Exovaryn Haruke: Gluttonous Conviction

With his cloth laid out along the grass, Kafsel carefully and patiently used his knife to engrave subtle but intricate symbols into the latest of his charms. The piece he was working on resembled a fish with a single wing adorning it's dorsal side.

Kafsel blew the wooden shavings from the crude sculpture, and he watched the wood flutter, giving way to a tiny array of feathers along it's wing. The wind stirred around him.

Illusion magic has always been a rather curious practice, but Kafsel reminded himself to observe it's manifestation instead of commanding it. There was a lot he could learn, just by watching what it chose to show him.

Kafsel returned to whittling his artifact, patiently practicing his craft.
(Kafsel)

A cackle from the earth beyond the horizon preluded to eruption of congealed conflaguration. The thunder of the magical disturbance, quaked at the earth by Kafsel's feet.
A glance up for the sight would warrant only the sight of an orbical upheaval, churning at the soils in a gravitational anamoly. A trifecta of Gravity, Cosmic and Occult amalgamated into a spheroid of absolute devastation, uprooting in the looming distance with its murmurs extending out for the mile proximity.

Even the skies seemed to transcend the spectrum for a blanched sanguine in reverence to the mauve explosion afar. The rapturous commotion came to a cease, the dome animated in its size, slowly deteriorating with the passing moments...

And soon... Silence...
What would follow, was only the a slow mongering cloud of dust to engulf at those without means to evade nor disuade its trajectory. He could be ignored, for the source behind it...

There could be many questions as to what one had just witnessed... But one thing was certain...It was no doubt the works of a potent magi...

Should one badger themself to investigate, they'd bare witness to remnants of cargo scuttered upon littered soil. Spare appendages, shredded from bodies- Likely torn away upon the descend of the Depravity bomb, of sorts. The corrupted essence of the conjurer radiated the scene, pervading every instance found within this dust, soon to eclipse into a lilac fog... This, was the mouth of the crater, should one have ventured that far.

Beyond that point?
Bodies... Some living...
Remains of a carriages...
Even equine, dropped to the ground, cringing in their pained neighs.

Whatever did this... Wasn't gone...
The presence in the air, burdened all within even now. Somewhere... But where?
(Exovaryn "Voss" Haruke)

Small piles of wood shavings were beginning to gather on the little mat Kafsel had for himself. He noticed them, making note to make sure that none would remain in the cloth once he folded it back up. However, he didn't get the chance, as all the shavings blew away with a sudden gust of wind. At the same time, the sound of the land being ripped from ground very quickly filled the area, and Kafsel sat up at once. Surely, there was a dragon in the vicinity!

Then, the skies darkened, and then Kafsel felt a familiar presence. The occultic aura was a very recognizeable one. Kafsel's fears quickly rose, as there was no dragon. It must've been a Kaor Yokai. Kraus have mercy on poor Kafsel's soul.

With shaking legs, Kafsel tentatively peered around the face of the cliff. Instead of seeing any type of daemonic monstronsity, all Kafsel's eyes could find was a crater, with the land around it in a strange sight of serene chaos.

"... Hello?" Kafsel called out.
(Kafsel)

As one ventured through the outlandish scene, they'd be met with a particular man within, croaking out for Kafsel- reaching up for his assistance in his crippled state. The blast zone had ridden him of his legs, forcefully amputating him from any remote hope of walking again. He had no legs. Only the sanguinous stain of his vessel daubing the amber blades of nature beneath, just below the neather region.

He was muttering something, croaking out incoherently in efforts that one could assume would draw the youth nearer.. Closer, to hear what tales this expiring man had to offer the child.

"R-... Ruuun... He moaned, sapphire hues plagued with forlornity.
"It didn't leave." He reassured. "It's... S- Still her-"

A slender digit skimmered past Kafsel's visage, penetrating the nape of the unsuspecting victim, collapsing the esophagus instantaneously via the prod of the onyx barb. A serpent of the abyss, as black as void itself, irradiating the very same malign essence that suffocated the general region- this lavender smog.

One could scamper from the tendril, avoiding its frigid touch as it lifted its prey up for the skies, hanging him through the muscular and skeletal tissue of the human body, whilst siphoning the very mana from the figure. Skin wrinkled, breath eased and vermillion illuminated the crevices of one's absorbed form.

" It seems I've missed one." A voice called out, the centre of this chaos: Exovaryn, an airborne Harukean harboring the tendrils of Lyperion Utovex, a symbiote that demanded of him to consume- plaguing him with the urge to grow, to evolve... Much like his predecessors.
"Don't worry... This will be qui-" A bolt struck upon his right side, piercing his right shoulder and forcing a sway in his levitation in reverence.

A strike of such calibur was rewarded only a side-glance over to the perpetrator: A brazen mercenary that had managed to survive the initial blast...
With a broken line of sight from the teen, he was allotted the opportunity to flee from one's presence without being hunted down immediately. All at the cost of another man's life...

"Heroes... Wannabe heroes, everywhere. When will mankind, learn the difference." He brought rise to his left arm, only to callously jerk the arrow from his flesh, wincing slightly upon its removal.
"... There is no chance in winning for you."
The projectile was spun betwixt fingers by the shaft and redirected akin to a dart to the archer, prepared to utilize gravity magics to launch the bolt back for a lethal blow....

"... Good bye... Valmasian...."
(Exovaryn "Voss" Haruke)

The scene of carnage was magnified further by the entrance of a new presence. Howling winds scraping the plains grew muted, as if pushed aside or heard from a great distance. Light dimmed, as if it too had decided to flee. Earth shook, a second source echoing that of the Harukean - but where the latter was the feeling of the world being pulled apart by the weight of magic the former rumbled from deep inside the mantle. Cracked earth split, and in places steam jetted into the sky.

They were in the valley between two craters, land tainted from the madness of falling comets. In most places the landscape had been blasted into nothing but a wasteland of craggy rocks, but where it had not perversions of natural order had arisen. Grass had turn a luminescent blue, proving illumination where otherwise there would be none — though it was arguable if the eerie lights put anyone at ease. Especially once you considered the signs of slaughter that marked the land; the scattered bodies, the ruined transportation, animals whinnying in fear and pain.

Truly, this place was a kind of hell, and poor Kafsel had had the misfortune of catching a glimpse of it.

*CLICK* *CLICK*

Across the rock hard barren earth, over the din of wind and earth shaking, the sounds of metallic tapping could be heard. Talons pressing into the hard stone and dirt, snapping as they brushed the land. Amalgam the Faceless had arrived, its featureless mask hiding its gaze from the world around it. Even in the dim light the beast's crown seemed illuminated, light reflecting off its horns as if they were a polished crown. The clicking of chains rattled on the air as its armoured greaves slide past one another in smooth, even motions. A tattered leather base etched with strange runes flowed in the breeze, while a long tail dusted behind it.

