In the end, Kross broke Sul's legs twice, once because he was promised it and again because Sul was built like a twig and the first time had been deeply unsatisfying. There was no real agreement about what they would do about the following situation, which resulted in a short scuffle on the temple floor. Kross won by virtue of being heavier and also because it was painfully obvious Sul had never been in a physical fight in the entirety of his long, long life. The resulting circumstances were a little less than ideal but at least Kross could say it was not actually the worst night he had experienced. It was simply mediocre, excepting of the part where he broke some bones.

"That was pathetic," Kross told the magician when they were done, because they still hated each other and he had to. "Really, honestly pathetic. No wonder you're a monk." He kicked Sul half-heartedly in the side from where he lay on the ground.

The magician made a sound of agreement but otherwise did not move. It looked a little like he was cradling his wrist. Kross might have also snapped it at some point. It was hard to say with all of the activity that had been going on.

Kross kicked him again but Sul failed to do anything remotely interesting besides sigh in pain. He had been doing that a lot lately. "Now get out of my module."

"I physically cannot," Sul said, because, as Kross was discovering, he did in fact have a sense of humor. The problem was that most of it was at Kross's expense.

"You can fucking teleport," Kross growled, looking for his gauntlets. He distinctly remembered throwing them somewhere. "I have literally seen you do it. Now go and do that."

"It's a waste of magic." The shrug was obvious in Sul's voice. "Maybe later."

Kross threw a rock at him. Almost immediately, it exploded into dust. He stared for a moment. "And that was not?"

With a sigh, Sul pulled himself into a sitting position, grimacing a little as he moved his legs. "If you keep attacking me, I will stop telling you things," he chided. This time, when Kross tried to kick him, he slipped out of range, pain written on his face.

"You are a child," Kross accused. "The galaxy is doomed if you win the race."

"Aren't the Crogs the ones who are aiming for complete galactic conquest?" Sul remarked idly. "I could have sworn that was the case but I might be confusing you with some other warmongering species. You all tend to blur together after a while."

"I will personally raze Gumaria to the ground after Earth," Kross started, stopping when Sul held up a hand.

"Yes, yes, and you will enslave our women, burn our cities, desecrate our temples, sow the fields with salt, build pyramids of skulls, and feed our offspring to yours so that their blood might make yours stronger," Sul drawled, frowning as he moved his wrist around. "I have heard this before so please save your breath."

Kross threw another rock at him. It, too, exploded.