Obtaining Divinity, part 2

It'd been a week after you had conquered the guardian tower and the draconic being that dwelled atop it. A week since you'd shattered the crystal empowering the defenses. In that week, the fortress was almost taken. Your forces outnumbered theirs more than five to one, and though you lacked the ability to raise new ones upon this island, there was only so much a fortress of limited defenders could do against those who had no such issues.

Especially when the attackers had a surplus of magi on their side.

Taking the walls hadn't been hard, nor had claiming the gates and opening them to your forces. Clearing out the barricaded barracks, the final fortress building...

It became apparent quickly that these people did, infact, live inside their fortress. Farms could be found, homesteads. An entire community, hundreds of people, all dedicated to a single task.

Soon enough, the fortess was your completely.

So much time spent.

As much as he loathed everything and everyone that stood in his way to the divinity he desired so much, he had to give those people a credit - to exist here for so long and away from the rest of the world, to fight back with such determination despite the odds, to refuse to surrender, it deserved some praise. Even as their enemy, he acknowledged their strong will.

But acknowledgment is as much as they'd get from the Chaos mage. He may recognize them as valiant, worthy enemies, but he's selfish to no end - any and every piece of the land, both outside and within the fortress was taken and swarmed by his forces, until there was no presence of his enemies whatsoever. Steadily, the circle of their army was closing in, snuffing out any sign of resistance.

Until there's little left.

"Begin searching every single corner of this fortress for any clues as to what they were guarding here. I want everyone to report anything that they find."

"If you captured anyone alive, I want them brought to me for interrogation. Move it people."

There was no time to waste. In fact, too much time was already wasted- heading out with the troops and the rest of magi, he led them to search certain patches of the fortress, deep inside its heart. Perhaps the answer was there?

There's only hope they find something after all.
(Arthur Rowan)

A week.

A whole week of recovering from that battle, bones mended, wounds closed. Brittle, snapped. Shut away from the skin and healed over as scars now. How many he would bear.

How many he would have on him by the time his life came to an end, if it ever did.

Farin couldn't help but to slump as he stood over the now successful over-take of land. With the rest of them, awaiting. But his mind seemed to be on other such things.
(Farin Wray)

They were taking over completely. The conquest is reminiscent to the other times that the Rowan had grown over ambitious. It reminded her of their struggles...Of how they worked so terribly hard with all blood, sweat, and tears. And even then, it was hardly 'much' of anything else to note. The one thing that stayed upon her mind here was not just surviving. But learning how to become better, how to become more...

 If only briefly, she focuses the magic that she possesses steadily...Her gaze flickering, nodding as she drifts around - searching for clues to the next portion of their find. Waiting, expecting the very being that the dragon had come from...

 Surely, the loss of such a creature would grab the attention of something much, much more powerful, right?
(Bei Rowan)

Tim wakes up yawning. He patted his ribs and then looked to the others. The oscuri takes a cup of coffee straight to the face. He eats a couple biscuits and then devours some jerky.

He was going to need to be well fed before leaving.

The cook looked around, particularly at Arthur.

He was the one giving the orders, so tim waited on one. He nods hearing the chatter about bringing in captives for interrogation. He smiles a bit.

The hunt was on.

"Bounty Bounty, Bounty huntaaa!" He sings while taking a bite out of his jerky once more.
(Tim Cobblestone)

Ludovic, being one to lick his wounds quietly, had little to no desire to press upon what needed to be done, as it'd been quite obvious he'd not been the one to involve himself in every detail. The rubble of their endeavors serves as a good seat for the fox, who's slit gaze thins ahead with the intention of moving forward sooner, rather than later.

Arthur's request is one that's received with a grunt, the Grauhimmel having set his gaze about the fortress. If anyone were to be caught by the fox whom hadn't belong, then the least of their worries were most likely being interrogated.

Still, he searches nonetheless, in hopes of finding something worthwhile.
(Ludovic Grauhimmel)

A week to recover should have felt more restful.

Even after his injuries and their climactic battle on the tower, Tanahu had been up the next day. He'd walked the wagon-wheel furrows between the homesteads and the central holdings. He'd seen the walls around them turn white with the silhouettes of undead soldiers filing through the enemy's home.

He'd cleared his share of houses. Still...

