Siege on the City of Heroes - South, Part 2(EVENT)

[Richter Abend]

Richter would have shouted in protest when Burt tried to steal Damonzahn, to tell him to stop. No, don’t touch that! It’s dangerous! But try as he might, the convulsions that were wracking his body impeded any attempts he made at speaking that didn’t consist entirely of grunting and moaning. He was so weak, so helpless. So incredibly helpless! Dammit, why now? Why was it always that when he was most needed, Richter could never do anything to help!? Captured by Alranus in Ilia, blocked by Kenshin in the arena, and now this! It was beyond frustrating! If he could just get on his feet, he could stop that idiot! He could stop this from going horribly wrong!

But as he lay paralyzed, the commander could only grit his teeth in pain the brave man that had struck the mighty Hargus from his beast decided to unknowingly damn himself. Richter could feel the weight on his back lighten as he was relieved from the burden of his dark greatsword, and looked on in horror as the orange-haired would-be hero sunk Damonzahn’s unholy blade into a demon it was never meant to be used on.

That was all it took. While it at first looked as if Burt had slain the devil, his attack did little more than separate the creature into two still functional halves, and those two halves quickly claimed their end of the sword. Richter’s thoughts immediately jumped to the ruins of Salvation Point, to the gargoyle he had killed, but the spirit of that monster had been claimed by the sword’s own magic. This was different. Damonzahn wasn’t absorbing this thing. This shadow creature was the aggressor. It was absorbing Damonzahn! And once inside the sword, the monster took control its magic, using it burrow into Burt’s flesh like a parasite. The hapless man’s skin bubbled and rippled like liquid as dark magic writhed about under it, permanently changing the physical makeup of its host. In reality it was no different than when Hargus created gargoyles, but there was something about how human Burt still looked that made Richter’s skin crawl.

It was harrowing to watch, and Richter would have looked away, but there wasn’t a muscle in his body that he could currently control. He was forced to stare as the fighter was transformed into some black-skinned, white-haired monster himself. There wasn’t much time to gawk, however, as a shade creature came slithering towards them, its hand morphed into the shape of a scythe. The Ilian futilely tried to move, to defend himself, but his body was still surging with immobilizing pain.

Then, suddenly, a huge earthen wall rose from the ground, dividing the space between the two humans and the shade. The dirt wall blocked Richter’s view of their attacker, but it surged forward into the shade, and it looked, at least to the fallen Ilian, as if it had struck.

"AHHHH!"

Richter could hear Elias’s voice ring through the air as a bright shower of ocean-blue sparkles filled the space around him, and as the magic came into contact with the Ilian’s body, the pain that had taken hold of him began to subside. The staff’s magic moved through him like flowing water. First his fingers, then his arms, and when the magic reached Richter’s chest, he involuntarily took a deep, life restoring breath. The feeling of air filling his lungs was euphoric. Had he not taken a breath since falling to the ground? Whatever, he was breathing now.

The dark air, its stifling overwhelmingness and its sense of dread, that had gripped Richter seemed to dissipate as he regained control of his body, but his head still throbbed like a rung bell. His ears were sensitive to every shout of a soldier, every shriek of a gargoyle, and every sword clash of the battle happening just over by the wall. It was like an incredibly bad hangover. Ugh, if only that was the case. Richter could only guess what had just happened to him. He figured that it had something to do with his prior possession, but seeing as his body was working well enough now it was time for him to get back into the fight. He could reflect on the consequences of previous magical wounds after this was all over.

This stiffness and seizure gone from him, the commander attempted to get to his feet, but his legs were slow to catch up to the rest of his body. They still felt rubbery and weak. Dammit, now was not the time for this!

In frustration the upset commander slammed his fist into the dirt, but instead of hitting dirt, he hurt his hand on the bony shaft of a certain axe. Boreas. Richter’s eyes widened in surprise. How had it gotten here? Last he’d seen of it was in the now deceased cyclops’s gullet. No matter. It was here now, and good thing too because from what the commander could see, the shade that had been approaching them earlier was now crawling, like a spider, over the dirt wall that Richter could only assume Elias had made to protect them. It had bought them a moment, but that moment was up.

“Move!” he shouted just as the shade leapt at them from the wall like a panther. It cut through the air, its extended arms now a cluster of vicious claws. It would not be denied its prey again. Too bad Richter, whose hand was currently locked tight around Boreas, was quicker on the uptake.

With a primal roar the pink-haired Ilian surged to his feet, forcing his protesting limbs to propel him skyward, and single-handedly swung the head of his magic weapon straight into the gut of the shadow beast that dared assault him. The strike hit full on, the blade of the axe buried soldily into the thing's ribcage, completely halting the shade in its tracks. It frantically attempted to slide itself off of the weapon, to avoid further harm, but Richter wasn’t done yet. Continuing the momentum of his swing, he grabbed the end of Boreas’s haft with his free hand, then arced the axe over his head before driving it into the ground on the opposite side of him, bringing the shadowy fiend along with it.

