Heavy lies the Crown [Open]

[Shinsou Vaan Osiris]

As he sat in silence and stared at the wall of the inner chambers of the Citadel, the sound of an iron door creaking on its hinges suddenly pulled Shinsou Vaan Osiris back from the edge of infinity. His golden eyes followed the short, bald and orange robed attendant as he casually skirted past the Telgradian, placing a silver tray with some wine and bread down on the table in front of him. The monk seemed to be being careful to avert his gaze from Shinsou, although he couldn’t figure out why.

“Thanks.”

No reply. The monk looked past him, as if he weren’t even there, and left.

The Telgradian sighed. Even though he was in the Citadel, the whole atmosphere made it feel like he’d been remanded in some shithole prison. There were no windows in the inner chambers, with the only light coming from four oil slicked torches hanging on the walls. Even then, the light was distributed so thinly that it barely ate into the vast swathes of shadows. The furniture comprised a chair and a table, with no other amenities whatsoever.

No one expected the temporary quarters to be luxurious, but this was so far disconnected from reality that it was borderline offensive. He leaned over the tray, taking a bite from the bread roll between his fingertips. At least that was decent; It was surprisingly soft and buttery, and probably the first good thing about this particular visit.

Yes, this visit. Really, a visit that he never thought he’d make again anytime soon.

Shinsou was supposed to have sworn off battling in the Citadel a long time ago, after coming up against Felicity Rhyolite in what turned out to be less of a test of skill and more of an unrefined melee. The whole affair had surprised him. It had been exciting. Challenging, even. But after the fight had ended and the wounds had healed, he felt empty again.

It wasn’t so much that the Neanderthal had drained his will to fight these battles (quite the opposite, in fact), but it made him realise that the number of people who could push him even close to the ceiling of what he was capable of had dwindled. His dear friend, Storm Veritas, was frighteningly powerful but held little interest for fighting him (and in any case was busy attending to his deep well of personal needs and urges). There were rumours that Joshua Cronen had departed for foreign lands, and hadn’t been seen for a while now. John Cromwell was gods-knows-where. Felicity, he’d just fought. Philomel? Well, he just didn’t want to go there.

But, once again, he found himself once more at the world’s greatest arena, the subject of an anonymous invitation for another “deathmatch”. He was prepared for the whole matter to be underwhelming, but, like a worthless junkie carelessly hooked again after a year of cold turkey, he couldn’t let go of the habit. Shinsou wore attire that replaced his horribly pedestrian tunic, with his traditional white greatcoat, black shirt and pants, and boots. His weapon, Enpera, stood apart from the rest of him from its sheath at his side.

As for his host, Shinsou had tried to work out who called him here, and deduced it wasn’t a political or military opponent (he supposed that anyone who wanted him dead wouldn’t summon him to a place with instant resurrection).

So, who?

His question went unanswered, for now. It would become clear when the bright white light of the Citadel’s portal faded, and his time in the chamber of gladiatorial honour began.

[Rehtul Orlouge]

The sharp double clack of sandals on stone floors alerted Rehtul to the arrival of one of the Citadel's caretakers, a Monk of Ai'bron. He quickly marked his place in the book he'd been reading and looked up at the robed figure. The young man couldn't have been much older than the cryomancer himself, perhaps as old as thirty, though his face still had the rosy youthful look that the other, gaunt young man had long ago lost.

"Your guest has arrived," the monk said. Rehtul did little more than nod and roll his shoulders to work out the tension that had built up while he'd been hunched over his tome. He stood slowly and arched his back, both hands pressed into the spot just below his shoulder blades. He felt and heard a few satisfying pops and groaned in satisfaction.

"Good... I was beginning to worry he wouldn't show today, either," he said. It had been about a week and a half since he'd had one of his old subordinates who'd been in the Knights' wetworks division sent off to deliver that letter. Apparently Shinsou Vaan Osiris had been either indisposed or in a very out of the way location. Either way, it looked like the former assassin had managed to track down her quarry. It was satisfying to know that even without his former rank, he was still had enough respect from the other former Knights to ask for a favor now and then... though admittedly the five hundred gold up front from the family treasury had certainly helped.

"Would you like me to show you to the room you'll be sparring in?" the monk asked. Rehtul nodded his ascent and began following the man. Their footsteps echoed down the long, empty hall.

"Not much going on today, eh?"

"It's three in the morning," the monk replied with a chuckle.