Little. The Shenlong found little. Those who didn't flee might have died off under the sword or spear of another one of the invaders. Those who'd fled, well - he cast a slitted glance about the fortress.

They'd meet somebody else, he supposed. Tanahu looked to Arthur before he set off for an eighth day of searching.

"Do we know where their leaders stayed? Did these people have leaders, or were they taking their orders from..." He furrowed his brow. "Somewhere else?"
(Tanahu)

These people were fanatics, and the only ones who were captured alive were those who were somehow knocked unconscious in the heat of battle. Even then, they answered nothing. Gave nothing. Death clearly didn't scare them, not when they knew that you could not defile them with undead.

Others were children, those that knew nothing and could answer little about a sealed angel.

Perhaps to Tanahu's surprise, there weren't any identifiable leaders. Their armor was identical, right down to the face-concealing helmets. There were no badges. They had asked autonomously, without commands in the heat of battle. There was no head to sever.

Yet, you didn't need them.

In the heat of the final battle, a shrine had been damaged. One of your soldiers poking over the ruins had noticed the draft coming beneath it, and after informing you, had discovered a passive that had been so thoroughly covered that it was clear they never intended to uncover it again.

A passage that could lead to the center of the planet for all you knew.

It was almost expected that they were not going to answer anything.

Damn it. Damn those followers of Angels and Kraus. It's no doubt such indoctrination came along the lines of what Arthur perceives as those of Order, and there's no doubt that something else guided them along the way. It's impossible for an army to be this coordinated without something to lead them - and yet, there was no apparent leader, no commander to find.

Luckily, at least another lead was found, a damaged shrine. As much as Arthur loathed the idea of going in blind against something, there was no other choice - some of the soldiers were told to stay behind and guard fortress, because gods know what else can crush upon their heads, and he would rather have a secured exit, but another portion was told to accompany the team of magi.

And so they delved, deep within.

"Come along. We'll walk this trope. Hopefully it'll take us somewhere that will answer to us what they guarded here."

The divinity itself. He hoped that the answer would be just that, but... for some reason, he had a feeling that there's more to it as well. Only time would tell.

Until then, what other choice do they have?
(Arthur Rowan)

Blind Loyalty is the most frightening. The people that are fanatics are the ones that she respects the most - because no matter what happens, even when all hell breaks loose around them...They never stop praising until the very end. And even then, she swears that she could see their souls singing the songs of yore and yesteryear. Nevertheless, the woman would've remained silent....Her body trailing behind that of the Rowan- her blade extended forth, as if prepared to experience a 'trap' that they might be wandering into...After all, these things do not simply 'reveal' themselves, right?

 Or perhaps, it is all too good to be true?

"Mh...Just be weary of what it is that you come across. The dragon was the highest point of this city. I can't imagine what the lowest portion of it will be like either." But with the barrier down and their men flooding in...She canonly imagine that success is so terribly near, that it is nearly palpable.

(Bei Rowan)

This place was anything but natural.

That was the conclusion he came to when being here. Looking from side to side, he wants to get this overwith, Farin feels. The longer they stayed here the worse things became.

There was a nagging feeling in the back of his mind. But he'd pay it little attention at the given moment. Instead, he moves closer to Bei, ''Tell me about your star, Bei.''

He mentions, attempting to strike up so me conversation while they moved.
(Farin Wray)

Tim just looks at Farin while he asks Bei about her star. Mushy.

The oscuri walks around flexing his pectorals. He was clenching the will breaker; His weapon, in his hand. The mechanical clicks of the weapon made a rusty noise.

He looks at the lot while they start to walk. He makes his way after them, smearing some whale fat into the crevices of the weapon trying to keep it lubricated.

Sniff Sniff

"Smells like gouda." He says to himself walking behind the group.
(Tim Cobblestone)

"I thought we knew what we might find here, Adjudicator," Tanahu said for the first time since they'd arrived. When it was his turn to descend, the young man set a hand on the passage edge.

He peered into the darkness with slitted eyes that slowly washed out yellow. Like dim lanterns, they reflected the light they carried with them into the unknown.

He chose a torch today. Tanahu slipped into line behind the rest. The words slipped from his mouth quietly - as an afterthought.

"Something to help defeat Huangzhou, I thought." The young man's gaze followed brilliant Bei from behind as they walked.

