Oscar's will blazed forth as he charged, his sword crossed before him; a sign of his undying faith towards the Abbey. The wind was furiously displaced, and the storm of raindrops retreated as his force catapulted him towards the devilish criminals. Like a bullet train of steel and mettle, he crossed the open dock in a second, his figure gracing the prisoner's space as he appeared in burst of moist air. Immediately, his blessed weapon graced nature's force, splitting the growing wind and water as he cut right through where the daemon woman had been before his eyes. Oscar didn't spare a glance at the surprised malak at his side, only meeting the withering gaze of Death's Mistress who had leapt far above him; gleaming wrist blade shooting out to spill more fresh blood.
Velvet landed in a mass of darkness, a sharp glare piercing the exorcist as he pranced forward, sword positioned in silent prayer, before the opponents met in a gnashing of thirsty steel. Sparks flew as they exchanged blows; the daemon leaping around in wild spins and pounces - her metal talon striking incessantly against the praetor's iron guard. Oscar held his weapon protectively, unyielding of any ground as he struck the woman's violent edge away from any blind spots in practiced precision. Velvet's anguished cries rang out in the deafening storm, rattling the opposing exorcist group as they held back the mysterious half-malak.
Boring through beads of glistening rain and ignoring the sharp stench of the sea, she coldly calculated her next move, the daemon steeling her form and flexing her foot; as a hidden blade shot out from the boot's underside. Oscar barely flinched at the unorthodox wild card, as the daemon sprang back into vicious action. A feral wheel of devastation occurred, as the ravenette's already powerful kicks lashed out with now lethal capability. Still, Oscar ceased to unveil any alternate moves, as the increased offensive efficiency began to carve into his guard, pushing him across the soaked docks.
It was like a hungry predator pounding against a beaten wall, dishing out immense power against its battered surface, but it did not fall.
Loudly growling in irritation, Velvet struck out with a rage-fueled kick, the metal screeching across the praetor's unblemished blade, as he recoiled backwards. However, he did not falter, and carried his momentum into a sudden strike; aiming his sword's tip precisely to gouge the daemon before him. Sighting the soaring blade, Velvet fell back and caught herself with her left hand, digging her fingers into the chilling stone - her boot blade rising up to grind against the stabbing blade - throwing it off course.
Squelch!
The horrendous appendage exploded out from its cloth chains, wreathed in vile crimson as it almost snarled at the foe. Switching from one hand to the other, the daemoness roared as she aimed to thrash the boy with a sickening smack. Until, he vanished. His speed was unbelievable, as Oscar had managed to leap back in the blink of an eye. All she managed to catch was a handful of liquid pellets, and the crackling of electricity exposed her mistake. Oscar stood behind her stunned form, orbs manifested with blinding arcs of lightning hovering above his faithful weapon. Eyes of hardened gold widened in shock, before she whipped around to protect her form with the vermillion limb. Blunt shocks of pain coursed around her system as the orbs struck out suddenly, one jumping right into her claw, one more knocking it away, and the final sending her barrelling into the icy depths off the dock.
Crash!
The cold grip of the ocean latched onto her upon breaking the harsh surface, its unwelcoming fingers coiling around her fallen figure. Velvet wasn't hurt, or tired. The electricity had left as quickly as it came. She simply just didn't want to get up. What welcomed her if she rose from the wailing waves? The hateful glares of noble exorcists, existing to protect this world from daemons. Daemons like her. As she sank even further into the freezing waters, she almost enjoyed the unfeeling grasp. She wondered if this was what death felt like.
She wondered if this was what Laphicet felt when Arthur's blade pierced his gut.
"Ever the slave to emotion."
Velvet's eyelids snapped open, stinging under the salty sea, but she didn't care. If she couldn't even get up from this, then her vengeance is a fool's errand. The circulating hue of velvet that emanated from her newly acquired gift caught her attention, as it jolted and rumbled in the darkening ocean. It wanted blood, his blood, and it was a part of her now. She was a daemon, existing only to spill ivory of any and all who stood in her way. The daemon thought back to who stood awaiting her return onto the worn and broken docks.
'That praetor... he's in my way.'
Seething in unbridled wrath that burned away the freezing hug of the depths, she whipped her daemonic arm and rocketed out of reach from the silent tendrils that seeked to pull her deeper. Blood for blood; she didn't care that the white moonlight would illuminate her darkest deeds tonight.
Back on the weathered outcrop of the docks, Oscar had only waited moments before the monster sprang out in a geyser from the cerulean water. The great claw having been dispersed back into her bandaged arm. The matted and slicked ravenette glowered from behind the veil of wet strands. The exorcist could only peep the fiery golden gaze that boiled away any outward cold, and locked away her icy heart. "You truly are a beast," he mocked her burning vigour, as she soundlessly threatened his lasting presence.