The force of the impact was so devastating that it scattered chunks of dark matter off of the Arum soul’s physical host and onto the dirt surrounding it. The creature needed a moment to reform, and as it did, Boreas’s swirled with icy rage. Its head burst outward like an angry snowflake, firing spiked crystals into the arms, chest, and head of the body that the shade currently possessed. It was pinned.

“Hit it! Something! Now!”

[Burt]

Only two more remained and Nega Burt was eager to see his task done. The beast sniffed the air searching out his next target. However during his search a few of the insignificant humans scurried there way up to him. Frighten by his form and wary of his power they attempted to strike out at the Arum Knight from behind. The fools, as if Nega Burt could not sense them. As the sacean swordsmen struck Burt quickly turned and cut through his feeble blade. The King's blade then sailed on and split open the boy of the man. His life force empowered the sword as Burt dodged a incoming strike from a second swordsmen. With a quick thrust Nega Burt sent the man to the neither as his life force as well joined one with the sword. Astonished and frighten by the monsters mighty power the last swordsmen attempted to flee. However Nega Burt was not going to have it. They dared to get in his way and now that they were dying they wanted to flee. As if he would let that happen. With a great leap into the air and a few acrobatic spins Burt sliced the man down the middle, but also pulled off the classic mid air flips mercenaries were so famed of using.

"Now to my true task", he spoke as he took off at astonishing speed. His eyes were focused on the breach. He felt the other shade there taking care of its chosen topics. With the vengeance of a wrathful god the black skinned monster made its entrance by hacking away at the soldiers blocking his bath. The men and women fell like wheat to a scythe as Nega Burt finally laid eyes on his target. The shade was aiming for the Shaman and seemed to be in a engagement with a young grey hair. The two of them seemed formidable enough, but Nega Burt's really bad vibe came from the young girl that was not far away. He could practically smell the blood on her.

Engaging them directly would not be a wise choice. However the were between him and his target. still Nega Burt could use this to his advantage. Rather than fight them all and then chase after the shade, Nega Burt could use the mas a distraction and rush in to finish off the creature once and for all. Holding back Nega Burt waited tilld they engaged the shade and then, and only then he rushed forward leaping over the shaman and landing close to the war maiden with the blades. He then rushed forward with the King's blade at the ready. As he swung at the shade it moved, but this however was expected. Burt simply dashed to his left catching the shade off guard with his surprising speed and then cut the beast into two halves. The blade did the rest of the work as But took out his forth target. Now however he had these three to deal with.

Rising up form the absorption Nega Burt had his back turned to the three heroes. His eyes burned red like fire and his silky white hair flowed in the wind. "Flee now humans", he spoke in a deep and bellowing voice. "For you are not my targets. I seek only the shadows, your lives are not worth the trouble they present."

[Jya]

Where ever two ran, there was only more disaster and dying men. Jya can sympathize with the priest wanting to stop and heal, but it was more important that she kept him living and breathing. They had to keep moving, or they would be overwhelmed by the monsters. Their very existence seem to hate life itself, unfortunately for the dying, they would only serve as a momentary distraction so they could gain a valuable few seconds. It was then that they approached their original position, where she had saved the priest. It was also where the horrors seem to continue. A shade of a man, if it could be called that, appeared to be approaching the shaman and swordswoman.

"Damn another obstacle," Jya cursed, her free hand digging back into the folds of clothing to rest on her hilt. By this point, it had become second nature to drag the troublesome priest about. She hardly noticed that her other hand was preoccupied. It wasn't until she heard her own panting that she began to slow down just slightly. They had ran quite a distance to go back to the starting point, but that was fine by her. It was good to feel alive, slightly tired, but alive.

Well she did offer her aid to the others as well. It was then that she was reaching for one of her throwing knives in hopes to distract the shade, when another stepped up and slew the monster. While the slayer was finishing off the creature, she had reached the other two and stood beside them. The man gave her the hives as much as the creature had. He wasn't...right, so her hand fell to her killing edge, keeping her own eyes open for hostility.

"Unfortunately there isn't many places to run to," she replied, indicating to the monster infested area the duo had run from.

"I'm not stopping you from leaving though," she continued, feeling a sort of tension growing. By now, she had released her hold on the priest and the other monster had her undivided attention.

[Elias]

The creature was tenacious, but honestly Elias never truly believed his spell would do anything to it. It was a mean to buy him time to heal Richter, and in that case it performed its job fantastically. Good on you Gaea, in the time it took for the monster to overcome the hurdle, Elias had unleashed a fortifying rain of light on the area and filled the tortured Red2 with life once more. Elias still felt nothing but dread however, and he couldn't even pin where it was coming from anymore. Was it the Arum soul? Hargus? The former-man that stole Richter's blade? The feeling of the nether and darkness was thick, this land would be cursed for years to come. So much whatever this was in one place, it was like walking through sludge with how it hung in the air.

Now was not the time for that however, it wasn't the time to curse himself for being too slow, it wasn't the time to debate the ramifications of all this magic, he could theorize and hypothesize all he wanted, it hadn't done a thing up to this point. Now was the time for action. He knew nothing, less then nothing, and focusing on that all he wanted didn't make him learn things clearly beyond his grasp. Instead he knew a few things that were true, and that he could use. One, this fellow was anxiously trying to devour all the Arum souls. Two, the final one he needed was right here for him and Red2 to take down. And three, Elias was a damn good mage.