"You think they might be trying to keep something away from the world down here, Lady Rowan?" He glanced to Farin as he realized himself and fell silent.

Maybe it would be nicer to hear about her star.
(Tanahu)

"Mmn, things of this nature never did mix well with me."

After all, devotion is a trait the the kitsune wields rarely, for there were few he ever seemed to think of for more than a few minutes. The mind was always moving, and when the quiet came, so did the honing of his instincts. What is once a relaxed nature gives way to caution, his eyes never still when it came to observing his surroundings.

He could have said many a thing while they moved, but most of it had been empty in consideration to what everyone else had to. So the Grauhimmel stays quiet and prepared, this being no different than the usual.
(Ludovic Grauhimmel)

Bei Rowan says, "--My star is Proxima, the enduring. She's a dwarf star...Doesn't shine as bright, but because of that, she lasts much, much longer than any other being in the cosm."


Tim Cobblestone says, "My stars mi mum, She was bigger n me."

Farin Wray asks, "Is she aggressive?"

Bei Rowan says, "And, I think so, but it might not be the very thing that we're looking for. Also."

Tim Cobblestone says, "Sorta, just dont touch her danish"

Tanahu says, "Proxima, or Mr. Cobblestone's mom-"

Bei Rowan says, "-Proxima isn't aggressive. Patience and exchange is the key."


Tim Cobblestone says, "Her names Brick, Brick Cobblestone."

Bei Rowan says, "If you want something like her power, you've got to endure, just as she does and-..."

Bei Rowan says, "..I guess that's all, I suppose."

Tanahu asks, "...what is the very thing we're looking for?"

Arthur Rowan says, "According to reports I had, the angel is sealed somewhere deep within."
One could travel for years in this tunnel if they so wished, though thankfully your trip was much shorter.

Only an hour was spent in the dark tunnels. Sconces were present to be lit, showing centuries old dust clouds to get in the way of your vision, to be breathed in a coughing fit.

A coffin.

The chamber you were within was massive, easily as tall as the world and wider than existence. It was hard to tell where it began and ended, where the passage you were in had stopped or began. Where were you? Stars glittered in the distance, while the chilling cold of space brought frost to your boots.

Four chains made from what you could only assume to be everything in the world wrapped around the coffin, their very existance blinding with the runes of warding they possessed.

Words called out to you as you approached.

"The Fallen is not to be disturbed from his slumber."

Arthur could recognize some of the runes, and how to undo them.

A tricky one.

As much as Arthur's mind wanted to immediately come up with the safest route of extraction, there's a moment of awe that even he could not resist- the scarlet eyes hidden beneath the cracked mask were wide open, gazing both upon the chamber and the coffin with chains wrapped all over it, one after another. There's no doubt that they reached exactly what they were looking for.

A Fallen One.

"So the rumours were true..."

"We're standing before divinity, sealed in that coffin."

The Adjudicator walked closer, closer and closer, all to inspect the chains. There's no doubt in his mind that they present danger, especially after he reads the runic inscription, and a short glance is cast back at the people. He sizes up his options carefully, before he makes an exclamation.

"Farin, Tanahu, Tim. I'll need you to walk into runic circles as I draw them."

"You, Bei, will empower the mana in the rituals I perform. Never cease the flow of energy, no matter what."

There was no time to stay struck in awe. As such, he walked over, bending down to trace the gloved hand along the ground- it's almost as if he's picking the best spot to begin.

"Come. We're short on time."
(Arthur Rowan)

Tim Cobblestone exclaims, "Oh boy i love this game!"

Tim slaps himself on the cheeks. It was gameface time. He looked a bit serious. Still following behind the group, he waits for Arthur to draw his circle so he could stand on it.

The oscuri was ready with two pinkish cheeks.
(Tim Cobblestone)

With the kitsune settling in the back, he'd simply observe. That was all that'd be necessary, and if anything were to go wrong then he'd of course intervene as necessary.

But the rest? That'd be up to the lot involved.
(Ludovic Grauhimmel)

Tanahu watched his torchlight fade into infinite nothingness as he held it to the air.

Still, somehow, the massive sepulcher before them seemed larger than the sky. Only when Arthur spoke did the Shenlong man remember to breathe. Asked to walk, he finally remembered to let go of his sword.