Seres' mind rapidly going over what had just occurred, a growing pit of dread in her stomach alerted her to something about the daemon. 'She seems... different.' However, before the battle could continue, a rattling groan of pain and the spilling of liquid somehow overcame the bellowing of the raging storm. The trio were suddenly reminded of another's existence on this battlefield. They turned to catch the origin of the noise, and caught the dreadful slumping of a lifeless body.
Sarid Barloc, finally armed with his kunai, stood in the howling rain with crimson splattered over his form, ivory dripping from his ancient edge.
Minutes before Velvet's reappearance from the shrill waters, the half-malak had a hefty problem to deal with. Four to be exact. As he stared down the poised exorcists that now surrounded him, he couldn't hold back the regret that honed over his gaze. They each brandished clean steel that had once been slick with daemon blood, and would soon add his to the mix; a lonely survivor of a bygone time. Nevertheless - as he turned his sight to the bright light of the naive moon - there was hope. A chance to never see that despairing vermillion cast over the world ever again. He would be damned to let anyone stand in his way of a better age.
Tightening the dark headband around his head as his blanched strands sprawled around it, he looked back towards the opposition. Defenders of Humanity, and purger of their sins. With a grimace, he easily weaved his head past a broad swing of a longsword as the exorcist stumbled past; finding himself now in the dead centre of their offensive. Sarid entered his open-hand stance his father had always taught him, and watched as they charged as one.
The rain didn't get in his way, and he slipped past their guards with lightning precision, slipping and sliding around every lethal attack; only to have his chance be met by more hateful blades. His sharp jabs and kicks would falter, again and again, as he collided for only milliseconds with his target before evading a dangerous move for his life. Knuckles bruised and bled, while he instinctually swung for armoured heads - proving ineffective. Flips, jumps, throws, nothing downed their unrelenting assault - while they proved more effective as the edges began clipping his clothing - and tips pierced breathing room. Dancing around in a spiral of water and diving under another professional swing, he saw it. While his breath was paced and continous, the exorcists heaved and gasped upon every maneuver. Sarid needed only last longer.
Crackle!
Until the sound of jolting electricity caught his attention, and out the corner of his eye, he witnessed a cape of darkness soar into the pulling depths. 'Velvet!?' But, his moment of divided attention cost him, as a winding spear whirled into his stomach. Thoughts dying in his mind immediately upon contact, he was sent spiralling into a veil of pouring water; spluttering for oxygen. Worries for another knocked out of his attention, Sarid caught himself on the ground and faced up - only to see the glint of falling steel in the moonlight striking towards him.
"Why did you do this!?" he viscerally recalled demanding of the monster who bore down on him.
"Because you Exorcists deserved it!" She seethed with an undying hatred of past years. The dark cloak around her appeared to shuffle with anguish, bubbling ominously as her pulsing claw drew nearer to his face.
"Deserved?!" he had incredulously asked. "Good people, innocents, one's who had no part in your 'war', did they deserve it?!" he wildly questioned, the anger boiling from within being the only barrier from having his throat torn out. The rage of sorrow, and the rage of anguish; two feelings born from everlasting isolation. Two types of fire blazed that night.
"You have no right!"
Lukewarm liquid splattered over him, coating his unstained hand and causing a metallic stench to overcome the presence of the sea. His blade easily carved its way across the exorcist's chest, the pristeen steel splitting flesh like butter, as the unfortunate soul trembled and choked. Sarid could feel eyes peering right at him, and he looked right back through that lifeless helmet. Like a flash of lightning, he had drawn his three-pronged kunai, and taken the life of someone who threatened his. Despite that fact, a burdening weight dropped right onto his shoulders, as he watched the light fade from their eyes. He had just killed someone. Not a daemon, not an animal, a person. They would no longer live what could have been, their family would wait patiently for someone who would never return home, a child may grow up without a parent, a bloodline may have just died by his hand.
That exorcist had just fallen into a deep void, and he - someone who was tasked with saving the world - had pushed them in. And still, as the body crumpled away from his vision; two golden eyes stared into his expectedly from afar. The hint of contempt in their gaze no longer present. If he wanted to continue in this world, more blood would have to be shed by his shaken hands. And through it all, deep inside he could tell, he would have to follow a paved trail of devastation wrought by the Goddess of Death, lest he becomes part of it.
This was a trial he would suffer through. For the world.