"Wha-" was all Rehtul could get out of his mouth before the monk stopped short in front of him. He almost ran into the man's back and a jumbled apology fell from between his lips.

"This is the room. Good luck. You'll need it," the monk said coyly as he motioned for Rehtul to open the door.

The hell does that even mean? the mage wondered as he pushed open the door. Bright light blinded him as he felt the familiar disorientation that accompanied the transit into one of the building's many different arenas. He held an arm over his brow as his eyes adjusted to the increased light from the sun above. Shadows passed over the grass at the young man's feet, cast by the clouds above.

As his pupils finished dilating, Rehtul could now see that he was standing in the middle of forest clearing, not unlike what he'd find in the small forests outside of Radasanthia. The sound of rolling water hit his ears and he realized that there must have been a small stream nearby. He scanned the area for his opponent and was delighted to see that he was not too terribly far away.

"Lord Osiris, I presume," Rehtul began, not quite sure whether the man would prefer to be known by or even if he had an actual rank. It was a detail that Felicity had neglected to mention before she had run out of his room after their last fight.

"I am Rehtul Orlouge, formerly of the Ixian Knights. I will be your opponent."

[Shinsou Vaan Osiris]

Shinsou’s head tilted curiously for a moment as his opponent made his introduction, the pair standing outside the concealment of the dark boughs of the evergreen conifers and oaks. Lord Osiris? The honorific was appreciated, but unexpected. The shorter man wore an eye-catching mix of blue, white and black attire. Unlike most of the people he came to face in the Citadel, there was an intricacy wrought about the way Rehtul Orlouge dressed and spoke that definitely set him apart; everything from his robes to the garnet and sapphire rings on each hand. Doubtless, Shinsou thought to himself, a man dressed in the nobility of the family name.

“Rehtul Orlouge.” The Telgradian repeated, clicking his tongue against the inside of his cheek as the cool day’s breeze brushed against his skin. “The nephew of Sei Orlouge, if I am not mistaken? It seems the apple does not fall far from the tree.”

Osiris’s eyes had already swerved to the fore to scope out the arena that Rehtul had selected. He observed that thick foliage disguised one of nature’s cunning traps; a funnel of rock that guided a river into the mouth of the clearing. It went without saying that ninety percent of all Citadel arenas were crafted to give a home advantage, but if there was one, the Telgradian couldn’t see it yet. There was certainly nothing else immediately noticeable to be alarmed about.

“Forgive me,” He said after a moment’s pause, “I’m just trying to piece together what business a former Ixian Knight, an Orlouge no less, would have with me in a place like the Citadel. You see, we’ve never met, but I’m a student of history. I’ve read many books, and I’m aware of the significance of your bloodline and your connection with the Knights. Indeed, I hold a deep respect for the name. But, I wonder, do you fully understand the significance of mine?”

There was no need to qualify the organisation in question with a name. Only a handful of people in Corone didn’t know the Brotherhood, the organisation that had tried (and almost succeeded) in conquering Radasanth. The organisation that, since, had reformed and had actually made a contribution to the island’s economy and military presence.

An organisation that had effectively replaced the Ixian Knights in the present.

Shinsou Vaan Osiris was the first of two names on a list of Corone’s most dangerous and powerful men, but that didn’t necessarily mean that he had to intimidate this young Orlouge by actually making use of it. There could have been another reason for someone of Rehtul’s name to call him here. Seldom did anyone issue a specific challenge, out of the blue, just to fight. Was this a political move?

“Anyway,” Osiris continued with a wry wrinkle of his nose, “I’m sure we’ll get to the ‘why’s’ and ‘wherefores’ later.”

His senses started to pick up on the icy taint of magic that hung heavy over Rehtul Orlouge. It was if a chill had begun to blanket the forest now, eating away at the sanctified leaves like some corrosive acid, though the physical greenery remained untouched. The back of Shinsou’s head throbbed as if it were already under attack from the sheer force of Rehtul’s powers. The Telgradian had a feeling that there was a spellcaster in his midst, although he couldn’t tell what type of magic the young man yet subscribed to and could only tell from his eyes alone that the man appeared unarmed.

It would be foolish to assume that a mage with such a prestegious family name would ask for Osiris personally and not come prepared for him. The facts dictated the logic, and Shinsou knew that a carefully executed plan would not only help him survive the challenge, but also stand as a message to Orlouge (and whatever motivations had brought them together) that, at all times, the Telgradian would need to be taken seriously.