"...yes, Adjudicator." He glanced at Farin before taking an uncertain step forward.

"In that order?"

Whatever Tanahu's concept of divinity had been, now it was this coffin.
(Tanahu)


"It's not going to be easy.." These things are much different than what she could've imagined. And as far as she is concerned...This is risking the lives of all those that participate within this ordeal. Nevertheless, the woman would've found herself beginning to step forward...Her body lifting above the group, her wings spread...Channeling Proxima's impossible light despite being so far underneath the ground. From her, to the Rowan, the exchange is made....Light pulsing forth, enchanting his mana circuits, bringing more power in exchange of the self.

"Hurry."

 These things can be rather strenuous on the body if not careful.
(Bei Rowan)

Once more he must put his life on the line here. There was no telling just what would happen if they step into these. . things. But, the coffin was right here. The end goal was in sight. It would be foolish.

Foolish to fall back and hold.

Not when it was all right here. Still. He thinks on what Bei said. To embody that aspect of their star was to channel it? To suffer was hers? If that were the case, what did she suffer from?

Farin ponders what he must do, if that were the case, and steps where he needs to. Now, for Arthur, and Bei, and perhaps Dawn all together. He'll risk it.


(Farin Wray)

Thankfully, this was not the first time he worked with complicated runes.

The project of Statue, the project of Biomancy, and even the ones related to his own Ascension... so many various runes practiced, so many rituals done, and yet the another test comes before him. It's not too long before he simply responds to Tanahu, an address that is also relevant to the others.

"It doesn't matter. You need to stand close to one of the chains, however."

He bends down, and the magic begins- the imprint of Adjudicator's powerful magic, one that was bearing not only the signs of a tedious rise over all these years, but also the channel of Bei's energy - the golden light, mixed with hints of crimson and waves of blue, a circle that was slowly being conjured upon the ground, right next to one of the chains.

'Parma - The Purpose of Shield, of Protection.'
'Liquo - The Purpose of Drain, of Straining the Source.'
'Umbra - The Purpose of Shadow, of Redirection and Stealth.'
'Torque - The Purpose of Chain, of Tie, of Connection.'

Perhaps if it weren't for Bei's flow of energy, it could take a lot more time, and be less potent too- but thankfully, the three circles are soon created, bound by the almost invisible link that stretches around the coffin. It's felt in the air as a palpable power, but until it's connected to the wielder, it's useless.

It's only useless until it's connected to the source.

Three circles. Meticulously, the hand of a Storm magi draws each and every one of them, bidding his time to ensure that the runes are drawn correctly. They swirl, awaiting to latch upon someone who would take a hold within.

"Farin, Tanahu and Tim, stand in a circle, one for each."

And yet, he's not done... he walksover to where he was seen last, the hand reaching down again. Is there something else to be done?
(Arthur Rowan)

The final piece of a puzzle.

The place where Arthur belongs, the place that will channel the ritual's process, one that hopefully would be enough for it all to come by without much of a loss - or at least, he hopes that it's going to lessen the impact that they're about to experience. As much as the wave of anxiety takes over his mind, he stays focused. He simply cannot allow himself to back off now, after all that he's been through.

No, it's too late to back away.

It's greatness and it's the raw power that is laid upon foundation of his spot. Brimming with well of a potent energy, it seems to rise in eloquent hum and the blue vine that wraps around his body- something that is meant to channel it through, something that is meant to control this ritual once it's going to happen.

'Ortus - The Purpose of Source, of Origin.'
'Imperium - The Purpose of Power, of Raw Strength.'
'Cursus - The Purpose of Flow, of Grace.'
'Torque - The Purpose of Chain, of Tie, of Connection.'

The ritual was prepared. The ethereal chains between each circle were glowing with blue-green colors, of a sickly pattern that sought to dig into user's very essence. Perhaps, it was necessity, but...

"Come. We don't have all day."

"Get in the circles."
(Arthur Rowan)

Tanahu shoots one last, uncertain look towards the great, chained prison above them before he steps foot in his circle. He turns to face the others.
(Tanahu)

It all binds them.