Spinning on his heel, Sarid slashed a deadly deep wound through a charging exorcist, the gaping opening leaving the warrior disemboweled. In a flash, his second kunai appeared in his opposite hand; before it was sent flying into the throat of a stunned orderly - the pained groaning of a dying man ricocheted through his ears as he dashed towards him. Leaping onto his destabilising shoulders after ripping out his valuable weapon - he sprang off and over the final foe in an impressive flip. Her death was painless, as the thrusting knife coursed with sizzling heat; and shot right through the centre of her chest.
With a slight tremble, the man steeled his fist and ripped it out of the fatal wound. The yawning hole through the exorcist's body leaked with bloody crimson, leaving a direct line of sight to Oscar's shocked eyes. His pupils shook at what appeared in his vision, stunned at the drastic turn in violence. Gradually, his irises tensed, and his teeth threatened to grind into dust - longsword shaking ferociously in his grip. He slowly stalked forward, bringing his weapon to bear, while Sarid let the body fall into his grip; laying it gently on the ground while he stared at the praetor. "...I had thought you as a misunderstood prisoner, who was only fighting desperately for their freedom. I understood that completely; when Titania is... torture for the undeserving," Oscar coldly stated to the half-malak, louring at his stained form that gently washed away in the rain. "But, I realise I was mistaken. I was a fool for giving you a chance, and now the deaths of four noble exorcists fall on me."
Off to the side of the growing tension, the daemoness stared attentively, evaluating every reaction that Sarid let slip. But, she couldn't shove down the slightest hint of respect dawning on her tongue; so she let it go. "Hmm, almost a natural, I guess. It's about time," she simply 'complimented' with an impatient tapping. Seres didn't hide the sad look that she bounced between the unfeeling beast, and the distressed man.
At her words, the final exorcist cast a furious glance at the grander foe that should have his direct attention. Despite the reasonable decision, he couldn't shake the growing emotion that forced his hand. Facing Sarid completely with unwavering conviction, he spoke with a chilling fury; "I promise you this, daemon. The innocent blood you have spilled today will lead you to my sword, and it will not be painless. Ready yourself!"
Sarid winced at the praetor's hateful words, but was still prepared to do what he must. Flipping his slicked kunai into a backwards grip, he furrowed his brows in concentration and pushed away invading worries and thoughts. 'If he knocked away Velvet, then he's no joke. I need to see what he can do first...' Similar to the initial charge, Oscar blitzed across the battered dock in a wave of water, his faithful blade no longer honed before him, but dragging across the air in preparation for a cleaving slice. Sarid raced forward at the same time, pushing his body to the fullest, as echoes of thunder flashed across the whirling skies. Wind blew from its standpoint as the fighters sprinted towards one another - one fuelled by promise and justice - the other by reluctance but resilience. Sarid poised his knife outward and...
Clang!
...It was immediately batted away in a second, inches from the praetor's chest. Following through, Oscar slashed back to carve the half-malak in two, only for it to be stopped by the same kunai from moments before. The immense force generated a shudder over the grip of Sarid's weapon, and just before the guard relented; lept over the unstoppable wave in a desperate maneuver. After that brief altercation, both opponents found themselves on opposite sides of the docks. Smacking the shake in his hand to stop it, Sarid passed his weapon to his left, and scored a glance at the praetor. Oscar had already risen from his place, but seemed to be patiently waiting for the man's first move. Peeking up from his place, he witnessed his fellow escapees watching expectedly; one with baited breath and the other with a snide hand on her hip. You can guess which was which.
Sarid shook his head, droplets falling from their ruffled nest of white, and began to evaluate what he knew about his opponent. 'He's extremely fast, but I can match him. However, his stamina is ridiculous, he hasn't drawn a heavy breath throughout this whole fight. That means I can't win in attrition.' Looking down at the weapon that lay in his reddened palm, he scanned the mysterious kanji that relayed over its handle. Marks that meant more than just words. 'But, my reaction time is still better, even if his strength and skill is vastly superior, it means nothing if he can't catch me. I have one wild card...' As he went over his plan, his right hand strangely formed an open palm, and waved back as if pushed by an invisible force. 'If I catch him with that, then it's over.'
Jumping up from his spot, he turned with confidence and a plan of action in mind. The curtain of haze that the barraging stork created only created a mild fog over the approaching cloak of pristeen white and glistening steel. 'This battle will be decided...' Sarid began dashing towards Oscar once again, the stench of iron and ocean permeating his acute senses. '...by who's faster!' As they neared eachother, the praetor's sword laid bare to skewer the charging foe.
Shing!