A deliberate and thought-through approach was needed here.

With Enpera’s power already augmenting his reactions, Shinsou deftly drew his sword across the folds of his cloak to bring it squarely across his body. In a blink of an eye, the Telgradian used his Shadowstep. The ability not only allowed him to close the distance between them, but in fact allowed him to slip past and behind the young mage at eight times his normal speed with nothing more than a high pitched boom. In his right hand, Enpera thirsted for first blood, drawn from across his chest in a sharp horizontal crescent.

[Rehtul Orlouge]

Rehtul let the man talk about why he was confused about the reason a former Ixian Knight would contact him while he concentrated his magic around his body. A cold chill radiated off him, robbing anything nearby of warmth. Beneath him, had his opponent looked closely enough, the grass began to develop a fine layer of frost. The air cracked quietly.

Suddenly, Osiris had apparently disappeared. The Orlouge didn't miss a beat, however, and jumped forward with all the force he could muster to avoid what was surely to be a fight ending attack right from the get go. His uncle, Sei Orlouge, had attempted a similar move during Rehtul's combat training while he was in the Knights. He landed on one hand and used the point of leverage to point himself toward the whistling sound of blade cutting through air behind him.

Every sense in his body was screaming at him that this man was far more dangerous than Felicity. Where she had a powerful body with a dangerous augmentation that allowed her to fight with the ferocity of a feral mountain troll, this man was something different altogether. A cold, calculated and measured mind was in control of those powers, one who had seen countless battles to the point that battle was no different than brushing his teeth in the morning.

Rehtul concentrated on the ground in front of his opponent. The frost that had gathered on the grass beneath where Rehtul once stood exploded outward and upward, three spikes all seeking the blood of the man who stood where the mage had only a few fractions of a second before.

This is what that monk meant, huh...

[Shinsou Vaan Osiris]

He had been humbugged, and now he was on the back foot.

Frozen dew glistened on the now vacant grass patch where Rehtul had stood not a second before. As Enpera’s edge carved through nothing but air, finishing its deadly arc at Shinsou’s hip, the wily Cryomancer sprung his trap.

A biting wind stirred; the freezing chill gripping the Telgradian’s senses. A sudden blue light emerged in the trodden grass below that was as bright as the sky, casting its blinding glare upon him. Shinsou tried to react in vain, his heart skipping a beat as three jagged spikes of ice suddenly roared out of the ground and careered into his left arm. The resulting pain made him scream, the sheer force of the magic ripping through his sleeve and horribly puncturing the muscles on his forearm.

Shit! The Telgradian seethed through clenched teeth as he shattered the icy stalagmites free with a swing from Enpera, Stupid mistake, Shin. He’s got you pegged. Watch his magic. Buy some time.

The clearing in front of him was already starting to feel the effects of Rehtul’s magic. Thin veins of freezing ice seemed to want to choke the landscape. Beneath his feet, snakelike tendrils of that same ice suddenly started to coil around his feet. Wrenching shards of the icicles from his injured arm and discarding them, Shinsou’s senses were playing merry hell. Though Rehtul was calm, the feeling he got from the young man was now more akin to an oppressive Salvarian blizzard. None of his senses interfered with the angry white cacophony he could feel inside.

There was only one way to deal with this.

A nebula cloud of black, electrified particles rose from the shrivelled ground beneath Shinsou’s feet as he raised his hand right, blood spattering the blue frost as his left arm ran in red rivulets.

“You’re clever,” Shinsou stated as a murky cloak of dark matter began to manifest into reality, “Which means you’re dangerous.”

Clearing his mind, Shinsou wove zephyrs of marbled black into a wall of air behind him; a swirling cocoon of the arcane. As a maelstrom of momentary silence and then thunderous cacophony resonated through his ears, Shinsou’s mind settled into the calm of an empty room, the tranquillity of a full moon. Words of power slipped past his lips, contained in a single breath.

Enpera Kurohitsugi.

At the touch of his thoughts, thirty lances of pure dark matter, woven from the void behind him, were carried to fore of their portals. The air itself momentarily shimmered as the dark wall of purple and black magic chewed through the foliage and disturbed the calm waters of the nearby river.

With a single wave of his hand, fifteen lances of the thirty burst forth from the portal in an aggressive flurry of electrical hissing, and tore straight towards the Cryomancer.