It skittered over the wall Elias had erected like some kind of skittering spider thing, crawling around on all fours in unnatural movements. Jerky and sudden, Elias went to follow up his spell but he noticed his battle buddy was already moving. So Elias' spell gave him the strength to continue fighting? He would feel pride if he had the time to be feeling such unimportant things, the only thing that mattered right now was passion. Will. Fire. Richter shouted at Elias to move, and he did, he stepped back and threw out his arms. While Richter distracted it, Elias prepared a spell.

Lightning crackled all about him, in his hand and atop the staff of Matrona, it whipped and snaked about, growing brighter and more intense as he focused his magic, as he focused the spirits. They were scared, it would be hard no to be scared with all this darkness, but they still answered his call. He reached out to them, and they took his hand in theirs. They did not like this darkness, and if they could be rid of it then it would be a worthy cause. The lightning grew more intense, whipping from his hand down to the earth in small blasts, the sound was like that of a chittering, a snake as it hissed with power.

As Richter struck the beast with his frigid axe, Elias was aiming the spell, where it should hit. The more he focused, the more accurate it would be, and accuracy was key. Richter swung the axe and beast overhead, and filled it with his frost. Perfect, he couldn't move. He was frozen, unable to outrun the lightning. The magic he gathered built to a head, and in his hand he held what could only be called the storm itself. "Richter!" Elias shouted as he thrust his hand into the air, from his hand a blast of electricity fired right into the sky disappearing into the clouds. "Move!"

From the skies ripped a bolt of lightning, smiting the earth from the heavens. It wasn't alone, with it several brothers were called down along side it in quick succession. Powerful blasts that tore the earth when they struck, ripping the dirt and leaving nothing but a charred scar. The lightning was all focused on the frozen creature, blasted again and again, time after time by bolt after bolt. The electricity coursing through it's body and shattering the ice coating it, but it couldn't escape. It was too late as another bombarded down upon it, if it was not pinned by the ice it was pinned by the thunder. The creature of darkness being slammed with the very fury of nature itself.

[Kenshin]

Kenshin's arrow had hit it's mark, it had appeared to kill the fiend. Watching his bloodied body hit the ground Kenshin had sheathed the Regal blade, he had knew of it's ability to block magic and with Hargus dead he didn't need it's power. Before he could draw his Wo Dao he saw Hargus' wings spring back up, from there it was as if he devoured the life force from the Cyclops to heal himself before creating what looked like shadow men to send at the others. He had stood in awe of what had just happened, he should have at least expected it but he didn't, it didn't take Hargus long to set his gaze upon the Crimson Demon, it was here he knew he was Hargus' target. Hargus had started to fly towards him at a great speed.

There was only one way Kenshin knew he could counter the attack, using the speed of unsheathing his Wo Dao in addition to his natural speed he could cut Hargus down in one attack. The Regal Blade would be a much better weapon to fight the fiend, but the style of the blade as well as it's weight would only slow down his attack. Taking a defensive stance, he dug his heels into the ground as he shifted his body where his shoulder was facing Hargus. He gripped the handle of the Wo Dao and waited for the moment to strike, that moment was now. Drawing the blade at a speed most humans couldn't dodge he swung the sword at the demon, who did a barrel roll and took the air.

Hargus wasted no time diving back down towards the crimson clad swordsman, Kenshin dropped his sword as he rolled away from the attack. Hargus landed with a loud boom, he had left a small indentation where he had landed, he wasted no time by lobbing a ball of his vile black magic at Kenshin. Mid roll Kenshin had began to draw the Regal blade, using it to deflect the magical attack launched at him. "Ha! It looks like you 'heroes' came prepared today with you little silver and regal toys." Charging forward Kenshin knew he would have to keep him grounded, he was out of arrows and had just his Regal blade to fight with, it was heavier than what he would normally used, he began to swing the sword frantically much like he did the last time the two had fought. Hargus easily avoided each attack, like before, yet he didn't try to counter attack, was he just mocking Kenshin?

Hargus began to crackle like a maniac with each dodged attack, play time was over, taking his right hand he drove his claws into his stomach. Kenshin had stopped his flurry of sword swipes upon the pain shooting through his stomach. This caused Hargus to laugh ever more than the madman he has shown so far. "After all this time and this is the best the Crimson Demon can do?" Hargus said mockingly, Kenshin balled up his left fist and let loose a hay-maker, catching Hargus off guard. The first blow Kenshin had ever landed on Hargus during all of their fights was a punch. It didn't matter to Hargus, he had done what he sought out to do, to get the swordsman to wear himself out. Before Hargus could become airborne again, he could sense a pulse from Kenshin. Against a normal foe, that pulse would have caused them to become dizzy, but against Hargus it did nothing like that. Instead, it caused him to pause for a moment for he didn't know what had just happened.