The ethereal chains immediately latch upon the other three, just as much as they latch upon Arthur- the subjects in question could immediately feel something trying to twitch their hand upward, much like trying to copy Arthur's movement. It's not flawless, but it's made to replicate the technique, provided they go with the flow.

The source, the flow and the grace of it all was the key.

"Do not resist it."

"You'll need to target the chain and destroy it with all of your might. Remain in the circle, or you will suffer pain in return for trying to do it from outside."

"Do it at once. The runes are made to coordinate us easier. As I said... just let it happen, and otherwise aim for the chains."

One for each. It doesn't take a genius to figure out that they must predictably destroy the chain that is closest to them, and as such, the Adjudicator raises his magic to such task first- a shimmering bolt of lightning compacted in his hands, cast through technique of runecasting, the runes appearing around the spell as it goes.

The similar thing happens to the rest. The chains call upon them, almost moving against their will- if it weren't for the fact that they'd likely cooperate, it almost seems as invasion, but... what is the price of such small thing when they're faced with reward they waited for so long?

"Now!"

A flash of energy, and the call becomes much greater- the Adjudicator directs the surge of magic to the closest chain in attempts to break it. Now, it only rests on the others to follow through.
(Arthur Rowan)

Runes strained almost immediately, even with all the empowerment, with Arthur's expertise. Testing the magic of the angels was not something done lightly, if it was even to be done at all.

Magic flowed. Chains snapped, one after the other, brilliant nimbus' of divine magic more potent than a dozen spire shards exploding rippling through the air! A rainbow of color, a world of possibility.

Arthur's magic held on his end, keeping him safe from the explosion, but... Not everyone was quite so lucky. The runes surrounding Tanahu failed, and in a brilliant whiplash of magic, scorched him to the spirit. He would recover in time, but for now? All he could do was watch from the ground as your work unfolded.

The chains slipped down into the void, dragging their fragments with them and uncoiling from the coffin one at a time. Silence.

Rifts began appearing in localized space. Rifts to nowhere. Rifts to the moon, to the stars, to the edges of creation and the bottom of the ocean, opening and closing as rapidly as one could imagine. The coffin cracked, violent red light leaking from it.

"When hope is gone..."

A deep baritone voice came from around you, as if the speaker was everywhere. More cracks began to appear in the coffin as it trembled. A skeletal hand punched through the wood.

"Undo these locks..."

The air screamed in agony as something terrible began to awake. Another explosion of the coffin poured out, revealing glowing red eyes of something...

"Send me forth..."

Divine.

"On a moonlit walk."

The coffin exploded in a shower of wings and rapidly fading feathers, revealing a gaunt, skeletal figure on his hands and knees.

Almost enough to carry them through unharmed. Almost.

As much as it was regretful that Tanahu ended up harmed, it was something that Arthur could not possibly predict with perfect precision- for all that they know, they were breaking out a Fallen Angel, and the result of breaking one out could be literally anything. The price of a blood for this young magi, perhaps, was not so great.

A single glance was spared at the youth. Arthur wages his options of rushing to treat him, or perhaps to stand his ground, but they do not know whether this Fallen Angel is friendly or not - by the sound of it, no, he wasn't. Figuring that it may not end well, he stands before the Angel, the cracked mask with dried blood is pointed at it.

As much of a great and powerful man he was, it is nothing before Divinity. And yet...

"You were freed by the expedition of Dawn, one upon Agarthan continent."

Probably the words that mean nothing to this Angel, but introductions were commonly in place. As much as he'd act as a speaker for the group in this scenario, he kept a safe distance - enough to not suffer the fury of a divine creature that was likely driven mad from aeons in captivity.

"We sought you for your divine powers."

"Are you in control? What were you locked for?"
(Arthur Rowan)

He stood, slowly. The Angel looked odd, but as a Fallen, who could judge what he was supposed to look like? A bleached, white skull was his face, though with lidless eyes that swiveled in the sockets like rolling balls.

"Agartha..." The baritone voice was overpowering, commanding with the presence that the mortals you had brought with you suddenly kneeled, knowing precisely where their god was now.

"You freed me for my powers." It stood over ten foot tall, those red eyes staring at Arthur with a level, even look. A clawed, skeletal finger poked through the air, cutting a rift in space, a rift through which he pulled a sword, a red thing that made the air around it weep.