[Rehtul Orlouge]

Clever? No, but when a swordsman disappears in front you, an exposed back is often the most obvious target, Rehtul thought as he stood up and brushed himself off. It was almost laughable that the man would think of the relatively young mage as dangerous as a result, however. Rehtul slapped both hands together in a crisscrossing motion to knock some of the dust off.

The air cackled and the clearing seemed to darken as though his opponent were casting a shadow far wider than the sun should ordinarily allow. Rehtul braced himself, putting his left foot a few inches behind his right and widening his stance. The magic pouring off his opponent was staggering. The Orlouge hadn't fought a true mage in quite a awhile, not since his battle with the water bearer a few months prior, and this magic seemed altogether different.

What could only described as portals of electrified shadow hung in the air before the trees. They were solid, yet translucent. He could make out the tree line behind Shinsou if he looked hard enough. The part worrying him the most, however, were the weapons of solid shadow nestled in these portals.

Intriguing. I'd like to study those lances in depth when I have the opportunity, he thought as he braced himself. The question was, how were these lances to be used against him? His answer was short in coming, as about half their number homed in on him and fired simultaneously.

The cold aura around Rehtul brightened into a dazzling azure light as he brought his own magic to bear. around him on all sides appeared roughly a dozen crystalline spears. The light from the sun behind him refracted through the crystalline constructs, scattering rays of multicolored light in all directions.

Whipping both hands about like a conductor, he watched his spears catch and redirect the trajectory of each of the fifteen spears that had careened toward him, each hitting the ground behind and to either side with a satisfying thunk and twang. Or so he thought. Searing pain screamed through his side as his white coat began to dampen and darken to a deep crimson. He looked at the hole on his side in disbelief.

"I thought I'd got them all... damn," he snarled through clenched teeth. He threw a hand out to his side and grabbed a single spear from the dozen surrounding him. The rest took up positions around his body, leaving just enough room directly in front of him to allow direct combat if necessary.

Can he control his constructs mid flight like I can, though? the mage thought as he motioned for the weapons around him to form up behind him like a giant fan of pointy sticks.

Well, only one way to find out, he figured. With a point of his index finger, one of his spears flipped over to rest parallel over his shoulder and erupted at a speed far greater than an ordinary man was capable of throwing.

[Shinsou Vaan Osiris]

It all happened very quickly.

Shinsou had managed to wound his wily opponent, but at a cost. The chaotic exchange of the spears of shadow and ice had inadvertently given the young Orlouge a window of opportunity; the calm and capable mage deflecting all but one of Shinsou’s opening salvo into various parts of the earthy clearing. In the time that it took the loamy shrapnel thrown up by each re-directed spear to cascade through the air and scatter over the fresh grass, the Telgradian realised all too late he had left himself open to counterattack.

Thunnnkkk!!

He felt the full force of Rehtul’s ice before he saw it. The impact made him stagger back a couple of feet and gasp coldly, before his brain registered the severe burning sensation setting in from just below his right collarbone a second later. For a brief moment, the air ahead of him glimmered an azure before fading suddenly; a jolt of sunlight bouncing from the protruding end of an icy lance that was now slick with crimson. The smell of electricity gave way to the metallic scent of blood.

Ugh...

Shinsou had felt this before, in Tylmerande. A botched assassination attempt led to the Telgradian being shot and nearly killed by an opportunistic gunman sent by Arius Mephisto. Though the pain was excrutiating, the difference was that the shooting was quick, the wound clean, and the bullet had passed straight through his body.

This, though, felt like raw hell.

As he pulled the ice shard from his flesh, the nerves in his muscles and skin shredded, forcing Shinsou to switch Enpera into his left hand through blinding pain as his right arm went into spasm. The damaged muscles convulsed and then the whole arm went entirely limp, the pull-down of the dead weight causing Shinsou to hiss in distress. The fiery pain from the wound suddenly began to manifest into something tangible, stretching out in white veins to Enpera’s outstretched blade. As the living weapon consumed the Telgradian’s agony, the silver hues within the sword’s blade swirled into a murky black at the center. The whole process probably took about three seconds.

For another few seconds after that, nothing happened. The Telgradian looked up to finally notice, through hazy eyes, that his counterpart had summoned an array of similar objects that now levitated around him. Apparently, they did so as obediently as those of his Enpera Kurohitsugi.

