essential weapons compounded the other problems now facing the co-leader of the Brotherhood. The first one was the massive wall of Radasanthian men he could see through hazy eyes. They congregated and clustered at the maw of Radasanth’s lost gate, fighting for their lives against the Brotherhood soldiers Storm had sent in after his attack.

The second was morale. In the face of all the brutality and the killing, the soldiers were trying to weather the shitstorm of having both lost their weapons and the leadership of the electromancer, who had disappeared over the wall. Shinsou, wrapped in his signature white greatcoat, could see the guarded look in their eyes whenever the back line glanced his way over their shoulders. They needed something, anything, to give them a push. They needed to know that the Brotherhood hadn’t broken. The Telgradian could see past the marauding ranks, through to the defending Radasanthians. He could feel all of those eyes stabbing at him with their doubts, hate, and ill will.

Look at them. These soldiers here are sheep, feeling compelled to defend because it validates them. Is it because they live in a society where their contributions are routinely ignored, and their wellbeing neglected? Is it escapism? Either way, it plays into the Assembly’s hands. This show they are putting on is one meant solely to garner their hatred of us, to deflect from the idea that there is another way for this country to be run.

It felt as if, in that moment, all of Corone was screaming at Shinsou. A harsh wind now assaulted his face and white garbed body, and newly formed tears of rain settled translucent on his clothes. Watching as his struggling men looked for positive reinforcement, something snapped to life within the Telgradian. There was no point wasting any more time or men for the sake of hiding his true power, when not a man or woman alive would gain anything from just seeing it. Embracing this second wind, Shinsou flicked a mass of saturated brown hair from his face.

“Come, Enpera!”

In response, spirit particles manifested and smothered the palm of his hand. An intricate arcane glyph smoldered in the flesh as the Telgradian’s sword violently snapped into existence. He curled his dirty fingers one by one around the green cord of the katana and, as he did, Telgradia’s most powerful warrior rose to his full height. Cramped muscles spasmed into life as whorls of malicious light enveloped his entirety. The Brotherhood soldiers in the rear of the assault noticed the enormous, disquieting release of energy and those not fighting started to break to the flanks. Some of those stragglers stared in awe, whilst others looked at each other reassuringly. Their leader was famous for his reserved approach to fighting; never wanting to expend more energy than required. Even when fighting someone he considered an equal, the Telgradian was not known for pushing himself beyond his first few gears. Now, though, they watched the prelude to something that only a handful in existence had ever seen.

Shinsou’s Hakai.

Storm would have been proud, had he not been napping inside a house within the city limits. There was no silly spoken incantation accompanying Enpera’s release. There were no gestures, dances, or ceremonial motions. No filler, and no bullshit. What there was, was a sword big enough to cleave a horse in half extended before him, overlaid with a pulsating kaleidoscope of black and purple arcane electricity. Power surged like adrenaline at his every whim. Hakai had activated with such force that Shinsou found himself stood in the center of a small foxhole; the earth beneath him forced into cragged clay.

Then, golden eyes steeled on the Radasanthian wall of men, he stepped forth.

Two silent footfalls disguised the rest of his movements. As Shinsou careered towards the center of the wall, his hands flashed to his sides, palms downwards, and Enpera’s hundred and eighty centimeter blade carved a perfect diagonal arc across the wall of men. There was no discrimination in the chaos – most of the Brotherhood had seen fit to move out of the way, knowing what was likely coming, but a number of the front runners couldn’t keep up with the breakneck speed of the Telgradians movements and succumbed to the devastating slash. At least, for them, it was instant. A chaotic clatter of slashed armor, dropped weapons and pouches cascaded with their owner’s blood-soaked corpses to the cold stone archway of the crumpled gateway. A wall of purple backwash pierced the light, dazzling and disorienting, disappearing almost as soon as the sword stroke finished.

It was only a fraction of his power in this form, but the strike had wrought havoc on the living blockage, casting a dark flash into the high vaults and recessed alcoves of the entryway and most importantly had carved a path through the blockade into the city. The rows of soldiers that once stood in their way now parted slightly, their eyes alight with the remnants of their hatred for Shinsou but unsure of the wisdom of confronting him. The Telgradian knew they would converge and attack again at any minute, likely more feral than before, but all he cared about now was that he had unlocked the defense for his brethren. He could hear their cheers around him, a cacophony of rousing shouts and screams; the sign of a depleted force not willing to just lie down and die.

They could take it from here, and he shouted as much back to them before cutting his way through another small group of soldiers. There was a much more important matter to attend to; a meeting that had been destined for such a long time. As wind wafted through the limp strands of his sweat soaked hair, Shinsou reached out.

He reached out, and with his senses, he found her location. Judging from the sheer strength of her energy, as well as Delath's unexpected participation in events, Shinsou reckoned that she was nearby, in the heart of the action. After all, she was Radasanth's greatest defensive asset.

There was no question that title belonged to her. Philomel van der Aart was comparible to him on every level, and held a terrifying command over a number of forms and a working knowledge of geomancery. That was before taking into consideration her powerful familiars Veridian and Delath, who were equally as bent for revenge against him. The only way that the Telgradian was ever going to truly get near her was Hakai, but he had sincerely hoped it would never come to that.

...Because if i'm using Hakai in a fight, it means that things have gotten so bad that one of us is going to die...