There was no mistaking the kaor, regardless of its relatively 'small' size at twelve feet, the inhuman features, the four cruel claws, and the heavy weight of its occult aura stifling the air like a cruel miasma — this was a demon through and through. The poor sixteen year old had a monster on both sides of him, remorseless creatures who preyed on hapless mortals. How would he get out of this?

Fortunately, both the great horrors were disinterested in a meagre teenager — not when the other was afield.

Malevolence radiated from the demon lord as it crested the edge of one crater, gazing down at the destruction. For a moment there was silence on the air — the remaining mercenary's bravado fading as not only did Exovaryn dismiss his heroic last stand with the same casual contempt you'd reserve for throwing a water balloon at a tank, but now a kaor had entered the fray. But the silence ended suddenly and sharply, the scraping sound of telepathy ripping across the minds of those present. While certainly nothing a master occultist couldn't handle, for men who hadn't had the displeasure of suffering the invasion of the mind by a yokai it was pure hell. The wannabe hero clutched his ears in pain, though such an act offered no solace from the soundless noise.

It came like a tidal wave — a thousand voices screaming, sobbing, yelling, begging to be heard; yet none could be distinguished over the sheer multitude. None save one — a voice defined not by emotions or expression or inflection, but by their absence. There was no mirth, for that would require feeling, there was no hate, for that would require intent. It was a voice that could only exist in the landscape of thought, the platonic ideal of communication, the purest form of telepathy.

"Such a work of beauty, and to think I had thought you mortals had lost the touch for darkness."
(Amalgam)

The cacophonous symphony of the Occult had pried his attention from his prey, for the moment. It was... A marvel of an interjection: Intervention of one amongst the most Unholy. The mere co-existence of these monsters within such close proximity dyed the grasses. The collaboration of Gravity and Occult weighed down at the very scenery he hovered within, combating the fellow transmundanic force that shredded the very vitality of grasses and weakened forces about.

An adept Occultist, perhaps.. Though, far from a master. This was naught but the amalgamation of dozens, if not hundreds of lifeforms thus far. Their souls: Relinquished, but their bodies a part of this Harukean. Their cognitive prowess, their flesh, their mana- None of it was alien to him... He was all that he had consumed, overwhelming it all with his image.

Blackened sclera reflected the image of the daemonic monstrosity, trailing its every sway, holding back his rhetoric to condescend just yet. This Yokai, wasn't like the last he had encountered. It did not contradict his presumption of heightened cognitive capabilities with inane perception of Humanity, from a glance. He seemed to have appreciated the Dark Arts, as it should...

The masterpiece fueled by an artist embued with the hatred of those judged as inferior... Though, the spectator made a critical flaw in its assumption. The Occult bent to the volition of the Harukean, manifesting a badgering static that'd mock Mega-Class Yokai tier telepathy-- Truly imperfected, flawed... But a step beyond the common 'man'. In juxtaposition, the discomfort enforced through the reply was miniscule, bearable to even the most vulnerable.

Regardless of the telepathic imitation, lips still moved in unity to bolster volume.
" Do not mistake a God amongst these mortal Valmasian men, for a mortal." The voice rung, complemented with the hazel outlining of his blank cornea glaring back. Unmastered, perhaps... But raw power was his excuse, the exception that allowed him to surpass the rest.

(Exovaryn "Voss" Haruke)

The was a cacophonous sound, rolling thunder dancing across the mind. It was laughter — not just laughter but all forms of it. A sailor guffawing over a bawdy joke with his tavern mates, the light giggles of children playing in forest, the mad cackling of a woman ripping out the entrails of her lover, the wailing despair of a man so broken he couldn't help but laugh, it was all of them at once. But even with such a din there was a press on his mind, imprinting an emotion on him: amusement, interest, excitement.

"A rare accomplishment mortal, only once have I/we seen one accomplish even the bare minimum of our powers, and that one I/we had to break first." Metal feet clacked across the earth, armour and flesh indistinguishable as the beast moved. The mercenary, brave he might have been, had been reduced to a weeping puddle between the two, his mind even less suited to handle the noise than the Harukean.

Dark claws flexed at its side, long knife-like fingers opening and closing repeatedly. The voice returned now, though this time it was different. The legion wailed once more, but the leader had shifted — where once it had been but the purest form of communication now the voice was that of a young girl. There were undefinable hints, familiarity as if plucked from some distant memory, yet ultimately whatever feelings it inspired inevitably slipped the tongue. It was high and tinkling, like wind-chime ringing on the air, filled with youthful exuberance. "But yet, even for that I still see but a mortal standing before me. To be infinitely more skilled than dirt does not a God make, even worms can devour that which is lesser."

It was mocking in the cruel way only children could, wrapping up infuriating smugness and naivete into a single tone. In the landscape of the mind, what did such things mean? The beast had chosen this voice, chosen to needle his thoughts with stinging patronization and belittlement. Casually, the long black sword hanging from the demon's side slide out of its scabbard, and then its opposite did the same. Two hands loosely gripped the blade: a clear challenge.

"But shall we see if you are truly divine? I have tasted the blood of half-angel spawn, perhaps we shall see if yours too matches the flavour?"
(Amalgam)

 An animalistic growl was aroused from one's gullet, albeit one's figure went lax midst the burning ethernal pyre of materialized malevolence, creases in armor festered with the lymphatic ebonic sludge of one's composition. Miniature digits swayed out ravenously for a taste of flesh that'd never take upon their reach. These mutations were excess, an abundance of mana conjured them, further transforming this humanoid into something greater than those whom dubbed him claimed.

From the spinal region of one's physique protruded the appendages of the infamous void. The serpents of Darkness have awoken from their interim slumber, arching about one's back to hover over their shoulders and curve about the abdomen- Barbs directed for the faceless Amalgam.

So similar they proved, albeit, they'd both sought for supremacy. It was a duel destined to occur-- Should one wish to enforce their might, there would have to be conflict. It's how Humanity worked...

And given Yokai thrived off both their own ilk and Humanity that sodden the land with their nigh overpopulation? It was only right to assume one would adapt to their mentality, no matter how warped nor amalgamated they'd prove to be.

Crimson static gattled the frame of the idling Voss, prelude to auto-dissection of his vessel, welling open pockets in his flesh to liberate the ensnared Wisps of mana, to which he sustained with. They prevented him from outright rampaging mindlessly amongst the populations of Tilandre. When so many organics harbinging their own circuits passed by, it was only fate that he'd attempt to sate his ambitious cravings.

The relationship betwixt their entities, mutual...
Exovaryn would siphon at their presence via Lyperion Utovex to satiate his hunger and enable his regeneration to miniscule degrees when no other fuel source was within reach. In return, he'd feed them with the Cosmic energies he'd siphon from his star above, keeping them alive as they kept him restrained... Until now.

The navy flavored iotas, fluttered from an imprisoning body of flesh of sludge, now allowed to fly freely amongst the stygian smog. Their mana, was tainted- emitting raw Depravity for Exovaryn to feed off of.