Kenshin had used that momentarily pause to his advantage, he had began to swing the Regal blade upwards towards his wing, cutting through the flaps hitting the bone. Hargus howled in pain as he picked Kenshin up off the ground and threw him a good 15 feet. Kenshin had hit the ground, hard. He skidded for a second before his body began to roll, he slowly got to one knee resting his sword arm upon it as his free hand was placed across the wound Hargus had just ripped open. He remembered very well the last time they fought, he had injury in a location close to this one, he had received it while fighting Hartmut, it would have been deeper if he didn't use that kid as a human shield.

His final wish back then was to say good bye to Katara, he knew he couldn't beat Hargus then and he knows he couldn't beat him now. The only chance of winning was being kept busy by the shadow men he had spawned, Hargus had been walking towards him this whole time. The gap between the two was quickly closing, Kenshin pushed himself up running towards the fiend, his second wind had came and gone a while ago. He knew his chances of survival were low, but he had intended to drag this demon to hell with him.

[Oya]

Oya began to move toward the sounds of combat, mainly the screams of horror. He knew the demon had done something, but he did not know exactly what. Oya had just gotten back his right leg. It was soar from the healing, but it was functional and that meant that he could use it. Still he wondered what was causing such a ruckass. Suddenly multiple bolts of lighting rained down from the heavens in a distance. It was clearly from where the sound was originally coining from and form the looks of the power Oya was sure whatever the demon king had brought out of his box of tricks was dead. Still there was much more work to be done. There were a few lesser monsters running around, but if they did not directly block Oya's path he planned to let the other warriors take care of them. Oya could not be expected to take on all the work, though he had not done any for a good bit thanks to his leg.

There was only one target left on Oya's radar. That was the demon king himself. The Nya pirates still had a score to settle with his winged @##. The betray of turning all the southern bandits weighed heavy on the hearts of the pirates here fighting with Oya and the blow from the cyclopse still throbbed in Oya's leg. He was going to make him bay, and pay he was. After smashing two to four of the lesser undead and smacking a flying gargoyle like a baseball Oya finally found his target. To his great surprise however it seemed that the legendary swordsmen was in a bit of trouble. That however did not bold well for Oya. If Kenshin could not take the monster then what hope he had. Sure he had a magical hammer of might, but that did not equal instant victory. However there was one thing clear to Oya. If Kenshin fell to the beast then they were all doomed. He had seen what happens when people die to these monsters. They always came back and not on there side either.

Oya slammed Xigshaw into the ground for a moment and took out his old twin throwing axes. He paused for a moment to get a perfect aim and then tossed them at the flying beast. He was sure this would not kill Hargus, but it might distract him long enough for Kenshin to either retreat or get in a really good blow. Either way Oya was going to have to join the fight. He could not simply sit back as all of Sacae was whipped out by this monster. Though it was a bit ironic.

Retaking Xigshaw in his hand Oya charged forward. He still had a good bit of a battlefield to cross, but he was not going to miss out on this fight. "Nya sends her regards", he shouted as he ran forward.

[Remus]

Remus was at a loss for words. Not because he couldn't think of any. He could. Thoughts such as Stop! Wait! Hold on! That man needs healing! We should save them~! and other assorted exclamations filled his mind. However the constant running had quickly started to tire the priest out. Compounded with tireless healing for hours with the sudden burst of moment had him greedily stealing all the air he could on each raspy inhale. Remus wasn't very physically gifted. Being light in weight was the only valuable asset to him at the moment. However his weakened body and naturally untrained cardiovascular system did not take kindly to the sudden motions. However in the life or death moment his body entered the preservation of fight or flight, ironically deciding to fight and suppress the natural urges to rest or breath as more fiends appeared.

Though the woman was a true blessing, he still had no idea as to who she was or how she had stumbled upon him two times as she did. As his mind tried to replay the moment he found himself tugged back to the very same location they had been at initially. Remus however yelped a bit in surprise at the shadowy figure that approached. Still clutching his staff tightly in one hand he felt the woman's hand release his wrist as she gripped for her blade. The creature was something..foul. Of the void. Slowly Remus tried to catch his breath. Calm his heart rate. Silent, deep breaths through the nose became quiet exhales while he clasped his staff tightly. He held it infront of his chest, and though he did not close his eyes or look away from the monstrosity he slowly prayed. He looked to the two females, one who had already saved him twice and the other who had helped save him initially. Then to the man clad in black; who he had seen earlier commanding the twisting dark mass of elder magic. Remus shivered slightly as the creature approached. His thoughts echoed through his mind and though he mouthed them his lips did not release sounds.

Saint Elimine. Shield us in this conflict. Guide us as you would act yourself and grant us your strength. We've need of it, I fear.

[Dietrich Landrik]

As a shade slithered its way through a rank of pirates, it found its true prey just beyond the wall. Fuchs, who had just moved the loud-mouthed Oya to a healer, looked on in horror as the cadre of men that were surging through the gate to enter the fight were cut down like grass from a scythe. As the shade's blade passed through them, their flesh vanished from their bones, only leaving skeletons adorned in armor - crumpled into a heap at the bloody gates. It was with plenty of luck that Fuchs was just outside the striking range of such an attack. To think he was to step off to find Dietrich and Berg if they still were alive. They were out there somewhere, but there was just too much going on. At least Oya had left. Nifty little hammer he had. Still, he didn't need such haughty magic weapons.

