Exams...
It almost got meeee...
I still dont own the dark souls series or the highschool dxd series.
As he was now, Tristan felt as if he could take on Rias' entourage. He praised the First lord for his strength.
Keeping his face low, and his brows lower, the form of hate was assumed. All directed towards one person.
He was found, fighting an unnamed devil alongside his king, with a red gauntlet that seemed to have escaped attention in previous encounters.
But it matched what he had been told. A hand that resembled the claw of a dragon, a green gem placed in the center of the large thing.
Then this is what they had told him of. A red, scaled hand enhancement.
Such a treasure was formed during the Advent of fire, when the Archdragons battled Gwyn's forces. It was the work that came into existence because of the union of the lord's forces.
The one who forged the frames was a giant, the same giant that created the metals for the Silver Knights and their armaments.
It was Seath, the messenger of the Archdragons, who filled every inch of the frames with his own twisted magic, offering those who had the soul of fire a way to fight without the lengthy training associated with Knight-hood.
The Witches of Chaos attempted to pour their own magical essence into the weapons, but were better off weaving their Firestorms. At that point, they had no students to call their own.
Wretched Nito, his interactions with the things would cause their degradation, meaning there was nothing he could do to assist in the project.
They were created from the forge of Lords.
These weapons were given special names, each their own. But at some point after the war, they were all stolen. They were of the highest treasure, known to bring victory in that time.
And this devil dares to wield the strength that came of the Gods.
But every one of them had some sort of connection to dragons.
What better way to better himself at dragon-slaying than to challenge a vestige of one? The dragons that exist within them are no longer those of 'Stone Scales', they've been corrupted. A chance like this should not be squandered.
The dragons who did not fight in the Great War were the ones who had run away from their archtrees.
With new found goals, his hands tightened as the distance between the two closed.
A man had shouted, and it made him cringe all over. Tristan just wanted it to stop, it made the flesh around his wrists crawl, and his legs tingle with something that should not exist.
"Boosto!"
He announced the thing again, overlapping previous words with the same. Soon, a bright light formed around Issei's arm, and Tristan had to raise his shield-arm from it's intensity. But peeking over the rim of the blocking tool, he advanced a little slower.
Whatever these devils could plan, what would it mean for him? This would equate to a sorcerer gathering power into one mass, spelling trouble for him.
He advanced with squinted eyes, just a little away from Issei, now. With strokes of luck normally reserved for the humans within Lordran, Rias only glanced at him before returning to the huge event in front of her, the amassing light that looked as if it was aimed towards the sky.
His teeth grit against one another, but before he was able to slice Issei with his sword or lightning spear, the devil exploded.
A great force, like the devil had just performed the miracle: 'Wrath of the gods'. It hit Tristan harder than any other foe, and blew him back.
It was an explosion that spawned a plume of dust.
What, he thinks to step out of line? He thinks he's so great just because he was born with it; power stolen from the Lords themselves.
Dust began to settle.
What remained was the two devils, and the squire himself. But change took form on one of them.
From the explosion of light, Issei had been replaced by a red, overtly flashy armor.
Tristan had read up on this before. Yes.
During the conflict between the Everlasting Dragons, if one of the specialist soldiers who were able to wield the tool was deemed worthy, then they could assume the form of a dragon that imitated their Stone Scales.
That was a time when they were used by his race of Lords.
Something so great has fallen into the hands of this devil. Something so powerful was able to be manipulated by someone as foul as Issei.
This...
This was blasphemy against the gods. The theft of the Giant's creations were a tragedy in of itself, but for them to be used by their enemies...
Heresy of the highest form.
Heresy.
Blasphemy.
Such things against his kingdom brought a kind of darkness within his soul. This once, Tristan made an exception for himself. The only humans allowed to wear them were the ones who live with the Gods in Lordran.
A felony such as this would be deserving of a darkness such as his, the kind that flourishes for Hate Incarnate.
The space around the squire's right hand began to warp from a formless flame coming into power.
The untouchable flame that usually resided within man kindled the hand. Covering the sword hilt in the Abyssal fire that started to wash over the metal blade, a gust of weightless wind pushed the fire's escaping embers towards the two devils, seeking life to devour.
To manipulate your soul, and spread it among an object, is to make that object a sort of extention of yourself. It will carry your hatred, your love, and strength on it's form.
But be wary of this ability. You're my apprentice, don't forget.
Tristan didn't know where this came from, but an image of a woman painted itself into his head, she hung in the air, a motion of swift combat, one he'd never seen before, the form or the woman. A name threw itself at him, it could be her stance, or the name of the woman.
Blackflame.
...
He felt if he would imitate the name, the lady would be upset, and he didn't want a frown on a face like that. Even if to his knowledge, the person was a mental image, and didn't exist in the present plane.
In this rare form he assumes, he'd think of himself as Darkflame Tristan. The image must have come to him for a reason, but the thought was pushed away, and overtaken by his sense of duty.