In total, six of them flown about, taking cover behind the elongating extensions to the Harukean's form...

Spiritual pressure was enacted on the realm abroad, transmuted to raw gravitational force. Perception found itself plagued to fabricated strained lines of the world about it, muddied under the frantic shudder of the earth beneath them via immense tension.

"Just as the hundreds of humans, and magi that have fallen over the years... You too, will realize the power of the Harukean Race..."
(Exovaryn "Voss" Haruke)

The laughter returned, though this time solely in the voice of the girl. High bells clacking as wind blew through them, tinkling in the air delicately. A completely strange tone, mismatched to the beast it supposedly was coming from. "I knew I recognized that smell on you, the touch of exotic mana. A flavour I only savoured once — perhaps it was your child whose corpse I drained?" The voice pressed on his mind, the feeling of familiarity once more being dragged up to his mind — though whether it was by his choice or the demon's forcible actions was debatable. The only thing for sure was the fact it was goading him on, showing not a glimmer of fear on its featureless mask of his spike in depravity and demonstration of secret arts.

Air chilled, the howling winds of the plain going completely silent. For a moment nothing seemed to happen, but then — it was impossible not to see. A creeping grey wave radiated forth from the beast, like an icy kiss brushing across the land. What light there was shifted, the plain becoming monochrome. Even the luminescent blue mutant grass dulled until it was a lifeless colour. All about them the world seemed to slow until death, all motion ending.

And then out of the corner of their eyes, shadows shifted. Dark two dimensional shapes slid across the plains, impossibly flat darkness writhing across the ground. A whimper arose from the mercenary — only for him to let out a blood curdling scream as his bones snapped and blood spat up into the air. One of the shapes and risen about and clamped down around him like iron jaws, reducing him to nothing but gore. As if that were the cue every shadow chattered, rattling like a hundred bones raking across each other.

Claws ripped out of the inky black surfaces, malformed hands and maws pulling themselves from the pure darkness. Bodies that had only the general shapes of creatures, demonic beings of occult animation with piercing red eyes. Artificial yokai, shadows, or something worse? Whatever it was they constantly rose from every dark corner, as if the very world had risen up to consume the Harukean.

A wave of occult pressure flared from the kaor — the weight of it befitting a monster of its class. Untamed, raw, and a succulent meal for a mana vampire. Earth rumbled as the demon lord shifted its weight, ground groaning in sympathy as it pointed one of its blades at Exovaryn.
(Amalgam)

The earth quaked at the clash of pernicious monstrosities, waging war betwixt their persons that ultimately punish the very scape they'd battle upon. The survivors of Exovaryn's initial arrival and Amalgam's own would be forced to scramble from the descending pellets of concentrated mana showering down upon them.

Miniature domes erupted from the soils in clustered, opaque in their spawning, chewing up at their contents in their explosive wake. Fellow Yokai ilk had doggedly pursued a Harukean in flight, only to taunt their approach, drawing them further away from their summoner.

" I grow tired of this..." A grave vocalization sounded off from the aerodynamic silhuoette, weaving abroad the launched hexes of the Occult, until his flight would trail straight up.
Now, he could see all from a bird's eye view, daring to fly far ot of reach of the general proximity of hostilies alike.

Hands clasped together, palms flat against one another in prelude to the consolidation of the preternatural: Raw antipathy, conjoined with malice for one's defiance to his claim to almighty power had developed enough to generate globular manifestation of the raw Occult.

A heliotropean sphere forged betwixt his molding fingers, plagued with impurities. The molten facade of its form emanated with the infinitesimal imperfections of essence scuttling about his amalgamation of symbolically bound mana.

Obsidian strokes of fulmination danced about its exterior, prodding at it- engendered only due to the magical friction induced upon the very atmosphere abroad: The face of an abomination against Kraus sickened even the most resilient lain close with the unrefined abundance of Depravity.

The very presence of this craft, gleaming of traces of forcefully implemented cosmogonic energies, bleeding of an overflow through the transmutation from mauve to crimson- replicating a dying sun within his grasp. The construct of one's gathered power had amassed beyond simple palm's diameter with development mised...

Arms were risen to house the gargantuan fabrication above his person, soon, hyper-compressing it via the gravitational arcane, reduce it to naught but the equivalence of a commoner prone to the fetal position. Such concentration of power sawed at the unprotected ears, damning those susceptible to the auditory spectrum with its heinous hiss, projecting waves of malign reverberations throughout the scene.

" This.... This will silence you and your fellow kin alike... If it can vaporize the foolish and inane, idiotic to face my power, I'm more than certain that it will be enough to rid your mind of the asinine fallacy of vanquishing me in battle." He was scathed, fatigued- Contested to such an extent that he could tremble in his fury... But he wouldn't allow it.
This one contested his Might...
This one contested his Authority...
This one contested his Dominance...

And as a fellow creature destined to consume, he felt compelled to erase any potential competitor that may challenge his intent. The last thing he needed, was to become the hunted... To be consumed, as he had consumed...
"Now... HAVE IT!" He heaved the condensed orb forth, launching it for the Kaor, awaiting its violent combustion on contact with a sly grin etched upon his visage.
(Exovaryn "Voss" Haruke)

Preternatural speed answered the Harukean's attack — for to be any slower meant death. Where once stood Amalgam only barren earth lay to take the brunt of the ball. Of course, a direct impact was not by any means a necessity for the attack, occult energy, cosmic shapes, depraved power all exploded upon the sudden impact, violently releasing both their energies and blasting a third crater into their battle-scape. The shadows gathered nearby simply ceased to be, melting away like darkness in a bright light.

One moment they were there, the next they were gone.

But as fast as the kaor was it could not so easily escape the radius of the explosion. Energy rippled across its form, occult energy sapping the bonds that held its form together, depravity warping its frame, and then even high speed shard of rock and dirt tore into it like a thousand bullets. Gaping holes were left in its frame but — instead of the glorious sight of blood instead Exovaryn was greeted by the sight of dark smoke rising from each injury. Dark worm-like things undulated underneath the skin, briefly exposed, and a dark red shape pulsed behind its chest. Where blasted, the body seemed to be broken like a plaster shell.

It didn't last.

Wounds sealed themselves, the vitality of a yokai making short work of what would otherwise be attention worthy damage. Black energy crackled across its form, writhing shadows sliding up and down its body to fill every crack formed. In moments the creature's form was rebuilt as if nothing had happened to it, visibly at any rate. Contrary to what one would think of a yokai, the demon seemed to simply be even more thrilled at this turn of events. The piercing psychic voice rippled through the air, entering the mind of its foe unwanted and unbiden.

"Excellent, EXCELLENT!" it echoed, the legions moaning behind a new conductor — an echoing voice that even itself seemed to be comprised of more than one. Two, or maybe three spoke in unison, together producing something that resembled a classical demonic tone but individually sounding like a triad of human business men and women. "I have fought many of your kind before, but none have had your talent!" A compliment, or a snide remark, no help was offered to parse the alien timbre slipping through the Haruekean's mind.