The nether manifested as an unholy assassin was almost impossible to keep his eyes off of. It was death incarnate in all sense of the word. Those who had fell many men would be nicknamed after these warriors of nihil, yet here they were in all of their infamy. As one rushed towards a woman and a healer, he rushed towards them to see if he could provide any assistance. He almost bumped into a large bearded man and another helmeted one. He recognized them right away. "Good." he simply remarked, passing them by and charging the shade with his bardiche at the front. No time for words.

--

Dietrich and Berg were practically standing on top of the wounded they protected from the onslaught of Gargoyles. They had ways of diving in and picking off those who were defenseless. It was a nightmarish cycle of having to mercy kill those wounded that would turn due to the corrupting nature of the gargoyle's weapons. Dietrich had no time to cry or mourn. It was to kill or be killed. Such cruel simplicity eroded at his soul as he continued onward and spilled more black blood.

From the corner of his eye the marine saw a dark mass approaching them with such eerie stillness and predatory speed that it struck more fear into him than Hargus and his one-eyed giant ever did. It was something that should've never seen the light of day. The imaginary beast told of in children's tales to keep the little hellions disciplined. Reactively, Dietrich stumbled backwards to try and distinguish any features from the shimmering mass. It was hard for him to see if the fiend was close or far or even a figment of his imagination. It was his lost comrade that passed him by that brought him back to his senses. His mind screamed in joy for Fuchs to be alive and well, yet he saw him run towards the foul creature with determination. The blonde swordsman had no other choice but to join him. "Berg, with me!" he commanded, moving forward. He didn't even think of anything else but to join his comrade in the fight. If he weren't already grasping hold of his sword and the Sacaen blade, he wouldn't have thought to grab a weapon at all. Such bonds were as of the same steel as the weapons he held. "Ye don't even have to say it twice, Landrik. I'm right behind you." the large compatriot said, hefting his large blade along with him.

[Ilheod]

Death lay around them. In every direction. The Wyvern unit had killed scores of Gargoyles already. However the sheer number was enough that the 10 man unit was working tirelessly simply to manage out a dent in the original size. They did not base it however on the number of monsters they slew. They based it on the number of lives they saved. The number of defenders that would return home to their families, and the number of innocents saved because of those defenders. If they could keep fighting, keep pressing; they would see their job through. When they had fought in Bern, the skies had been theirs uncontested. Even when Ilheod took his unit out into Lycia, the skies were theirs. They had to share it with the occasional fledgling Pegasus rider true, but the wyvern riders of Bern had always claimed dominance in the air. These dark twisting monstrosities that would encroach on their air superiority to harm others was unacceptable.

Wyverns flew in and out of groups consisting of the winged abominations. Where they lost speed to the winged "pegasi" they supplemented with armor and scales. Wyvern and Rider alike armored heavily enough that the glancing blows of the foul gargoyles wouldn't penetrate in time for them to dispense unbiased justice unto their bodies at the point of lance and fang and claw. Ilheod was able to kill them with single blows, knowing in certainty they were felled as his silver spear replicated the success upon fighting the demonic "king" prior. His riders would not always land final blows, but seriously wounding ones that would cause them to fall only to be executed by the ground based defenders. In the skies it was simply a mass of wings. Midnight blue armored draconic mounts buffeting their wings at times to "hover" to knock back an approaching gargoyle before the rider skewered it. At times a rider would wound one yet it would still maintain it's ability to fly off. To prevent it from recovering the rider would briefly break off of the formation and circle around to execute it before lowering in elevation and raising back up to join the group.

However Ilheod recognized the trouble swiftly approaching. A large group of gargoyles had broken off, seeming to move towards them as if a "flock" of the foulest birds to defile creation with their unfortunate presence. Snarling a bit, the rage from earlier started to boil within the Wyvern Lord as he quickly scanned the skies. Above them was clear. Steering Astraeus upwards into the sky the spear head formation of riders quickly climbed even while they were pursued. The large wyvern leading the others climbed a bit faster with heavier and stronger wing-beats. Ilheod lifted his spear to signal for them to cease climbing. The armored wyverns suddenly fully extended their wings, as if a man popping out his arms to prepare for a dive into water. Time stood still for a small moment, as the ten riders glided upon the air currents of the wind blowing by. In that instant he could see the mass climbing up towards them. Ilheod's lance tipped downwards to angle towards them. Annnnnnnd..."Dive!" He shouted with the edge of a snarl while ordering his unit. It was akin to a brutal form of the entertainment found in a joust.

All ten riders rocketed downwards at impressive speeds as if projectiles from a ballista. Each wyvern tucked in their wings to their sides. The vulnerable webbing contracted as armor plated wing joints and bone folded up to resemble the outer layer. The riders pressed their bodies to their mounts firmly, arm's extended with spears out ahead of the wyvern's heads as they collided into the formation of gargoyles. Where as they were a trained military unit, performing an exercise of aerial combat practiced both in skirmishes and war; the creatures were monstrosities of the nether acting on instinct. By waiting on the air currents they gave the creatures a moment to fixate their gaze. Become focused on what they would do when catching the riders in that poise; acting fast enough to most likely catch them all in a slight shock as their minds adjusted to the process.

