Alastor vs Koume

[19:26] Alastor marches among the troops. With him, a deadly poison spreads through the air. There seems to be a faintest taint inside of his clothes, spreading the noxious fumes through the air. Not poison magic, not anything like that; Poison. Magibane, mixed with a volatile solution, dropped in canisters by the Oscuri.

Whatever non-magi were found in conflict with the fumes, easily found themselves having their very skin and eyes melting on top of themselves, the gas eating away at their skin. However, the soldiers of Dawn seemed to be moving around clad in clothing, as well as with a gas mask, entirely covering their skin.

Perhaps it was his own surprise measure to be sure of winning this battle. No matter the cost, he had to achieve victory. After all, Huangzhou had taken something from him. Something that was, in fact, not that precious; There were worse things that they could take.

But they took his wife. Rikona, more than anything, was the one who took it. It made him boil in rage, almost visibly so in his aura. As soon as he found Koume among the gas, Alastor didn't spare any words to her. Rieka expanded outwardly, casting the same aura of intimidation that it always did, almost predatorially eating away at the very air surrounding them.

"Retreat or die." The muffled voice came out of the man clad in purple clothing, still moving steadily towards the other alchemist; Colada, an arcanium blade, unsheathed to his side, brimming with unrefined Rieka.
(Alastor G. Vishkar)
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[19:38] Shining, shimmering splendor.

Koume Bavmor burst out from Huangzhou's gates, a glittering star amongst the soldiers of the fourfold-- not one herself, but a woman with the righteous will to keep them, and the rest of Huangzhou safe. Prisoners kept in their cells. And enemies, rebuffed. Pale, slender hands shrunk into overlarge sleeves whilst her staff floated after her; a length of blackwood tipped with a silvery bell, which chimed faintly with every bobbing movement through the air.

She shined bright with exorcist magics, and the moment the defending forces were outside the gate, she created a stretch of glittering golden light across it. Layer upon layer, fueled with the Noblewoman's desire to keep her people free from the torment of deathly smog and egregiously uniformed soldiery.

She found an oscuri wreathed in rieka, and set her target. Whilst the noxious fumes flowed across the verdant green, she erected barriers to keep the worst of it from spreading to the non-magi defenders.

Retreat or die.

Koume snatched her staff from the air, and thrust it skyward. Time's Toll sounded the ringing of cathedral bells, and from all around, golden figures of light formed across the field. All humanoid, and feminine in shape, with long golden locks and depresses where their faces might be. They all spoke in unison, repeating Alastor's threat twentyfold.

"RETREAT, OR DIE."
(Koume Bavmor)
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[19:43] ** Alastor G. Vishkar has inflicted an injury upon Koume Bavmor. ("Permanent Injury", "Permanent Injury", "Permanent", "Severity: MODERATE (-20 Vit)") **
[19:56] The Oscuri continued moving forwards as they got into the combat. Of course, Koume had that ever present shimmering splendor, once shared in the eyes of this Oscuri. But now, what conducted him forward was simply the strong, oppressive aura of Rieka.

He didn't stop. There seemed to be something leaking from his gas mask, something... Red. A bottle was tied right down into it, and soon enough, Koume would know what the scent of that red smoke was. Sinka, an indication of what lied in wait for her. Alastor's movements were more and more brutish as the fight went on.

Even if her exorcism rejuvenated her skin, it was all soon gone to nothing. Each wound healed was replicated tenfold, brimming with Rieka, almost trying to take over whatever mana it could. Even if her gravity magic forced him to stay down, there was a single signal that she had lost.

She nearly had him down on the ground, but soon enough, the mask gave way to a familiar shine of green irises underneath, along with the red fumes that came out of the mouth. "You... You made a mistake." He spoke, almost too quietly, muffled by the mask.

And soon enough, Alastor's fist, powered by whatever wishes of revenge, whatever wishes to reclaim what was his, came crashing down onto her throat. Breathing would be surely difficult, but what would be more worrisome wouldn't be the obstruction provided by the blow, but the Rieka left behind. It marked her throat and the upper side of her chest with it, taking over whatever mana circuits went about that way.

Without much ado, Alastor continued to punch, even if the first blow was the strongest one. The rage potion motivated him; It forced him to go further and further, as much as possible. The noxious fumes still spread through the air, making it even harder for her to breathe, and hard yet to see the very spaces surrounding their own desolate battle.

"YOU TOOK SOMETHING FROM ME! AND NOW, I HAVE TAKEN SOMETHING FROM YOU!" Alastor spoke, before grabbing the sword yet again. A clear strike came to her side, throwing her down to the ground. Surely, Alastor thought she was dead...

But likely, she wasn't. Even if he had magibane mixed with diverse gaseous poisons, it was still far too weak. Just a prototype. But the potent blow? Ah-- That was surely to leave a reminder behind.
(Alastor G. Vishkar)
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Every time.

No matter what she did. No matter how powerful she became. No matter the techniques she learned. No matter the intricacies and complexities of her combat methodology. No matter what, The Lady Bavmor always came up a step short, in doing the one thing she vowed to. The one thing she held as her virtue, to keep her people safe and unafraid while on their own soil.

Why is it always like this?

The Lady Bavmor employed the whole of her might. In the blink of an eye, she'd trade places with one of the glossy golden images speckling the field. Mirrors of herself, repositioned in pockets of halted time, or phased into in order to fend off Rieka-wreathed sword-blows. She was had trained since she was... seventeen? Eighteen? The woman was thirty two. And still, she had yet to understand. To apply the full force of her want to protect into the shield of light.

They shattered. Again.

She couldn't stop him. She couldn't do anything. Something halted her ability to channel her magic, cursed emerald energy no doubt. Azrael's curse. Blow after blow, reversed and healed at every turn but applied with too much force, put her down.

Before she knew it, Koume was on the grass. Alastor, seething, roaring with rage. She couldn't understand him; her ears were ringing with the force of the smack of his sword that put her down.

A shunt of force at her throat. A fist came down, collapsing her windpipe and sending a shock of Rieka through her own circuitry. Staining her. She brought a hand up, and reversed the worst of the damage with reversal effect, gasping to inhale a choking cloud of poison. She felt weak, sluggish, unable to function, but, in Alastor's hastiness, she had been tossed aside.

Not finished. She wasn't finished.

The Lady Bavmor, pushed up from her prone position. She struggled to her feet, and watched as the barrier protecting Huangzhou's gate fell. Layer after layer, she parted her lips to call out, but her voice was not her own. Lower. Raspy, unable to scream for those within to be careful. To defend themselves.

She shifted, skipped through time, and flew in a stuttering tempo of fast, and slow, back home. This time, she wasn't going to give up. Alastor having turned his attention elsewhere, she got away.

Koume walked away, clutching her throat, intent on saving as many lives as she could.

(Koume Bavmor)
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[20:04] {NARRATION}
With Alastor's toxins tearing a hole through the non-magi defenders, it was up to only those that could respond in short notice to repel them. Though a valiant effort was given, the Huangzhou magi were left overwhelmed just long enough for a breach in their prison by Dawn's forces.

When the noxious fumes finally cleared, the Dawnite magi had taken their leave, and with them, a prison cell had been left empty. Thankfully for the defenders, there weren't any of their own missing when the smoke finally cleared...