The earth split further, geysers of steam jetting into the sky and the craters and barren earth writhed in sympathy to their battle. Incidentally making even more shadows from which even more of the dark monsters spawned. The sky seemed pitch black now, the sheer force of their occult powers combined with whatever monstrous thing the kaor was performing blotting out the sun locally and leaving only wisps of monochrome clouds in the sky.

Dark claws waved in the air, and the ground burst into pillars of stone — forming a maze-like passage both to shield and funnel Exovaryn's path. Tendrils of darkness ripped forth from the cracks, dancing to the orchestral-like directions of Amalgam's free hands.
(Amalgam)

An onslaught of attacks pressed on the Harukean. Every patch of darkness held some horror, whether it be a monster forming from the sheer concentration of occult energy or a black tendril of mana tearing at him. Pale reflections of Exovaryn's own: where his drained the very magic from the body these merely rended flesh. Shaking pillars rose and fell, earthquakes shaking the land while what survivors from the occultist's initial spree scrambled lest they be crushed or consumed by the battle.

A hand waved, a wall rising to block his movement, and another gestured. If he had once thought Amalgam's voice grating now he would find it a disgusting blight on his mind. The Harukean had his depravity enhanced powers... and so did the kaor. Suddenly the monochrome world rippled red, the surface of the earth transforming into a nightmare of flesh and bone. Corrupt magic oozed from the demon — though instead of it naturally flowing through the beast it instead seemed to rise from hundreds of invisible points across the surface of its body.

"If you are a God, should you not see what your worshippers pray for in their final moments?" Few remember than darkness is not just an element, but a state of mind. Spells woven are as much about devouring the mental as the physical, that while the most basic spell an occultist can have is but a concentration of dark magic it is also an attack on the mind. And through such things crueller pain can be channelled, why simply hurt the mind when you can make it hurt itself?

It was sheer psychic terror, the moment before death of a thousand beings all forcibly replayed in his mind at once — fragments of memory stolen, recorded, and housed within Amalgam's body. Should it be any surprise that this was its chose of attack, to curse the occultist with the horrors he did not normally feel? This was not a simple injection of thought, but a sculpted telepathic twist of the knife taking advantage of one of the places a human rarely defended. Occult magic mingled with depraved power, made not to simply observe but force him to relive.

Over and over again, the pain of dying a thousand death cut his mind. Such a thing a magi — especially one who knew how to handle telepathy — could resist, but the only difference between imaginary wounds and physical was whether a mark was left afterwards. And when the moment passed, the world snapped back. Red light became monochrome grey again, the flesh and bone landscape returned to the blasted grey. The mirthful taunt of the demon arose again, speaking in that distantly familiar girl's voice. "Did you enjoy your taste of divinity mortal?"
(Amalgam)

Amongst the grounds he flown over, he could spot the once-lost victims below, swallowed up by the shattered earth to be engulfed by the combination of the Kaor's magic and collateral damage mised upon the earth below-- An agitating realization that'd eventually turn eyes back over to Amalgam in the close distance. Perception was beginning to wither, cascading to a simplistic monochrome, strained of its details... Though, further involuntary procrastination to one's endeavors, the gory maroon of the fallen would color the blank of his altered perception.

He had to make distance-- Close proximity strengthened the bond betwixt their entities, which enforced the Occultic influence the Kaor could mise over the resilient Harukean's mentality.

An aerodynamic strafe for the north would be barricaded off by an uprising barrier of earth, obstructing his means of evasion at the Kaor's volition. Albeit, it would not bring cease to one's venture; digressing eyes sought for the east instead, attempting to simply fly around the wall, only to be intercepted once more by a climbing earthen impediment.

As he rose, he only pivoted his trajectory, attempting to outpace its ascent for the vast skies overhead.. Though, with the coming of a third front, the trio would only curl in to seal together to forge a serrated hemisphere's interior.
He was forced to halt entirely, pivoting around to face the Kaor that had casted this incomplete prism: He was cornered.

Alas, Amalgam had his place to speak- center-stage now. Exovaryn was forced place amongst this audience, only to find accompaniment via the iron maws the malleable underlings to this Truer Seer of Darkness.
The dialogue he gave-- This question mean't for him, was followed up with an attack unlike anything he had encountered thus far. It was one mean't for him, something well deserved for a monster such as himself. The damnation of tens, hundreds.... Thousands...
He could resist that mental afflictions laced with the Occult thanks to the many consumed, having strengthened him through their flesh, their matter, their mana: It was all him. He could feel their suffering in collaboration to those fallen to the Kaor, invoking memories of the past.

The telepathic prods to one's mind, had forced him to the ground; dropped to his knees, clutching viciously at his cranium with a winced visage. He could hear their screams raking into his mind, singing into his blackened soul.
He was a monster...
It was a realization that came only with the operations of a fellow abnormality warping his mentality, bringing him to forcefully embrace those whom he had forced through the wrath of his prejudice.

He deserved this....
For every man, woman and child he impaled with Lyperion Utovex!
He felt the penetration of his own serpents boring through his flesh, leaving him petrified in pain. Words wouldn't past his gaping maws, choked on this anguish...
For every man, woman and child vaporized in his travels!
He could feel the incendiary sensations reverberating through his flesh, tunneling for the spirit within.

This telepathic connection was far stronger than his grasp on the arcane, leaving its influence strictly one-way. He couldn't reverse this, no matter how much raw power was mised into the endeavor, for raw power could easily be contested by absolute mastery backed with sufficiency.

The claws of Yokai shredding at his flesh in an eternal endeavor left only the exclamation of his suffering to taint the atmosphere, echoing for the distant horizon. The teeth of his own chomped down upon the flesh of those deemed fodder- Cattle...
This was only penance for his deeds. It'd come, sooner or later-- And through one of mastery in the stygian arts, it'd be bestowed.

This was deliverance.
The singe of Depravity turned on him left him to go wan, arms dropped to his sides and form limp...
This test of endurance had been completed. The daemonic entity had proven effective enough, superior in a bout betwixt the titans...

. . . No. . .

This wasn't right... Why him...
Why should he care?

The cuts upon his figure were harassed by crimson static as the Lyperion symbiote took its effect, animating flesh to slowly seal itself, mending open gashes in a re-zip of skin over exposed flesh. Where skin was stripped, it was manifested once more through the consumption of mana: Regeneration ensued, slowly...

They suffered... But so did he?
They were the reason he became this.
It all happened for a reason; Lyperias: The Goddess of Fate wouldn't have it any other way, would she?

They had no right to dare exercising equivalence.
He was beyond them, above them... Superior in every way...
One that did not suffer for them, but because of them.
He was no ward nor protector of Humanity, but its Bane.