The sound of combat rang heavily in the skies. The riders formation after the dive broke off as the riders tried to maximize on their momentum. It quickly broke into actions akin to a dogfight, as the armored riders soared through the skies focused on bringing down the next prey. While the gargoyles sought to hunt them, the wyvern riders had turned into the hunters. Ilheod however, thinking back to William shouted out loudly so he could be heard above the din of combat. "Keep your surroundings lads. Remember our fallen!" It was all he needed to say. Keeping his gaze aware, he snarled and plunged his spear into another before diving only to loop back around. Racing briefly along a segment of the broken wall before circling up; Ilheod did his best to in that single strafing run clear or knock off any gargoyles attempting to wound or harass the defenders. He rejoined his unit briefly as they continued to deliver Bernese justice unto the foul abominations.

[Valcrist]

He ran, he ran as fast as he could. He leapt from roof to roof, crossing across the city from the east to the south. He covered the distance swiftly, but was it swift enough? As he ran he couldn't stop thinking, his mind filled with countless things. His mind raced with a thousand thoughts and he knew not which ones were worth the precious little time he had. What could he do? That one stuck out in particular, and it was a doozy.

What could he do, Richter was here, Kenshin was here, all the best warriors were here, just how much could Valcrist help? He was just one man, one blacksmith, not a warrior of legends. Kenshin was a man he idolized, he emulated, his adolescence was filled with tails of his victory against the bandit king hargus and he wanted to be like him so bad it hurt. He grew out his hair, he learned to use a sword, he even met the man once and he simply fled in fear. This whole time he had been here he could have met the man, but every time he did not, he purposely avoided it. In Valcrist's mind he was still an icon, even to this day. He felt so small against mammoths of men, pinnacles of battle, warriors without equal. He was just a blacksmith. What could he do?

He wasn't a weakling, not anymore, but he has never considered himself a great warrior. People trained their whole lives to be great warriors, he's fought for five years, he was still a child compared to these men. He's fought a dragon, but it wasn't alone, it was with others. Wyatt and Mana were nowhere to be seen, and there wasn't a dragon anywhere to fight. He had a bow, but it wasn't of much use at a time like this. He had no idea what was going on, he hadn't been on the front lines of the battle. What happened to Hargus, what happened to that cyclops, what happened to Kenshin, what happened to Richter, these were all questions he knew not the answer to.

Did he need these answers though? Did he need to know what happened? Did he need to know what he could do? He could spend all day thinking and wondering and hoping, 'oh what can I do', 'oh I hope this is good enough', 'oh I wonder if I'll help'. He could spend all this time, his whole life wondering, or he could act. Whatever he did was better then nothing, he needed to stop thinking about what he couldn't do and instead about what he could. He had a sword, and he had two perfectly good hands to swing it, wasn't that enough?

He jumped from the building he was on to the ground, landing softly. He didn't know what he was going to do, but he was going to do something. As his foot touched down to the earth, he ran. He ran far faster then ever before, he exploded with speed as everything began to blur around him. The city becoming little more then shapes and colors as his body moved past at speeds that should not be possible. He knew what he would do, Kenshin may be a god of battle, but even gods can use help.

Whilst the king of bandits manhandled the weakened Kenshin, tossing him about like a child bored of his toy. While Kenshin used the last bit of his strength to rush forward and make one final stand against the monster of a man for his home and his family. While a pirate that was once their enemy charged against the maddened self-styled King, getting revenge on a beast who betrayed him. Valcrist came running. Valcrist ran and he drew his blade, Fang. It whistling as it sliced through the winds, eager to bite into the flesh of this beast. A monster who's focus was solely on Kenshin and none other, Valcrist was beneath his notice, nothing more then an insect. Of course what Hargus was forgetting is even an insect can still bite. So it was his chance. His chance to do something that mattered, to help his former hero and to make his own stand against this monster. Valcrist struck at him from the side, attacking him with a swing carrying the entirety of the momentum of his cross-city dash. A heavy strike carrying all the force he could possibly throw behind it. This might be his only chance and he needed to make it count.

[Mana]

Mana glared at the Arum Knight. Something about him wasn't right and the dangerous vibe she was getting from him...it was even worse than those gargoyles. Still keeping her battle stance with Falcatta in her right hand brandished at the new opponent and her left hand positioned across her chest, the girl was guided by her instinct to prepare for the worst. His pressure only was able to make her feel like being choked but Mana somehow managed to gather her mental strength to withstand his demonic aura.

Her eyes glanced at the green assassin with black hair. Surely having Jya on her side would be a great help although Mana wouldn't mind facing this nether creature alone. However, it wouldn't be easy to trust her back to an assassin. Well, the Emerald Wraith had helped the daring priests saving people and eliminating some of the monsters so maybe she could be trusted for this one.

