Herick perceives all the scenarios and horizons he passed through. Places he has never been to, and would never imagine existed. This church in far territory was a new knowledge to him, one he would not dare forget: it would be either his graduation as an true assassin, or his failure as one. Upon entering the place, his eyes widen: it was indeed beautiful and neat, even though it looked abandoned and unused...

The Lancaster heavily breathes until he starts to control each respiration by himself, serene he was, assembling the stance of one that calculated each step and attack. Long he waited for this moment, when he was actually turning into someone unique, rather than a common who only fights regular battles for his god and commander name.

When diving more deep inside the church, he stands a bit behind the middle of it, facing his opponent, which was a holy magician. This foe would surely get advantage and pierce through Herick sinister manifestations. Although, this won't make the blonde exitate. In his eyes, was only a greater challenge that he had to surpass, if one day he would dare to mix beetwen the strongest.

"I may not have the blackness at my side now, but i'm still atrocious..."

The taciturn aura of the former covers his entire body, empowering him while at the same time conflicting with his opponent shining blessed shelter. Herick harvest the drowsing staff at his back and points it straight at Clint, engulfing the warlike magical item in the calamitous coat.

"Bring it! Say whatever you want, your light will not erase of my shadow! Heh!"
(Herick Lancaster)