Sarid's lone kunai cut through the air as it shot towards the exorcist. Oscar's emerald pupils widened upon noticing the sheen of flying metal, and he barely careened his head to the side; the prong drawing a thin gash across his fair skin. Now unarmed, the half-malak ran right towards his death.
Scheeeoooo!
An ominous and abnormal sound pierced the screaming wind, as an orb of swirling colourless energy materialised in his open right hand, the size of a basketball. Oscar's eyes shot open even more upon the appearance of such a foreboding arte, the gradual humming causing his hairs to stand upon under his thick sleeves. The spiralling mana pulled in the falling pellets and the fierce winds, spewing a great pressure onto his body. However, the tip of his sword was already grazing the stomach of the white-haired man, his reach proving his victory. 'It's over... wait! That kunai! It's just like--' Before his thoughts could even form themselves, Sarid vanished right before his eyes, as did the contorting power he held.
The half-malak couldn't help but smirk slightly as he appeared just above the still in motion praetor, catching his mystical kunai in midair. The orb in his hand roared, before it was plunged right into the back of the exorcist, forcing him right down into the crumbling stone. 'Teleportation... As useful as ever,' he inwardly recalled, as the condensed arte released its power; sending debris flying and impacting a deep crater into the weathered dockyard.
As the bellowing smog pooled across the zone, a figure embroided in white leapt out of its smothering vicinity. Oscar landed in retreat, a pained look evident across his scowl and sharp breathing slipping out of his lungs. His noble cape was absolutely destroyed, and a severe aching clawed at his back. Distressed sweat trailed down his face as he glared at the encroaching prisoners.
Velvet was quite surprised to say the least. Of all who were present, she did not anticipate the most merciful of them to deal such a strong blow against the fearsome praetor that opposed them. Swatting her bristling strands from her face, her metal boots clinked against the rocky surface as she approached the rapidly dissipating smoke. She easily sensed the only stench of blood that waited in the cloud, and already stood at his side before they were even in view. The daemon couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at the slight tensing of his body everytime she came near. "I didn't think you had it in you," she bluntly said. "Get used to this feeling. You're considered one of us now," she peculiarly advised.
The man didn't respond, or move. He simply let the rain wash over him, a feeble attempt at cleansing the innocent ivory he felt.
Eyeing the wounded praetor with distaste, she reflexively coiled her fingers; a new fire blazing deep within. An unnatural yearning for indulgence pulled at her mind - as she enjoyed the drained look Oscar displayed even through the blinding veil of water. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed an increased discomforting shuffle from the strange man. Feeling an almost hesitant gaze fall on her, she locked eyes with the praetor, and let out a daggered look of a predator. "He's mine." Her decision was final, and none could dispute an order from the devil.
Springing from her position like a hungry lion of darkness - dock stone cracking from the force - she bounded towards him through the stinging of cutting winds and stabbing rain. This time, Oscar did not retaliate, and chose to hold his ground. Even through his injured state, he did not falter against those eyes of dispassion. However, a deep rumble came from behind him; and a stone wall somehow rose from the flat dock floor. Immediately, Oscar caught Sarid with his hand placed on the wet ground from afar. With a severe grimace and no ground to fall back on, the praetor soon found himself in a dance with the daemoness. Unfortunately, this was a dance he could not win.
Raising his valiant blade once again, it was suddenly knocked off-course by a suprising kick from the still airborne Velvet, who carried it through and struck true with another that sent him barrelling right into the sprouted wall of stone. Letting out a yell as his injured back smashed against it, the blonde exorcist had no time to rest before the screech of unsheathed metal gave him his warning. The ravenette's wristblade plunged right through the harsh rock with a crack! 'What's going on...? Where is this strength coming from!?' he inwardly demanded with bafflement. Oscar heard his heartbeat pound through his ears, as he wrenched his head up to catch sight of his attacker. Two smoldering orbs of sizzling fire bore right through him.
Shink!
The praetor cried out in pain as the blade slipped into his unarmoured shoulder, spilling crimson across his prideful uniform. Velvet had carved her blade right through the stone to sink into the exorcist with pure strength. Before he could even pull oxygen back into his body, a bandaged hand coiled around his throat; gripping it with such intense pressure that his body began seizing up. The monster slammed him against the arte wall, lifting him up and cracking it, as she hissed a sentence into his strained ears. "You will be an example for all in my way." With her chilling order, she reeled the boy back, and threw him right through the hardened stone. Shattered debris scattered across the dock as Oscar crashed against the rough ground, his air having been completely wiped from his lungs. Before he could rise, a savage line rumbled through the heavy sky like the brewery of a volatile storm.
"DEVOUR!"