"If you are not fighting him then I am going to do it," she whispered as she stepped forward,

Mana's expression looked stiff. She was barely keeping her sanity from being taken by the voices that had been urging her to slay the Arum Knight since he had made his sudden entrance. It was rare for her to find Falcatta being so bloodthirsty. Maybe the spirits within the blade were scared...or threatened and challenged...by the strong dark aura coming from Burt. Maybe the spirits were right, he might be a great danger. Technically, Burt was her ally. He had defended the city from the invaders and if his strange destiny hadn't let him to darker path, he probably would have fought alongside Mana and the others. However, the swordgirl wasn't aware of that so the white-haired man before her was considered as nothing but an dangerous enemy.

"I don't know who you are but Falcatta is telling me that you are my enemy." Mana pointed the blade at Burt as she spoke. Her intense glare was a proof that she was serious. Although she was young, Mana had enough experience fighting alongside or against some most formidable warriors in Elibe. Just by looking at Nega Burt she could estimate that his strength was comparable to Richter or Kenshin. Maybe it was her pride as a warrior that made her want to test herself against this monster or maybe it was because Falcatta urged her to defeat him, Mana wasn't sure why but she knew one thing fr sure... "I am going to cut you down!!!" she roared.

Mana utilized her speed and agility to make a rocket dash toward nega Burt, adding some sidesteps from her confusing footwork to throw him off guard. When they both were already in each other's sword range, Mana kicked the ground and leapt to add more strength to her charge as she swung her sword downward, aiming to cleave Burt's head.

[Hargus]

Hargus’s eyes were wild with fury as he approached the Crimson Demon. His every footstep was the beat of a wardrum, and every breath he took sounded like wildfire. His wings were open wide, blotting out of the sun as it set behind him and casting a long, terrible shadow that engulfed the entirety of the swordsman that now charged him. So, Kenshin had managed to mark him. Good. GOOD! If he died too quickly, too easily, then what was the point of all of this? The Sacaen needed to PROVE HIS WORTH! Hargus had brought a fell army here to greet him, so he needed to fight back! He needed to prove that Demon King had not gone to such incredible lengths, had not brought his full force to bear, JUST TO STAMP OUT VERMIN!

“You don’t deserve your title, whelp!” growled Hargus as he grabbed at Kenshin’s throat. “You style yourself a demon, but you are nothing more than a man. Just a little man!” Black spittle flew from the giant man’s jaw as he shouted. “Without your hero friends, you are NOTHING!” The necromancer possessed snarled like a predator about to devour its prey as he brought his face closer to Kenshin’s own. “I am TRUE demon. THE DEMON KING! I will make a fine slave of you. You shall be my prized thrall!”

But Hargus, as arrogant and mad as the dark powers had made him, distracted himself with his boasting and shouting. Too blind with misplaced fury and anger, he was struck from the side by two bladed objects that had come sailing through the air. Throwing axes. One lodged itself in the Demon King’s arm, while the other left a gash in his shoulder before cutting on through the air. The wounds were shallow, but any blood spilled was too much for Hargus.
“WHO!?!” he shouted as he tore the stuck axe from his arm and tossed it over his shoulder. He turned his attention from Kenshin, his full fury now borne upon the Xigshaw wielding pirate that was charging towards him. That orange hair! “YOU! You are becoming quite the ANNOYANCE!” The Demon King roared as he flung an orb of necrotic energy at Oya. “Was your friend not enough of a casualty? Must you continue to oppose me!?” The magic hit the ground in front of the approaching brigand, instantly withering the greenery that grew there and bringing for black tentacles from the blighted ground that struck and swung at the pirate.

But despite his rage and his power, yet another weapon tasted Hargus’s tainted flesh. An unassuming blonde warrior, wielding a blackened sword. The Demon King hadn’t even noticed him. These humans were like cockroaches! Squash one and another would come crawling out the wall!

Hargus made to turn around, to confront his attacker, but a wave of pain shot through his body as he felt the cold tip of steel poking in between his ribs. What? Another wound this deep, again BY SURPRISE!? This was no ordinary sword!. It was not silver, but something about it, about its metal, disrupted the magical energies that coursed throughout his body. The black carapace that had become his skin tried to reform, to close the hole around the weapon, but every time it touched the sword’s blade, it turned to sludge and sloughed off the Demon King’s body and onto the ground. Black blood continued to drip from the wound. WHAT!?

“NO!” Hargus shouted, raising a hand to the sky. “I WILL NOT LET IT BE SO!” Nether magic began to coagulate around the Demon King’s raised arm, but bits and pieces of the dark mass were thrown off, the spell in a continuing state of flux due to the sword that pierced Hargus’s side. They struck the ground, like acid rain, decaying whatever they touched, leaving brown stains among the blood soaked grass. But Hargus cared not.

“YOU. WILL. ALL. DIE!” Hargus shouted as he unfurled his demonic wings. “EVERY. LAST. ONE. OF YOU. WILL DIE!” With a mighty flap, the Demon King took to the sky, dark magic still spattering from his spell hand. Against the setting sun, he was a black spot, a blemish on an otherwise beautiful red sunset. “I DID NOT COME TO BE KILLED, BUT TO KILL! I DID NOT COME TO BE RULED, BUT TO RULE!”