He was bestowed with Lyperion Utovex... But for what? What was this power for? To destroy? To ascend? To obtain Divinity?
Eyes opened to find Amalgam before the Harukean, his figure slowly rising back up to his feet in defiance to his battered form and mentality.

No...
There was a greater purpose. This power... Was a gift to renew this plagued world, to purge it of its Sin, by enveloping it.. By becoming the sole harbinger of it...
By becoming its prime evil, he would destroy what he deemed of it truly corrupt...
It was clear to him now...

Lyperion Utovex... Or in Valmasian tongue: Creation Via Destruction...
For so long, the title proved confusing to those distant to their roots.
With so few wielders of the capability, it was justified. However, no more would Exovaryn be amongst these few.

" You've made the grave mistake, Yokai..." He spoke through grave tone, clearly brought to a threshold. To lead way to creation of a better world.. He had to purge the old one... To become the old one... To -consume- the old one..
" Your perception of Divinity is flawed... Allow me to show you. "
He was to grow off of the flawed, to ascend off of those that ruined his image of a perfect world... To create, one worthy of his Divinity.

An roar from his gullet in junction with lesser yokai semblance to conjoined screeches scoured off for the horizon, quaking the earth in reverence to the mass of mana bombarding the immediate scene. A pristine fusion of his magics shielded him, beaming for the heavens above to shatter his pseudo-prism.

A pillar stroked the clouds, violating their peace and tainting their hue to a distinct lilac- staining them with the harukean discharged of his anatomy. The sun's light bestowed upon the scene was revoked by the pooling of the atmosphere above as he pushed his powers even further beyond.
From the crevices of his armor, gurgled the serous substance of Lyperion Utovex, losing its cohesive qualities to overcharge the magi within its wake, displayed through the corrupted Occultic aura, growing pungent with syrupy essence- Thick.. Concentrated... Lethal.
One's vocalization bared baritone unlike any speech uttered before in this encounter...

He had changed...
... Or was he holding back all this time?
" . . . This world will be renewed by my hand... Every sacrifice to me, brings this world even closer to perfection. Through such, I will prove my Divinity-- You will be the first eyewitness to my accumulated power."
(Exovaryn "Voss" Haruke)

The image of Exovaryn abruptly transcended into an animated stream of depraved cosmogonic essence, blasting himself into the abdomen of the creature to force it back few steps. He paused, re-materializing his image with a risen head geared to face the faceless own of Amalgam. The expression of his face was void of excitement as it may have been previously implied.

He was tested, absolutely pressured into a state where he was forced to use his full power once more. He glared... Saying naught, only awaiting for attempt at his figure once more. One, that even at the slightest cringe would be answered with a coercive shock-wave of extraordinary telekinetic proportions to further dissuade one's balance.

" I've grown sick..." He rushed forth to cast a driving fist for the Kaor's visage, combining the triad of his artistry to buffet him back.
"And tired..." Another blur of his figure, bestowing another blow upon the beast's face.
"Of these impudent obstructions getting in my way!"

A blast of the Occult was wrought for one's chest, only to have fallen short to an intercepting underling to the Kaor's volition.
"You are all the same.. Yokai, Human. Sub-races and all... You are all Valmasian-- You all plague this land with your morals. Your false justices. Your sins. Your false Gods. Where those whom fought to change this land had failed, I shall not... It's time for Valmasia to learn of a new Seer."

"The Seer of Fate."

Another underling was captured by one of the stray tendrils of Lyperion Utovex, impaled by its barb and sunken down its girth. Skin shriveled, flesh withered, breath left its body and finally... Nothing but skeletal remains, save for the tightly wrapped skin, nails and teeth. He had rejuvenated his form slightly with this boost in power...

Hands rested at his sides, spawning the orbs of his favored elements centered within his limp clutches. Fingers grew tense, collapsing upon the amassing spheres before their cultivation to maturity was at-hand, only challenging their growth as portrayed by the tremble of his fingers ensnaring his manifestations, pried open in their wake. They were hardly grown, but condensed in comparison to what they once were.

" Now... Show me, what you're capable of Kaor... Give me a reason not to consume you too." He ordered, bringing rise to his right hand, only to heave at the generated energy, hurling a blast of melded Cosmogonic Occultism, bound together through the gravitational arcane.
...Soon followed by another...
...And another..
And soon, a flurry down pouring upon the Kaor, shattering at the nearby plateauing mesas and boring into the grounds.
(Exovaryn "Voss" Haruke)

The unrelenting fury of Lyperion Utovex tore into the demon. Even the false goddess had not matched such strength, such excess, such brutality. Flesh shattered, pieces flying wherever as the transformed man literally cannonballed into its chest. A step back. Another fist met its 'face', the mask cracking; the smooth featureless obsidian breaking along where the temple would be. Half of its covering sagged, the horns tilting with it and breaking the façade of a crown. Finally the beast's face was revealed as...

Nothing. An equally blank abyss was revealed as the mask sagged, just a hole leading into the core of the monster down its 'throat'. Acrid black smoke rose from every injury, the sheer extent overwhelming even the impressive vitality of a yokai. Slowly the pieces worked to fix themselves and the beast brought the full might of its abilities to bear against its foe. Twin blades of dark steel flashed in the darkened plain, every motion just barely deflecting a lethal strike. Its two upper arms, free from holding weapons, traced spells on the air desperately. Pillars rose from the earth merely to be shattered, horrific nightmares assailed Exovaryn only for him to brush them off, monstrous beasts rose from both the earth and shadow only to be annihilated in seconds.

Baal'Sulam, Amalgam the Faceless was a kaor. The peak of yokai evolution, the height of power, unassailable short of bringing an army to fight it. It had fought many, killed many, carved itself to the top of the totem pole — and then even exceeded what its kind was capable of through knowledge. In the natural world, nothing surpassed it.

This was unnatural.

Even the mysteries of the Harukeans had been nothing before its might, the arrogance of the tiny offshoot of mortals having proven both frail of mind and body in the past. Once it had sought to learn from the handfuls that remained to slake its thirst for knowledge, only to be disgusted by the weakness of the ones it had met. But this... this was different: the occultist had become a demon surpassing even itself, and for the first time in a long time the kaor felt certain emotions. Respect, and fear twined together. No yokai can ignore displays of power so grand and not feel envy and longing. No yokai can experience such power turned on them and not feel primal survival urges burn at the back of its throat.

Discordant wails echoed across the invisible lines of telepathy. "If others of your kind had put up this much of a fight, then perhaps I would not have killed them. I care not for justice or more of your rantings about gods — I have a destiny to break Eternia and an arrogant, short sighted mortal has no place in it." Then, in either the most foolish or most brazen act, the demon tore into his mind with a voice he could not forget.

The smooth tones of Lyperias, the False Goddess, the vampire who had taken his faith and twisted it.