"Mortals wishing to play with my power... I thank you for bringing me an army." The blade was suddenly inversed, stabbed into the ground. A violent, wracking pain would overcome Arthur as his connection to his undead was severed, hundreds of them, infact -

Every undead that had been brought with him to the island.

Their eyes began to glow a fiery red as Xulliav asserted his dominion over them.

The ever lurking threat of this ordeal would be enough for most to run away in fear, to flee for their lives and attempt to struggle away from the obvious death that would come for them- as such, while Adjudicator stood before the Fallen Angel, the churning, wracking and burning pain from within seemed to be overwhelming, steadily rising...

Hundreds gone. In an instant, it was almost as if he lost his breath. If it weren't for the cracked mask he wears after the endless battles they had to suffer, one could see the expression of a man whose life was put on the line within an instant that it was done - such overwhelming pain was not easy to endure, and the only saving grace that remained is the fact that it did not last long.

'This conniving, deceptive...'
'We told you it would happen.'
'We're not going back without our prize.'

A newfound strength. Many know Arthur for great feats, but beneath the shell, there's a man that is terrified of death. If it weren't for the connection he sought for so long, if it weren't for the strength he fostered over so many decades... perhaps, he would've even fled right now, but...

"Attack! Attack him now!"

A sudden change of tone. This would be no doubt a hard battle ahead of them all, a battle that would no doubt leave them on the brink of their mortality, but that thought is shoved aside. A burning red of Chaotic energy was shining through, and not only through the eyes of Divine, no. The man that stood to defy the divinity had naught but a single point to prove - that a man can do much too.

"Fight until he's down!"
(Arthur Rowan)

Pain. It must be the most horrendous thing one could possibly feel- especially while being a necromancer. This wasn't the first time that it has happened to Arthur either...Considering the fact that he is one of the necromancers that utilizes his undead in such a manner...This could've only been seen as obvious. However, the turning of the angel against the lot of them wasn't expected. In essence...She was expecting something a little more different, something a little more...Holy, rather than corrupt. In the end though, the woman's narrowing gaze would turn into fine daggers. He wouldn't have to tell her twice.

 Immediately, she uses her strength to launch herself off of the ground. She doesn't give the Angel time enough to recover...Instead, it is quick. Wings bursting into existence, beating against the stale air of the dungeon as she attempts to wreak havoc upon the fallen angel.

"It's not play." Whether it is good or bad, it doesn't matter. Their purpose for coming here is to gather the impossible...The divine. And now, it must be done right. Steadily.

"Give in."

 She demands it as such. After all, did they not free the angel?---Why would it be play when they went through such lengths to allow him freedom?
(Bei Rowan)

Bones. How immediate is his interest waning, tested by the nature of those that he intermingles with. Yet, his own innate curiosity counteracts that of the winter-wolfs when he finds himself observing the scene unfold, the tug of the abyss something that remained all too familiar to Ludovic himself.

There were so many places, so many memories he wished to cultivate with just this glimpse. If but a single area could be grasped by the mind, he'd have done so then and there, yet there'd been better things to commit to memory. Greater powers to face and overcome.

There is no immediate element that's grasped. Instead, the fox wields the same nameless element itself. If they were to attack, then he'd dip in and out before the sight of his opponents, evading what magic may come his way.

There'd be no consumption, no beasts to convene with at the end of the day other than himself. But everything would become irrelevant soon enough, when the might of those present collided in contest.
(Ludovic Grauhimmel)

To demand something of an angel.

An angel.

An angel.

It was true. It was here and in front of him, in front of them all. And though his strength was sapped from the process just before, Farin finds himslef rejuvinated, if only for the sight before him.

There were a myriad of emotions. The most notable was the want to keep his distance. It wasn't to be as he was too much a close ranged fighter, but he watched, he observed.

This thing. It would no doubt be far worse than the dragon. It slumbered, and yet it revealed such an ominous feeling that he couldn't help but to understand the moment they stepped over here.

Farin wishes he had that thread, that fated red thread that bonded him and his beloved. But he does not. So, with the watching of this creature. He has no choice but to muster his power. All of his power.

''Dammit. Dammit! Dammit! I can't die, I won't. And I won't let them die, either.''