“HOLLOM ACHA FEK OZH!”

The once calm Hargus was no more. Like the spell he bore on his arm, he had grown crazed and erratic with embarassed fury, and with guttural demonic language spewing from his dry, twisted lips, he hurled his unstable spell towards the ground below. The black mass of nether shivered and shook as it tore through the air. It rattled so violently that it looked as if it would tear into pieces. But it did not. It finished its malevolent journey in one piece, and struck the ground with incredible force. The spell shattered the earth. Power, absolute power, sent chunks of rock, grass, dirt, flesh, bone, blood in all directions, creating a crater like scar in the ground below the flying demon. And from the cracks now etched in the ground spewed tendrils of dark nether that lashed out in all directions, looking to crush or sever whatever living thing they could come in contact with.

“I AM HARGUS,” the Demon King cried as he came soaring back down to earth. “I AM IMMORTAL! I AM THE DEMON KING!”

[???]

That sword...

The dark, wispy, immaterial presence at the base of Burt's skull hissed like a sinister mist at the base of a dark waterfall. Once again the shadow thing's influence began to work its power over the Arum Knight's mind, mingling its desires with his own. But now it was not one, but...two? Perhaps three? No, four. Four distinct presences, and yet they were all one in thought, one in purpose. Like a million raindrops making up a cloud, it was like fog rolling down a mountain. Beautiful from a distance, but obscuring all it covered. Like the shades physical presence, it did not change what it touched. It merely possessed it and made it its own. The shadow was making itself comfortable in its new home.

Our brother will dissipate soon. It is regretful, but he is no use to us now. This sword, this girl, however, could prove to be a nuisance.

Blackness began to encroach into Burt's conciousness. Fear? Rage? Such emotions began to bleed over into the emotions of its host. Idea became motivation. Suggestion became compulsion. Word became action. Rational thought began to fade, and inhibitions were tossed aside. The Arum Knight could feel his hand tighten around Damonzahn's hilt as the blade began to flare with dark power. Its hunger washed over him in waves, his whole being become ravenous. The sword's hunger was his own. He was the sword. He was hunger. He desired all energy. A being of pure emotion. A sword of dark desire. A pair made for hell.

Kill her.

[Jya]

The swordswoman stepped forward though, determined to fight the monster before them. Jya would much rather run and hide, but there was no nowhere to do so. There were too many monsters and no where to really run to. Plus the priest was quite a bit of trouble to deal with and hopefully he doesn't run off while they faced against the creature. There was no going back, so when the swordmaiden charged, it was enough of a clue for her to do the same. Sure she noticed the whole evil thing going on with the creature, but she wasn't bound by anything to end it except for her need to survive. In these kinds of situation it was best to kill before being killed.

As the woman charged forward, she following close behind, her hand gripped her Killing Edge. She didn't doubt the woman's skills, she just feared that the creature before them was better. It was best to try to end this as quickly as possible. After the initial charge, she was quick to dart to the side, circling around the man to get a good strike from behind. She didn't have any fancy magic or weapons, but she had always trusted her instincts. At the moment her instinct screamed at her to slay the creature if she planned on getting out of the mess alive.

When the woman moved to clash from the front, she had begun to dash straight for his back. With the ease and practice gained from her many kills, her blade flashed from its sheath, aiming to slice through the neck. Hopefully decapitation was as effective to any creature, even monsters. It worked with the gargoyle, so it might work here if she manages it.

[Burt]

Kill, that was the order that came from the back of Nega Burt's head. The Arum Knight paid close attention to the maiden's movement as she rushed forward. The second maiden, the smaller one seemed to move as well. She was faster than the first and took a more looping motion, an assault on his flank. A attack from both the front and the back. This would not bold well. If Nega Burt attempted to deal with bullheaded maiden he would be assaulted from behind. If he attempted to remove the enemy moving to get behind him then he would be assaulted from the front. There was only one clear option here. Burt waited for the moment the maiden committed herself to the strike. She jumped into the air in an attempt to give her strike more power. This however gave Burt the moment he needed. Qucikly the abomination dashed forward toward his left side. With the maiden in the air she could not turn herself to strike at the fleeing enemy. Not only that, but her body provided a excellent buffer to prevent the smaller woman from simply dashing behind him and stabbing Nega Burt in the back.

Once out of the trap Nega Burt swung his blade picking up a good amount of blacken earth to cause a miniture dust cloud. The earth served as a miniature smoke screen as The monster threw itself into the air. Like the fabled mercenaries of old Nega Burt sent his body into a high spinning somersault bringing his sword down not at the maiden with the magical sword, but the smaller one. She was not his target, but she was also the most dangerous of the two of them. Her speed of movement could easily cause Burt some trouble later in the fight.

Weather or not if he hit is mark or not Nega Burt quickly turned his blade and took a full power swing toward his true target. The fearsome attack ripped through the air light lighting as Nega Burt attempted to slice the maiden into two like the shades from earlier. After finishing his first assault Nega Burt let off a bone chilling howl that releases a mass of Luna magic in all directions. Those around him suffered damage to there soul itself.