"False Gods? How would you know when you couldn't even see one destroy everything you fought for? You are but a child granted more power than he deserves!" A desperate ploy to twist at any weakspot, but when life is on the line any yokai would do the same.
(Amalgam)

Whether the words had the desired effect, or whether it was simply the vast alien mind of the kaor working overtime, something changed. The demon's body was still a wreck, smoke blooming from every hole, broken in ways that should have left a normal man a corpse. Yet as the Harukean closed for the kill, the yokai sprung its trap. Out from every hole, every blasted crack of its body, long ropey wormed lashed out. Dark as the shadows that coated the land, each ending in what could only be described as a lampry's mouth, glowing with red eyes. They seemed to be endless in length, lashing out at dozens of feet away, the momentum of the occultist carrying him into the jaws.

Each latched on like a leech — and it became clear what the intent here was. Life ebbed, mana twisted, and the process Malpercians called Sacrifice, and what yokai simply called eating, began. While it had him in its grasp, the limbs slammed him with a strength that could only be called demonic. Where he had turned the entire landscape into a shattered wasteland with an overpowering blast of magic the kaor seemed content to repeat his feat using his body as the medium. Earth broke, the rumbling earthquakes shaking the plains for miles around. What was left of the mesas crumbled as the two struggled, Amalgam trying desperately to beat him unconscious so it could finish feeding off him.

"You are a Seer of nothing!" Lyperias's voice echoed in his mind. "A failure as a leader, a failure as a man, you are unfit for the gifts given to you, unfit to even touch the ground I walk on!" The voice burned into every pore of his mind, the kaor pouring itself into every inflection, every emotion, mimicry so perfect it had to be getting cues from something.

Of course, even for all its brute strength and mind searing powers, the will of Exovaryn was not so easily broken. The raw power flowing through him, his mastery of the secrets only Harukeans knew, seared Amalgam's feeders. The worms each squealed in pain as whatever empowered him turned out to be too spicy for them to simply devour wholesale. The kaor stumbled back, reeling from the sudden disconnection, before recovering.

Occult energy flooded the land, the weight of it flattening the land around them. There was no more terrain, just a scorched wasteland. But with that burst of energy the smoking wounds finally began to seal themselves... but all too slowly. The demon's stamina was finally waning, the constant forced regeneration leaving it drained.

This was it.
(Amalgam)

The vocalization was so clear...
The memory seared itself into his mind. He remembered...
It was the voice of the acclaimed Deity. The very woman he deemed a plausible candidate. No, this was not the voice of his deity- but a farce! That embodiment had abandoned him and his people long ago, and he knew it well. Where was she upon his return? Where was the army he built up? Where were they now?

Dead... All of them...
The voice was right. It all happened under his nose, behind his back- all whilst he failed to pay attention. The feigned fondness for his people... For him, as her priest...
It was all a lie.

How did this Kaor know? What was it doing with this information? What was it going on about when it constantly referred to him as though having met more of his kind. Just who was this? Where had he met this beast before? And why did it come up now of all times? Of all places...

He slowed, body hardly mobile whilst mind gone numb- himself falling victim to what would follow, despite his continued assault. He was... Off; Progression of the bout would only provide the Kaor with an absolute advantage, toppling the Harukean over with his every strained strike, until he was outright winded. A final blow intervened by solidified entozoons of the cabalistic field, latching unto his flesh, heaving him away where he'd be forced into incapacitation.

The very lifeforce drained from his person...
He was being leeched, permeance ebbed away.
Whilst within this vampiric grasp, he was risen, only to meet the earth once more in a malignant slam, leaving his person carved into the soil.

The terrain crumbled in his embrace, withering him of his reserve. Amalgam seemed intent on tiring out the Harukean, forcing him to a threshold- Attempting to render him unconscious... Willpower was tested, prodded, bashed upon-- The primary focus of the Yokai's endeavors...

A very productive method thus far... Althroughout, it had left one challenged to see beyond that of his facade. This encounter had him question his antics, himself and his conviction...
For years now, Lyperion Utovex had been knowledge to him, but not as to its purpose within his possession. With such in his possession, perhaps he could bring change...

Perhaps, fate destined him victory for this bout... Though, no one could truly predict Destiny... But as one whom would embody inevitiability, he felt determined...

He was released, allowed to fall for the soils and plop down on hands and knees, panting heavily. He was drained, too much to fight in his current condition. As of now, he was as good as- No... There was... One more trump card. The Depraved Wisps that fluttered about his figure now, having descended from above to avoid strikes against their vulnerable forms hung low, close to the Occultist that followed their images with his gaze.

He had an idea...
Lips parted and cheeks tore away to allow his maws to gape further!
Telekinetic influx pried at all six of the entities, vacuuming them all down his gullet in succession without second thought- sealing his maws to initiate the regeneration process shortly after.
He had... Consumed his enslaved pets, without second thought on the matter. The beings of pure mana were soon to be ingested into the Harukean's system, empowering him with the excess energy to sustain just a while longer.

With this minor bolster in essence, he could stand upright to face Amalgam directly, slowly regenerating his own open wounds in reverence
" You will regret the words you speak, fool."
(Exovaryn "Voss" Haruke)
The demon's body finished reforming by the time the Harukean had recovered his senses.  Its obsidian mask had sealed back together in a way no metal or stone should — organically.  Horrific that it could recover from those wounds so quickly, but it was also a chance for him.  The kaor couldn't recover forever, and this fight had already dragged on long enough.  The grey sky over the newly formed wasteland cracked, the world itself seeming to signal that the end was here.

Blades twirled in its hands as it spoke, again mocking him in the voice of the one he once called goddess.  "There is nothing to regret worm," it said, the twisting tones of the vampiress using her practically trademark disdain.  "You have fallen prey to the sin of all mortals, blinded by your passions, letting what little you've accomplished blow away into the dust.  You are but a slave to the design, nothing but a cog in the wheel of destiny.  To live and die the same meaningless life and death of all your kind, ignorant of your potential."

Even without a face one could feel the impression of an expression, the emotions associated with when Lumina once smiled upon him forcible dragged into his thoughts.  "Consider this my last gift to you my dear Chosen One, the chance to be free from all your suffering."  The kaor advanced, blades ready in hand — the freedom it offered was clear.  Death is a kind of release.

The earth let out one more gasp, geysers of steam bursting from the last handful of cracks that could be formed.  No where in a mile was the land unscarred or unravaged from their battle, and all life had been extinguished from the titanic clash.  The mutant flora, the few survivors of the caravan, even the magi child — all were gone or dead.  Devoured by the shadows called by Amalgam, or crushed in the massive blasts of magic.

The face of what many cities would look like after a war without their ancient rune protections in place.
(Amalgam)

Exovaryn nosedived for Amalgam, encased in a translucent gravitational barrier seemingly intent to repeat his previous strike upon Amalgam, something that could be seen clearly from the few dozen meters' distance. Dual wielded blades were parried by unveiled tendrils of the void, clashing into one another, slash by slash, swipe for swipe, lunge for lunge...