This might have been the doing of his master Karla, a dark blessing she placed onto him for an unnamed goal.
Time for thoughts began to fade, as the time for rough-housing came into it's place.
The simple sight of the dragon armor was disgusting to him as Issei sped across the dirt of the school, the trees of the nearby forest stood as witnesses to the scuffle.
He had seen a Human don the armor of a Silver knight, even knew that there was one famed human who was able to use Havel's set without much trouble. But that was because they were deserving of the honor, they had risked their existence alongside the gods in a war where extinction was likely.
And this one just happened to be born with it.
The Darkflame sword was pulled back into his right side, where Tristan would wait patiently.
It was two-handed. The elements of Man and Sunlight sweeped over the other. But eventually, there came a hard stop in the two, now using a metallic medium.
He saw Issei outstrech the left dragon hand towards him, a strange light started to take form in the scaly palm, accented with yellow claws.
The world around him felt like it had slowed, but only for the slightest.
Starting with a heavy stomp on the dirt, his body lowered altogether. The makings of a proper knight.
He put his left shoulder in front, and lurched himself against his feet. The hallmark of a warrior.
Tristan let the blade traverse, a horizontal slash accompanied by an almost-blinding yellow. Followed closely by the quality of human kind; an Abyssal darkness that festered on the blade, growing larger when contact was closest between the two. Of course, it seeks life, more and more of it.
A leaden strike on the armored chest was a solid blow. But Issei still held his momentum, and only began to gather more of that strange energy in his hand. Even if there was sparks of lightning on his scales.
One thing that he would miss as a Silver Knight, however.
It was the agile movements that he had grown alongside his elder sibling.
Tristan pulled backwards from the low stance. The weighed slice he had started remains with force, as he planned.
Going along with his sword, he leaped backwards a little, and turned along with the long sword, along with his head.
Other than that moment, the squire had never taken his eyes off the armored devil, eyeing him with serious disdain. This movement began to reach its end, where the lightning spear was required as a singular entity.
His turn with the blade ended, and he thrusted the combat-arms straight forwards, forcing his right arm further when he met resistance.
And, ending this string of movement, a spear of lightning began to form at his off-hand.
At the speed the devil was going, there was no way to avoid this outcome.
No way to avoid this glorious event, of justice in action.
The final conclusion to his swordplay, was a thundering stake of lightning that was speared into the devil-dragon's left shoulder.
Issei had already impaled himself on the Darkflame sword, and now there was a searing in the place where his arm met his neck. The race of the Lords, and their human allies, specialised in eliminating the likes of devil kind.
Meanwhile, his king stared on like she was in the middle of a murder. The green of her iris shrunk into dots, and she instinctively carried her hands towards her mouth, where they covered an expression shock. What she envisioned within the scene was something that only existed in fiction.
Through the middle of her Pawn, erupted a column of black, violently spouting its dark embers over the dragon-scale suit.
Above the darkness of man, a Sunlight spear demanded attention. Lightning emit from the point of contact, and discharged its power into the False Wielder.
This was part of the reason why the Great Conflict between the three supernatural races had ended so quickly once Gwyn's faction had entered.
Not only was the strength of Sunlight employed, but there were hunts assembled against Heaven's enemies.
Lordran's army was vast and varied, the knights of Anor Londo struck down their first devils. Seath's personal students, handled with only the finest of practices, launched their crystal sorcery at any fallen angel. And Clerics, the Silver knights would launch into heightened ferocity if their treasured Clerics were ever targeted.
They kept their regiment alive, they were worth their weight in gold, even if they weren't helpless alone.
They had versed themselves in the miracles of Lady Gwenevere, and shared the blessings of the cherished princess to a great many warriors.
Her sibling covenants, then?
The most established of the Warriors of Sunlight followed their leader; the First Born into battle. Atop the archdragons that had accepted their race as gods. Together, they would fight in the front lines for days at a time, leaving a scars in the sky above the battleground where a great thunderstorm was channeled.
The Devils believed themselves to be safe behind their grand walls.
Darksun Gwndolin watched closely as his subjects assassinated the generals of fallen angels and devils alike. He would observe any attempt to trespass Lordran, and dispatch his most worthy of Blades to bring the intruder to a swift and unnoticed death.
It is said that the most accomplished under the Darkmoon were gifted a miracle that originally belonged to his brother's order.
When the end of the war was near, the giants laid siege the walls of the devil capital, forming an entrance for Gwyn's army to marshal onwards, while the angels flew overhead. They carried their colossal bodies with refined skill, wielding immense blades and crushing any combatant they came across.
Humans, Gods, and Giants of Lordran fought alongside the Angels of Heaven, and pulled the conflict to a grinding halt.
The soldiers who served the Royal Family did so with pride, content with servicing their Leaders til the end of their lifetime. Others, who were called to duty, received a reward worthy of a Lord.
Lorebomb for the interested.
Like i said, ultra exams got me like 'oh'.
Sorry, im back though.
:')