Knockdown

Chrom was bored. He couldn't quite seem to rub the tiredness from his eyes, vacating the dungeon within which the others continued to argue and settle their differences-- absentmindedly observing the Academy grounds in search of entertainment.

He sets his eyes on Arthur, a brief pause before he parts from his resting spot to approach.

Though several years older then the red-haired male, they were the same height and similarly clad in armor...

"You." He addresses him sharply. "I overheard you claiming to be a Master of all sorts of Magic. You're not even an Elite, are you? That's conceited. Apologise, or show me I'm wrong."

A slight, mocking smile comes to his lips.

"...We can wager the new tokens on it. I don't even mind putting my Elite status on the line, if you have something of equal value to gamble."

(Chrom Sigma)

Bei glances between Chrom and Arthur. Oh...This seemed good.
(Bei Bei)


Varien says, "oh.. Sorry BEN! i was ..day dreaaming..probably dozing off.. What was this about arthur? Giving you teachings on our morning lord?."
Arthur's vacant gaze was mostly staring out, observing environment randomly around himself, but- it seems Chrom decided to approach him, and already he knew what purpose he's had behind his approach.

Well, of course, what else? The sort of student that Chrom was, there's only one thing he could possibly ask for - a challenge. Within quite literally a minute, that thought was only confirmed once he heard the words coming from Accursed.

"Yes, I am a Master of several magical styles- and no, you won't be getting any apology from me. Uncertain of who you dealt with before, but I have backbone."

The scarlet hues noted the mockery behind his expression, and with an irked, slight twitch of his brow, his eyelids narrowed.

"You can consider your challenge accepted- and we can wager token, then."

Immediately turning to the site with open grounds, a single glance was thrown back at Chrom, if only to exclaim.

"Come along, then."
(Arthur Rowan)

Bei Bei has exited Tower of Morning.

In all honesty, this was actually an opportunity for him to hone the Storm magic even further.

And considering how many people this Accursed has apparently beaten in the past? It'd be certainly a worthwhile challenge- even if most of these people were deemed... inadequate when it comes to fighting, there's still the fact that he was able to best this many foes in the past.

That means Arthur wouldn't be holding back.

Much as if at his command, the local Storm was summoned at will, thanks to his extensive practice with Mixed casting; within less than a minute, the humidity around the area began to rise, and the thunder boomed above them. The winds howled, and if it wasn't for their capes, someone was bound to be freezing right now.

Rain started.

First lightning struck- but not at Chrom, instead just a few meters away from him. Obviously, the magic of Storm like this was more than dangerous, and it was clearly just starting, based on the behaviour of weather. In no time, it would grow more.

"Come, then."

"I refused to become Accursed as a child in Gaiar. Show me what I missed out."
(Arthur Rowan)

The Accursed had not been expecting much of it.

His challenge is answered with confidence though, and an assertion that Arthur was indeed a 'Master' of various forms-- something even an arrogant person like Chrom never dared to claim.

There was always somebody above him, and he acknowledged that.

He tails the redhead to a more suitable spot to fight, first showing one of the new tokens between a thumb and finger to assure the other party he did indeed possess them before stowing it away. Words are spoken, potent magic displayed...

Yet the Accursed appears unfazed, confident.

"Refused? Foolish. I'll make you regret it for the rest of your life."

A dark call summons several Demonic minions to his side, Occultism and the more unusual distortion of Time magic's influence rising about Chrom; It was incomplete, but he too was attempting to combine magic seamlessly.

(Chrom Sigma)

Titles weren't everything.

That much is soon made clear, the senior and so-called Elite student having an unusually difficult time of things. His composed, defensive style of fighting relied too heavily on prediction, near-instanteous movement through storms leaving Chrom generous openings.

He suffers badly for it, almost too much for his regenerative abilities to keep up-- his own less impressive and basic means of striking back more easily guarded against and endured.

In the end it settles into a battle of attrition, narrowly in the Accursed's favour.

Once Arthur was worn down enough, he moved in to bring things to close; His aura expanded outwards, catching the Valmasian within a large pocket of slowed time. A calculated step and a surge of point-blank dark magic later, the distortion is dispelled.

His opponent is thrown by the force, enervating Occultism leeching away his remnant ability to fight.

Chrom isn't quite so arrogant-looking afterwards, his smirk slight and forced and his gait not quite upright. He would also need recovery time...

But he wasn't going to be a good sportsman about it.

"...Master?" He scoffed. "Know your place! I'll be taking that token. Don't go calling yourself something you're not, or I'll come find you again."

(Chrom Sigma)

Joy Crane whispers something.

Joy Crane whispers something.

Chrom was quite the slippery time.

It was the absolutely worst type that he could ever fight- for his magics required both precision and well timed assault, both of which were hard to perform due to how defensively Chrom played the entire time, even so much that the Storms have had a hard time to assault him properly, and actually pierce through his defence.

While there was effect, it was not completely enough to secure Arthur's victory- the skies roared with quieter tones than usually, the lightning and wind becoming slower at every turn of the battle. The power of Occultism constantly leeched away from his strength, and it was appearing over his face - growing pale and weaker, the composure of the knight has finally waivered.

And caught within the field of time trap, the force was used to throw him off. Thankfully, Arthur managed to catch himself, even if barely- the floating force of the Storm kept him sustained, but even then, it was apparent that he'd touched the ground, his elbows and his back greased with mud from a momentary fall.

An attempt to push back, to launch yet another lightning, but... nothing came out. He was drained.

A furrow of his brows, and beneath the red locks, there was fury in those scarlet eyes. Such arrogance coming from Accursed, such a sting to his pride- it's not something that he'd let go.

Oh no, he wouldn't. Ever.

"...Don't you dare."

But despite such words, he reached out for the token anyway, tossing it upward and under the angle to Chrom; whether he caught it or not, the Morninglord's knight didn't care.

"Clutch that token while you can."

"I will rip it from your hands in due time."

The mantle turned. In expression of silent fury, he began walking in completely another direction- he didn't wish to stay here. And those that'd known him better than others?

They would certainly know why.
(Arthur Rowan)