His instincts to protect the precious people to him. He roars loudly, shaking his head from side to side. To bring them all back. To make it back. The ultimate goal of his.
(Farin Wray)

Massive. Ancient. Monstrous. Depraved.

Tanahu tasted the sheer wrongness of their act through his eyes when he finally managed to sit up enough to look at it. A sword that dripped with destruction hung from its bony, clawlike hands. Words of doom echoed from its sunken lips.

The Shenlong didn't just feel weakened as a magi. Deeper than the claws that had nearly killed him a week before, his very essence ached and cried like a torn muscle - the cost of freeing the godly being before them.

His knees were shaking too. His eyes desperately sought Arthur as the young man clawed his way to his feet. His mouth filled with fangs and a shout.

"Issssn't thisss what you wanted to do?!" He cried out - "To give it an army - isss that not ssservice to Azrael?" The man wobbled to his feet.

He didn't go for his sword though - not yet. Somehow, the horned-and-tailed man could imagine fighting a dragon.

It was hard to imagine fighting this.
(Tanahu)

Bei was supernaturally quick, and yet the angel wasn't there to be struck, phasing from reality and appearing above from a rift, powerful black wings flapping in the air. "Yes, you mortals have forgotten your place, haven't you? I suppose centuries without my lords patient, guiding hand would have given illusions of freedom!"

He batted away Bei's blows with his own rapid counterattacks, blade weaving a lattice against hers.

"Fine, fine! If you will not serve in life, then your corpses will serve in death." His aura warped violently, melding up, occultism at its most horrid and depraved.

Death, cast not from demon, but from an angel.

"Let me stretch my wings, it's been so LONG!"

[FIGHT]

When the fight began, no one could quite be prepared for the might of a fallen angel in person. Horrific telekinesis opened it, and it never grew easier from there. Lightning, fire, and other magics mingled effortlessly, He fought with the grace and command of a being that had never truly known failure against mortal kind.

The undead he'd stolen from Arthur attacked immediately, bleaving you with only the option of forcibly executing your own soldiers lest they strike you down themselves. His mana imbued them with a fragment of his strength, letting them strike with potency beyond what Arthur was currently capable of!

He didn't hold back, and yet at the same time, seemed to be playing with his food. His attacks always had the most vicious aspects, and yet when someone was almost brought low, he'd turn away to find someone who'd caught their breath.

That was his downfall in the end. Despite the numerous crippling and lifethreatening injuries he'd dealt, despite his seamless ability to rift through the starry arena, his wings faltered.

A violent slash from Bei severed the arm that held his sword, the red blade clattering to the ground, while a telekinetic explosion from Arthur broke a wing, scattering feathers about.

Farin and Tim fought in beautiful syncronicity, blades twirling, spilling current divine blood to the floor. Tanahu came in, rocking those wounds further with his own lightning infused blade, and Ludovic lit the angel aflame with powerful kitsune magics.

Ultimately, no one could truly say which blow severed the angels connection to the world as it was 'slain', only that with a scream and a final curse, Xulliav was defeated.

Leaving only his blade and feathers behind.

There are certain things that cannot be taken for granted. She has learned that life within this manner is as good and as terrible as it's going to get. And although she has fought time and time again to cling to what belongs to her...There are times when she is prepared to make valiant sacrifices to save those that she cares for...And to create impossible opportunities when none present themselves. 'You know what you have to do'. The voices are mind-numbing..Her own mind swimming with both anger and anguish, the ripping and tearing into reality getting lost within the moment..

'Do it.'

 During the midst of the battle, when steel creates sparks...When she sees life flash before her eyes, there is a moment where her strength would wane. Perhaps, purposely, she creates an opening for the creature to strike....Only to suddenly be impaled by the blade entirely. "Ah.." She inhales, memories and more flashing through her mind...The stress of the soul could be felt entirely, veins blackening briefly, color paling from her features as she grips onto the arm of the Angel.

 She creates the opening with her sacrifice, cutting off the arm before falling onto the ground with a horrendous thump...Her own blood beginning to pool around her being. It seems within this moment, that she blossoms...Crimson thorns ebbing steadily through the center of her shirt...The blade held harshly within her abdomen as her gaze flutters briefly to the sky..

"Ah...I knew it.." Her lips are parted, shallow breathes spilling forth and yet.. No sound spills past her lips. "This is the end, isn't it?" There is a pause...Familiar faces returning to her mind. People of her past coming into fruition..