Though, both were capable of utilizing their power beyond said threshold. Beyond the distracting parries of Lyperion Utovex, was the stationary figure of the Occultist, arms reached out for Amalgam. " You forget your place!" He exclaimed, bombarding his figure backwards few steps, only to attempt charging to follow up with a comb-

A vertical slam of the Kaor's weaponry, he was was dropped to the earth below... With only the salvo of dust clouding up above his crater, forming a signature mushroom cloud under the sheer pressure imprinted upon the dispersed soil. Soon after, silence ensued, and the vultures of this bout closed in: The Kaor's summoned underlings closed in on this crater, maws and claws ready...

Waiting for the dust to settle for a verdict to Exovaryn's fate...
" Ignorance is a plague that ensnares the minds of the inane. I, am a Harukean... Successor to Eutan Haruke, soon to-become: Lord of Mormegil... And Behemoth of Valmasia. I will consume: The Sinful...
The Plagued...
The... Heroes...

Any and everyone that dares to stand in my way, will be consumed. For I seek to destroy Valmasia... To build it all anew... " He went on, the dust clearing to reveal himself standing upright, swathed in the onyx substance, coating him entirely.
" And now, you will become a part of that future... " He claimed... " Become one with me." The tendrils spiked out as Yokai lunged out for him, barbs penetrating their hides whilst carrying them to the skies above, allowing for momentum, inertia and weight to do the rest of the work.

The vermilion gleam of their contact illustrated the siphoning of raw vitality from their vessels, in multitudes. He didn't seem to budge, but the serpents swayed ecstatically, weaving about the scene, extending their reach for dozens of yards away from their caster, leaving some of their prey suspended far above his likes. The jarring screeches of Mega and Terra class yokai sounded off throughout the air, victimized by Lyperion Utovex. Upon the Kaor and the Harukean, a shower of bone and peels skin rained down them: The unofficial confetti of one's proclaimed victory.

Scouring eyes did not find any other yokai to battle just yet, which left Amalgam and Exovaryn alone for now. " You'll do far more use, as a part of me... " He leaped for the beast's chest, only to find himself betwixt encroaching fringes, swatted outward by his outreached figure, extending his arms out to generate a globular barrier field to hold off the blades seeking one's flesh, emitting an abrupt shockwave to pry away defenses.

"With all of that power, -we- could be invincible..." His left hand was reared back, resonating under the volition of gravitational influence, soon supercharged by cosmogonic occultism imbued to his touch, amplifying the thrust of his arm to attempt punching the recently regenerated mask.

"You, will be a part of my essence- An extension of my form!" He claimed, initiating the protrustions of Lyperion Utovex from his backside to arch over and swiftly prod at the mask as well, attempting to scathe it, only managing to sound off at its shell, to likely crack at it- but naught more. A predicted attempt to rake his person from its face was answered only with another shockwave pulsated from his person, kicking off in succession to go airborne once more.

He needed a different strategy...
The earth was, this Kaor's domain. As long as he was on it... Or near it... He was at a disadvantage. But what if he went up?
A formulated plot was put into ploy instantly, eyes sifting for the heavens above... He needed a means of an end, and -this- was his solution. He needed distance... Such would take time, and with such, any one of inquisitive mentality could eventually decipher one's intent. He did not change his trajectory from a direct vertical flight...

He was preparing for the final blow to this encounter...
(Exovaryn "Voss" Haruke)
Strength had fled the yokai.  For the third time in its long life, it felt the quickening pulse of fear.  Death was at hand, and no matter how well it had wormed its way out of things before this time it seemed fate was certain.  Every fibre of the demon rejected its seeming destiny, yet limbs did not respond while the Harukean lifted it up and clawed at its mask.

In another time, in another place, mocking would have been the demon's answer to his futile grabs.  But all of its alien mind had shunted all processing power to escape.  Feeling returned to its claws slowly — too slowly.  Being devoured by a mortal was a special kind of humiliation, above and beyond mere defeat as well — a disruption of what should have been the proper order; a thought that fuelled what energy remained in the beast.

It felt the unnatural limbs of the mortal caress its mask, a reversal of their positions but moments before.  But instead of a killing blow, the Harukean flew up — preparation for something.  What was irrelevant to the yokai beyond the fact that it gave it a chance to enact a final act of desperation.  The earth rumbled once more, crackling and splitting — right beneath Amalgam.  Exovaryn had correctly identified the monster's domain, and had determined a way to crack its defences, but had forgotten to deny it the chance to shape its mastery.

The hole opened up, a gaping maw in Eternia swallowing the kaor whole — providing a chance to escape if the Harukean didn't act quick enough.  Rapidly the stone closed, the last bit of strength spend turning the rock into a shield between it and the occultist, and thus buying it time to tunnel and escape.  Fleeing like this was hardly dignified but in a life or death moment like this all pretences dropped.

At no point did the kaor speak or address the Harukean — dialogue and taunting were not tools that were going to save it.  All strength was reserved for the last ditch escape.
(Amalgam)

One's ascension for the heights, soon threatened to stroke the clouds. Though, such rise was far from extraordinary in speed. The element his adversary bent was utilized to their advantage, soon churning at the very earth beneath him to engulf at it, sheathing it with rock. Exovaryn's opportunity would be vanquished should he delay further! Though, despite knowledge of this, he continued to ascend- He progressed in his flight- attempting to conceive of a theory to his succeeding action. A dim halcyon enveloped him, illuminating him with the absorbed power of his star: A star that'd only now receive its name.

A paroxysm of sound thundered out for the atmosphere, as a once rising magi, transcended his form into naught but animated fulmination. Cosmogonal intensification of his powers were merely transient releases, albeit would amplify the peak of his capabilities far beyond their former limitations. The consistent hiss of the air shredded asunder in his wake was resounded in compilation to the murmur of nature's retaliated roar.

The atmospheric jet-stream inevitably sung to his ears, wan in volume, though present; eyes narrowing down upon his target from high above. The sight: Earth sealing back over where the Kaor was taking refuge, soon to tunnel away from the scene to escape the risk presented

" You're not getting away. " Exovaryn spoke aloud at reserved volume, silenced by the sheer distance betwixt himself and Amalgam.

This was it.

From such altitude, he summoned what he could from his star, prying at its reserves forcibly to empower his own. As a result, the occultic pyre about his figure concentrated about his flesh; the Harukean symbiote agglomerated with the exterior bound mana encompassing its conjurer, cloaking him in its embrace. Every ounce of power that he could pull together in that instant had pooled to the surface, only to be carpeted by a tightly wrapped cocoon of Lyperion Utovex to prevent its premature discharge.

Metamorphosis from humanoid, to atramentous capsule... And with that, it'd fall...
Soon slowly, but as momentum built, so did the gravitation influx on its mass- Weighing it down further to increment its terminal velocity. Relativity in terms of flight speed was dramatically shifted in comparison to what should have been.