Shit… Shinsou cursed to himself through his teeth. He was already on borrowed time. He needed to clear some of those projectiles, lest he become a pin cushion for Orlouge.

As Enpera finished its meal of pain, Shinsou called forth the Three Fold Law.

The man raised his left hand up, outstretching the point of Enpera’s tip towards Orlouge. At the tip, an orb of marbled black and dark green the size of a fist formed, churning and rotating on its axis. With an electrical snap, the orb shattered and stretched into a pencil thin black beam, ripping through the air at terrifying speed. A scent of heavy metals filled the air as the dark column tore over the foliage, singeing and churning the earth beneath the hot sun. The frighteningly powerful Shinsou tried to gulp for air as the recoil further opened his wound, spewing forth crimson in torrents. As the fluid touched the ground, it instantly stained the soil with harsh red, accompanied by an audible hiss.

[Rehtul Orlouge]

Direct hit!

Rehtul celebrated mentally but kept his eyes on the man in front of him. He hadn't fired one of his remaining lances to intercept the weapon the ice mage had launched at him. While he had caused damage to his opponent, he hadn't gleaned the information he sought about those portals or the weapons contained within. Either Shinsou had seen through his plan and had taken the hit on purpose to avoid giving up that information, or far more likely simply hadn't reacted in time due to Rehtul's own quick thinking on the matter.

"Well, this is irritating," he muttered to himself, his usual habit of self talk rearing its ugly head again as his level of stress rose. He kept telling himself it was unlikely he'd actually be able to eek out a win with his current level of control over his power, but something inside him was pushing him, forcing him to take this battle as seriously as though his life were really on the line. There was something about Vaan Osiris that he desperately wanted to overcome, no matter the cost.

Seconds after the spear hit home, Rehtul's opponent had removed it and... something was happening. Cursing his nearsightedness, the mage pushed his glasses up on his nose. It looked as though some kind of energy was seeping out of the wound.

Could he be like Felicity? No... this is different. Rehtul adjusted his glasses and almost too late realized exactly what was happening.

Oh, come on! He can turn pain into energy?!

The energy within the enemy's sword gathered into an orb at the tip. Less than a second later it fired a beam of energy at the young Orlouge. It was almost too quick to put up a defense of any kind, unless...

"DAMMIT!" Rehtul screamed as he threw both his hands up in front of his body. A translucent frosted blue dome of energy appeared around his body about a foot out from his skin. The energy smashed into the front of the dome before gliding over the top and around either side. A blink of an eye later the energy construct began to crack and destabilize, before it finally shattered and swirled around the body of the mage. With no input from him, the shards of energy struck forth with the ferocity and speed of a striking viper toward its prey.

"I didn't want to use that," he said as he extended his left arm toward Shinsou, aiming three of his remaining spears at the older man, "It reminds me of someone I hate."

Without another word, he fired the three spears above and to either side of where the man was standing at a speed that would catch be only a second or so behind the shards.

And she thinks she has to protect him?! What a joke.

[Shinsou Vaan Osiris]

As the cryomancer began to prepare another icy deluge for him, Shinsou fought back the lethargy from the drain of his wound. He corrected his balance with just about the minimum level of coherence before the three new threats filled his vision. The Telgradian could practically hear them whistle through the crisp clearing air, and somewhere in the back of that muddled mind, he knew he had but a moment to react.

But a moment was all he needed.

The spellsword felt a crawling sensation as the jet-like amorphic crystal of his Aura Break slithered over his body, anchoring him to the frostbitten soil. It grew up over his face just as the three icicle spears were about to hit, and suddenly his vision was rendered into a hundred blurred shades of turquoise and oil. A muffled noise like three gunshots in quick succession rang into his ears as the ice thumped into the adamantine-strength barrier and shattered into a million shards, before, a few seconds later, he felt the surface of the Aura Break dissolving. Sloughing off of his pale skin in chunks, the protective ward he had summoned peeled away to reveal an otherwise unharmed Shinsou Vaan Osiris, and a bemused Rehtul Orlouge.

Mages of any kind were usually annoying to fight, even for a self-styled mage like Shinsou. It had gotten to the point that doing so almost boiled down to a simple formula of who got in closest, won. But this one? Orlouge was stronger and smarter than his average charge, and Shinsou found himself smiling as he emerged from the dark and icy debris of their magecraft around him, one hand clutching at the bleeding wound the cryomancer had dealt him earlier. Crimson continued to pour from the ravaged gash in rivulets.