"Joy, Theo...Rea, Conall…" She repeats them. "Arthur.." It is difficult to cling to consciousness...Extremely so.

"I'm sorry." She has never felt smaller until now. When the warmth of her own blood evades her, and became replaced by an incessant, impossible chill.
(Bei Rowan)

As the battlefield fell still, Tanahu stared at his sword.

Red blood intermingled with the glittering black. It ran down the grip over his hands and dripped about his feet in their divine arena.

Then, it pooled about his knees. The Shenlong felt his breathing slow as he looked up and around. He could still breathe, somehow - just like he somehow knew the worst of the injuries dealt by his blade was his own. That almost hadn't been the case though.

While he ran himself through with Shiken, great fire had saved him from what surely would have been death's blow. The man blinked his slitted eyes and looked to the closest figure who could have done it in the end.

He looked to Ludovic, for not the first time found himself speaking through bubbling, red liquid borne out by internal injuries, and murmured with the last strength he had for the moment as, in the wake of the angel's dying burst, his body felt like no more than shaped clay - physical mass without significance or soul.

"Thank you."

A violent, hacking cough brought the Shenlong back to reality and held him back from saying anything further.
(Tanahu)

As simple as a task of persevering is, such could not be gifted to each and every soul, and so those that were either more lucky, or even just a tad bit more talented, would make way through the flames and blade of a divine being to ensure that life was preserved to an extent, for there'd been enough skeletons lurking in his presence.

Enough uninteresting beings to cleave into with magic without remorse. Where as those were much more offensive in their endeavors, the kitsune seemed keen on tossing his magic out and weaving between the planes, each action seamless in its performance as the fox emanated the hunt, his ferocity not lacking in range, nor potency.

Yet, still keeping his senses about him, wounds that would otherwise bring about the demise of the kitsune are cleverly slipped away from, the same arcane magic wielded by his opponent utilized to escape, the lifestream but another tool at his disposal to live. To thrive and exceed the limits which had been placed upon this realm.

Yet, none of it hadn't wore him down any less when the angel fell. Ludovic, whom had not sustained a physical, could feel the remnants of a sinister force bear down upon his soul, an exasperated sigh leaving the Grauhimmel as he grasped his scythe, the resonance which came from such a heightened battle briefly cut away from as he'd came back to his senses..
(Ludovic Grauhimmel)

I moved before I could even think, dammit!

The thought is accompanied by a howl from him in sheer pain. It does not stop him nor does it slow his momentum, but the pain was there and at this point, having danced around far too much with his own shred of luck--Farin truly could not find it in him to dwell.

This was what he got for trying to aspire, to be more. To reach out and lend a hand. Because, helping people was what Kestrel did, and Farin truly did want to make his wife happy.

But it came at the cost of this intolerable, unbearable heat. The hellish--angelic, disgusting raw power of this mighty creature before them.

--Aimed at Tim.

It wasn't even in his way and he could easily have dismissed it, to continue fighting. But his body just didn't listen and acted, thinking, praying--promising that they would all make it through this.

Farin moved to remove Tim from his spot, the gigantic, hunking Oscuri lagging behind a bit. Perhaps because of all of those muscles? All of that bulk beneath him? Whatever the case was, Farin has taken his place and is eaten alive by a swath of dim colored cinders.

He does not remain there as he feet carry him away but it was obvious, the damage was done. He couldn't really see over the broiling pain in his eye, and the other, what could be spotted, had flecks of red.

A curse.

It had to be a curse.

It causes him to move in tandem with his allies, causes him to fight harder. If a few seconds could do such lasting damage.

They really wouldn't stand a chance.

And so they fight. They give it all they have, and when it was finally done? The feathers falling, the weapon dropping, the cry of defeat and the vanishing of the angelic presence.

Farin collapses onto a knee. Hand over his eye, unable to stop the pain. Like knives digging into his socket. It hurt like hell on Agartha.

(Farin Wray)

In the end - they'd secured the angels divine magic that they'd come for.

They'd stolen his sword, and who knew what that could be used for.

The undead above were mindless, masterless now. They needed Arthur's firm hand to grip their conscious once more before they passed.

But it was over.

The day was ended in blood.