The air screamed under the piercing of a vertical projectile, appeasing aerodynamism only with its acute base, summoning a girdling luminosity of bisque; drawing a slender cut through the skies to cleave into the nigh consolidation of earth. The exceptional display of acceleration conflicted with the shield of one's earthen shell, piercing the surface and tunneling beyond the depths of the Kaor. Upon making its plunge into the earth, it'd be punctured by the resonating energies from within.

A intemperate combustion on the subterranean level illuminated the hole the projectile forged, though sought for those of the same plane. The ground shattered in the wake of an outbound subterrestrial burst of the coalesced energies shattered the rocky undergrowth, gleaming through the dancing fissures for the perilous depths beneath. An earthquake rattled the battlegrounds, soon belching up what matter was once mised betwixt the Kaor and the light.

A pearlescent dome, cased with the swirling finish of mauve in its genesis from the violated crust of Eternia. From afar, debris could be seen scaling its magnificent border: A trifecta of the Harukean's prowess. Alas... Reality crippled to an opaque screen of alabaster, to subside to a desolated scene. A crater that engulfed its forbearances, leaving only a revealed Kaor, and an exhausted Harukean, left to his hands and knees.

Exovaryn had put every portion of his mana into that final blow...
Everything that was left in his vessel... Leaving him starved. He needed reparation... He needed more...
Teeth were grit as he arose once more, to face what he'd suspect to be a fallen Kaor...

"You've proven to be... Quite the combatant.." He complemented betwixt his fits of breathing. The crunch of dust under his boots growing close to Amalgam. " Far stronger than any other magi I've come to face, save for one- In my lifetime. " He continued...
" Consuming you, would bolster my powers tremendously, granting me the power the surpass many, if not all magi in my way. Perhaps, my grasp over the Occult would strengthen... Perhaps I'd ascend to powers unforeseen of my growth." Inevitably, Exovaryn would be standing before the Kaor, tendrils of Lyperion Utovex unveiled, arching high overhead- Their barbs poised and prepped for gouging.

" The mere thought is... Exhilarating, to say the least.." He finished with a stoic expression growing twisted, teeth revealed in a broken grin. "You'll do a wonderful addition to my vessel!" He exclaimed, verbally ordering the tendrils of his anatomy to lunge from all surrounding angles, closing in at blurring briskness to pene-
... They halted! Just a twich's distance from contact...
The Harukean merely watched, sadism devolved back to stoicism... Now, lost to silence...
. . . Pondering . . .
" . . . You're not like the rest. No." He commented from an analytical perspective. "You . . . Far surpass that of your. . . " A rolling arm complemented by a digressed visor implied thought implemented into the matter. " Kin." He finished, fixating his sights back unto Amalgam. "Absorbing you, would indeed grant me the power to continue changing this world... But sparing you could prove far more... Beneficial." He presumed. " Your power and intellect are of competent value-- You can aid in the craft of my perfect world. "

" Proper compensation for this little... Scuffle..." He receded his tendrils to curdle back into his flesh, assimilated into his being once more. " Perhaps, you too- can find a place in my world... Yokai. "
It was an offer, rather than outright execution!
" The Tenebrae Aurora are no more... Vanquished.... And the Neo-Xsperitan Militia was devastated in my absense... But no more will such shenanigans obstruct my mission to recreate Valmasia.... To recreate Eternia... As you so claimed to have in mind." He stated in reference to a previous utterance spoken by Amalgam.
" With your allegiance to the cause... Such, shall be the Genesis of the Tenebrae Imperium. A successor of the Xsperitans... A successor to the Aurora... A revolution for Valmasia, and all beyond it."
(Exovaryn "Voss" Haruke)

Valmasia was, for all its wonder and magic, still a fairly primitiv world. The vast majority of the land was empty save the immediate surroundings of the ancient cities, roads were frequently little more than dirt paths when you entered into the wilds, and science was outside the grasp of most of man — relegated to the domain of magi searching for new applications of their magic. Swords and bows were the dominant tools of war, augmented by magic. As such the Valmasian language lacked a term to encompass the magnitude of what happened.

In Earth terms, what happened would be referenced to a nuclear device going off. A mass dropped from the stratosphere, accelerated beyond terminal velocity by magical means, enhanced by cosmic energies, the force was akin to a comet being slammed into the planet — and with a similar effect. Stone vanished, vaporized by the impact. Ripples ran though the ground, dust flying into the air in the signature mushroom cloud. And once things cleared, the form of the kaor laying on its back in the dust — the Harukean standing victorious above it — was visible. Once this land had had two craters left over from the comet falls a scant few years ago. Now they had been replaced by a single massive one from a different kind of celestial object.

At that the kaor's mind was certain it had no chance left. Death was a natural part of life, and a killer by nature like it could recognize when it had come. The last ditch effort had failed, and all its reserves of strength were gone. Silently it waited... and then silently it listened to the occultist's words. The promises of consumption that ignited its indignity even now, tempered with compliments to its skill. But there then came the chance, the probing tendrils withdrawing back into Exovaryn's form.

Baal'Sulam was good at this sort of thing, bargains had gained it far more in life than its instincts ever could. It was not, however, used to making them from such a position of weakness.

The legions of voices that had made up Amalgam's voice dimmed, their screams and shouts muted to not much more than a whisper. All volume was held in the single leader, the once more frustratingly familiar voice of a girl who tones rang with the sound of times. "Many have made that promise before Harukean but perhaps yours is the first time I believed it." There was always that frustrating element to telepathy, for how could he ever know if the sincerity in the voice was real or just the demon plucking on his emotions to give it that quality. "But if you will bring this strength to your crusade, then gladly I will offer my pledge to such a cause."

Survival was within reach, and while making such an offer without demanding payment galled the kaor, it was not such a bitter price to pay.
(Amalgam)

Acceptance.
... That, was all he needed to hear.
A solemn nod was ushered from the magi, before turning away for the east...
He had regenerated his wounds, but at a great cost to his fatigue and mana reserves. One's star could replenish him with hours of siphoning at its distant form... Though, the harukean symbiote would not be sated.

He needed to find alternative prey... Perhaps, remnants could be salvaged from the desolated site abroad. If not living persons still amok, then their spare limbs and life deprived cavaders, should they have survived the many explosions bombarding the scene.

He didn't bother helping up the Kaor, it was more than likely to have recovered on its own, given time.
" . . . You will know me, by Exovaryn." He said simply, with a sideglance--
" And when you return to me, you will have assembled your underlings and fellow competent members of your ilk." He ordered. " For now, we have a common enemy and a common goal." He turned away, half-expecting one to call out its name to him in his departure.

The final image one could grasp, should they have failed to follow him-- Would be that of his cape fluttering in the breeze. An article of attire gifted from Tilandre's resources: A cape of the fallen Seers of Darkness, modified with a replica of the Xsperitan Arbitor's mark at its center, stained upon the artistry in blood...

" I'll be back for you in time..."
(Exovaryn "Voss" Haruke)