"Your configuration has ameliorated since our preceding battle, Landforger!" the Pyreburner praised the Landforger as they averted each-others' blows, "I commend you!"
Titan beamed with pride at the well-deserved flattery, delivering another wave of Gaia's wrath from a new angle. The Archean was a god of few words; he spoke more through his exuberant movements as Ifrit mused about their respected abilities. The Infernian did a backflip off one of the incoming boulders hoisted his way, an uninhibited belly laugh releasing itself.
It wasn't until Ifrit found himself swerving and side-flipping off a particular sword that the atmosphere transformed. Another blade passed him swiftly, avoiding one of his horns by chance. He looked up to have his face twist into one of disfavor – for it was the Draconian, Bahamut, who had thrown the swords at the two sparring deities.
The Pyreburner's dislike towards him was justified; for him and the Bladekeeper found it strenuous to agree on matters involving their methods of giving aid to the mortals. However, they were united by that exact common purpose. Many of their encounters consisted of the "agree to disagree" belief. It worked for the Infernian.
Bahamut's obscured eyes narrowed when witnessing the playful altercation going on, flying down to where they were. He did not engage in any of their, as he considered them, "boorish" activities. As the proclaimed head of the Astrals, he simply had little time for recreational events; another area he and Ifrit clashed. To him, the Pyreburner gave far too much hope for the mortals, believing they were not as strong-willed as he thought them to be.
Especially with knowing what would come of the Pyreburner himself.
Hovering above Titan and Ifrit, the Draconian withdrew the swords he had thrown at them with a chasmic sigh.
"Pyreburner," he began, "Time is finite for the mortals. There is no period for the Astrals to indulge in disport."
A detectable eyeroll flashed across the Infernian's prepossessing lineaments. "There is no defacement in sparring occasionally, Draconian," he grumbled while sheathing his sword. "I had the desire to indulge before I am to grant my gift to the mortals." The flames around him disappeared, as if sensing Bahamut as well.
The Archean caught onto the lurking tension between the two gods, causing him to dissolve immediately to avoid hearing this discomforting exchange. Ifrit smiled apologetically as he left before he turned back to the God of War with a scowl.
Said god only fired back with an even voice, "Your aspiration carries a magnanimous resolve. Howbeit, heed the consequence of granting your flame to the mortals, for their kind are predisposed to conceit. May they revere you as a god until their insolence ascends."
"You bear an acutely cynical ideology, Bladekeeper," A low scoff left Ifrit's lips, his robes clinging to his powerfully built frame as the wind created from the Draconian's wings blanketed the area around them. "Their reverence will always conquer over their hubris. I am a God."
The Draconian refrained from exhaling a scoff. It was no wonder the Infernian's fate would be one of cataclysm; his own hubris had already escalated to heights unfathomable. As little as he worried for the Astrals, the Pyreburner was the one he truly was scrutinizing.
Much to his dismay, Bahamut deduced he had no alternative.
"So it is ordained – the revelation of Bahamut."