For the first time in a long time, Shinsou Vaan Osiris was excited. This was the meaning of the Citadel. He’d fought here before and he knew that within the confines of these mystical walls, the monks of Ai’Brone could resurrect the dead and heal the wounded. But here, life was not what was at stake, and the mystics of Radasanth could do nothing for pride. In the absence of the fear of survival, that was the risk he took.

"You’re fighting hard,” The Telgradian spoke directly to Rehtul in the moment’s respite, “But, as you can see, you’ve still got a lot of work to do to go toe-to-toe with the likes of me. Strength isn't just a numbers game, kid. It would be wise to learn that.”

Shin no Kotei: 1st Grade

It felt as if the air around Enpera’s blade had solidified and shattered like glass on command as its seal was broken. Arcane energies surged like adrenaline from the sword and a taste of electricity hung on the day’s cool air. A second later, Shinsou’s physical form quickly darkened into night, melting into a thick liquid that pooled into a shadowy slick before disappearing entirely into the soil of the clearing. His keen vision had earlier spotted that the sun overhead had cast long shadows in every direction, offering him many options for a surprise attack, but as the pale orange orb traced across the sky an even better prospect had arrived. Rehtul’s remaining ice armiger of eight spears floated about two foot away from his body, orbiting threateningly, but inbetween the icy weapons and Rehtul lay the shadow of the mage himself.

A perfect spot to re-appear.

With a snake-like slither, the Telgradian’s shadow forged a trail across the floor and touched Rehtul’s own, allowing Shinsou to physically manifest between the cryomancer and his icy arsenal instantly. The cool wind flushed his newly manifested skin and, as the breeze wind beat about Shinsou’s matted chestnut hair, the Telgradian pulled his sword in a fierce downwards arc.

Dust erupted into the air as the force of the swing conspired to carve the plucky Rehtul Orlouge in half.

[Rehtul Orlouge]

Something felt off. Rehtul's eyes nearly bulged out of his head as he saw his attacks bounce off the force that had surrounded Shinsou's body.

The hell was that? Some kind of exoskin spell? No matter, I'll just- as the thought continued to go through the mage's head, his opponent turned into what appeared to be liquid shadow before he seemed to melt into the floor of the clearing, blending with the shadows between the two men.

Rehtul attempted to eyeball where the shadow Osiris had become was going, but it was pointless. He couldn't tell under all the blades of grass scattered throughout the clearing. He only had his experience and reflexed to rely on, and suddenly he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

No, not again! he thought as he jumped forward, but only a little too late. He felt the point of the sword dig into his lower back. A burning pain erupted up his spine as he caught himself on the ground with his hands. Without even looking behind himself, he brought a hand up, open palmed, toward the man who had just attacked him from behind a second time in this battle. He clenched his hand into a fist and the remaining seven spears floating where he had once stood all shattered and homed in on Shinsou, looking to impale him with as many small shards of ice as possible.

The ice mage pushed himself up on his hands and threw his legs around under himself... or at least tried to. Breaths started to come more quickly as the young mage attempted again to force his legs to move by force of will alone, but not only were they refusing his orders, he could not even feel them anymore.

I'm paralyzed?! No... no, no, no. Just... no, calm down, I can handle this, he thought, as if to force himself not to panic. Hoping Shinsou was still dealing with the barrage of ice that had come at him from every side, Rehtul pulled on his magic once more. The spear in his right hand slinked down into his jacket and down his legs, wrapping itself around his waist. Slowly, then with increasing speed, more ice gathered under the mage's billowing slacks, covering even his feet in a solid coating of ice.

With that now out of the way, Rehtul stood up. He wobbled a bit on a type of motor control he had never had to use before, and locked his legs in place using his pseudo armor. Without so much as a sound, he willed his new armor to carry itself, and by extension, him, into the air to buy himself some time.

A sense of vertigo threatened to cause him to fall backwards, but he simply extended the ice on his back up his spine to hold himself in place.

"Damn..." he whispered as he extended an arm. More ice appeared from the surrounding air and fitted itself around both of his arms and his chest. The hood of his jacket was forced up over his head as a sparkling but remarkably clear helmet of ice materialized inches from his face.

Of all the crap I've been crazy enough to pull, this has got to take the cake. Encasing myself in ice just so I can keep fighting?

In all honestly, he considered, he'd have long given up had this battle been real, and not merely for sport and sheer pride.